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projectionistwrites · 1 year

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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 1

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Steven Grant x afab!psychologist!reader (8.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, intense overstimulation, non-ejaculatory orgasm, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: steven is my baby. he deserves the world. i hope i did his character justice. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: STEVEN GRANT

ROLE IN SYSTEM: Caretaker / Internal Self-Helper

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Preoccupied

CHARACTERISTICS: timid, introverted, sensitive, unassertive; inferiority complex; the epitome of a people pleaser.

SPLIT FROM HOST: assumedly a result of simultaneous emotional and physical abuse from mother.

TRAUMA RESPONSE: alter likely emerged as a way to maintain the childhood innocence of the host; a personification of the word 'hope'.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: shy, reserved, submissive, responsive, doting; views relationship as transactional (i.e. his only value is derived from what he can provide to a partner, whether that be physically, fiscally, materially, or emotionally); incredibly receptive to praise and validation.

Silence.

It filled the room and weighed heavy in the air—only interrupted by the buzzing of the filter in Gus’ fish tank near the center of the apartment.

You swallowed.

Why did it have to be Steven first?

You knew why. You’d made the decision deliberately, carefully—Steven was the softest, most vulnerable and hesitant. The most emotionally mature, but also the most emotionally fragile. Sensitive, caring, empathetic, loving—he really, truly cared. That’s why he had to go first. This was more than just an excuse to have sex with you—this was intimacy, passion, a closeness he so desperately craved. And you knew, deep down, he’d be comparing himself to his other alters. Envying their confidence, their forwardness, their unapologetic sexual prowess. Steven had always felt inferior—you needed to prove to him that that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

But still. As much as you cared for him, as much as you were looking forward to getting to know him physically, in that moment, you desperately wished for a hint of Marc’s initiative, or even a sliver of Jake’s assertiveness.

Steven was sat on the couch, hunched over, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Nervous energy pulsed from his body in waves—his clear stress wasn’t doing anything to help with your own trepidation.

You shuffled beside him, crossing one leg over the other at the ankles. You drew in a breath.

“Do you... do we need to go over anything again?”

He flinched at your intrusion on the silence—without sparing you a glance, he offered a brief shake of his head.

“Well, I think we should go over it one more time, just in case. So. Today is—is about you. Whatever you say goes. Obviously, I have my limits, but, I mean, I really don’t see that being much of a problem with any of you—except maybe Jake...”

You digressed, but the mention of his alters clearly ruffled Steven’s feathers, even if he hid it well. You continued.

“And—and you’ll be fronting the whole time. No co-consciousness, or interruption from the others. Right?”

Steven nodded again, more firmly this time.

“Okay. And lastly—well, I’ve thought about it, and—and I think we should be fine without condoms.”

That got Steven’s attention. His head turned to you, eyes wide with bewilderment.

“What?”

You looked away abashedly, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I just—I’ve got the implant, and well—Marc gave me documentation confirming that you’re negative for any STI’s, which—so am I. So I figure—unless you’re gonna be having sex with anyone else in the time this experiment is being conducted, then—then I think we should be fine... for now.”

“You told us we had to be abstinent in the week between each experimental window.”

You laughed at this, amused at the incredulity in his voice.

“Oh, so you were planning on seeing someone else in between, then?”

His face flushed with alarm as he attempted to backtrack.

“Wha—no! No, I didn’t mean—you just—you said we should refrain from doin’ anything, as in—anything. So I just—”

“Relax, Steven, I’m just teasing you.”

You giggled, reaching to grip his bicep reassuringly. Your fingers making contact with his body seemed to jostle him—he stared down at the place your fingers wrapped around his arm, electricity crackling from your fingers and lighting a fire in his belly. He swallowed.

His sudden attention to your presence grounded you back into reality as well. You felt the taut muscles of his bicep flex beneath your hand, the parting of Steven’s lips and fluttering of his lashes making your breath stumble.

When he looked up at you, finally, his eyes were dark—lustful, desirous. Still, there was a sense of restraint within him, his diffidence preventing him from moving unto you further. You realized that you would likely have to make the first move.

“Steven.”

You spoke softly, drawing him in.

“Are you—do you feel ready?”

For a moment, he looked terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced away from you for a moment, trying to reason with himself, to will the anxiety away. You squeezed his arm.

“You don’t have to do this, Steven, really. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want this.”

“But Steven, really, it’s alright—”

“No, you don’ understand—I really, really want this.”

His words were breathy, but certain, the desire in his tone undeniable. You felt your breath hitch at his confession, and before either of you had time to worry about it anymore, you closed the gap between you, pushing yourself up against his side and tilting your head so your lips met his. He whined into your mouth, his initial hesitance wearing off and making way for his insatiable hunger for your touch, your taste, you.

His hands reached to grip the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair as he pulled you closer, forcing your lips to meld against his deeply. You leaned into him, allowing yourself to shift into his lap, your thighs straddling his. As you settled your weight onto him, he audibly groaned as your core pressed against the hardening tent in his pants. Your hands traveled up his chest and along his shoulders as your tongue explored his mouth. He fought back with equal fervor, and you could sense that there was a hint of desperation in him—as if he was finally acting upon the months worth of repressed sexual tension between the two of you.

You pulled away with a gasp, coming up for air as you lifted your chin slightly, away from the chase of his lips. Instead, they began a sloppy assault on your throat, mouthing and teething at the supple flesh of your neck and down into your collarbone. You let out a breathy moan as Steven lavished your skin with attention, quickly gaining the confidence to suck a mark into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You keened.

“God, Steven.”

The sound of his name falling from your lips was heaven. He pulled you back down for another searing kiss, and you offered an experimental nip to the swell of his bottom lip. He groaned.

“Christ, you’re a minx.”

His voice was throaty, gravelly, and you giggled at his comment as he pressed kisses to the corners of your mouth and the surrounding flesh of your cheeks.

“Should we... do you want to move to the bed?”

You asked quietly, and the man stiffened, clearly enticed by the proposal.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

You regretfully pulled yourself from his lap and he followed immediately after, reaching for your hand as you guided him back towards his bed. It was neatly made, the corners tucked in and the blankets pressed. For some reason, it made you want to cry. You’d been at his flat plenty of times before, but never had you once seen his bed made up so tidy. He did that for you.

As you reached the end of the bed, you hesitated. You had taken the lead, carefully easing Steven into the interaction, but now, you needed to see what he wanted. You looked to him.

“What—where do you want me?”

He swore he almost blacked out at the sheer compliance that your tone offered. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tight in an effort to slow the rapidly building arousal in his groin—you hadn’t even fucking touched him yet.

“Would you—could you just lay down f’me, love?”

You smiled at him gratefully, offering a small nod at you followed his careful instruction. You shuffled up towards the head of the bed, turning to lie flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. You looked at Steven expectantly—he was just watching you, fists slowly clenching and unclenching at his sides. Christ, you were a sight to beheld.

Cautiously, Steven lowered onto his hands and knees and crawled up towards you, allowing himself to hover over your body with his own, his waist slotting between the parting of your legs. He rested on his elbows, forearms framing your head as he gazed down at you. The sheer reverence and devotion in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

“Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous.”

He mumbled, fingers moving to stroke your hairline, tracing the curvatures of your face. You smiled softly before tilting your head upwards to close the small space that remained between you. These kisses were softer—slow, gentle, repeated slides of his lips against yours. It made you feel lightheaded.

You reached for the hem of his jumper.

“I—can I?”

You questioned against his lips, and he nodded slowly, sitting upright to help you pull the top up and over his head. He flung it to the side carefully, and you spread your hands out against the warmth of his torso, the ring finger on your left hand just barely brushing his right nipple. He hissed as the feeling of your cold hands pressed into his abdomen, but at the same time, the sensation was intoxicating. You let your fingers slide up towards his chest, skating across both of his hardened nipples before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back to you. He happily obliged, malleable under your touch, but you could feel his fingers twitching as if desperate to touch you. You pushed him back slowly, reaching to take off your own shirt.

“Wait.”

Steven panicked, and you froze, a flash of hurt cresting your face. But he just smiled gently.

“Can—let me.”

He offered, and you laid back, letting his fingers skim the flesh of your stomach as he gripped the hem and pulled the fabric away from you. You sat up briefly to allow him to pull it completely off, revealing your simple white lace bra beneath it. You watched him drink you in, completely infatuated. His hands skated up your sides, over the curve of your hip and across your ribs, but they halted before they reached any further. You nodded in encouragement.

“It’s okay, Steven. You can touch me.”

A whimper escaped his mouth as he slowly reached up the palm at your breast, still contained in the cup of your bra. He could feel the peak of your nipple through the fabric as he massaged the flesh carefully, kneading and squeezing. The sigh you let out spurred him on, and he reached behind you towards the clasp, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and nod, and his fingers worked to unclip the material beneath you. After a few brief seconds of his fumbling, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the—bollocks, why’s it so bloody hard to undo?”

Your saccharine giggle melted his annoyance as you offered him assistance, reaching behind you to unlatch the hooks. When it was finally unclasped, the cups loosening their hold on your breasts, he let out a shaky breath, gripping the straps and watching them glide down your arms until you were topless beneath him.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he watched your body react to his touch. Tracing beneath the swell of your left breast, dancing across the valley between them, repeating the movement on the right side. Goosebumps trailed in his wake as he stared, utterly entranced at the softness of your skin and the rhythm of your breathing.

His eyes met yours once more, and stayed there as he slowly leaned down and pulled your right nipple into his mouth. You mewled at the action, back arching just slightly as his other hand came to cup your other tit, massaging it gently as he sucked at your flesh. He switched sides, lavishing your other nipple with equal attention, and even offering an experimental nip to the swollen bud, earning a cry from you—a mix between a sharp pain, quickly soothed with the swipe of his tongue.

You hardly noticed when his lips began pressing kisses lower across your chest, your breasts, across the expanse of your stomach, until his lips were skating over your navel, just above the button of your jeans. His dark eyes found yours, and he offered you a silent question, to which you immediately nodded. His trembling fingers reached to undo the button—with which he had much more success than your bra—and pulled the zipper down. As he slowly coaxed the fabric away from your skin, he pressed two hot kisses against each of your hip bones before pulling the pants completely off and discarding them nearby.

His hands roamed the newly exposed skin of your thighs, fingers creating divots in the soft flesh with his firm grip. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your calf, sliding them upwards until he reached your inner thigh. You whimpered at his proximity to where you needed him most, but he evaded you by switching to mirror the same path on your other side. Your toes curled in frustration.

“Steven.”

You huffed, head thrown back, and his head popped upwards, eyes wide with concern.

“Stop teasing.”

His gaze softened, and you felt his lips press right above your pubic bone, where the waistband of your panties was settled.

“Sorry, m’love, I couldn’t help it. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

His fingers gripped the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs, successfully leaving you completely bare beneath him. You had half the mind to feel insecure at the exposure, but when you caught sight of the look on Steven's face, his eyes transfixed on the sopping folds of your cunt, any hesitance was thrown out the window.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He whispered, letting the pointer finger on his left hand just barely graze between your pussy lips to gather some of your wetness, causing your hips to jolt. He let out a short ‘ha’ sound at your reaction to his touch.

“Is this—s’this all f’me?”

He looked at you again, lips parted and eyes hooded. You nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Steven, yes—all for you.”

He rewarded you with a groan, his finger offering another, firmer swipe through your folds, easily sliding through with the slick of your arousal. The tip of his finger caught on the hood of your clit and your hips jumped again. Instead of removing his finger, he slid it back downwards, slowly circling the entrance of your pussy with careful ministrations. Before you could even ask, he pushed his middle finger deep inside you, curling forward, and almost instantly, the pad of his digit nudged at the most sensitive part of you. You cried out at the abrupt sensation, hips unconsciously grinding down against his hand. He smiled wickedly.

“Ah—there you are.”

He mumbled to himself, repeating the motion once more to ensure he had located the spot where your sensitivity peaked. Again, your body followed the movement of his hand, and he easily added a second finger, slowly beginning to pump them in and out of you, all while continuing the well-received come-hither motion. You squeezed your eyes shut, core muscles clenched as pleasure spread from your cunt upwards, and then his thumb found your clit and you were reeling.

“Oh, fuck, Steven, shit—oh God, I can’t, m’gonna—”

His free hand came up to stroke your hair tenderly, eyes peeling away from where they were watching where his fingers sank into you to ogle at the face you'd make as you climaxed.

“That’s it, love. Doin’ so well. C’mon, give it to me.”

Your orgasm reached its peak, toes curling and back arching as you let out a salacious, pornographic moan, thrusting in time with Steven’s diligent fingers as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from your dripping folds. Your skin buzzed with sensitivity as the waves of stimulation rippled through you—your breathing was labored when you came down from your high, sinking back into the mattress and grounding yourself back in reality.

Steven pressed a kiss to your lips, which you accepted gratefully, although your energy was significantly less than his—he didn’t seem to mind. He pulled away, just barely, noses brushing together in a moment of intimacy. You felt dizzy.

“So good, Steven—make me feel so good.”

You rambled, hot breath fanning across his face. He glowed at your praise, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Even after your first orgasm, your hunger for him was nowhere near sated. Your walls were clenching around nothing, desperate for the hot drag of his cock inside of you.

Something resembling a whimper came from the back of your throat, and Steven’s eyes found yours, softening.

“I know, darling, I know. S’alright, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

Your fingers trailed down his stomach and covertly ghosted over the skin right atop the waistband of his jeans. Fuck, he still had his jeans on?

You reached for the button, and Steven took the hint, pulling them off of himself rather ungracefully and tossing them to the side. He was left in just his boxers, and when your hand stroked over the hard outline of his cock within them, he hissed, almost as if he were in pain. He recoiled from your touch just slightly, and you felt brief concern at the reaction. He squinted one eye open at you, wincing.

“Careful, please, love, I—don’t want this to end too quickly.”

