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#range sport rent
nckluxuryrentacar · 2 years
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fazalkhan2914 · 6 months
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Range Rover SVR rent in Dubai - Exoticrentacardxb If you are looking for Exotic car rental services that can provide a well-managed car then it's time to reach out to us. We offer cars that are not older than 3 years, we check everything and hand out to you only our best-performing and luxurious cars at very affordable prices. It's time to choose us. https://exoticrentacardxb.com/range-rover-svr-white-2020/
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wheelsonrentuae · 7 months
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dualuxuryrentacar · 8 months
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Luxury Car Rental in Dubai | Dua Luxury Renta Car
Experience luxury on wheels with Dua Luxury Rent-a-Car in Dubai. Explore our premium fleet of sedans, sports cars, and SUVs for a memorable driving experience in the heart of the city. Contact us today to book your dream ride!
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s-awturn · 29 days
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Day Off || F1 Grid
cw: nothing but superficiality, cuteness, intimate but not obscene moments, sharing moments, mention of gossip. Just pilots resting
starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1
a/n: I had this written a couple of days ago, but Tumblr just "ate" the only file I had and I lost everything. I was so mad I didn't even want to write anymore, but damn, This is too good a HC to waste, so okay, let's try again (remembering to save periodically this time 🫡
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LEWIS HAMILTON:
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You and Lewis had created a reading list to complete throughout the year, you bet there were about a hundred books on the list, titles ranging from classic literature, biographies, poems, and contemporary literature. Books that you and Lewis wanted to read together or the books you thought the other should read.
So it was common for the two of you to spend the pilot's day off reading in bed while listening to blues or jazz on the speakers. You read together, wrote reviews of the books you read and discussed them.
He was reading Percy Jackson and the Mark of Athena and you were reading Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.
"So? What did you think?" He asked, marking the page he was on, Lewis had just started the last chapter and you had already finished reading.
"He does go through a metamorphosis and it's extremely unpleasant to imagine, but I've read more unpleasant books," you confessed, putting the book on the bedside table. "Four stars, and you?"
He snorted "Piper is so boring, damn she only knows how to think about Jason and how she doesn't like being the daughter of Aphrodite, so boring"
"God, yes! I don't like her either... Anyway, I'll wait for you to finish, and then we can choose the next one."
"Sure, honey," he kissed her temple and returned to reading just as Etta James began to sing "At Last." You settled into it, petting Roscoe as he lay beside you. This is the best way to enjoy your day off.
CARLOS SAINZ:
Carlos was at a stage where he wanted you to learn golf to play with him, after all the sport was a tradition for him and the Spaniard wanted you to be part of it, but you were terrible. You were really bad at golf, but that didn't make he want to teach you any less.
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And well, you didn't like golf either, you didn't understand the sport, the scoring was weird, there were at least half a dozen different clubs and you couldn't even cheer.
But at least the clothes were cute and the cars were cool.
"Let's go, amor, I'll teach you," he said, going to pick you up in the golf cart. Lando, who was accompanying them this time, leaned his body on the golf club, waiting.
"Carlos, I'm terrible at this, you know," you grumbled, taking the bat he offered you. Carlos was a persevering man, you had to admit. He stood behind you, teaching you again how to perform the shot, instructing you to separate your legs and take a deep breath.
"I bet you five bucks she'll throw the ball in the lake"
"Shut up, Lando," you both said.
You followed his instructions and hit the ball...
...that fell into the lake.
"I knew"
"Shut up, Lando"
CHARLES LECLERC:
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A day off for Charles meant you would get to visit his favorite spots, from a famous restaurant to a little coffee shop tucked away in a city alley. Sometimes he would take you to the south of France to see some chateau, other times he would just rent a chalet for you to be together in privacy, and you had lost count of how many times they had gone to Italy to see the vineyards and villas on the border with Monaco.
This time, you were preparing for a slightly longer itinerary, you had suggested visiting the Grace Kelly exhibit before heading to the cottage he had rented for the weekend.
"Got everything you need, mon cher?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist in a sweet hug.
"It depends, I know we're going to see the Grace Kelly exhibit, but I have no idea where we're going after, you say a cottage and I don't know whether to bring a bikini or coats" you mumbled, looking at her handbag.
"Take both just in case, you know spring can have unpredictable weather"
"Are you saying that so you don't give me a hint about where we're going?" You turned in his arms, facing the pilot. "That's not fair."
"You'll like it, mon ange, I promise"
"At least tell me if it's still in Monaco..." You tried to persuade him, sliding your nails lovingly along his chin, making the Monegasque shiver and let out a heavy breath.
"You're not taking me to the siren song, pretty girl." He gave you a quick kiss and a light slap on your ass before leaving. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes."
LANDO NORRIS:
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Lando's downtime with you was spent playing games, you thought it was counterproductive to fuel his competitiveness when he should have been resting, but this routine of games with you made him much calmer and more relaxed when he returned to work. Ironic? Yes, but it worked.
You two played anything, Monopoly, Naval Battle, Game of Life, Detective, W.A.R, Uno, even checkers or cards. Any game was fair game.
The problem is that you got really competitive, your friends even gave up trying to play with you because the game turned into a battlefield.
"You lowlife cheater, did you really throw a +4 at your fiancée?!" You yelled at him, Lando laughed and blew you a kiss before dodging the pillow you threw at him.
"You know how things work, honey. Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm going to let you beat me."
"This will come back!" You bought the four cards he forced you to. "I really hate you."
"And you are the love of my life"
"Die, you jerk," you snapped and he laughed.
Lando could feel all the tension leaving his shoulders, playing with you always made him relax, no matter how aggressive and passionate you became in the game.
OSCAR PIASTRI:
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Considering that Oscar was always traveling and there were few really usable pages in his schedule, any time the two of you could have together should be taken full advantage of, and For both of them, there's nothing better than an afternoon of movies.
You two had created a list of movies on Letterboxd and the chosen one of the day would be Interstellar.
Oscar was making popcorn while you were arranging the blankets and pillows on the couch, so what if it was the height of summer in Australia? There in the apartment, the air conditioning was hovering below fifteen degrees, keeping the room at a favorable climate for you and your boyfriend to cuddle while watching astronauts lost in space.
"I thought you were going to choose Anatomy of a Fall," he muttered, placing the food on the coffee table, popcorn with cheese, assorted snacks, chocolates and ice cream and of course, lemon soda.
"I was dubious, but you know I love any movie that has Matthew McConaughey in it," you said, getting under the covers, accompanied by Oscar, "and of course, The movie's soundtrack is perfect, I use it to study..."
"Have you watched it?"
"No, I was waiting for you, but I discovered the playlist... I'll send you the link, you'll love it"
He hummed in agreement and you pressed play on the movie, Many times you paused the film to comment on something or express your theories. It made the movie session better, Oscar didn't mind listening to you talk about it and you loved his theories.
It was, without a doubt, the best way to enjoy the break.
MAX VERSTAPPEN:
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He would rather be playing, sleeping or, I don't know, watering the plants, but you always dragged him to a skin care session. You spread different creams on his face, plucked some extra hairs from his eyebrows, trimmed his beard.
As much as he denied it, Max learned to enjoy it, being taken care of by you was one of his guilty pleasures. And it all got better when you started gossiping without any trace of shame. He talked about what went on behind the scenes in F1 and you shared news about work and your condominium.