“Whatever you want, Steven, I’m yours.”

You breathed, fingers caressing the side of his face and beneath his jawline. He grunted at your words, still fighting to maintain control of his body. It only served to turn you on more. When your fingers once more reached for the band of his boxers, he interrupted you with a kiss.

“Patience, love, s’alright.”

"Want you so bad."

You cried against his mouth, absolutely desperate, and you felt the stutter of his exhale as he pulled away.

“I know, I know, but I—Gods, ’m sorry, but I just have to taste you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his head was between your thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inner flesh between them. Your eyes fluttered closed just as he licked a long, experimental stripe between your folds, making you jerk up towards him involuntarily.

Your cunt was puffy and swollen from your previous orgasm, but Steven wasted no time diving in. He let the tip of his tongue dance around your bundle of nerves, suckling it into his mouth and humming at the taste. The vibrations traveled all the way through you, and you moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy. You tried to force your legs from caging him in, but when he noticed the strain in your muscles, he tucked his arms beneath your thighs and let your knees rest on his strong shoulders, allowing him an even better angle with which to pleasure you.

He changed course, tongue now prodding at your entrance, pushing in and out carefully and slowly. At the feeling of your walls clenching, Steven jostled just slightly, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit just right. You cried out, fingers flying to fist at his dark curls, pulling him back in against you.

“Fuck, do that again, Steven, please.”

Steven wasn’t one to deny you of what you wanted. He obliged, repeating the motion, his tongue penetrating you rhythmically and his nose pressed against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You thighs tightened around his head, and you felt more than you heard the groan that it pulled from him. You were suddenly teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“God, Steven, gonna make me cum, don’t stop, please—”

Steven maintained his pace, smart enough to know not to speed up or slow down or change up his rhythm at all as your toes curled. You briefly opened your eyes, and the sight in front of you toppled you over the cliff—Steven’s dark eyes staring up at you, the lower half of his face buried in your cunt, his hips rutting up against the mattress unconsciously as he watched you come undone. You practically sobbed as the shockwaves overwhelmed you, your thighs squeezing Steven’s head and holding him in place as you tugged at his hair. He happily lapped up your arousal, the taste of you lingering on his tongue when he finally pulled away after you had stopped squirming.

You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, and the sight of your slick coating his chin and smeared across his cheeks was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. You smiled at him with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high.

“Please, will you fuck me now, Steven?”

You pleaded, and Steven groaned, pressing his still-covered cock against the heat of your pussy.

“Oh, yes, please, can I?”

He asked for confirmation, because of course he did, he’s Steven, and you nodded feverishly, watching with lustful eyes as he pulled his boxers down, his length finally released from the confines of the fabric. It stood at full height, long and big but not too thick, and you practically felt yourself drooling at the sight. His head was flushed a deep reddish purple, sheened with precum that had accumulated there. There was a prominent vein that ran up the underside of his shaft, and all you wanted to do was run your tongue along it. Steven caught you staring and grimaced, moaning lowly.

“Christ, darling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and ’m not gonna be able to last.”

His hand reached down and gave a few strokes to his cock, pumping it as he moved in towards you. He leaned down over you once again, eyes finding yours, and you felt the tip rub up and down your folds a few times. Steven’s lips were parted in pleasure, his breathing ragged. You felt the head of his cock barely breach the entrance of your pussy.

“Is this—are you sure?”

He asked you one final time, fingers reaching to stroke your hair. Instead of answering, you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, and slowly, slowly, he pushed into you.

The groan that escaped him was hellish, sinful, practically animalistic as he sheathed himself within you, pushing in to the hilt until he was buried completely in the warmth of your walls. Your eyes never left his face, absolutely living for his expressions of pleasure—his pinched brows, parted lips, heavy breaths. His eyes were squeezed shut as he held himself there for a moment, offering you time to get settled. You didn’t need time. He had opened you up plenty, and your wet channel practically swallowed him with need.

“Alright?”

He breathed, checking to see if you were experiencing any discomfort. You nodded at him and offered a roll of your hips upward, your clit rubbing up against his pubic bone deliciously. He whimpered, pulling his cock out just enough before rocking back into you. You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder as he repeated the motion, pulling out a bit more each time as he gained confidence and momentum. Soon, he was thrusting into you steadily, each move punctuated by barely audible ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds from his lips as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

“Yes, Steven, fuck. Fucking me so well, such a good boy.”

That awoke something in him, and his pace faltered just barely, hips stuttering as he let out a high-pitched whine.

“Shit, shit, don’t—you can’t just—I’m not gonna last, Y/N, fuck.”

The look on his face was pained, sweat sheened on his forehead from how hard he was restraining himself. You wanted—you needed to see him fall apart.

“Want you to cum for me, Steven.”

You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he whimpered, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“No, please, not yet, want—want you to cum on my cock.”

He sounded desperate, frantic, but you could feel within yourself that you weren’t going to get there soon, and he couldn’t hold out much longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you as you cradled his face in your hands, forcing his eyes on yours.

“Need you to cum, Steven, please—please, please, need you to cum for me—”

You clenched your muscles, walls clamping down on him, and with a sharp cry of your name, his cum spilled deep inside you, cock fully nested in your cunt as his spend coated your walls and filled you with warmth. His hips kept thrusting into you, almost of their own volition, forcing his seed deeper and deeper into you as he grunted with each move, face contorted in a look of sheer bliss.

Your hands were stroking his back, fingers tracings patterns on the soft skin as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the crook on your neck, his cock still sheathed within you.

“Good boy.”

You whispered repeatedly, lips pressed to his temple as he caught his breath and tried to slow the rapid thumping of his heart.

“Such a good boy.”

He let out a sigh, nose pressed into the side of your neck as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to sit in the moment and really feel it. The softness of your body beneath him, the comforting swirl of your fingers on his back, the quiet hum of praise eliciting from your lips. He wanted to live in this moment forever.

You shifted, just slightly, from beneath him, and he immediately jumped into action. He pressed a chaste peck to your lips before pulling out of you slowly, taking a second to appreciate the view of his cum leaking out of you before he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet washcloth to clean you up. When he came back, he just had his boxers on, but the toned taupe of his skin still made you blush. His eyes regarded you warmly, reverently, as he wiped away both of your combined arousals from your folds, touch gentle and careful. When he was done, he reached onto the floor to grab his jumper, sitting back up and offering it to you. You smiled graciously, holding your arms in the air like an expectant child as Steven slipped it over your head, pulling your arms through and straightening it down over your body.

God, you looked good in his clothes.

He crawled beside you, nestling in next to you, body curling to fit the curvature of your side. His head found its place in the crook of your neck, the smell of your skin sweet, and he hummed in contentment, relaxing into you. You smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.

“Is... Is this what you’d normally do after sex?”

You asked carefully, hesitantly, afraid to lose the intimacy of the moment. Steven bristled at your words, just slightly, before he sank further into your embrace.

“I mean... in what little experience I have, yeah, I’d say so.”

He offered, voice laced with grogginess, his eyelids drooping. You giggled quietly at his sudden exhaustion, finding the sight quite endearing.

“So you want me to stay, then?”

He lifted his head at your question, worry reflecting in his big brown eyes.

“Did—do you not want to?”

He asked hurriedly, preparing himself for your rejection, but you shook your head defensively.

“No, no! I’m just—this is about you, and what you want out of sex. Do you... I mean, would you expect me to spend the night?”

Steven’s stare was reminiscent of a puppy as he looked up at you, seeming almost lost. Hesitantly, he nodded his head, confirming that he wanted you to stay with him. You smiled softly, pressing a kiss atop his forehead.

“Great—then I’ll stay.”

He relaxed back into you, eyes closing almost immediately, his breaths slowing. After a few minutes, you’d assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then his voice called out softly in the silence.

“M’sorry, by the way.”

Your brows furrowed.

“Sorry? For—for what?”

A long sigh. He buried his face further into your shoulder, hiding himself.

“I didn’t get to—I mean, you weren’t able to—I wanted you to, you know—before me.”

Oh.

His innocent avoidance of vulgarity melted your heart, as it was obviously something he struggled to speak about regularly. You pulled your head back, turning to face him, and he lifted his eyes, cheek smushed against your collarbone. You smiled at him, a hand coming to stroke his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry, Steven. It was perfect.”

You assured, and although he would normally never believe it, something in your eyes was genuine. His lips turned upward at the corners.

“Yeah?”

He asked, excited at the prospect of your validation, and you laughed shortly, smiling wide.

“Yeah.”

With that, Steven let his body meld against yours, finally allowing himself to relax completely and relish in the feeling of being so close to you.

Your mind was already racing with ideas for tomorrow’s trial.

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- being open to unconditional care without obligation of reciprocation

- feeling adequate and worthy of affections

- accepting praise and compliments without denial or doubt

TREATMENT: - receive without giving - deserving of everything and anything (should not have guilt over being pleasured) - high praise and validation

Twelve hours, that was the deal. You needed at least twelve hours apart before you could begin the second phase of research. Partially to record the data you needed and begin developing a profile, but mostly because you knew that both the boys and you would need time to recuperate before going at it again.

Especially Steven.

Standing outside his apartment door, you were somehow more nervous this time around than you were yesterday. You’d spent the night with him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and you’d left early that morning, promising to return in the evening after the appropriate time had elapsed. You’d showered, eaten, relaxed, but mostly, you’d planned. The key to this study, you’d realized, wasn’t actually the sex at all—it was about challenging the alters, exploiting their vulnerabilities. Exposure therapy.

Sexual interactions are intimate. They are reflective of some of our deep-rooted, unconscious desires, and are significantly related to events that occurred in our childhood that shaped our attachments styles. Certain sexual preferences, turn-ons, fetishes, and kinks, are indicative of different cognitive dispositions. You were trying to figure the boys out—using what they wanted to get to what they needed.

You had predicted Steven’s diagnosis from the start.

When the door to his flat swung inward, his eyes were crinkled at the corners from his smile. He looked soft—rosy pink cheeks, mussed brunette curls, baggy sweats—almost as if he’d just woken up. You returned his grin, slipping past him and into the threshold of his flat.

The door slammed shut behind him, and you turned to him, surprised to be met with a slow, deep, passionate kiss, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment before he pulled away.

You blinked.

“Wow.”

You whispered, slightly reeling. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Steven looked down sheepishly.

“Oh, goodness, I don’t—m’sorry, love, I wasn’t really thinking, I just—missed you, s’all.”

He confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. His words pulled at your heartstrings and you walked into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest so you were looking up at him.

“No, don’t be sorry, just—took me by surprise.”

You smiled.

“Hell of a welcome, though.”

He smiled, letting out a nervous breath.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, tilting your head upwards to capture his mouth with your own again. He hummed against you, one hand coming to cup the side of your face and the other pulling you in closer by your waist. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you immediately submitted, parting your lips to grant him full access. He started walking backwards towards the couch, but you pulled away to stop him.

“Bed.”

You whispered, your fuck-me eyes almost making him feel faint. He nodded obediently, kissing you again, and changed direction, guiding you to the other side of the flat. The back of Steven’s calves collided with the mattress and he fell backwards into a sitting position onto the bed, but you stayed standing between his parted legs.

“What’re you doin’, love?”

He asked, laughing almost nervously. You just smirked down at him, leaning over to capture his lips once more. You hands were on his shoulders, traveling down his back and around his neck. His found your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you continued your passionate making out. Finally, you pulled away, but stayed close, nose still brushing his. His eyes were closed.

“Steven.”

You whispered, and he hummed in acknowledgement, an expression of contentment on his face.

“Are you ready?”

His eyes fluttered open, his gaze focusing in on you. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, as if contemplating something.

“Ready? For... for what, exactly?”

You leaned a bit away from him, standing up to your full height. You looked down at him, stroking his hair comfortingly as you addressed him.

“We’re—I’m gonna try something, okay? But I need you to know that you can stop me at any time. Do you know the stoplight system?”

His big brown eyes looked up at you, and he shook his head.

“It’s a technique for safe words. So if I’m doing something and you want me to stop, you say red. If you need me to slow down, you say yellow, and if you’re doing okay and want me to keep going, you say...”

“Green.”

He finished for you, slightly breathless with anticipation. You nodded down at him proudly.

“Yeah, you’ve got it, good boy.”

You heard the way his breath caught in his throat at your praise, and you pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

“So—are you ready?”

The way he looked at you—eyes filled with such wonder, such reverence, such infatuation—filled you with so much pride and confidence. God, you wanted to ruin this man.

“Gods, love, you’re makin’ me a bit nervous.”

He admitted sheepishly, but his breathing stuttered as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in between his legs, placing one hand on each thigh and coaxing them farther apart. He was watching you intently.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart, it’s okay. But remember—you just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

He slowly nodded, waiting earnestly for your next move. You reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it off of him and tossing it to the side. His pants followed shortly thereafter, leaving him only in his boxers. You could see just how hard he already was for you—excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He reached for your shirt, but you tutted at him condescendingly, gently guiding his hands away from you.

“No, sweetheart—this is about you.”

You whispered, returning to your position on your knees in between his legs. He was leaning back, his arms stretched out behind him as he held himself up, watching you. Your fingers were stroking at the skin of his upper thigh, where the leg of his boxers ended. Slowly, your fingers passed over his bulge with a barely-there touch, and he hissed at the ticklish sensation, the muscles of his thighs rippling with strain.

While his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, you took advantage of his temporary distraction and leaned forward to place opened-mouth kisses on his cock through his boxers. The warm heat from your breath passed over him and he groaned, watching as you finally reached up to remove the final barrier between you.

He shifted his hips up to help, and you pulled his boxers down his legs and off of him completely—now, he was completely naked before you, and you were fully clothed.

Perfect.

You settled back in between his legs, fingers slowly creeping up his inner thigh and towards his weeping length. You looked up at him through your lashes, where he was waiting with bated breath.

“Listen to me—you’re gonna cum whenever you want to, whenever you’re ready, okay, Steven?”

He whimpered in response as your fingers skirted around his base. When he didn’t verbally answer, you stopped.

“Okay, Steven?”

“Yes, yeah, alright, yeah.”

He nodded frantically, acknowledging your instruction, and you rewarded him with a grin.

“Good boy.”

Your fingers finally wrapped around the base of his cock and he sighed, groaning as he watched you lean forward and allow a string of spit to dribble through your lips and down onto his awaiting length. You coated your hand with the slickness and started a slow, steady pace, pumping him with a slight twist of your wrist. He whimpered, particularly sensitive when your thumb stroked at the sensitive head at the end of your long up-and-down strokes.

“Shit, Y/N, oh, Gods...”

He whined, his hips slowly starting to react to your pace by thrusting upward into your fist.

“There you go, Steven, doing so well.”

You praised, speeding up the pace of your hand a bit. His lip was pulled between his teeth, as if focusing intently, and you let your other hand come up to cup at his heavy balls. This earned a low groan from him, his hips jolting with each twist of your wrist.

“Shit, shit, you’ve got to slow down, or else—oh, fuck—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I wanna see you let go. It’s okay.”

You whispered sweetly, maintaining your speed but tightening your grip just slightly. The muscles in his abdomen were visibly straining, and you could tell he was close.

“Come on, sweet boy. Cum for me.”

He let out a breathy whine, and you could feel the tightening of his balls as his stomach clenched.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N, oh, mmmmh—”

You kept pumping him as thick spurts of white spilled from his tip, dripping down the sides of his pretty cock as he throbbed beneath your touch. You allowed his spend to drip over your fingers and knuckles as you continued stroking him, pace slowing just slightly, but not entirely.

His head was thrown back, still reeling with aftershocks, and—fuck.

He jolted when he felt the hot sting of your lips, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, cum still dripping over your hands as your wrist twisted around the base. He cried out, hips thrusting upwards, his legs spasming involuntarily as you began bobbing your head up and down repeatedly, eyes on his face as you watched his face scrunch up in pain.

“Oh, Gods, fuck, fuck, what are you—oh, Gods, s’too much, I can’t, stop, please—”

His hands were fisting at the blankets atop his bed, trying his best not to bury his fingers in your hair as you pulled off of him with a gasp, but your hand kept going.

“You gotta use your words, sweet boy.”

You reminded with a sympathetic tone.

“If you want me to stop, use your words.”

You leaned forward to clean up his release from the sides of his cock, tongue gliding at the same speed as your hand. He was hissing through his teeth, legs still kicking every once in awhile with overstimulation. He wasn’t responding, so maybe you should stop, maybe—

“Fuck, fuck—green! Green, I’m—it’s green.”

He cried, and you wrapped your lips back on his cock, starting to bounce your head once more. The cries that were escaping him were delicious—pathetic whines and whimpers, begging incomprehensibly as you tried to keep his cock hard beneath your touch. It was working, because you could see his abdomen clenching again, and each of his panted breaths was paired with a short grunt.

“Oh, fuck, I don’t—oh, gods, it’s—m’gonna cum again, oh, shit, oooh—”

You pushed down on his cock as far as you could take him, and the second he hit the back of your throat, he felt his orgasm rock through him. His legs curled around your back instinctually, holding you in place as his hips thrusted into your mouth. This was different, though, this—his muscles were contracting, balls tightening, but it wasn’t accompanied by his cum down your throat. You gagged on him and he practically yelped, one hand finally reaching up to grab at your hair. He pulled you off of him, and you gasped for air. Your face was red and there was spit smeared across your cheeks and down your chin. When you looked up at Steven, his eyes were red and there were tears in his eyes. Your hand was still on his cock, pumping slowly. His legs were still twitching.

You stood up, finally releasing him, and he collapsed backwards onto the bed, arms eagle-spread on either side of him, panting. But then he heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when he looked up at you, you were undressing.

He stared at you incredulously, and you smirked at him, discarding your pants and panties simultaneously, leaving you completely bare. You approached the bed again, swinging your leg across Steven's waist to straddle him. You held yourself up just a bit so you were hovering over his cock.

“What, you think we’re done already?”

You teased, sinking down to rub your dripping folds over his still half-hard length. His hips jumped at the feeling.

“No, no, I can’t, not—”

He whimpered, and you leaned forward to shush him, giving him a quick kiss. His bottom lip quivered.

“Such a good boy, Steven—you can give me one more.”

You nodded encouragingly, and he whined, his head pressing back into the mattress with frustration. Your hand reached to stroke at his chest.

“Words, Steven. Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You offered, suddenly serious, and he took a few deep breaths, tears trailing down his cheeks. When he opened them again, he looked wrecked, but he met your gaze.

“Green.”

It was barely a whisper, but you heard it. You reached down to wrap your fingers around his slick length once more, stroking him to coax him back to full height. He was still mostly hard, as his second orgasm had occurred in the midst of his refractory period, so fairly soon, his tip was prodding at your awaiting entrance and you stifled a mewl.

“There we go, sweet boy. You ready?”

His brows were pinched, but he nodded, and you slowly, carefully sank down on him, burying him into you all the way to the hilt. He was crying now, sitting upright to wrap his arms around you and hold you close against him as you gave him a moment to adjust. His face was pressed into your shoulder.

“Doing so, so well, for me, Steven. Just give me one more, okay? Whenever you want, whenever you’re ready, give it to me.”

You encouraged, lips pressed against his ear, and you slowly lifted up your hips, sinking back down onto him as he whined into you.

“Oooh—oooh—”

“Shh, shh—I know, sweetheart, I know.”

You cooed, cupping the back of his head with one hand as you continued to roll your hips, grinding back and forth against his lap. You were entirely focused on Steven and helping him reach his peak, but still, the way the tip of his cock prodded at something deep inside you was addictive.

“Such a big cock, Steven, fills me up so good.”

He was panting, you could feel his thighs trembling beneath you as you bounced on him, picking up your speed.

“Being such a good boy. Can you give me one more, huh? Think you can?”

He was sobbing, hips jolting every time your weight came to settle back down onto his balls, skin sticky with sweat as you held him close to you.

“Oh, please, please, please, I’m so close, oh fuck—please, I can’t—”

You bounced on him harder, feeling the ripple of tension in his shoulder blades as his body was wracked with sobs.

“Oh, yes, gonna cum, gonna cum, Y/N, gonna—oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck fuck—”

His teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder as his cock pulsed within you, and you granted him the kindness of stopping the roll of your hips so he could thrust into you, his seed painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You could feel the hot, wet tears from his eyes against the skin of your shoulder, and you held him close to you, cradling his head against you and rocking him gently.

“Good boy, Steven, so proud of you. Did so, so well for me. My sweet, sweet boy.”

You peppered kisses to the crown of his head, burying your face in his curls as he clung to you desperately, and you stayed there until you felt the drumming of his heart slow and his breathing even out. You slowly, carefully peeled yourself away from him, his softened and sensitive cock slipping out of you as you shakily got to your feet. He whined at the loss of contact, reaching for you, but you shushed him.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

You followed his lead from yesterday, cleaning yourself up in the bathroom before bringing a damp rag to wipe away the arousal that was drying against his thighs. He hissed at your touch, but you gently cleaned him up, returning to the bathroom again. You considered slipping his jumper on, but for some reason, you felt the need to be as close to Steven as possible. You’d pushed him to his limit, and you wanted to be there for him in every sense of the word.

When you came back to the bed, you gestured for him to crawl up towards the pillows. He obliged, albeit a bit shakily, and you pulled the covers back for him as he curled up beneath them. You joined him immediately after, fitting your body to the curve of his back and wrapping your arms around his warm abdomen. You pressed a few gentle kisses against the back of his neck, the top of his spine, across his shoulders. He hummed in response.

“You feel okay?”

You asked quietly, words muffled in his skin. He scooted away so he could turn to face you. His eyes were red, but there was a glimmer of calmness in them—the high-strung Steven looked truly relaxed.

“Feel floaty.”

You laughed at his drawled words, hands reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. Your thumbs stroked against each of his cheeks gently, soothing.

“You really did so well, Steven. Thank you.”

Your eyes were soft, and you saw the way his lips quirked at the corners at your approval.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—I mean, if you’d still like to—”

You sent him a glare, and he immediately silenced himself, gaze casting downward and away from you.

“No. This was about you, Steven, about you feeling good and that’s it. It was perfect. I loved it.”

His eyes brightened.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You assured, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly as a warm, fuzzy feeling overtook him.

“S’just—wish I’d gotten the chance to—”

“Next time, Steven, okay?”

You regarded him carefully, tone gentle. His brows furrowed.

“But—my turn’s done. S’just—Marc and Jake, and then—”

“Next time.”

You reiterated, and when your words finally sank in, the smile that lit up his face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, embracing you tightly like he never wanted to let go.

TAGS: @kezibear143 @gingermous

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starryevermore · 2 years

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to be loved by the moon ✧ steven grant

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Heyy I love your fics. Can I request for somnophilia with any of the moon boys but consensual from both sides

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: when you ask steven to try something, he knows he’ll do anything to make you happy.

word count: 1,134

warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, somnophilia, p in v, unprotected sex, pet name (love), not proofread

Steven felt like a pervert. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. You wore a thin tank top, the peaks of nipples poking out. For a moment, Steven considered rolling you over, pulling your shirt up, taking your nipple in his mouth. But…well, if he was going to be a perv, he’d rather go full perv.

Not that he actually would be a pervert. This was something that you wanted, something you asked for. And it was something he had eagerly agreed to in the moment. Now? Now, he was scared that you would change your mind the second he started doing anything. And he hated to make you uncomfortable.

“Have you ever wanted to something more adventurous things in bed?” you’d asked one night a few weeks ago, nestled in his arms.

“What did you have in mind, love?” Steven asked.

Of course, this was one of his fears. Compared to Marc, he was far less experienced in the sex department. And where Jake lacked in experience, too, he made up for in passion. But when Steven was fronting? Well, he was sure most people would label it as the most vanilla of vanilla sex. Though you did reassure him that you loved vanilla, he still feared that he didn’t do enough to make you happy. That you secretly preferred Jake or Marc or both.

“I’d been thinking…Well, it’s been a sort of fantasy of my mind…I read it in a book, you know,” you stammered.

Steven grabbed one of your hands, lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You don’t need to be nervous. You can tell me anything, love. I’ll never, ever judge you. That’s a promise.”

“I was…reading a romance book,” you finally said. “And in it, the guy and the girl decided they wanted…You know, for the guy to wake up the girl by fucking her. And I…like, really liked that.”

“And you want to do that with me?” Steven asked, almost embarrassed by how the mere idea of making love to you in your sleep got him so hard.

“I mean, if you want to. I know you like your routine, and I don’t wanna make you feel like you’re being forced into it—”

Steven leaned in, kissing you. When he pulled away, his mouth lifted in a smile. “I wanna do it, love. I really, really, really wanna do it, too.”

Two weeks later, Steven found himself presented with the opportunity. And though he still really, really, really wanted to it, he was equally scared of making you feel creeped out. But…you did ask for it. And if you told him to stop, he would, no questions asked. And then he could make it up to you, making you a cup of tea and put on your favorite movie until you were able to fall asleep again. Take you on a date the next day, get you flowers. Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do if this goes wrong.

So, slowly, Steven pulled down your cotton shorts and lacy panties, exposing you to him. He took himself out, shuffling closer to you so that your back was pressed against his chest. Snaking one arm around you, he reached between your legs, rolling your clit between his fingers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you whimpered in your sleep.

One finger pressed into your slick cunt, another soon following, scissoring in and out of you, slowly working you open for him.

“Such a good girl, love,” Steven said, testing the phrase out. Steven didn’t talk much during sex, mostly a mess of moans and whimpers. But he’d heard Marc say it once when Marc was having sex with you, and he remembered how you preened under his praise. And though you couldn’t really hear him, he imagined you would have the same reaction for him.

“Fuck, you feel so good, love. So perfect, even when you’re a sweet sleeping beauty.” He was impossibly hard at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his fingers. He couldn’t stand it anymore, as much as he loved having his fingers buried in you. “Are you ready for me, love? Ready for me to make your dreams come true?”

Steven felt a bit silly, especially since you weren’t awake to respond. But it did make him feel like less of a creep, so he kept it up, whispering about how you were so good for him as he slowly pushed his cock in you, rocking his hips against yours, swirling his finger over your clit.

A quiet moan slipped past your lips as Steven’s thrusts grew faster, a bit more erratic. Steven ducked his head down, pressing kisses up and down your throat.

“You’re so amazing, love,” he said, nipping at your earlobe. “Feel so bloody good. Such a good girl for me, yeah? Letting me fuck you in your sleep? The best fucking girl—”

Your eyes flew open as your moans grew louder. “Steven?” you finally managed to get out. “Oh, fuck! Oh, please keep doing that, oh my god—”

One of his hands gripped your breast, squeezing it, using it as leverage as he rutted his hips against yours. “You like that, love? You like being fucked awake?” Your cunt fluttered against his cock, and he knew you were close. “Oh, yeah, you do, don’t you? Tell me how much you love it, love.”

“Love it so fucking much, oh my god! Please, please, don’t ever stop! Oh god, feels so, so good, Steven!” You gasped, arching your back against him. “Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum—”

“Cum for me, cum all over my cock, love.”

You screamed as you came, the feeling of your pussy squeezing Steven’s cock sending him over the edge.

“Shit, I’m right behind you, love,” he managed to get out before his thick, white ropes of cum painted your insides, his thrusts growing slower until he finally stilled, pulling out of you.. As your thighs shook and you panted, Steven threaded his fingers with your own, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Did you like that? Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Mm, it was perfect.” You lifted your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss to the top of his hand. “Thank you so much, Steven. Did you like it too?”

“Bit awkward at first, not gonna lie, love. But once I got into it, it was amazing,” he confessed. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder. “So…”

“So?”