"I'm still sad that Logan was let go, he had a lot of future," you said, sliding the massage stone across his face, spreading the serum into his skin.
"He's a good kid, unfortunately he wasn't ready for Formula One yet, he came in too early and couldn't adapt well... I hope he can find his place" he grumbled, sighing at the gentle massage on his cheekbones.
"Yes... Williams was very ungrateful to him and I won't elaborate on that" you said a little bitterly and Max laughed, you always positioned yourself as a defender of the poor and oppressed.
"Yes... I won't elaborate on that either... It's better"
You both were silent until you clicked your tongue.
"Uh, I almost forgot to tell you, last week there was a horrible fight at the condominium meeting.
He opened his curious eyes "You can tell me everything, dear"
"The neighbor at 1165 caught her husband with the building manager and the building manager's husband in her bed"
"What the fuck?! Are you kidding?!"
You laughed, putting away the massage stone and sliding your fingers firmly over Max's face "you had to see it, she put together a PowerPoint with photos and screenshots of the conversations"
Max laughed out loud "damn, I wish I had seen..."
"It was a real fight, they argued and everything, it was really fun to watch"
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"I will definitely go to the next condo meeting"
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.
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occamstfs · 5 months
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No Need to Apply
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Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam
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Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.
It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.
Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.
Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.
In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 
He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 
Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”
Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”
It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.
He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 
Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: ���To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.
Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 
He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 
He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 
Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.
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The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 
His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 
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He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.
He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.
He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.
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Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 
Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.
Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?
He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 
Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.
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If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!
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tpwk-formula1 · 5 days
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Hi, could I get a gluten free crust with red sauce. For toppings I’d like tomatoes, basil, broccoli, pineapple and mozzarella. For drinks I’d like some lemonade (reader receiving), sun tea and coke. And a dessert please. With Lando
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" pineapple "Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" mozzarella "All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” lemonade body worship sun tea sir kink coke spanking served by Lando Norris
Lando x rival reader
TW rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, spanking
WC 1400+
Y/N POV
"Lando, go back to the McLaren garage," I tell him softly while walking through the Ferrari garage trying to get to my driver's room but quickly being stopped due to the boy in papaya currently hot on my heels.
"Just let me explain myself," Lando basically shouts while still following me by the time I reach the door.
I just grab his arm and drag him into my room quickly not wanting anyone's eyes to be on us.
"Lando there's nothing to explain! We aren't together I do not give a fuck if you're seeing another girl. I just would have liked to know before getting a message to leave you alone," I tell him softly while starting to pack up my room getting ready to go back to my hotel after a long qualifying day.
"But I'm not with her! I spent one night during summer break with her," Lando defends making me shrug my shoulders and finish packing up.
"It's not my business what you do Lando. I truly don't give a fuck," I tell him softly before heading to the door and exiting my driver's room knowing Lando would follow and truthfully would probably just come back with me from the paddock and stay in my hotel.
"Are you coming or not?" I ask when I stand at the door waiting for Lando to exit. He just shrugged his should and followed me out and into the parking lot where I quickly found the Range Rover I had rented for the weekend not really caring to have some crazy sports car.
Lando quickly climbed into the drivers seat making me roll my eyes before getting into the passengers seat and allowing for Lando to drive us to the hotel.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lando questions into the silent car making me scoff at the attitude.
"I don't see how any of this is my fault, you're the one who started seeing another girl and deciced to not tell me until I'm getting bombarded by her and all her friends in my DMs," I reply back which had Lando gripping my thigh with his big hand harder.
"I told you, it was one fucking date. I didn't know I had to inform you of my every move. You're the one who has made it so clear that we are nothing more than some rivals on track who fuck in their off time," Lando says clearly getting more frustrated the more he talked. He lands a soft slap on my thigh making me whimper slightly.
When we finally got back to the hotel nothing had been resolved between us, leaving me to lead Lando into my hotel room in awkward silence before he pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me where he pins my arms above my head and starts kissing around my neck.
"Lando, if you're seeing someone you need to stop," I gasp when I feel his teeth sink into my sweet spot he knows I loved so much.
"I'm only seeing you and how you take my cock so well," Lando mumbles against my neck before slowly sliding my shirt up and off my body and throwing it somewhere in the room.
"Lando, is this even a good idea anymore?" I question when he starts trailing kissing down my neck making me whimper when he starts biting at the part of my tits that are spilling over my bra.
"I don't know why one date I go on is making you question if this is a good idea. It was one fucking date. I'm not gonna stop fucking this pussy until the day I die," Lando roughly tells me before he unclips my bra and tosses it across the room to join my shirt.
Once my bare tits are exposed to Lando he starts kissing at them while telling me how pretty they are.
"No tits are better than these ones," Lando mumbles making me whimper slightly.
"I love that by the time I'm down with these tits you'll be soaked and ready for me to fuck your pretty pussy," Lando groans while pulling my legging downs leaving me in the black thong I had thrown on after FP.
"Lando I need you," I whimper out, but quickly scream when Lando lands a rough slap on my thigh.
"Try again," Lando says roughly making me try to grind my hips up into him.
"Please," I whimper.
This just had Lando flipping me over and starting to hand harsh slaps on my ass making me whimper.
"Lando, too hard," I whine again only making Lando spank me harder still not getting what he wanted.
"All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it,” Lando says clearly getting frustrated.
"Sir, please fuck me," I finally submit when I can no longer take his brutal attack on my ass.
This had Lando ripping my thong from my body leaving it to be a sad string of fabric before he roughly shoved them into my mouth and quickly takes off his clothes before he shoved his cock deep into my pussy making me whimper.
Lando gives me no time to adjust to his cock, but it didn't matter cause all I could feel was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through my body.
"Made just for me huh?" Lando questions when he realizes how well I was taking him now. When we had first started sleeping together he had to go slow because I could barely fit in and now I could take him with ease, even if I still could feel the stretch.
"More, sir" I gasp begging for more. Lando starts thrusting harder making me moan loudly not caring if anyone else in the hotel could hear us. Lando fucks me a few more seconds in doggy before repositions us so I could ride his cock a bit.
"Fuck," I whimper when I feel his cock pressing against my cervix before I start bouncing roughly on his cock making his cock continuously hit my cervix in quick succession.
"Look so pretty wrapped around my cock," Lando whimpers when he feels me speeding up my actions. While Lando had always been the dominant one but I have always loved it when I had him whimpering for me.
"You sound so pretty when you whimper for me," I say with a smirk across my face making Lando's eyes snap open at the praise and darken with lust before he flips us over and starts flowing into my pussy in missionary.
"Don't get fucking smart with me," Lando says while slapping down right on my clit making me whimper.
"Can I cum please," I gasp when Lando starts teasing my clit with his fingers?
"Go on, make yourself useful and cum for me," Lando groans making the band in my tummy finally snap making them start shaking all over Lando's cock while cumming harder than normal.
"Sir! Fuck!" I scream when he keeps fucking into me prolonging my orgasm when I feel him start painting my walls with his hit cum making me whimper when I can feel the tip of his cock nudging against my G-spot sending me into another smaller orgasm.
Lando helps ride my mini orgasm out before slowly slipping out watching some of his cum spills from my convulsing pussy.
"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Lando groans when he sees some of his cum starting to pool on the bedspread.
"Fuck," I gasp still trying to catch my breath when Lando lays next to me and pulls me into his chest where he starts rubbing my back softly.
"Will you please go on a date with me?" Lando asks making me laugh .ightly.
"If you win from pole position and lead after lap 1 I will go on a date with you," I reply softly making Lando groan.
"All the motivation I need," Lando replies back making me laugh softly before both of us fall asleep in each other's arms.
In the morning we showered together before heading to the paddock where Lando proceeded to get pole position and later Sunday he went on to lead the entire race and even beat Max by over 20 seconds. When we were standing on the podium together Lando whispered in my ear that we had a dinner planned for midnight.
I just laugh and shake my head before drowning the man in champagne. I guess he just needed a bit of motivation to finally break the curse.
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sare11aa11eras · 6 months
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I know I post intermittently abt the basketball AU of ASOIAF that lives in my head rent free but anyways the women’s college basketball season in the US just ended and I really do have some thoughts:
Sansa Stark 6’3” and kind of stacked she SHOULD be a post player but has never once driven to the basket in her LIFE. Somehow manages to make up for this in sheer volume of 3 pointers. Keeps getting compared to her mom who was the most terrifying power forward you ever saw in the Riverlands 20-something years ago despite the fact that there is almost nothing in common with their game styles.
Arya Stark, guard, has a really sweet mid-range game that everyone always forgets about but she’s got like 18 points in 28 min, makes about 5 steals a game. Unfortunately, gets in foul trouble. Keeps getting compared to Jon which drives her nuts.
Robb, went to the Westerosi National Basketball League at like 18, but before the championship game, the coach of an opposing team got a second coach to get players to deliberately injure him during a game. Somehow he got called for a technical foul on this. Ended his career in professional sports.
Dany, 5’6”, floor general and sharpshooter. Regularly beats defenders with more than half a foot on her to rebounds. Plays internationally full-time but her highlight reels still end up on Westerosi ESPN bc her family was at one point a dynasty in the basketball world. 90% of her instagram page is her with her three lizards.
Brienne is the Post Player’s Post Player— always boxes out, gets the rebound, blocks shots, drives etc, impeccable footwork. And then she also hits from distance and can guard. Cersei, the aging vet on the Lannisport Lions, wants her dead for once committing SEVEN blocks on her in a game when she was a rookie. Currently coached by Cat for the Riverlands Fighting Trout. There is a not insignificant fanbase of lesbians who want her to crush their heads with her thighs online but she is tragically into disgraced ex-Lions player Jaime Lannister who keeps bumming around the Riverlands for unclear reasons.
<insert that one post about Aeron Greyjoy as a basketball player here>
Jon Snow has been fouled out of games with technicals. He has never made a basket apart from a fast break layup or a free throw— except for like, two separate years??? where he got his team to the semifinals through a buzzer beater logo 3????? Somehow the undisputed defensive player of the year, the most universally loathed player in his conference, beloved by his own team, and a guy who once went viral for a video of him crying on his girlfriend after HER team lost while she just sort of patted his head.
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thewulf · 1 year
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Wild Child || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: The four times Jake catches you in precarious situation plus the one time you catch him in one.
A/N: A request from a friend.: I’m sooooo sorry if your name is Heidi (You’ll see why). Really unedited but I wanted to get you guys something out. Please enjoy!
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 6,200+
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The First Incident
A wild child is how your family always described you. You liked ‘free spirit’ better. Wild child made you sound unhinged. You didn’t like to consider yourself unhinged per say but you couldn’t stand to be tied down to anything. One minute you were a white-water rafting instructor at the Grand Canyon, the next you’re teaching people how to paraglide in the Alps. You craved adventure. Loved it more than anything in the world.
The thought of a corporate job holding you down made you gag, literally. You knew this lifestyle wasn’t maintainable per say but you just couldn’t seem to give a damn. You let the wind blow you to your next opportunity. That’s how you ended up in San Diego as a water sports instructor. You’d been working as a ski school coach in Colorado when you got word help was needed on the West Coast. You approached the guy who needed help and the rest was history. You were on a plane to San Diego the next day with a job running the little shack on the beach.
You loved it. It might’ve been your favorite job to date. You got to hang out in the sun all day and rent Jet Ski’s, paddle boards and kayak’s to people. Your favorite days were the ones you got to do jet ski tours on. You’d spend endless hours on the open ocean having the time of your life. Your least favorite days were the ones when you had to do maintenance on all the equipment. Usually, Doug or Jim your coworkers would take on changing the oil out on the jet ski’s but naturally they were both off when one needed to be done.
It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a less than ideal situation. You’d forgotten to put the oil cap back on before cranking the engine on. Well, the entire contents of oil you just dumped in the chamber was now all over your face and clothing, the engine spitting it back at you.
“Fuck!” You cried jumping back away from the machine. Ripping off the safety glasses you used your hands and clothing to try and get the oil off your face. Without much success you paused trying to assess the situation.
You realized you had two options. Jump in the freezing ass Ocean or run into Penny’s place. Deciding on the latter option you pulled your shirt off leaving you in your bathing suit. Luckily, most of the oil was on your shirt avoiding the rest of your body.
It was only five so the bar had just opened, “Penny!” You called loudly for the woman as you walked into the Hard Deck.
“Y/N!” She called back before turning to you. When she did her face displayed every emotion. Her smiley face turned to shock as she took in your oily black appearance. Then it turned to confusion as she took in your entire appearance. You must’ve looked like a horror story walking into her bar. No shoes, no shirt and certainly a problem.
“The damn jet ski blew up on me. Marty’s cheap ass won’t upgrade them. It’s certainly nothing that I did!” Crossing your hands over your chest with a pout on your face making your way over to a bar stool you gave her an overly exasperated look.
The last and final emotion that crossed her face was with hilarity. She couldn’t stop laughing once she realized it was more than likely a self-inflicted casualty, “Did it now?”
Nodding your head, you gratefully accepted the rag from her. Beginning to wipe away some more of the oil from your face you heard some commotion from the front door.
“Penny!” A male voice you hadn’t recognized rang through the bar just as yours had seconds prior.
Her brows stitched together in confusion as she had just seen that same scene play out with you not a moment before, “Jake!” She replied, just the same as she had with you. Spinning around in the bar stool you were thankful the rag was covering your mouth because you were sure it would have dropped right then and there. The most devilishly handsome military man just walked through Penny’s doors, and you had your eyes set right on him.
He too, had his eyes set right on you but you had a sneaking suspicion it was from the engine oil that caked your face and upper body, “You have a little something here.” Jake pointed to his forehead giving you a cheeky smirk.
“Oh, thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “So helpful.” Dramatically you took the damp rag wiping your forehead free of motor oil, “Did I get it?” You quipped back.
He nodded smiling, enjoying how much of an attitude you already had with him. It made the game way more fun when they didn’t get off on the right foot, “You got it.” He nodded his head down, “Jake Seresin. Don’t think we’ve met.” The stupid cheeky grin never left his face. Only growing wider when he saw your irritated expression grow.
Quickly, you ran your hand along the other side of your face making sure to coat your hand in oil before accepting the handshake. His grin broke out into a full smile seeing your play. A low chuckle reverberated from his body as your hand coated his in oil, “Sorry, I thought you said I got it?” Giving him a wink, you snatched your hand back from his grip. Easy to do since they were both coated in the slippery liquid.
He tipped his head in your direction, “Fair play ma’am.”