“You up for a second round?”

You laughed, turning over to face him. You took his face in your hands, pulling in for a kiss. “For you, my love? Always.”

#steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fan fic #steven grant fan fiction #steven grant fanfiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

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romanarose · 2 years

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Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Chapter 20

Steven Grant X OC X Marc Spector

Master List here

Chapter 19 : Chapter 21

Fic Summary: Steven meets Sam and they strike up a quick relationship, both kindhearted and loving, they fall fast. But both have a lot going on. Steven had Marc and Moon Knight, and Sam has mental health problems of her own. Slowly, Steven starts to put together pieces of her story as Sam starts to get to know Marc and Jake. The four of them learn to navigate Sam's depression, family, and traumatic past as Sam helps Steven Marc and Jake navigate each other.

Chapter summary: Christmas day! THIS CHAPTER LONG AS HELL! I needed to get all this in together cuz the next chapter's flow is more important sooooo this is what you get! Sam's dad is horrible, more insight into the sibling dynamics and Sam's mom's being... her mom. Plus! We finally get bottom!Marc!

WARNINGS!!!: Mentions of Jordan and what he did (SA stuff), family problems, lots of yelling and people being drunk and mean. P in V sex, light bondage, rough sex, Sub! Marc Dom!Sam, choking, face sitting, manhandling, uuuggggghhh thats it? i think? LMK if i missed something

Steven didn’t sleep much that night.

You guys notice how her dad doesn’t acknowledge Chris at all?

Yeah, but he wont shut up about Ben.

And the little digs he makes at Sam are driving me fucking crazy. I don’t know how we’re gonna do this two more days.

One day and one morning.

I don’t know how they are gonna take it. They drank a lot. Everyone's going to be hung over.

Chris was getting a little aggressive.

Teresa cleared everyone out when he started swearing.

Maybe Chris has a little more going on than we know.

She idolizes him. She would’ve told us if there was anything to know.

You know how she is with her secrets

She idolizes him. She may not even notice anything’s wrong.

Teresa notices.

Yeah, what’s up with her? This is not how Sam described her.

Can you guys stop analyzing my girlfriend’s family?

Our girlfriend.

Right, sorry. Still getting used to that, mate.

It’s alright buddy. Try to get some sleep.

Steven woke up to Simon shaking him “Breakfast.”

“Thank you Simon.” He mumbled. Chris was walking upstairs in his PJ’s, so he assumed they were staying in them.

Everyone was tired, but their mom had made stockings for them all (including Steven), so they put on a good show, but Sam was pulling out a bottle of wine.

Everyone is starting already.

Except Teresa…

“Sam!” Steven all but squealed when he opened his gifts. “You got me two?”

Sam giggled “I couldn’t decide, darling. Open them!”

Steven opened his first one “Oh love! I love it!” His first gift was a TARDIS teapot.

Dave, of course, had a snide comment. He was on his third beer “Steven, blink twice if you need help”

Steven ignored him and opened his second gift.

Sam talked as he opened the wrapping “This one I’m not sure if you’ll really use and it’s totally okay if you don’t-”

“Sam, it’s beautiful…” He held up a leatherbound book decorated in gold hieroglyphs.

She leaned over to show the book, opening the leather binding and clasp. “It’s a journal, I know you don’t exactly journal but I thought maybe you’d like to start, or just for taking notes or studying…”

Steven turned to face her, her lips so close to his that he couldn’t help but give a kiss “These are amazing love, thank you. You really know me so well…”

Sam turned to her family as she and Steven sat on the floor “Steven already gave me my gift, he got me that lovely leather jacket, with Chris’s help.”

“Did Chris pay for it?” Dave asked.

Chris groaned “Jesus, dad, no. I just picked it up in Dover, he sent me the fucking money.” His voice was raised.

Dave acted defensive. “I’m just saying, I can’t imagine a gift shop worker is making much money.”

Sam: “Dad, stop.”

Dave “I mean, what’s the plan for the future? You gonna work in a daycare and a gift shop your whole lives?”

“Dad, can we not do this?”

“We’re not doing anything. I’m just asking what the plan is.”

“That’s not your business. What Steven makes has nothing to do-” Steven squeezed Sam’s hand. He thought about what Sam said about how Dave would try to bait him into an argument by insulting Sam, but right now it seemed that he was baiting Sam by insulting him. He was touched that she was so defensive of him, but he thought of her siblings, how she needed to remain in contact, so he squeezed her hand and whispered “It’s okay, Sweetheart.”

Sam dropped it and looked away. Chris and Dave both took long drinks.

Jo broke the silence. “Oh Sam, I saw one of your friends at the store last week!”

Everyone shifted to pretend that the last few minutes didn’t happen.

“Oh? Who was it?”

“Jordan I think? He said he worked with you at the store?”

Steven felt a sharp pain as Sam gripped his hand with such a force that he had to stop himself from yelping. Fuck, fuck, fuck Sam immediately looked to Chris, who looked more sober than he’s been since the drive over. She was frozen.

“Sam?” Steven whispered. “Do you need to step outside?”

Sam was incapable of answering. As soon as Jordan’s name was mentioned, a white hot wave took over her body. She barely registered what Steven said, only ground in reality by the gentle hold of his hand and Chris’s eyes connected her hers.

Chris spoke up. “What did he say, mom?” he tried to act casual despite the anger fuming in him.

Jo was oblivious to what was happening, but Marc noticed Teresa and Benedict gance at each other. They seemed to be able to communicate with their eyes the way Sam and Chris could.

“Oh nothing much, he said he recognized me from when I’d come into the store and talked to Sam. He asked if Sam was coming to town for the holidays.”

Steven didn’t think it was possible for her grip to get tighter, but it did. He placed his free hand over her’s subtly for more assurance as Sam’s eyes left Chris and hit the floor.

Sam squeaked out a response “What did you tell him”

“I said that you and Chris were going to be here for the weekend. He’s living in London, he told me he ran into you a few months ago! It’s always nice to see old friends, isn’t it? I told him you were joining us, Steven, he seemed jealous” She laughed “I remember him from when you worked there, I always thought you’d be a cute couple.”

Sam couldn’t respond. He knew where she was.

Chris finished his drink and stood up “Sam, smoke break?”

“Yeah” she managed shakily. Steve helped her stand and grabbed her coat to take her outside. As soon as she was on the back porch, she leaned over the patio and started heaving. Steven quickly threw her coat over her shoulders and held her hair back as some of breakfast finally ended her heaves.

He heard the backdoor open, Chris came out carrying drinks and Steven’s coat which he handed to Steven.

“Thanks, mate.”

Sam stood back up, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Chris, he knows I’m here.”

Chris’s words were still slightly slurred, but Steven could tell he was trying to keep a handle on things “He also knows I’m here, he’s not gonna try anything knowing Steven and I are here.”

“Jesus, Chris, did you hear what mom said? That we’d be a cute couple. I’m gonna be sick again.” She leaned over the balcony but nothing came out. “I was 17, he was 28. Christ what is wrong with her?”

Steven turned his head to the door and he heard it open. It was Ben.

“What’s going on?” He looked irritated, confused, but concerned.

Chris began to guide him back inside “It’s nothing, Ben.”

He stayed put, glaring at Chris “You told me you were going to let me in on your weird little meetings! Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing, Ben” Chris repeated with more assertion.

“SAM IS PUKING!” Ben shouted as he pointed at her. “She does that when things are very, very wrong”

“BEN!” Sam, still facing away from him and hanging over the balcony. “GET. OUT!”

Ben took a step towards Sam, but Steven instinctively put a hand out to stop him. “Ben, no” He hoped his face conveyed that he wasn’t looking for a fight, just to keep Sam safe.

Chris took Ben’s arm. “This isn’t a family thing, this is a personal thing. I promise.” He began pulling him to the door and Ben was going this time.

“Fine. But you guys can’t keep Teresa and me out of everything forever. We’re gonna figure out what’s going on. You say it’s personal but Sam’s shit always affects the entire family-”

“Ben. Go.” Chris asserted for a final time,

Ben took one more look at Sam leaning over the edge. He looked pained, but left. Steven went back over to Sam, rubbing her back. “Sam, love, it’s going to be okay. I won’t leave you alone, not for a second. We won’t let him hurt you.” Steven emphasized ‘we’, hoping it was communicated Marc as well. “I will never allow him to hurt you. Not again.”

Chris smoked his cigarette, watching Steven coax Sam back to reality. When she finally stood up, her face was more pale than usual, she gestured for a smoke. Chris handed her one and a light “Sam, you didn’t tell me you saw him…” He spoke quietly.

Sam took a long, long drag of her cigarette. “It was a long weekend.”

She explained what happened.

“Jesus,” Chris muttered. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“Chris stop”

“I’m serious Sam! I’m gonna fucking kill that jackass, he’s a peice of shit and deserves to die!” He was getting loud, and Steven instinctively moved ever so slightly in front of Sam. He must be an aggressive drunk.

“Can the two of you stop doing that?” She motioned to Steven and Chris, but hoped he knew she meant Marc and Jake, not Steven. I’ve asked you both not to do anything else. I’ve got enough going on without feeling guilty for him dying.”

Chris stepped forward “You have enough going on without him doing that to you again-”

Steven was directly in front of Sam. “Chris, stop. This isn’t about you, this is about Sam. Drop it.”

For the first time since knowing Chris, he felt his glare on him. “Are you serious? How long have you been with her, three months? I’ve been involved in all this,” Chris gestured to Sam and their childhood home vaguely as he stepped closer to Steven. “My whole life.You don’t get to show up and suddenly think you know what’s happening, not after three months. You notice how I don’t a girlfriend to bring over for Christmas? I don’t have time for actual dating, between work and all 7 of them. Her shit has always been a part of my life, it is a key feature in my life. My childhood was defined by her shit! ”

Steven pulled Chris away from Sam, over to the door. He spoke quietly, hoping Sam couldn't hear. “Stop. Do not yell at her.” Steven was trying to keep his cool. He needs to step away or I’m going to kick his ass. And you say I have a temper Steven calmed himself and sighed. “Listen. You’ve spent your life trying to take care of her and all those other kids and I really thank you for that, for keeping her as safe as you could. But if you are going to yell at her, I need you to take a step back. From her at least. I’ve got her.”

A choked sob came from behind him. Sam.

Chris’s eyes darted over to Sam and back to Steven. “Fine, Steven. Fine. You can take over. But when you’re sick of it, when you leave her, and you’re going to because it’s a lot, it’s going to be me again. Because I don’t get to walk away from them when I’m tired of it.” He was definitely speaking loud enough for Sam to hear; it likely wasn’t intentional, but he was a loud drunk.

“But you need to walk away, now.” Steven opened the door and practically pushed him inside.

This is going great.

Jesus, it’s only 11 am.

Steven turned back around. Sam was sitting on the porch deck. She had grabbed one of the drinks Chris had brought out and started a new cigarette. Steven joined her on the floor.

Tears were running down her cheeks, but her face was blank. “I’m tired, Steven.”

He wanted to take her hand, but between the drink and the cigarette, her hands were full. That’s a bit of a symbolic picture What are you talking about, Jake. Her hands are full with cigarettes and alcohol, no room for your hand. Jesus, did you stretch before that reach? Shut up, both of you. We need to focus.

There was a moment of silence

“It was always going to be me”

Steven jumped a bit at her sudden words. “What do you mean, Sweetheart?”

Her eyes looked dead as she stared off at nothing. “I read a statistic when I was 13 or 14 or something where 1 in 3 women are raped in their life time and I thought about my friend group, there were 4 other girls at the time and I thought ‘Yeah it’s gonna be me’”

Jesus Christ… Steven felt like his heart was breaking for her. “Sam…”

She wasn’t listening. She took a drag. “They were good, christian girls. I was still christian but something was always… off with me. Ever since I was a kid. Something was wrong. That’s why my dad did all that to me.”

“Sam, please, don’t-” It hurt so bad to see her like this, literally falling apart in front of him.

“There was always something wrong. I knew something was wrong with me when I read that statistic, I knew it would be me. I was always the kind of girl to go out and get drunk and not be careful and always wanted male attention and always flirted but when someone took me up on the flirt I’d freak out and it was only a matter of time until my shit caught up to me”

“Please don’t”

“I had this coming, I always had this coming. And the worst part is…” She finally turned to him, meeting his concerned and terrified eyes. “I know it’s not over. Something else is going to happen. I don’t know what it is, but I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. I never changed. I still drink, I still talk to strangers and do stupid shit. It’s coming. It was always gonna be me-”

Steven couldn’t take it anymore. “Sam stop! Please stop…” He pleaded the last part, he couldn’t take her talking about herself like that.

“Steven!” She looked frantically at him, trying to convince him to hate her as much as she hated herself. “Think about the night we met Steven. I literally was attacked because I picked a fight with a man on the street, and then I let you walk me home and I invited you up to my apartment!”

Give me the body Steven

No way, I can handle this

Steven, I’m asking you out of courtesy, but it’s not really a question.

…fine…

Steven was none too happy, but he supposed they could discuss this later.

Marc pushed forward, speaking a bit louder than me meant to “What is going on with you?” Calm down there a bit mate. He took a short breath. “Sam, you would never, ever, talk about another woman like this. Do you think Elena deserved what happened at the bar because she had been drinking?”

Sam stared at him, her face almost blank.

“No, you wouldn’t. You have so much grace and love for everyone around you, can’t you extend a little for yourself?”

Sam leaned into Marc, allowing him to wrap an arm around her to protect from the cold.

Sam never answered his question.

Lunch went smoothly. Afterwards, Steven and Sam walked around the house to get some space. She held his hand as she showed him the pictures on the walls. Without knowing them, you’d think that they were the perfect, big, happy family. Beach days, camping trips, building snowmen. A very involved family. At least it seemed that way. Many memories seemed good. Sam spoke fondly of pretending to be a mermaid with Teresa and Philomena at the ocean and recounted the games they’d all play in the woods.