“That’s all I do, Mr. Seresin.” Taking the rag, you fully wiped off your face. You knew your hair was coated but opted to throw it up in a bun until you’d be able to shower it off. Penny gave you a new clean one while she handed Jake a napkin after seeing the exchange between the two of you.
“Did you need something Jake?” Penny interrupted the two young adults who were seemingly very into each other. Penny could tell. She always could. It didn’t help that she hardly knew either of you. You’d just started at the shack two weeks ago, only occasionally crossing paths. You worked early and she worked late.
“I did.” He nodded looking back at you, “But for some odd reason, I can’t remember what that was.” He threw you a wink taking a seat next to you.
You wanted to roll your eyes, but something drew you into him. Like you wanted to know just a little bit more, “Cheesy.”
“She doesn’t like cheesy, noted.” Jake leaned back looking you over. He’d noticed you were just in your swimsuit, not really mad about it.
“Well, I didn’t say that did I?”
He took the beer Penny had poured from him, “Noted.”
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The Second Incident
“No, no, no!” You yelled out while you running around the beach trying to collect the umbrellas that got pulled up by the rather strong gust of wind. You’d gotten three before the fourth got caught in another gust and took off.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed before jogging along the water hoping to catch it before it went out into the ocean. You loved this job, but you didn’t love it that much to go swimming for it.
To your delight the blonde boy from the bar caught it before you did. Coming out of nowhere he grabbed the end of it before quickly closing it. After catching up to him you took the awkwardly large umbrella from his hands, “My hero! Thank you. Might’ve saved my job.”
He smiled back at you almost immediately, enthralled you were chatting with him so easily. It wasn’t that often he came across a woman that could hold her own with him. Natasha being one of the rare few. He had a feeling you were just like her with your quick remarks and witty comebacks, “You’re welcome…You never told me your name.” He frowned looking at you expectedly.
“I didn’t?”
He shook his head, “No ma’am.”
“Hmm.” You began to walk away knowing he’d follow right after you. You were oddly good at this game. Truth be told you hadn’t a clue where your confidence came from. Even with men as attractive as Jake you knew how to wind them up and get them to do your bidding. A unique skill not only reserved for the men. You mom always said you’d make for a great politician because you were a master at manipulating people to do what you needed them to do. She always made it sound cooler than it was. But you sure did use that skill to your advantage in these situations.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?” He caught up to you with ease. Your smaller frame and the gigantic umbrella slowed you down.
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” You gave him a wide grin already seeming to know how to reel him right into you.
He paused for a moment before making his way back to you, “I’ll go ask Penny.”
“Go for it. That’s cheating but it’s fine.” You knew military men had a weird thing with cheating so again, you used it against him.
“That’s not cheating!” He took the umbrella from you, tired of seeing you struggle with it while he knew he could carry it so easily.
“Thanks,” You smiled up at him before heading back to the shack. A nasty storm appeared to be rolling in that wasn’t on the radar that morning. You wouldn’t have set out the umbrellas had you known it would be coming in so quickly, “But it so is cheating!” You couldn’t drop it either.
“In what world?”
You shrugged, “Mine.”
“Fine.” He nodded his head placing the umbrella down in the shack, “What’s it going to take for me to get your name?”
Returning the smile while tapping your finger on your chin you answered him, “I don’t know yet Jake.”
Slumping over slightly he looked a tad defeated, “Well this is impossible.”
“Giving up already Mr. Seresin?” You challenged him. Another thing you knew military men loved, a good challenge.
Shaking his head vigorously he turned the frowned back into that charming smile you already loved, “No, didn’t say that did I?”
Shaking your head, you could only answer, “Fair play military boy.”
“Navy.” He corrected you. Not that you were wrong per say but you weren’t specific enough.
“Navy boy.” You nodded at him, as a touché, “What do you do for the Navy anyway?” You wanted the conversation to continue. Jake intrigued you. Not many people did. You’d come across all sorts of fascinating and downright boring people as you traversed the world. But few captured your attention longer than a few hours.
“If I answer, will you give me your name?”
Shrugging you answered, “Maybe.” You respected the little game he was playing. It was fun. Fun intrigued you. Fun kept you engaged with him.
“I’m a pilot.”
“Ohh, you get to fly fast planes?” He’d really got you now. Planes had always fascinated you. You loved adventure more than anything in the world, but planes always seemed to be off limits, especially fast ones.
“Something like that. We call them jets.”
You nodded along enthralled by the admission, “That’s really cool Jake.” It was a high compliment from you and Jake knew it. He knew he intrigued you as much as you intrigued him. You wouldn’t have tolerated his presence if you felt otherwise. Something he picked up on quickly, you spoke your mind and you weren’t afraid who heard. A rare quality he rarely saw in people.
“It is. I love it.” His smile softened for the first time around you. You noticed how the cheeky grin downturned ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. One you knew that likely didn’t come around often.
“Y/N. That’s my name.”
“Y/N.” He repeated back, “That’s beautiful.”
“You should tell that to my mother. My dad wanted to name me Heidi. She saved me from that childhood torture. Bless that woman.” Smiling you leaned back against the shack.
Jake smiled a bit wider taking in the small bits of information you were willing to share about yourself. He had a feeling you were a closed book masking being an open one. He understood, he was the same way. An extroverted persona on the outside and a hidden softer side that only came out around people that wee trusted. There was nothing wrong with this per say it was just exhausting. Having to put a wall up 24/7 wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.
“Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to Y/N.”
You giggled. A sound you hadn’t heard in so long. The last time you felt this stupidly giddy from a boy’s comment was ages ago, back in college when you were tied down, “Maybe Mr. Seresin. Just maybe.”
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The Third Incident
The day was brutal. The sun beamed down at you all morning and afternoon. You could hardly sit in the shade because almost all of your equipment was rented out. It wasn’t a bad thing. You were raking in tips. But it made for a long and exhausting day. That paired with no air conditioning made you feel like you were starting to go a little crazy.
So, when you turned over the key in your vehicle and it didn’t start you all but lost it. You let yourself yell once and shed a tear out of frustration before heading into Penny’s place. Lucky for you she opened up a bit earlier on the weekends to attract more customers from the beach who wanted to day drink.
You spotted the woman quickly before making a beeline straight towards her, “Penny, please tell me your mechanic of a boyfriend is around.”
She frowned, “No, he’s out of town. What’s up?”
“Damn.” You sighed taking a seat at the nearly empty bar. You hadn’t seen Jake and his Navy buddies sitting in the back as you made your way straight to the bar. But he saw you. He always noticed you. The simple chats started turning deeper as both of you tip toed around what you both wanted but neither wanted to admit, “This one’s going to cost me. Car won’t start. Hopefully it’s just the starter or the battery.”
Both of you were terribly afraid of commitment for one reason or another. But sometimes that spark that you find can’t be put out. The flame couldn’t be diminished. It needed to be explored. The spark was slowly growing into a flame and neither of you wanted to extinguish it but neither brave enough to let it grow. To let the flame, turn into a fire. For that meant commitment. And commitment was terrifying.
It made sense for Jake. He was always on the move. Always going from one base to the next. Early in his career he would try but it got too hard. It was hard to fall for someone and then have to move because he was reassigned to a new base. It was way easier being an asshole who was there for the hookup than commit to someone. But it was different now. He’d completed all his goals. Done what he wanted to accomplish as a pilot. If he ever wanted to be an admiral, he needed to clean up his act and excel as an instructor at Top Gun. Show Naval leadership he was meant to be a leader too.
It made sense for you too. You were in an amazing relationship throughout college. You’d met a boy early on in your freshman year and stayed with him through your senior year. He’d even proposed. But then he got sick. The sickness took him away from you. So, you ran. Your wild child was let out. You couldn’t be tied down again. You couldn’t go through that again.
“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry Y/N. How about a beer on the house?” She smiled as sweetly as she could. She knew how shitty the feeling was. Unreliable vehicles were the worst. Lucky for you it wasn’t a far walk home worst come to worst. The only downfall of the lifestyle was never having enough money. A tow was certainly out of budget. It needed to be fixed in the lot. You’d figure it out. You always did.
Sighing and lifting your head from the bar top you gave her a thumbs up, “Thanks Penny.”
Her eyes widened spotting the blonde pilot making his way over to you. Penny was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She certainly wasn’t blind. She didn’t know Jake well, but she’d heard about him. Heard all the rumors of the fuck boy that he supposedly was. She’d yet to see it. Over the last few weeks, he’d had nothing but eyes for you.
Penny had also gotten to know you a whole hell of a lot better as you spent the last bit of your day here all too often now. There were usually hardly any customers and Penny lent the best conversation you’ve come across in San Diego. So, you started coming to the Hard Deck every day after work. She realized quickly that you were damn near oblivious to Jake’s feelings. Always flirting back but never agreeing with Penny about his intentions.
“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Jake had begun using those sweet terms of endearment a few days ago. Finally finding the courage to make his feelings a little more obviously known. But of course, you hadn’t a clue. It didn’t mean anything for you. Your way of deflecting, naturally.
“Jake, hey.” You straightened up a bit, “Car won’t start.”
He frowned, “That’s no good. Let me take a look.”
Your eyes peaked up in curiosity, “You know cars?”
“I know jets. How different can cars really be?”
Laughing you nodded, “I’m pretty sure they’re really different actually.”
“You have no faith in me darling.”
“Oh, have at it. Just don’t break it any further.” You smiled taking a sip of the beer. He stood for the stool waiting for you.
Giving him a quizzical look, he continued, “After you.”
“You were being serious?” You set the glass down. It wasn’t very often that people went out their way to help you. That was another problem with the nomadic lifestyle you’d become accustom too.
“As a heart attack. I’ve got some tools in my truck. I can figure it out.”
Hopping down from the stool you gave Penny a wave. She gave you a knowing head shake waving you off. Leading Jake to your car you popped the hood to give him a look.
“Can you turn it over?” He asked. Giving him a nod, you tried to start the engine only to be met with silence, “Just a dead battery. Let me go get my truck for a jump start.”
Another few moments and a jump start later you were met with a started vehicle. Jake parked the truck next to yours. Getting out you were too afraid to turn it off before driving to a car shop to swap out the battery.
“This time you’re my Knight in Shining Armour.” You gleamed up at him as he made his way to the driver’s side of your vehicle.
“I’m honored, really.”
“Thanks, fly boy. I gotta go get a new battery now.”
“Fly boy?” He smirked.
“Mhmm, heard you and your friends talking the other day. The girl said it and it stuck. I like it. Fly boy.”
He opened your car door, “Then you can call me fly boy. If you like it.”
“Didn’t know I needed your permission.” Again, you challenged him. You always seemed to challenge him. Making him second guess that smoothness that always seemed to work. Not on you though. You got the better of him all too often now.
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The Fourth Incident
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You grumbled taking a seat in front of the knotted mess before you. You’d let the boys take the parasail up only for them to come back to you with a sheepish grin on their faces and a very tangled parasail before them.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Doug, usually your favorite co-worker replied seeing your very annoyed expression.
“It’s fine… just go help the customers. This is going to take me a while.” You let out a frustrated groan. At least it was a mindless task.
“Yeah, okay.” He nodded and quickly left, not wanting to get another earful from you.
“They certainly don’t make this job easy.” You sighed leaning back against the shack. You didn’t have a particular talent for untangling things, but you knew the boys certainly didn’t have the patience to even try. So here you were stuck with a loopy mess of ropes and cables.
“You always talk to yourself?” That now-familiar voice of the blonde pilot spoke out startling you from your focus.
Jumping slightly, you slapped his ankle, “You always stalk me?”
“I do not.” He scoffed sliding down the wall to sit down right next to you. He was close but neither of you made the effort to move farther apart.  Not even a little. He let his thigh rest against your bare one. It was a hot one, so you were without shorts, just bathing suit bottoms. He was testing your boundaries and you were more than happy to welcome him right on in.
“I didn’t say I was complaining about it.” You quipped back.
You earned a hearty laugh from him. A sound you’d learned to cherish over the blossoming friendship you wished would turn something more, “You never cease to surprise me Y/N.”
“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You grinned up at him momentarily forgetting about the mess laid before you.
“It’s a great thing.” He answered quickly not wanting to place doubt into your head, “You’re incredible. You know that right?”
Heart stuttering you snapped your head back up to him. What was he saying? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to get you all sorts of flustered because it was certainly working. You’d always been awkward when receiving compliments so when Jake threw that one at you it made you want to disappear right then and there.
“If you think so.” You nodded your head gingerly making sure to focus your attention on the rope and not the gazing eyes of the man you’ve been crushing on a little too hard.
He took your hand in his, “I know so. You’re beyond fascinating. Every time I get to know a little bit more about you, I’m infinitely more intrigued by you. Rooster called me out on it, said I never seemed to shut up about you.” He admitted. He wasn’t all too sure why he was telling you this. It was easy with you. He wanted to tell you things. Things he’d never dream of sharing with a girl before. But with you it felt so natural. So effortless.
It wasn’t often somebody could make you blush, but Jake was doing an exquisite job of it. A fiery blaze crested up your neck settling on your cheeks. Thankful it was warm out you could just blame it on the sun, “Rooster?” You questioned. You’d yet to meet any of his friends but that didn’t seem like a terribly common name.
“Bradley. The one with the stash. It’s a call sign. We all have one.” He smiled knowing just how odd it sounded when he said it out loud.
“What’s yours?” You asked wanting the conversation to go on. He too intrigued you. You seemed to get lost in conversation whenever you ran into him. It too felt natural with him. Like two puzzle pieces just waiting to be linked together.
“Hangman.”
You smiled wondering where in the hell that could’ve come from, “That’s an interesting call sign.”
“You think?” His eyes stitched together in curiosity.
“For sure. I wonder what mine would be? I’m not cool enough though. I’d never make it.” You admitted to him looking away afraid you’ve overstepped.
He studied you up and down as if trying to come up with one on the spot. Not a second later he responded with one, almost as if he’d thought it through before, “I’d call you Bird.”
“Bird?” You grinned curious as to why.
“You’re a free spirit. Like a bird. Floating through the air making it look effortless even though you’re working harder than ever. You have a certain ease to you that makes you so free.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “And you’d make it just fine. You’re more levelheaded than half the guys I train on a regular basis.”
“Oh, that’s frightening Jake. I’m not even that levelheaded!” You laughed feeling a bit concerned over the state of who was employed by the Navy.
“I know.” He winked at you letting his leg full press into yours. The closeness let goosebumps ripple down your legs sending a shiver over your body. It frightened you how easily he affected you both mentally and clearly physically, “It’s terrifying who they let fly those things huh?” He laughed taking a cable in hand beginning to help you.