“There were good times. Lots of good times. I can't say that things weren’t fun. I had what might’ve been that funnest and most chaotic childhood possible. My parents were very involved and with all my siblings, I always had someone to play with… We had to be close… The siblings that trauma bond together stay together…”

“It looks like a lot of fun. You look genuinely happy in these pictures.” He was looking at a secondary school age photo of Sam and Chris at the end of a slip and slide, Sam had just slid into Chris, taking him out like a bowling pin. She was grinning, had that carefree look on her face that was framed by wet auburn.

“Is this okay? I know things with… well I know you didn’t…” have this she wanted to say. His memories may or may not be real, and Marc… Well, Marc probably wishes his weren’t real.

He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “I love this, I love seeing you grow up through the years, seeing who you were before I met you.”

“Hey Marc this is from that prom I told you about.”

Marc fronted, looking closely at the picture. It was Sam, Chris and Sam’s date. “Hm. He really left you when you looked like that?” Sam was wearing her usual colors, red and black in a big, poofy, glamorous dress. Her hair was done in 50’s barrel rolls and her red lipstick completed the almost old hollywood look. “You could do better than him”

Sam kissed him cheek. “Oh, I most definitely did.”

They strolled into the hall, where 8 pictures hung in a row: Chris, Sam, Ben, Teresa, Dom, Mena, and Simon, all looking around age 7 and dressed up. The boys in little suits, the girls in pretty white dresses.

“First Communion.” Sam clarified. “Mary will have her’s this spring.”

“Ah” He looked at little Sam. “Your hair was really red back then.” She had red/orange hair in this picture, curled down past her shoulders. She had bangs and was missing both her front teeth.

“Yeah, it faded out by the time I was in high school”

“I love, your hair, baby” Marc whispered.

Sam nudged him with her hip. “I know you do” He took every opportunity to touch her hair, play with it, pull it. Steven came back.

“My front teeth didn’t come in until a year later, it was terrible” She giggled, but paused. Sam spoke quietly. “I was hit the first time this weekend. Everything was so stressful because some family was flying out from the states… Sometimes I look at pictures of little me and I just… I can’t believe…”

“Can’t believe someone would hurt that?” Steven finished for her.

“She was so little…” Sam shook her head vigorously like an etch a sketch and moved on. “You gotta see Simon’s, he looks like a little cherobim with his blond curls and chunky cheeks.”

Then, there was dinner, which did not go smoothly.

Everything was perfectly fine until Benedict mentioned how his first semester of law school was going great. Perfectly innocent. But Dave had to take a chance to use his golden boy to make a dig at Sam.

“If you had stayed in school, you could be in school with him” He pointed out.

“Dad.” Sam spoke carefully. “If I was in school with Ben, I would be miserable. I hated law. I love childcare.”

Dave scoffed. “No one goes into law because they like it.”

“Well!” Sam exclaimed in the overly-cheerful way she spoke when trying to keep her cool. “Either way, I enjoy what I do, I’m happy.”

“I don’t just want my kids to be happy, I want them to be successful.”

“I know you do, and yet! Here I am! Happy.” She was smiling, but her smile was strained.

Chris: “Breath, Sam.”

“Sammie, what's the plan for the future?”

She sighed as 4 of her siblings took drinks. “To be the director of a day care, dad It’s decent money, relax”

Steven was fighting the urge to step in. He placed a hand on her leg that he said said ‘I got you’ You gotta say something She can handle it, she asked us to stay out of it.

“Don’t come crying to me when you and Steven can’t feed your kids.” Dave shoveled a spoonful of food in his mouth and took a big drink.

“Well, good thing we don’t want kids!” She smiled, challenging her dad to say something. She was giving crazy eyes.

There was a pause. All the kids avoided looking at anyone except for Teresa and Ben who glanced at each other, waiting for the blow up.

It was her mom who broke the silence. “No kids?”

Sam rubbed her face.

Chris chimed in “Relax ma, you have 7 other kids to give you grandkids.”

Dave: “Is this because of your whole ‘depression’ thing?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, dad, we just don’t want kids. But the depression doesn’t help.”

“Jesus, Sammie, you use that as your excuse for everything. No kids, babysitting for a job, dropping out of school.”

“It’s not babysitting-” Sam started

But Steven couldn’t help himself. “She got all A’s!” He exclaimed with a smile. “She’s at the top of her class. Despite the depression and working almost full time, she got all A’s…” Steven turned at her, beaming with pride, hoping she wasn’t mad. She wasn’t. She looked at him with all the love in the world.

Dave wasn’t satisfied. “All A’s in a childcare course doesn’t really mean a whole lot.”

Marc took over, unable to keep it together. “What’s your problem?” He tried his best to talk like Steven. “You can’t just be happy that she’s happy? Nothing is ever going to be good enough for you, is it?”

Sam whispered “Baby, stop.” She knew it was Marc right away.

He did not. “Chris is a hot-shot lawyer and you barely look at him, Teresa isn’t a lawyer but you worship her, despite her fiance being a piece of shit. It’s just because of Sam, you have a problem with her for some reason and you always have.”

“Stop.” Sam spoke more firmly.

A shift. “You are just angry because she’s happy. No matter how hard you’ve tried to take her down, she’s still happy and you're miserable. All the money and success and a loving family in front of you and you can’t stop feeling miserable because they all hate you.”

“Steven!” Sam Shouted, standing up.

“SMOKE BREAK!” They look over. It was Benedict, picking up on Chris’s tricks. “Steven, let's go.”

Steven, Sam, Ben and Chris stood outside smoking in awkward silence. Sam was fuming.

“Wow Steven, I didn’t think you had it in you.” Ben commented.

“Yeah.” Steven muttered. “Me neither.” Steven was none too thrilled.

Sam tossed her cigarette that wasn’t even half smoked. “Steven, can I speak to you alone?” It wasn’t a question.

“That was a perfectly good cigarette…” Chris lamented as Sam dragged Steven away and to the room she was sharing with Teresa.

“What the FUCK was that about?” Sam tried not to shout.

“Sam I’m sorry-” Steven started, but Sam held out a hand. “Not you, Sunshine. Give me Marc.”

Good luck, Mate “Well, I’m not sorry, actually. He had it coming.”

Sam ran her fingers through her hair and rested them behind her head, eyes wide and frantic. “I specifically asked you not to do this! You’re lucky he didn’t lose his goddamn shit, Marc! What if he freaked out?”

“I wouldn’t let him hurt you, Sam.”

“I’M NOT WORRIED ABOUT MYSELF MARC! Fuck! Fuck. I’m sorry.” Sam took a deep breath, closed her eyes and pulled at her hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry I have to stop yelling. But Christ, Marc! You have to be able to control yourself.”

“I was defending you, Sam!”

“This isn’t about me, this is about your ego and your need to show off! And telling my dad his family hates him? What the fuck was that about?”

Marc shifted his weight to his other foot. “Actually, that wasn’t me.”

“That was Steven?” Sam looked confused.

“That was Jake…”

Sam smacked her forehead. “Great.”

“You guys seem to be getting along awfully well…” Marc mumbled.

“Stop” Sam’s Chicago accent slipped out with a thick ‘stahp’. “You don’t get to be jealous right now. I’ll deal with Jake later, but right now I’m mad at you.” Sam glared, but Marc wasn’t so sure.

Look at her tongue, Ese.

“You sure about that, baby?”

She glared harder. “What?”

Marc couldn’t help the smirk that was spreading across his face, “You're doing that tongue thing…”

Well, now she was confused and annoyed. “What tongue thing?”

He stepped closer to her. “Your tongue, you run it between your teeth when you’re turned on.”

Sam stopped, slipping her tongue in her mouth and closing it. “Fuck” she muttered at herself. There was a moment of thick tension as Marc smiled his stupid, shit-eating grin at her, knowing her was right.

“See,” Marc took another slow step to her and she pretended to be mad. “I have a theory. I think you get turned on when me or Steven are protective.” Another step. “So you can pretend to be mad at me for standing up to your dad…” He was standing so close to her, their bodies almost touching as he leaned in. “But I think if I touched you right now, you’d be soaked.”

Damn, he was right. She was drenched. But she was also actually mad, and he was being infuriating. With a frustrated growl, she took his plaid Christmas pj’s in a tight grip and turned, shoving him against the wall and attacking his mouth with a ferocity she was not used to. Sam was angry and so, so turned on. She dropped his pants and practically ripped off his shirt as he stepped out of the flannel on the floor.

“Fuck baby, maybe I should piss you off more often.”

“Shutupshutupshutup” she spit the words at him, needing him to be quiet. “No one can hear us, or you’ll be fucking dead.”

“Understood, pretty girl.” Marc kissed back, attempting to gain dominance in the kiss, but Sam was determined to keep him in his place and pressed her forearm into his chest, effecting keeping him against the wall. Marc was significantly stronger than her, they both knew that, but Marc was interested in seeing where Sam was going with this.

She pulled away, glancing at his kissed bruised lips and golden caramel skin. “Get on the bed.” Sam demanded, but Marc didn’t move, testing her. It was almost comical, her attempt to pull him to the bed would be fruitless if he didn’t let her. “Go.” she shoved him down, and he scooted up so his legs also rested on the bed. She locked the door and walked to the end of the bed.

Sam dropped her pants, revealing she wasn’t wearing underwear, and crawled towards where Marc laid. “You gonna behave, pretty boy?” She straddled him, feeling his chest.

“Probably not.” He raised his arms to touch her over the Pj’s, but she slapped them away, hard.

“No touching.” Sam insisted, placing her hands firmly on his chest before leaning over to whisper in his ear “Is this okay Marc?”

He smiled, she always had his comfort in mind. “Yeah, let’s see what you got, Sam.”

Sam kissed his neck before replying “Tell me if you need me to stop or slow down okay?” Sam had asked Marc last week if he thought they should have a safe word. Marc had said they could, but there was nothing he wanted to do to her that involved ignoring if she said ‘no’ or ‘stop’. They decided on the stoplight system, that way Marc could check in on Sam easily. He was always the one in control; he loved that she trusted him enough to hand it over. It made him feel loved that she wanted to make sure he felt safe. He never talked about his mom, but Sam knew what she did.

Sam sat up again, rocking her hips over his boxers. “No touching, be quiet, and don’t come until I give you permission, okay?”

“Mmmm” Marc groaned under her hips. “Maybe…”

Sam wanted to slap him, but wasn’t sure if that was a line she wanted to cross. Instead, she stopped her movements and climbed off of him, making him swear. Sam awkwardly scooted up the bed, situating herself behind Marc’s head. They hadn’t done this yet, seemed like the time to try. “Tap my thigh twice if you need to breathe, okay?”

He smiled up at her “I’m ready to suffocate”

Despite the fact she was still furious with him, she had to look away before he saw her smile. He still saw. She loved him, so, so much. Climbing on top, she started to sit on his face, but didn’t genuinely want to make it hard to breathe. Until Marc broke a rule, grabbing her thighs and pulling her down onto his mouth. Fuck, that felt good. His tongue deep inside her, his lips moving over her folds and his nose hitting juuuust the right spot when she moved over him. But touching wouldn’t do. She sat back, looking down at him, his handsome face wet with her slick and smirking.

Sam slapped him lightly, and he grinned at her. “You can do it harder, Brightside, I won’t break.” Sam obliged him, giving a good smack this time. She saw his cock twitch with the impact, he liked it. “Do that again and I might have to tie you up.” She threatened as she sat back down on him, rocking herself over his face. She didn’t know what came over her, but when she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, she couldn’t help herself. Sam wrapped both hands around him. She knew not to apply too much pressure so she didn’t hurt him, but she squeezed around the edges. Marc picked up his pace, moaning into her cunt, her thighs thankfully muffling the sound. She felt like she was close to orgasm but she just. Couldn't. Get there.

“Fuck!” She muttered, climbing off him.

“What’s wrong?” He looked so young, his brown curls wild and wet.

“Nothing baby” she lied “You just feel so good.”

He bought it. She was back on top of him, her body slithering over him. “Please let me touch you, please…” he whispered, fully erect under her. “I was good”

He was good. “My tits only.” Sam insisted, her wet pussy practically fucking his clothed cock under her. Marc did as told, initially. When Sam sat up to allow him access, he groped at her, tweaking her nipple between his fingers. But god, he wanted all of her. Marc moved his hands lower, testing the waters, and Sam was temporarily distracted by how good he felt. When she realized he was almost touching her clit, she ripped his hand off her and slapped him across his face. “I warned you.”

Sam got off him and went to the closet and found a black belt. Walking over to the headpost, she roughly grabbed his arms and strung them out over him and to the bedpost, tying him to the bed by the belt. She then, thankfully, pulled down his boxers, his poor, aching cock throbbing for her. “Fuck baby…” She muttered under her breath and she situated herself over her. Sam took him in her hand, stroking him as she placed him ready to enter her. Marc was impatient, rutting his hips up into her hand. Sam pressed him down with her free hand, her touch gentle around his pelvis. “Let go baby.” she whispered, massaging his chest and shoulders. “We’re safe here, you can let go” Marc was staring at her, wide eyed. “Let me take care of you, my love, like you take care of me” and just like that, Marc relaxed under her. Sam lowered herself onto him and Marc bit back a moan, the gutteral sounds coming from his throat still apparent.

“Fuck baby…” Sam spoke quietly “God, that’s just right… you fit so perfectly in me.” Marc didn’t dare reply, he was so vocal in bed, he knew anything he said would turn into a loud moan, giving away their secret.

A knock on the door. Sam froze with Marc deep inside her. “Sam?” It was Teresa.

“Yeah?” Sam tried to sound as normal as possible. To Marc’s horror, she began rocking back and forth again. A tiny grunt escaped Marc, and Sam slapped a hand over his pretty mouth and she kept pumping him. She shot him a warning glare. “What do you need T?”