“Suppose you have to be some level of crazy, eh?” You giggled picking up another cord after untangling the first.
“You bet sweetheart.” He turned his body more towards you, pressing his thigh further into yours. You were sure you were about to explode from the contact. Hopefully it didn’t look like it. You had to play this cool. You’ve been doing so damn good over the last few weeks. But he was making it hard, very hard, “So.” He continued before pausing again giving you a look as he picked up another tangled cable.
“So.” You responded by looking back at him. He was giving you a look you had yet to see from him just yet. Almost nervous?
“Where are you off to next? Doesn’t seem like you stay in one place for too long.”
You shrugged, “I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue. I like it here though. Usually something just falls into my lap taking me onto the next thing…” You smiled reminiscing through some memories before continuing, “But like I said. I like it here. The weather is amazing, and the people are even better.”
You really hadn’t thought about moving on. Not yet at least. It felt like you’d finally gotten into a rhythm here. Normally that’d terrify you. But it felt so damn right here. Like something was begging you to stay. That something might have been sitting there in front of you. Even if you’ve only been here a few months and known him less than that it still felt right. If there was one thing you always did was trust your gut and it was telling you to stay. Screaming at you to stay. It was a foreign feeling for you, but you welcomed it. The nomadic lifestyle was utterly exhausting and somewhat lonely. You were ready for change as you approached your thirtieth year.
He cracked another smile at your last statement, “Yeah? Even better than the Swiss?”
“Mhmm.” You nodded looking up to him again. You could’ve melted right then in there if humans could. The look he was giving you could make a strong man weak, “Way better than the Swiss. Much cuter too.” You chimed in making sure he knew you were talking about him.
“High praise.” He smirked leaning his whole body just a bit closer. You’d usually protest as it was so fucking hot out but this was a dream for you. Jake was practically on top of you this time. It must have looked funny from a distance. Two sweaty young people lost in each other’s eyes almost on top of each other on the beach.
“It’s only the truth.” Your face was so close to his. God you’d give anything to just kiss him. But you wouldn’t dream of making that move. That’s far too bold even for you. And what if he didn’t want it? You’d never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment.
“Y/N?” He asked.
“Yeah?”
“I’m planning on staying for a little while too. I’m tired of jumping base to base. I just want to stay somewhere for a while you know?”
“It’s tiring.” You agreed with him, “I get it.”
“Would you stay here?”
You nodded your head vigorously, “I would. For the right reasons.”
Licking his lips while looking at yours he mimicked your head nod, “Good to know.”
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The Fifth Incident
Standing waist deep in the ocean you wanted to be annoyed but the man standing in front of you was making that very difficult to do so. His cute little grin and snickers only made you laugh along with him, “Which one’s the gas again?” Jake asked leaning back on the jet ski you were trying to get him to take out.
“Right hand is the throttle, for the fourth time Mr. Seresin.” Playfully rolling your eyes you walked around the jet ski to do the final checks ensuring it was up to snuff before he took it out on the ocean.
Grinning from ear to ear he knew he had you. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger. Not that he was any different. You had him whipped and you weren’t even dating yet. Instead, the two of you were dancing around deeper emotions every time you saw one another. And the two of you sure did see each other as often as possible. After he helped you untangle the mess that was the parasail the two of you made it a point to see each other every day. He’d come find you while you were wrapping up work or you’d meet him at the Hard Deck.
You’d even gone so far as to meet a few of his Navy friends, at his request. Being far too nervous and not having a clue what the relationship was with the blonde pilot you were nervous to meet them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer though, bringing them to you instead.
As unshy as you were with your opinions it was becoming harder and harder to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with him. You were having far too much fun in this stage that you didn’t want to ruin it. You started to have legitimate feelings for the flighty boy. It terrified you a bit. The last time you allowed yourself to feel things it ended horribly.
But even you had to admit you were exhausted of running. Running from feeling things. Afraid to commit to somebody. Afraid to tie yourself down.
“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.,” Wiggling his eyebrows he leaned over towards you as you finished up the pre-op checklist.
“You’re welcome, Hangman.” This time you were smirking, loving to throw him off his game whenever you could. Initially refusing to use the call sign you decided to only throw it out there when you felt like you needed to one up him.
Eyes raised in curiosity he broke out into a grin seeing your expression. He’d never felt like this before. Felt so effortlessly comfortable around somebody. Like he knew you’d never judge him for a thing. You’d be there for him no questions asked. The two of you just clicking like nothing he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He had to admit it terrified him a bit. But he was also excited. To try something new. To dive into a relationship with you headfirst. So long as that’s what you wanted. That’s why he was playing it so cool. He knew how much of a flight risk you were if he moved to fast. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before he even had the chance to try it out. So, he decided to let you get comfortable and hopefully make a move. If you were too afraid to do so he’d do it eventually. He had nothing but time with you though. So, he wasn’t going to rush it. Terrified to mess it up before it started.
“So how long do I get out there darling?” He was testing your boundaries now. Wanting to see how you’d react.
Your heart rapidly picked up pace hearing that term of endearment escape his lips knowing that you could really get used to hearing it, “Thirty minutes. Then I have paying customers booked. So don’t be late.” You eyed him making sure he got your message loud and clear. He’d been begging you to go on one, but you’ve quite literally been booked out. Busy season was mad. But you had a customer cancel on you last minute which gave Jake the opportunity.
“Got it. See you soon pretty.” He shot you a wink before speeding off. Making sure to splash you with the throttle. Flipping him off you rung your hair out as you walked out of the ocean.
You’d only noticed he’d been gone for a little too long when the next clients walked up. You searched the ocean spotting Jake drifting a little bit further out than he should’ve been. Hopping on the reserved Jet Ski for staff you took off in his direction.
“What the hell Jake? I said thirty minutes.” You frowned at him pulling up beside his weirdly quiet one.
“I would’ve darling but well, it died on me.”
“Hop on.” You sighed annoyed the stupid thing gave out on you. It always reminded you of how cheap the dude who ran this place was.
You hooked the tow line up to it, getting good at it now, before towing everything in, “Looks like you caught me at a bad time.” You felt him chuckle as he pressed his chest into your back. Taking full advantage of being the passenger. You were thankful you couldn’t see his shirtless chest, that’d surely send you over the edge now.
“At least it’s you this time.” You laughed along with him. You felt as his arms tightened around your waist. Pulling him all that much closer to you.
Much to your chagrin you reached the beach before you knew it. Jake waited around as you got the family off on their adventure. Approaching him with a grin on your face you sat next to him at the picnic table by the shack, “Have fun at least?” You asked.
“Absolutely. Any time I get to spend with you is a good time.”
Pushing his side lightly you hid your gaze away from him, “Cheesy.”
“Only for you.” He snaked his arm around your waist. Not forcing you to look up to him but letting you know he had you.
Another goofy grin graced your features. He always knew what to say, “You’re sweet to me Jake.”
He nodded, “Because I like you. A lot. You know that right?” He admitted straight out. He let you go at your own pace, but he wanted you to know now. He knew. He adored you. He’d never felt this type of way with anybody before you. He thought he had but he realized he hadn’t. This was something special.
“You do?” Confusion then joy broke out from your face
“I do.” His smile turned up even further seeing the recognition cross your face. Had you really not known? Or were you in your own head like he had been so many times before?
“Like more than friends like?” You asked to confirm.
“Way more than friends.”
“Oh, wow.” You turned away heart racing. Sure, your face was as bright as a cherry tomato it was now or never. He’d laid it all out on the line for you. You could do it.
“Hopefully that’s a good wow.” Smirking he leaned a little closer to you.
It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, “It’s a very good wow.”
“Yeah? Then you’ll let me take you on a date?” Jake didn’t often look nervous, but he looked terrified now. He hadn’t expected this. Not even in the slightest. But he’d roll with it.
“You’d want to?” You returned your eyes back to his.
“Oh darling, I’d love to.” He reassured you taking your hand in his.
“Then I say yes.”
“Tomorrow?”
“You that excited?” You teased him.
“Sweetheart, I’m more than excited. Whatever that is.” Tossing you a wink he stood from his seat, “I’ll pick you up at six. Can’t wait to see you pretty.”
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nckluxuryrentacar · 2 years
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dualuxuryrentacar · 1 year
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fairyrcts · 20 days
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thinkin bout you, c.s.
by fairyrcts contents - angst, cursing, intended lowercase, use of y/n, 3rd person, mentions of depression
it was 2 am in new york and y/n was just getting home. her day was exhausting to say the least. the struggle of being a full time college student with a job and rent to pay in new york is something that was unimaginable.
she fiddled with her keys, eventually finding her apartment key. she unlocked her door to her roomate, aleah, sat on the couch watching some cheesy rom-com on her laptop. y/n dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes at the door.
y/n stopped in her tracks. "christopher sturniolo?" her voice was slightly shooken.
"hey hey." aleah waved.
"hey, girl. watcha watchin?" y/n's voice rang as she walked to the open kitchen, grabbing a cup and poaring ice water.
"27 dresses. literally never seen this dumb shit before but evangeline wants me to see it."
aleah was the definition of a stud. she was gorgeous, too. dark complexion, curly hair that hung in front of her face and piercings on her plump lips and nose.
evangeline was her girlfriend, who y/n's only met a few times. usually in the mornings after getting very little sleep from their noises filling the small apartment.
"man, that movie's so mid. did we get any mail?" y/n chuckled as she walked back in the living room, sitting in the opposing sofa.
"any mail?"
"uh, one from some credit card company and someone left a note in the crack of the door. said to y/n from chris sturnolo." she spoke, her eyes not leaving the computer.
christopher was her childhood bestfriend. they were in almost every class together since kindergarten. they were inseparable. they did sports together, went to prom together, went to get their drivers license together (guess who didn't pass). they were family, at this point.
after college, she never heard from him again. happy birthdays and merry christmases every year or likes on every post, but not a single text, call, email, anything. she talked to nick and matt regularly, but not chris.
she'd ask how he was and they'd give short, vague, one-word answers. it was unfair, really. because there wasn't another soul on earth that knew her better than chris did, and all that time was wasted.
it's been 3 years without a word. and just now he's contacting her. her mind rambled as to what might have gone wrong, otherwise, there wasn't a reason to speak to her. now, especially. she'd been such a mess after leaving for cornell, and she debated not going to stay with chris. but he convinced her, saying he'll stay in touch and talk to her every day.
so much for that promise.
"uh, yeah, chris sturniolo, sturnolo, stromboli, all the same to me." her roomate shook her out of her thoughts.
"aleah, where's the damn letter?" y/n's voice sounded scared almost, not understanding what's going on.
"over on the bookshelf." aleah pointed to the letter wrapped with a little bow and a stamp in the corner of the boston streets.
her hands hurried and undid the bow, ripping the envelope open and unfolding the letter.
Dear Y/n
There seriously isn't an explanation for my distance. After you left for college I fell into such a state of depression and I don't know why but I was scared to contact you. I mean, you're out doing great big things, NYU and detective criminal type stuff. Meanwhile, I'm still here in Massachusetts, I just moved out of my parents house a year and a half ago and my career is making videos on the internet. I guess it was the jealousy that stopped me from speaking to you or some kind of fear. But all I know is that I miss you, dearly. And I guess this is kind of me asking do you think about me still? Because I haven't stopped thinkin about you.
(p.s. i know i couldve sent this over text but i didnt know if you blocked me or not)
just his handwriting caused tears to stream down y/n's face. the note itself, the words and his explanation made her sob.
she made her way to her room, shutting the door behind her. she reached for her phone in her back pocket and called chris's contact.
it rang three times before he answered. there was silence on his end, soft sobs on hers.
"chris, where the hell are you and why did you answer so late?" she said through sniffles and cries.
"i'm uh, in syracuse right now. we're here with nate for his birthday. i asked matt for your address and uhm, i was waiting for you to call." chris's voice sounded nervous almost.
"so you're.. able to come see me?" she asked to which chris affirmed.
"give me the name of your hotel. i'm coming over." she spoke. her tone wasn't demanding, but chris knew it was a demand.
chris told her the name and room number, y/n writing down each letter. after he had explained the whole thing she hung up without warning. she walked out of her room, her movements were fast as she wiped tears off her cheeks.
"woah, what's up?" aleah asked, concerned.
"i'll tell you when i'm back." y/n brushed her off, grabbing her keys, leaving and shutting the door quite harshly.
she jogged down the stairs, her hand grazing the railings and the other jingling the keys with each step.
she pushed the door that so clearly said pull. the frustration just added to her unexplainable feelings.
"why the fuck won't this shit open!?" she shouted. the small, teenage boy at the front desk squeaked out a few words.
"it's uhm. it's pull. y-you're pushing it." y/n looked down at the sign.
"shut the fuck up, curtis!" she yelled once more, yanking the door and storming out of it.
"dumb ass name." y/n mumbled to herself. she walked hurriedly to her car, clicking the unlock button on her keeys and jumping in the drivers seat.
she turned it on, putting the ignition in reverse. she internally conflicted wether or not to put on music. of course, there was no need for it. buttt to make the whole event more dramatic, she turned on her playlist, thinkin bout you by frank ocean coming in through the speakers.
the music made tears swell up in her eyes. the whole situation was just fucked.
her car sped, running through red lights here and there, honking at any car that was slow or in front of her.
when she arrived at the hotel, she shut off her music and her car, locking it as she slammed the door of it behind her. she pulled the door to the entrance to the entrence of the large hotel, the door refusing to open.
"it's a push door!" the lady at the front desk yelled loud enough to be heard.
"oh, fuck me." y/n groaned, finally opening the door. she stormed inro the elevator, the front desk lady attempting to stop her by shouting 'miss'.
as if that was gonna stop her. y/n pressed the 4 button aggressively, multiple times.
"hurry the fuck up!" she was so out of it, she was yelling at an inanimate button.
when the door started opening, she squeezed herself through the space, looking at the numbers on each door until she found the 103 in a big font.
she knocked hard and loud continuously until the door opening interrupted her.
and now, she was faced with the man who made her, and broke her.
the two stared into one anothers eyes momentarily before y/n brought a hand up and smacked the side of his face.
a 'youch' came out of chris's mouth. he rubbed the side of his face that was now red while y/n began rambling.
"now, what the fuck is wrong with you! i mean, you know better! christopher, holy fuck, where do i even begin with you!?" her voice rang through the halls as she pushed herself into the room.
"i- i don't know." chris's tone was sorrowful, but that wasn't necessarily something she cared about right now.