“Can I hang out with you? Dad’s being an asshole right now.”

The look Sam gave Marc wasn’t a warning, it was more ‘see? Told you.’ “Steven I are having a talk right now sweetie.” Sam reaches over, grabbing the boxers she left on the bed. Taking her hand off Marc, she stuffed the boxers into his mouth so she can lean back, putting her hands on Marc’s perfect thighs.

“Don’t go too hard on him.”

Sam arched her back, bouncing up and down on his cock. Marc watched in awe, her red hair hanging back and her tits bouncing. Sam smiled, watching Marc watch her body. “Oh, I think I have to go hard on him.” Sam could see a smile on his face, despite the underwear stuffing him. “I think he has that coming.

“Mary is looking for Steven, I think she has a crush.”

Sam laughed aloud at this. “Yeah, I noticed.” Sam picked up the pace. “Steven and I will finish up, then we can go do something while dad calms down, okay?”

Marc glanced over to the bed stand, looking at the picture and Sam wondered if Steven was watching in the reflection.

“Okay, hurry up.” Teresa called, and Sam listened to the footsteps as she walked away.

Once she was gone, Sam took a moment to admire the man under her “fuck baby, you look real good like this…” She took the underwear out of Marc’s mouth “Give me a color, honey.”

To Sam’s delight, he smiled. “Green.”

She smiled back. “Are you ready, pretty boy?”

“Are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, the rules were you come when I tell you too.”

“Then make me”

Sam took the challenge, leaning over to kiss him, licking her dried wetness off his face. When she sat back, she reached around to touch his balls, making him suck in his breath, trying not to be loud.

“Not yet, Marc, hold on…”

“I’m not gonna be able to hold on if you keep touching me like that.”

“Behave, Marc.”

“I’m trying.” He hissed.

Sam bent over him, curtaining Marc in her loose red curls. “You’ve been so good” She kissed him, sucking on his lower lip before biting it. “Come for me, Starlight.” Taking his mouth in hers, Sam continued sucking on his tongue and lips, swallowing the little whines that escaped him.

She rode him out, feeling his warmth spilling inside her, grateful for the UID in her arm, “That’s it honey, fill me up.” Sam kissed under his jaw where she knew he loved so much. She collapsed onto him, and Marc weakly buckled his hips as he came down from his high. Sam relaxed on his chest “Oh god, just like that, fuck your seed back into me, I belong to you baby.” She untied his hands from the belt.

“Can I touch you, pretty girl?” Marc asked.

“Yes, my love”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her in a hug. When he stopped fucking her, Sam stayed wrapped up in his arms, resting on his chest and himself still inside her. “I don’t ever want to leave, I never want to be without you.” She spoke in a hushed tone.

He held her tighter. “You never will, Brightside.”

*********************

Chapter 19 : Chapter 21

THANK YOOOUUU FOR READING!!!

Reblogs are the best way to spread my work, I always appreciate that!!

One of these days I'm gonna make an attempt to draw Sam. I can't draw but Ima try.

And I love the nice comments ya'll leave here, seriously like...if you like what I write please let me know bc each chapter gets less notes and it makes me sad.

@ahookedheroespureheart @kr-mlk @mt2sssss @cherryvalentine1

#sunshine starlight sweetheart brightside #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fluff #moon knight smut #marc spector smut #marc spector reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant is a whovian

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amtopmthoughts · 4 years

Text

BACKGROUND STORIES

Annie and Will met in Chicago in 2000? when Annie moved there from SAN FRANCISCO/

Names:

adults:

Elizabeth

Katherine

Claire

Oliver

Amelia

Naomi

Richard

James

Rose

Adrianna

Renn

Lilly

Kids:

Samantha sam

Sam

Dylan

William will

Benjamin Ben

Violet vi v

Natalie nat

Olivia liv

Isabella Bella

Skylar sky

Scarlett

Carson

Naomi

Blake

Nathan Nate

aiden

Alexander Alex

Alexandra Alex lexie

Alexis

Tod:

Haley

Casey

Lilly

Jake

Dylan

Benjamin Ben

Last names:

Ward

Avery

Williams

Roberts

Lewis

Carson

Carter

Clack

Wilder

Turner

Duncan

Wilson

Harper

Hansen

Tate

Stevens

VIOLET duncan

PARENTS

Amelia & MATTHEW Duncan

WILLIAM "WILL" Avery

PARENTS

ANNIE AND RICHARD Avery

FRIENDS

LEXIE STEVENS

LIAM HARPER

SAM TATE

BENJAMIN BEN JOHNSON?

she didn't seem to be from here, this town, this planet. she didn’t look or sound like she was from this time. I loved the way she could sometimes sound like she was ancient of how wise she was. mostly she didn’t even listen to music from this decade and not much from the decade before this one.

she always had a book in her hands, no matter what the genre. she read everything. she liked 80s music and 80s movies and 70s music and 70s movies. she loved musical theatre, surrealism and jazz and her dream was to have a guy throw her hundreds of parties every day in hopes of one day having her attend one and then one day be received by a room full of orchids, her favourite flowers. when she reads this, she’ll get mad at me for saying orchids are her favourite flowers, because “orchids are plants, not flowers”.

truthfully, she loves a lot of things. damn, i never even knew someone who knew so much about so many things. this world was too small for her. when i looked into her eyes I saw all the truths she held inside of her, how secure and sure she was about so many things. but inside, she was also very “doubtful”, like a troubled genius, with a troubled soul and a troubled mind, way ahead of her time. she had a lot of questions, about everything, questions nobody would ask. some because would never dare to do so, others because didn’t even imagine to ask such questions, let alone have them. she was the least ignorant, most aware person I had ever known. she seemed so polished yet so careless, unbothered, effortlessly beautiful. she was amazing. out of this world.

I remember so clearly the first time I ever saw her. I had just arrived in town. It was just like one of those “pictoresc” towns you only see in movies where there’s always “the new kid”, which in this case, was me, and you just know coming in your whole life’s about to change. I wasn’t really brought here against my will but I wasn’t that excited about the idea of moving here either. truth is I hadn’t been keen on felling much in a while. I had been feeling a little numb, to be honest with you. You know when you just feel like you’re getting by but not really living, you’re not able to feel excited about anything you do because you’re not actually doing anything you love. this may be too cliche to even say but she was the one who brought me back, to life.

It was the end of summer, the week before school started

we had just arrived along with the moving trucks’ guys and as soon as we parked the car our front neighbours were outside of what was to become our new home with a fresh baked pie to welcome us. like I said, just like in the movies.

september had just came, summer was coming to an end and school was about to start, which meant having to make new friends or committing to be an outsider but I wasn’t intending on making an effort to do neither of those things. I was going to go with the flow.

Hi! You must be the new neighbours. I’m “Claire” and this is my husband “Ethan”. We brought you pie!

my mom “estendeu” her hand to receive the pie and said - Yes, yes we are. I’m “Annie” and this is “Richard”, my husband, this is will, our son and this is our daughter Olivia.

Hi, Olivia. Will, you must be our son’s age, Benjamin. You know, there’s a diner near by, all the kids in town go there. You should go too. It’s the best place to meet/make people your age/friends.

Yeah, son, you should go. - my dad told me, patting (on) my shoulder. at the time I didnt ware he was “encouraging” me to go to the place where I’d meet you. I never thanked him, either.

But, don’t you need me to help you with the moving?

No, no, sweetie. Today we’re only doing the kitchen so we can cook dinner tonight. We’ll take care of the rest later, there’s no rush. Go.

Okay, then…

So I went. My dad helped my mom start to settle in and Olivia played in the backyard. I sat in the car and I took a deep breath before I started the car and then, I drove. It wasn’t hard finding the diner. It was a small town. It was a very cool place, aesthetically pleasing and all. It really looked like the ones from the 50s. I came in and sat at the balcony. Took a look around. The place was really filled with teenagers. Most of them weren’t even seated. They all clearly knew each other but there wasn’t a big enough booth for everyone so they would switch places and be in between tables and engaging in multiple conversations. They all looked so happy and comfortable. I guess what they say about small towns, about everyone knowing each other and everything, really is true.

It didn’t took long until one of the “diners workers” came to me. - You’re new here. Guess you’re the son of the new neighbours.

I smiled. I actually liked how kind of invasive people were here. I preferred to think they were actually interest in being involved in the lives of the people around them rather than think they (are) were just nosy. Either way, I didn’t feel bothered or uncomfortable. I felt good so far. - Yes. Yes I am. How did you know? Besides the fact that it is a small town, there are not many houses for sale here. Only from time to time. And it’s never for long.

I guess people really like living here, huh?

Well, why wouldn’t they? This is paradise, honey, you’ll see. You’ll meet the love of your life here.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, but who knows… - I smiled again.

How about just a chocolate milkshake, for now? They’re the house specialty/specialty of the house.

Sure. I’d love one, please.

Right away. I’m Rose by the way.

Lovely to meet you, Rose, I’m will. - she smiled at me and she turned. She wore a typical pink 50s diner costume as well as all the other workers.

She brought my milkshake and I took another look around. As soon as I looked at the door the most stunning girl I had ever seen walked in. She didn’t look at me even though I was staring at her. (Thank god.) She had long brown hair, the most dazzling eyes, also brown, and was wearing a long white flowy dress with flowers on it. Looking so unbothered, careless and confident. She went in the direction of the other kids tables and greeted everyone.

I turned around, figuring one of them would eventually find creepy that I was staring but then, she came to the balcony.

Hi Rosie, can I have the usual, please?

Hello, violet! Of course. I’ll bring it to the table in a second.

No need, I’ll eat here next to…

I felt like spitting my milkshake all over the place and say “WHAT? ME?” but I didn’t want her first impression of me to be that I was a complete dork so I said “Will”.

Hey, will. You’re the new kid, right?

Right.

So, what’s your story?

I don’t really have a story…

Everyone has a story - she almost ran my sentence over with hers

I’d risk saying only in towns like this interest things happen but guess mine is that I lived in “Chicago” and my mom and dad suddenly felt like moving here, so now the 4 of us all live here.

Yes, I have a younger sister.

I’m sure she’s adorable.

Sometimes.

And why where? I don’t even think “…” is on the map.

she made me chuckle - well, on their honeymoon they had a road trip and they made a wrong turn and ended up here and loved it so much they stayed here the rest of the honeymoon and they’ve been wanted to come back here since then but never did… life I guess… was always in the way

Until now…

Until now.

But wait, a road trip on a honeymoon? That’s the coolest thing.

I chuckled again. - Yes, I think so too.

By that time she had devoured all her food and somehow managed to look very cute while doing it and continuing to question me

they stayed at a inn by the lake.

the diamond lake inn.

I didn’t really remember the name even though my parents told me about it a million times.

It’s called diamond lake because when the sun reflects on the water, it shines, like diamonds.

this really is a storybook town, it even has 50s inspired diners and everything

In fact, this diner opened in the actual 50s. They were Rosie’s parents and then they died and she started running it. She always worked here helping her parents so she couldn’t sell it when they were gone, even though it hurt her very much. It reminds her (of them very much) very much of them.

I guess everyone really has a story.

Indeed. That’s what makes us interesting. The things that happen to us, they make us who we are.

You’re very wise.

So I’ve been told. - we were both silent for a second, I guess “digesting” the moment that had just happened. - Well, I have to go now, but you should come on saturday. We’re all going to the lake tomorrow, we’re having a bonfire at night. we’ll eat s’mores and it will be fun. you should come, that way you’ll meet everyone. I’ll introduce you.

Okay, sure, I’ll come.

Great. See you saturday. If not sooner. (she left money on the table), grabbed her purse, said goodbye to everyone and left the diner.

The sound of the bell on the top of the door that rang when she opened it as she left was stuck in my head and all I got caught up on that “If not sooner”, what did she mean by that?

There was no way of denying that there was something about that Violet girl. Something very interesting.

On my way home I was thinking about her and I realised she spent an hour asking me all these questions and yet I knew nothing about her. It’s not that I wasn’t interested in finding about her but she didn’t really gave me the chance, she would either in a very subtle way change subject and making that or other question about me or asking question after question. Still somehow the conversation “flew” in such a natural way

Dylan! We’re in the kitchen. - my mother yelled as soon as I opened the front door

I knew where the kitchen was because of course my mom made us all visit the house before we bought it and a couple times after that so we could all give opinions and decide which room would be what and where we’d put things and so on… My mom was very into home decor. Me on the other hand, not so much. My dad was into furniture “handcrafting”, actually, my dad was into everything handmade. My dad built furniture and made ceramic. My mom painted and managed an art gallery back in Chicago where we lived. Olivia, was into every (cartoon) disney cartoon movie ever.

My mom was sold (on the house) because of the location, first of all. My mom wanted to move there ever since her and my dad spent her honeymoon here, but they had to go back because she had still to finish college. She was only in her second year. She was an art major. In the forth and last year of her degree she got offered an internship at a local art gallery while she took her masters degree and got offered a job to work there when she got it. She loved it so much she ended up accepting it. But over the years they just realised they really wanted to live in a calmer, sunnier, warmer place and somehow their minds always went back to that place, that small town they spent their honeymoon in. So one day, they decided it was time, and we came. And here we are.

Second of all, the front porch, the picket fence, the foyer with the skylight and the kitchen nook.

The house had a big foyer with a “clarabóia” which my mom obviously loved. A big (open) kitchen and living room open space. The big kitchen with the island (countertops) were a must so we could have our famous weekly sunday brunches as well as a big couch which would later host our traditional family game nights. It’s not that we spent little time together as a family, we actually spent a lot of time together. My parents were always very present and they worked hard to be the “cool parents”.

She also painted for fun. We always encouraged her to try and sell her paintings but she always said the intention wasn’t to make money out of them, she said their only purpose was to be a way of her expressing/to express herself. Dad never went to college but was one of the most intelligent/smart people I know. He always had the best fatherly advice. He was funny and could “steal” a laugh from my mom even when she was her angriest self . She says that’s why they’re still married after 20 years (and together after 25). My mom is the single most calm, most peaceful person I know. Except when she gets really mad, it doesn’t happen that often, but when it does… man.

Liv was probably the one who was most excited about moving here. She said her colleagues from her school in Chicago weren’t nearly as smart as her. She says she wants to meet people who can match her level. She was only in second grade.

I got to the kitchen and my mom and dad were making dinner and Olivia was setting the table

So, honey, how was it? Did you make friends already?

I made… one friend… sort of…

Really, who?

A girl… her name is violet.

A girl… named violet… that sounds like trouble, kiddo.

Honey… - my mom said, touching my father’s shoulder

we sat down at the table - anyway, she invited me to go with her and her friends, which is basically every kid in town, to the lake on saturday, they’re having a bonfire and stuff.

Oh, baby, that’s so great! That lake is so beautiful. I’m so happy… You’re going to have so much fun. I feel like we’re going to be very happy here.

We better be, you never “shut” up about this town ever since we sat our buts down in the car when we left.

There was something about this place, don’t act like you didn’t felt it to.

Oh… I know… I had fun in that lake, too…

The next day I woke up to chocolate chip pancakes. Dad’s famous chocolate chip pancakes. Because my dad worked at home, he was the one that always cooked breakfast/he always cooked breakfast.

Special pancakes for a special day. First breakfast in/on our new home. - breakfasts were a big deal in the Avery household. My parents say it’s the most important meal of the day. We loved breakfast. We loved breakfast food. My mom always said breakfast was the most important meal of the day because it set the mood for the entire day, if you started the day eating good you’d have energy to carry you through your day. Also, she always said it was important to start the day with good, positive “vibes” and that’s what we’d get in our home. Rarely ever someone would wake up cranky. In fact, rarely ever someone would be cranky at all. I loved my family. I really did.

Sit down kids. - my mom said while she poured orange juice in our cups.

So, I invited the Johnson’s for dinner tonight. Claire, Ethan and their son, Benjamin. That way you can meet him too, Dylan.

Since you’ve only met that girl yet, that is - my dad intervened

Anyway - my mom resumed her speech - you do know what means, right? - we all looked at her - Come on, guys, you know what it means! The moving guys are coming again today to help us bring the rest of the heavy stuff and move around some of the stuff.

After breakfast we "arranged" the rest of the house and after that we cleaned it. By six, we were done and my mom started cooking. At seven, the Johnson's rang our doorbell. I answered the door.

we brought you another pie. You mother said you liked the one we brought you yesterday. - I actually really did like it.

Thank you. - I said while I grabbed the pie.

And this is Benjamin.

Hey... It's Ben.

Nice to meet you/hi, Ben. - I laughed and we shook hands. - come, my parents and my sister are in the kitchen.

My mom was still with her apron on and as she saw the johnson’s come in to the kitchen she "sacudiu" her hands on the (front part of the) apron and she greeted our guests. - hi! I'm sorry, I just finished cooking! .... and you must be Benjamin. - she said while she took her apron off

Hello, mrs. Avery

Dylan, sweetie, why won't you show Ben your room.

Sure.

We went to my room and although I didn't consider myself a shy person I was struggling to find how the hell would I start a conversation with Ben. Finally one of us broke the ice

We're having a sort of gathering on Saturday. We're going to the lake. You should come.

Yeah. I know.

Oh, my mom told you.

No. A girl-Violet- told me.

Violet?

Yes.

You've already met violet?

Yes.

(She's some girl...)

What do you mean?

It's like, everybody knows her, but nobody really knows her.

Kind of mysterious, huh?

I guess. Guys like it. But I've known her since we were like two so I could never look at her like that.

Do you or did you have a girlfriend back where you’re from?

I was seeing someone, but it wasn't serious. Nothing worth keeping long distance, for sure. You?

Nope. Never had one. Don't intend to. I just want to live my life, enjoy the best years of my life. Girls are trouble. I only intend on getting in trouble with them, not for them to actually give me trouble.

I guess he had a point... thing is I wanted to

“So what are your plans, now?”

“I’m going to keep doing what I have always done. Built furniture. And I’ve been pushing my wife to open her own art gallery for a long time. Now that we’re here it’s a great opportunity for her to do that”

“Yes! You should (definitely) do that. We don’t have any around here. It’d be a great addition (to the town).”

“See?” My dad said looking at my mom.

“Yes, Dylan already told me you spent your honey moon here by mistake and that’s why you ended up moving here but I’d really like to know the whole story, if you don’t mind telling it.”

“Of course we don’t, dear”, my mom said with a smile

I interrupted her. “Of course she doesn’t, she loves telling this story”

My mom gave me a side eye and continued. “So, anyway… We got married really young. Actually, shortly after we met. I had just moved to Chicago for college. I was studying, I believe it was the second night at my dorm and I broke my lamp so, and because I had little to no money, I went to a second hand/antique shop to look for the cheapest one I could find. Will was working there. I don’t really believe in love at first sight so I don’t say it was it but it was pretty close. He was shy but couldn’t stop smiling at me. When I got to my dorm I saw what I quickly figured it was his phone number and called him. We set up to meet the next friday and one month or so later we were moving together to a shoe box apartment. He proposed in december and we were married in may. Neither of us consider ourselves to be religious per say so we went to the city hall and had a small party in Will’s parent’s backyard. In/on my summer break, because we didn’t have any money, didn’t have much time either and thought ourselves to be very adventurous, decided to go on a road trip. Our initial idea was to stop by a bunch of different places, staying at cosy inns, stop by beaches and have lunch and dinner in cute places but on the first day our broke down on the way to our first stop so we had to take it to a car shop to have it fixed. The town ended up being this beautiful place and we ended up loving it and staying until the rest of our honey moon. We stayed at the DIAMOND LAKE INN. Had long swims in the lake, jumped tirelessly from the tyre swig hanged in that big tree and watched every sunset in our bathing suits. It was magical, we wanted to stay forever, but I had to go back for college, obviously. We still back for a couple summers after that but then I was offered a job at the place I was doing this/an internship and I loved what I was doing so I stayed and become harder and harder to come back and when Will was born it got even harder and when we had Olivia it just became impossible so we never came back. Life just got in the way I guess… But then we just decided we didn’t want to push it anymore and just decided to come. We sold the house, (got a good price on it) bought one here and we just came. I wasn’t worried about Olivia, I was actually more afraid because of Will but I think he’ll do/he’s going to be just fine.”

“I told you she loved telling the story… It’s a big story…”

“It’s a beautiful story.”

“Thank you, honey, I think it is, too.” My mom smiled so big. I could tell she was so happy.

(...)

A violet in a field of flowers. (I don't know if that's redundant or just cliche

Maybe Both. - we smiled. - my parents say they named me violet because they fell in love here and violet was the flower my dad picked? and gave my mother when he asked her to marry him. I just think that's a better way of saying I was conceived here

Maybe both. - we smiled again

(...)

Rosie - I told you you'd find love here. - we both smiled

(...)

0 notes

stuprosu · 4 years

Text

march 17th, 2020 1:50 AM

yeah

listen

it’s pretty well established that i am absolutely atrocious at keeping this updated. and i always say that i am going to keep it updated. but i never fucking do, do i? so i’ll say it again. and maybe i’ll mean it it this time. but i really do want to keep this up. there’s so much that i am forgetting lately. things i shouldn’t be forgetting. things i want to remember. this is another situation where i am going to have to outline each thing by each month. hold on to your butts.

[october 2018] see i don’t remember even what’s going on. this is almost two years ago. i saw the national this month. i also went on a date with sam. it went fine but i just wanted to be friends... so he ghosted me. yahoo. it’s coming back to me now. i go to worlds of fun with kady, marissa, ashleigh, amanda, and conner... love these goons so much.

[november 2018] my other friend - an online friend, one that lived close. we talked all the time and we played a lot of overwatch and shit together. and i’m intelligent. i’m smart. i know when i’m being taken advantage, or know when people try to do this. he asks me out on a date. we meet up in leavenworth. we spend the whole day together and we drink alcohol. i found out later i have a pretty severe alcohol intolerance. i don’t remember much of that night. maybe everything that falls down eventually rises. that whole experience was that stupid fucking bright eyes song. i can’t remember much - that pretty much makes it nonconsensual, right? i have no memory. but it’s been too long. the next day he texts me and tells me he only wants to be friends. i only remember him kissing me and his house and brooklyn 99. my aunt said i was pretty incoherent when he dropped me back off there at 2am.

i don’t really know what to make of that whole situation. best to not think about it. we have a friendsgiving. but we don’t relaspe. i actually took up smoking, lmao. i cut him completely out of my life. i am talking to people again. i start dating a boy named drew. we were both pretty lonely people.

[december 2018] yooo drew gets in a fucking wreck after leaving my house at 2am lmao i forgot about that. he was trying to avoid a snowstorm and like broke his femur in half. he was hospitalized for 2 weeks. i visited him. he couldn’t walk for about two months. i felt really bad but i didn’t really want to keep dating him. the whole thing was my fault and i don’t know how to feel about it even now. nothing else much happened during this month. someone wrecked into my parked car. i got zaba this month, my ball python.

[january 2019] kady asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. i break up with drew. it’s cold as fuck. i am sure there are other details. oh, ashleigh tells kady and i she will not be renewing the lease as she is going to move in with her boyfriend. ashleigh, in the past, like august 2018? was dating this homophobe so i didn’t talk to her. when he dumped her (after taking the old v card, which she told me about, which i responded to with indifference, which upset her) i was there to pick up the pieces but i told her she made a really dumb decision and i don’t know what else she expected and that it hurt that she knew my feelings about something and still dating someone so gross. ANYWAYS. new boyfriend. ashleigh wants to move in with the new boyfriend even though they havent even been dating a month... okay. we tell her not to. she doesn’t listen. ashleigh just starts being shady as fuck. jake , her bf, dumps after 2 weeks after she decides to not renew the lease. dumbass.

ashleigh is still set to move out in may, when the lease is up. so, that’s not my problem.

[february 2019] i really love my classes. i took ornithology that semester and i really loved it. i also cut my hair then and i came out publicly as bisexaul cause i realized how problematic being pansexual is. i also think i came out publicly as a nonbinary person, too. for so long i had issues with my gender, but i always pushed it aside and literally told myself don’t think about it, don’t worry about it, just stop. cringily, steven universe helped me figure out a label for what i was experiencing through rebecca sugar. pretty awesome stuff.

[march 2019] a lot of shit went down this month. ashleigh started dating a guy named zane, who she first originally described to me as a creepy guy in her history class. they went on one date and fucked in her CAR in a museum PARKING LOT. lmao and then proceeds to never sleep with him at our apartment, but will book hotels and shit. like how self conscious can you be?? anyways. i am fed up with it and i vent to some discord server and forgot ashleigh was in it. i delete it just in case but turns out she got screenshots and never told me. ash wanted to come to nakakon the weekend of march 16. march 15, ashleigh brings over zayn and theyre in her room. kady and conner are watching the office and marissa is there too.

i come home at like 1am and they tell me ZAYN is there and has a fucking GUN on his hip and i’m?? what the fuck. so we start playing that episode of the office with gun safety dwight really really loudly. and then marissa messages ash and asks zayn to put the gun in his car. the gun is a REVOLVER and doesn’t have a fucking safety. she also doesnt have a gun safe? everyone is just super uncomfortable. zayn comes out and makes a huge deal. he tells us we’re being immature and that it isn’t a big deal. i said something along the lines that we live here, he didn’t ask, we’re uncomfortable, respect it or perish, smth like that. he leaves to go put it in his car. comes back in and starts it back up. says that “the big scary gun is put away” shut up cuck.

anyways we get into and conner steps in because zayn is yelling at me and i am ready to brawl. zayn mentions something abuot how i treat ash like shit. i can only assume she showed him the screenshots of my discord message lmaoooo . anyways the day after that incident ! i cannot resolve it because ash is coming with me and staying at my dad’s apartment with marissa and i for nakakon. ashleigh is really obnoxious some of the time but mostly quiet. but since we were in such close quarters, i couldn’t bring up the whole shit with zayn. so.

i am fed up and amanda, kady, marissa, ash, and i go to ihop to try and hash this out. we have a talking straw. we talk about alllll of our issues. i thought it went good. i was not aware that ash was aware of the screenshots. we told ash we were uncomfortable with zayn and would appreciate if he would apologize for disrespecting kady and i in our home and how he talked to me especially. this wasn’t unreasonable, considering three other people were witness to how zayn was talking to me.

zayn said to ashleigh he wouldn;t apologize because he’d done nothing wrong. i told ashleigh i didn’t want him in the apartment. she moved out at this point and we got into it pretty heavily over messenger. ashleigh blocked all of us on facebook. i miss her but she’s a really toxic person who is in a relationship with a really toxic trump supporter who hates antifa and is really cringe.

[april 2019] nothing much happened. college is good. i still have a massive crush on carter. marissa moved in. she has found out i am a giant recluse by nature and i think that has had an impact on our relationship even today. my past journal articles have illustrated i can only take people in doses, but we’ve found how to get along.

[may - july 2019] nothing too crazy happened here either. it was an incredible summer, though. i worked, but i went to the lake so much and got close to toby! i hung out with marissa and kady so much and i really love those two girls. dad and amy are together all the time but they’re not “dating”. i know they are, just amy’s kids are young and wouldn’t understand. i know they’ll tell me when they’re ready. i also watched all of hunter x hunter and loved it. rewatched neon genesis evangelion, too, and loved it. i can’t remember when, but danielle handed marissa a letter for me to read. it was really intense and kind of perception-shattering. i texted her and we agreed to become at least non-hostile and chill with each other. i have really been meaning to see danielle irl and talk to her... but i keep forgetting and don’t have much time during the semester. i feel bad but... i don’t know what else to say. i reached out to her in december but was left on read. that was my fault, as i hadn’t responded to her in months. it’s better than what it was, to say the least.

[august 2019] golden year baby ! just kidding my golden year was whenever i turned nineteen. anyways august is pretty chill. i started my senior year and took entomology. i loved that class so much and had it with carter. i really love the people in my field and i am going to miss them so much. love the biology goons. i also found out from my doctor i am allergic to most alcohols after i had an allergic reaction on my 21st and went to the doctors. i have a pretty severe intolerance. also started playing dragon age again. i don’t really talk to mom at all. my maternal grandfather, cliff, who i have never met/spoken to, has a relationship with my sister ashlee and was at my nephew’s first birthday party. cliff met my brothers and i and was very kind to us. however, i love my aunt shanna with my whole heart and she doesn’t like him at all. there was a very clear and obvious divide of my mom’s sisters and family, like jordan, kenadee, brettney, nana, and my grandfather’s family, like his other children and their spouses. it was all very difficult. i know my grandfather doesn’t have much time left in this world, but he still was rude and treated the family who HAS been there like shit. i know my mom cut my grandfather out, but i am inclined to side with my aunt because she knows best. however, she didn’t pull me aside at the birthday party and tell me not to believe a thing cliff says. cliff, however, did that. told me to believe what nana says and that it was all in the past. that rubbed me the wrong way. i still don’t know what to think about that situation.

[september 2019] just school and work still, nothing crazy. mammalogy trips, entomology trips, school is really really fun and a lot of work but i love it so much! oh, and carter got me a bernie2020 magnet for my birthday.

[october 2019] i saw the band cigarettes after sex. they were really awesome. i broke my glasses. i went to ren fest. nathan was creepy. i saw my mom and my aunt brenna at toby’s marching band game. dad, ash, and bentley were there. it was awkward and i didn’t try talking to my mom. a few months prior i kind of ripped into her on messenger and tried to tell her that i wanted a relationship but she had to acknowledge that what she did in the past was wrong (and i told her exactly what she did wrong, and i had talked about this with my siblings and dad, who agreed) and how she could fix it and how i still wanted her in my life. and she refused to acknowledge this. i kind of broke down over it because i realized my mom was never ever ever going to change and it broke me. anyways, i saw her at the game and i didn’t talk to her and answered her questions with as much grace as i could manage. that’s all. she lives in olathe now. that guy and her broke up. toby lives with dad full time now. dad has a good job and bartends part time at top golf.

[november 2019] there was a praying mantis on my aloe plant! she laid an ootheca. it should hatch any day now :)i went to a deer aging check station. i slept in a bath tub. had some good conservations with my sister. we also had kady’s bridal shower. kaycee’s house is amazing and so is kaycee! i wish she lived closer.

[december 2019] kady got married! it was a really beautiful reception. i finished my semester with all As and Bs! entomology was really hard, but i got a B in there! most people in ento got Cs or Ds so i did really well :) we started playing left for dead again

[january 2020] kady is on her honeymoon. marissa and i watched midsommar on new years eve. i started my new classes. i am taking herpetology and paleontology and local flora. i also TA for plant phys and am doing research with dr. barta! life was pretty good. oh, i tried getting glass animals tickets, but they sold out, so i was really bummed :///

[february 2020] chiefs won the superbowl, played dragon age, went to class. i spend a lot of time with amanda and love her so much. i also got my resume together! waiting to hear back so i can start applying for jobs.

[march 2020] it’s the current month. it’s been a wild month because of the virus. i was supposed to find a place to live by may and a job this month but the virus has made that pretty much impossible. my dad has been reassuring but also not at the same time. it will all work out. i voted for bernie in the primaries. i have become extremely socialist in my views. right now, i am really into NGE and jojo’s bizarre adventure and i am listening to a lot of the kinks. jyro turned 11 this month. 11! he’s getting so old. i hope i can find a place to live but i need to find a job first. it’s a stressful time. hopefully i won’t get the virus but... we will see. also, i’ll try to keep this updated. maybe monthly!

see ya xox

lex

#journal #eleventh post #march #march 17 #2020

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spryfilm · 6 years

Text

“Pacfic Rim: Uprising” (2018)

Action/Science Fiction

Running Time: 111 minutes

Written by: Emily Carmichael, Kira Snyder, Steven S. DeKnight & T.S. Nowlin

Directed by: Steven S. DeKnight

Featuring: John Boyega, Scott Eastwood, Cailee Spaeny, Jing Tian, Adria Arjona, Zhang Jin, Rinko Kikuchi, Charlie Day, Burn Gorman

Voice: “What is a Jaeger? A Jaeger is the pinnacle of human invention. When the monsters came we did now wait for heroes to fall from the sky and save us, we saved ourselves. Innovation is our superpower. What is a Jaeger? It’s you times a thousand. Tall as a mountain with a beating heart that burns as bright as the sun, enabling us all to become the most heroic versions of ourselves.”

Critical Commentary:

How times change, after the release of “Pacific Rim” (2013) a Guillermo del Toro directed piece of science fiction that wanted to straddle the worlds of Wells and Lovecraft, that featured some of the hottest up and coming stars of that year in Charlie Hunnam, Idris Elba as well as some fine characters actors in Ron Pearlman, Max Martini, Clifton Collins Jr., Burn Gorman and Charlie Day, it seemed the stories of Kaiju’s and Jaeger would never have another outing. With an outsized budget of US$200 million dollars and a really rather middling box office of US$411 million (most coming from International markets) there was little appetite for a sequel. Come 2018 with the more expensive actors as well as production people replaced by what really are B and C actors we now have a sequel in “Pacific Rim: Uprising” (2018), with a budget far less at US$150 million (even less when factoring in inflation) this has not been the hit that the studio (Legendary /Universal) or the producers had hoped for. With all the best intentions in the world, no matter how much story or plot that is attempted this potential franchise is still built around monsters fighting giant machines, which is of course its greatest strength, but also remains its greatest weakness, as does the unbelievable amount of collateral damage that is caused in every single action set piece of which there are more than a few, maybe too many as it transpires.

This sequel co-written and directed by Steven S. DeKnight who is possibly best known as a genre television writer has never been at the helm of a movie either as writer or director – for most of “Pacific Rim: Uprising” he makes a decent enough fist of it, although I do question handing the reigns of such a large budget to someone with very little actual experience. Where the lack of ideas as well as originality does show is in the general story and action that appears onscreen as well as the plot reasons as to why there is even a need for this sequel, when the original itself was not only uninspiring but very middle of the road with no real genre flourishes or originality beyond the fact that there were giant machines fighting giant monsters. I have pointed out continuously that just because there is a great idea for a movie, and don’t get me wrong the general conceit behind both ‘Pacific Rim’ movies is very good, it is the small details that make that good idea into a great film. Unfortunately, there is just too much of a plot to fit comfortably into the modest running time and budget. What is amusing is that it is the exact opposite problem that the first movie had, not enough plot, too much confusing fighting and issues with the world building as well as clearly defining not only the antagonists but too little seen of them and their location.

“Pacific Rim: Uprising” is set ten years after the Battle of the Breach, former Jaeger pilot Jake Pentecost – son of deceased Kaiju War hero Stacker Pentecost – makes a living by stealing and selling Jaeger parts on the black market. After he tracks part of a disabled Jaeger’s power core to the secret workshop of fifteen year old Jaeger enthusiast Amara Namani, both are arrested and are given a choice between the prison or return to PPDC as an instructor with Amara as his recruit.

Upon arriving at a Shatterdome in China, Jake starts training Jaeger program cadets with his estranged former co-pilot Nate Lambert. Nate and Mako reveal to him that the Jaeger program is threatened by Shao Corporation’s drone program. Mako is due to deliver a final assessment to determine the authorization of the drones at a PPDC council meeting in Sydney, but is killed by rogue Jaeger Obsidian Fury before she can report. Her death prompts the PPDC council to authorize the drone program and order their immediate deployment. Upon destroying its reactor, they find that Obsidian Fury was controlled by a Kaiju’s secondary brain, which testing shows was grown on Earth.

What is the stand out element for me, in fact for pretty much the entire movie is the casting (as well as co-producer) of John Boyega who proves he is going to be a big star of the future outside his ‘Star Wars’ appearances, which is no mean feat, as type casting is not just a thing of the past. Here Boyega has to live up to the memory of not only his characters father but the fact that his father was portrayed by the fantastic Idris Elba who maintains a presence in all the movies he has appeared in. Boyega in this movie is equally charming as well as being caddish, a boy growing into a man, even while he is teaching others far younger than himself. Therein lies one of the problems with the movie, which is the fact that this movie relies far too much on younger actors as well as the miscast Scott Eastwood who while he has pedigree (his father is Clint Eastwood) is not a great actor at all – the only saving grace is that his father matured with age as an actor so there is hope for him yet. The two actors that seem to know what movie they are in as well as stealing the show are the holdouts from the previous instalment in Charlie Day and Burn Gorman who are at opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of performance but complement each other exceptionally well. As for the rest of the cast they are mostly unknowns who serve a purpose but are really just filling to the massive CGI fights that take place for a majority of the running time.

Of course the real stars of this movie are the Jaeger’s and to a lesser extent the rival Kaiju’s who are all CGI creations. Carrying on from the previous movie the world has already been built and it is obvious to see that the bulk of the budget has gone on rendering these giants of destruction. My only real criticism is that the actual world that these giants operate in is pretty drab, faceless and lifeless. It seems like the flaws of movies like “Man of Steel” (2013) and “Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice” (2016) have been ignored here, as we are witness to hundreds of buildings in multiple cities being destroyed with little time being spent on the human cost or even the social cost which is a major mistake on the filmmakers part – surely audiences are beyond this, perhaps this is a reason why the movie is bland as well as fairly unsuccessful at the box office.

One of the aspects of the movie that is unforgiveable, something Marvel movies learnt after “Iron Man 2” (2010) is the setting up of sequels before the first or second movies are good enough or successful enough to earn these on their own. So we see in the closing moments of the movie a blatant attempt to set up another ‘Pacific Rim’ instalment which is ludicrous as this one was never going to be able to spawn one with these filmmakers attached. This, coupled with a rather too expansive plot means that this movie at times is a hard watch as it really does bite off more than it can chew in terms of establishing brand new characters as well as new versions of antagonists from the previous movie, again while dangling even more story for a sequel.

The question in my mind is simply should this be viewed in cinemas and I would say that “Pacific Rim: Uprising” is worth a watch but maybe at home on Blu-ray or a streaming service. This is a movie that in the ‘old days’ would have been a direct to video release at best, which would have been a nice surprise especially with the edition of John Boyega. So wait and watch at home, you will enjoy much more.

Technical Commentary:

Vital Disc Stats:

Universal brings “Pacific Rim: Uprising” to 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray as a two-disc combo pack with a flyer code for a Digital Copy. The triple-layered UHD100 disc sits comfortably opposite a Region Free, BD50 disc inside a black, eco-vortex case with a glossy slipcover. At startup, the disc goes straight to a menu screen with an image of the cover art and music playing in the background.

The Video:

There is no doubt that the picture is alive with the range of colors available when viewing this 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray, it has a with a lavish HEVC H.265 encode that never seems to shortchange the movie.

As soon as the movie begins it is easy to identify within the picture the rich greens, electrifying blues, and splendid full-bodied reds, which complement the over the top visuals, giving it just the right feel for the story it is telling. The Jaegers all look amazing on a large screen TV, they shine and shimmer never losing their majestic awe that should be standard when watching Sci-Fi life this. What I love to witness though are the backgrounds that shine as clear as anything else, the skyscrapers, water, signs and of course the Kaiju themselves. Most impressive has to be the actual breach where viewers can be bewitched by the ecstatic mix of blistering yellow, fiery orange, vibrant crimson and flaming magenta.

The 4K presentation also comes with perfect contrast that’s consistent and well-balanced while also delivering intensely hot, radiant whites, from the super-hygienically clean suits of Liwen Shao and the bright sterile labs to the luminously brilliant glow of various light sources and the soft, fluffy clouds.

Brightness levels are rich and luxurious with blacks that reveal superb gradational variances between the numerous shades, nicely separating the gear and straps from the rest of the uniforms. Silky, midnight shadows penetrate deep into the screen without hampering the finer aspects of the background, providing the 2.39:1 image with a stunning, cinematic appeal and three-dimensional quality. Shot exclusively on the Arri Alexa camera system with a max 3.4K resolution, the freshly-minted transfer, upscaled from a 2K digital intermediate, arrives in the nick of time with razor-sharp definition in every scene.

The Supplements:

Audio Commentary: Director Steven S. DeKnight rides solo for this fairly informative commentary on various aspects of the production, the performances, visual effects and overall story.

Becoming Cadets (4K, 6 min): A few minutes on Amara’s fellow recruits.

Unexpected Villain (4K, 6 min): Interviews on one character’s surprise twist.

Bridge to Uprising (4K, 5 min): Cast & crew interviews on connecting the sequel to the first.

Next Level Jaegers (4K, 5 min): Closer look and technical discussion on the new mecha characters.

The Underworld of Uprising (4K, 4 min): Discussion on the first act & surviving in the aftermath.

Hall of Heroes (4K, 3 min): John Boyega comments on specific details of each Jaeger.

I Am Scrapper (4K, 3 min): Brief look on the small Jaeger and its role in the movie.

Going Mega (4K, 3 min): Some time on the mother of all Kaijus.

Secrets of Shao (4K, 3 min): Focused on the ruthless businesswoman.

Mako Returns (4K, 2 min): Pretty much exactly as the title implies.

“Pacific Rim: Uprising” is out now on 4K Blu-ray, Blu-ray & DVD.

4K Blu-ray review: “Pacfic Rim: Uprising” (2018) “Pacfic Rim: Uprising” (2018) Action/Science Fiction Running Time: 111 minutes Written by: Emily Carmichael, Kira Snyder, Steven S.

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

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