"you are such a douchebag! i fucking can't believe you. ignoring my calls, texts, letters, everything! the only information i ever got about you was through 10 picture slideshows on instagram and your brothers, who werent much of a help! you can say whatever all you want, but chris, i was so mentally fucked up! i was so behind in my classes, that you know i put a humongous amount of effort into getting into, i was rude and emotional all the time and pushed away people i love and adore because i was so hung up on the thought that you stopped caring and you stopped loving me! you know how terrible of a feeling that is? to believe that the one person you love most in the world doesn't give two damn shits about what you're doing now? do you?!"
she yelled and yelled and yelled as her eyes didn't just shed tears, but boy, they poured.
"n-no, no i don't know how that feels." christopher mumbled as water welled up in his own eyes.
"yeah, and that's because you know i'm incapable of unloving you! you're aware of my love for you, because i reminded you every day. you know i wear my heart on my sleeve and you still pulled this dumb shit! i don't even know how you managed to do such thing! i was at such a terrible place, chris."
her words were less aggressive now as she cried tears of sadness rather than anger. she sat herself on one of the two hotel beds while chris sat beside her. he awkwardly pulled her into a hug, y/n leaning into it immediately.
her head laid in his lap as he rubbed her back, whispering small shushes every now and then while she kept bawling.
"y'know. i've been thinkin' bout you. i never stopped, really. i just- i don't even have an excuse. and you can keep yelling at me, and i'll keep listening, but i can't explain as to why i didn't. i just don't know, y/n." his voice was calm and gentle and his hands glided up and down her side.
once she finally stopped crying, she sat up and wiped her tears. "I'm sorry." chris stated, his eyes meaningful along with his voice.
that's all she wanted to hear.
he pulled her into an embrace once more, engulfing himself in the girl he missed so deeply.
"i was thinkin' bout you, too, y'know." she mumbled into his neck.
and that's all he wanted to hear.
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More Sherlock & Co Headcanons
Because y'all like the first ones so much.
Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.
John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.
When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.
John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.
Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.
Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.
You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.
@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.
John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.
Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.
Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.
Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.
John makes the cutest sleep noises.
Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.
SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE
Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.
AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.
Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.
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incorrectbatfam · 10 months
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I think you missed one member of Rob's crew. Their friend Jason Todd who comes round every so often with pizza and is actually rich or something.
A new neighbor moved in across the hall.
Rob didn't think much of it. People came in and out all the time. Traveling workers, runaway kids, aimless drifters. Half the tenants were squatters at any given time yet here he was paying rent like a total sucker.
He spat into the sink and rinsed. In the chipped mirror cabinet, he inspected himself. His rust-colored stubble was coming in, but not so quickly that he needed to shave today. He shrugged and threw on a clean shirt.
In the living room—if he could call it that, since it practically overlapped the kitchen—Milo entertained the kids with a mobile game while Gene was reading an Edgar Allen Poe book falling apart at the spine. They were the only other permanent residents besides the Steeler family. The rest of the crew came in and out as they pleased.
Rob said, "Kids, did you eat breakfast yet?"
The two six-year-olds nodded. The fifteen-year-old gave an affirmative grunt, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"What'd you have?" Rob asked.
"Donuts!" answered Gunner.
He raised an eyebrow. "Donuts?"
"Jay from across the hall brought them," said Jackie. "He also gave us these special donut hats. Look!"
Paper crinkled as she unfolded a Krispy Kreme hat and put it on top of her frizzy hair.
"I see." He nodded.
"Don't worry, I tested it first," Gene said.
"Thanks."
As Rob poured his morning coffee, he glanced at the box of a dozen donuts. A few of them were missing, naturally, but there was still a wide range of flavors. Next to it was an unfinished thank you card from Jackie, presumably before she got distracted.
Normally, he wouldn't think twice about the neighbors. But this one—this Jay who wouldn't even tell them his last name—had been on Rob's mind since the first "anonymous" free pizza delivery a week ago. Of course, with online ordering there was always a digital footprint, which Mac tracked to the apartment across the hall. After that, there was the "anonymous" Chinese takeout.
Then, Jay started talking to them and it was the standard neighborly conversations down by the mail room. When he asked Rob what he did for a living, Rob answered vaguely that he was freelancing. Gene was unemployed and he could outright say it. Jay also asked the kids what they wanted for the upcoming holidays when the complex residents were setting up the Christmas tree. Jackie wanted a pony and Gunner wanted a monster truck, and for a moment it seemed like Jay was in serious consideration.
Still, Jay was a stranger. As the encounters continued, it became an unspoken rule that either Rob or Gene be with the kids when the young man was around. One could never be too cautious in Gotham.
Rob finished his coffee and debated taking a donut, but ultimately decided against it. He grabbed his jacket, keys, and pack of cigarettes, telling Milo and the kids (mostly Milo) not to make a mess in the ten minutes he would be gone.
He didn't like smoking on the balcony. It was too close to the children and he didn't want them to get sick. Worse, he didn't want them to pick up the same dirty habit that he only got hooked on because he was a dumb kid that didn't know any better.
He trekked four floors down only to find, lo and behold, he wasn't alone.
A cigarette hung from Jay's fingers as he leaned against the brick wall at the entryway. "'Sup."
Rob acknowledged him with a short nod before lighting his own.
Rob glanced at Jay. It wasn't his first time observing but he always liked to note the subtle changes. The young man—about a decade younger than Rob—sported only a red sweatshirt and grease-stained jeans despite the cold. Since last time, Jay had gained a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his forehead just under his white streak. Rob didn't know what his neighbor did for a living other than it left him with a different mottling of injuries every week.
Jay spoke. "Ever heard of third-hand smoke?"
Rob. "What's that?"
"Firsthand is what we're doing right now, basically inhaling these cancer sticks. Secondhand would be if someone was standing close to us while we do it. Thirdhand smoke is the smell left on you after you go back inside and it's potentially harmful," he said. "You have kids, right?"
"The hell kind of question is that? You've met then."
"I'm just saying, you might wanna consider stopping by the laundry before you go back up."
"Fantastic. Another way I'm a shit dad." Rob grunted and took a drag.
Jay flicked some ashes off. "I know a think or two about shit fathers and the fact that you're worried about being one means you're on the right track."
"How can I be a good dad when I can't even provide them breakfast?"
"I asked your older kid and he said it was fine."
"Milo isn't mine and he's not the one in charge. Next time, take it up with me."
"Duly noted."
Rob took another long drag and ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the past two days' worth of residue from not washing. It caked under his nails like week-old bacon grease on unwashed dishes. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. All of him.
The sleeping around. The accidental pregnancy with a woman he barely knew. The fights. Him throwing her out into a rainstorm. Becoming a widower before he turned thirty with two kids who will never remember her. The backbreaking jobs. Not being good enough to not be laid off. The sketchy investment and losing nearly everything. The sneaking, the breaking, the taking.
And the excuses. All the ways he convinced himself he was in the right.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Jay asked.
"I doubt it's worth a even penny," Rob answered. "I've just been wondering lately what my kids will remember me as when they get older. The business I'm in doesn't have a good reputation and I don't want that to be the first thing that comes to mind when they think of me—someone who only takes. I dunno why I'm telling you all this."
"Hey, it's a valid concern. The work I do also leaves me with those types of questions."
"What do you do?" he asked.
"A little bit of everything," Jay replied vaguely. "But back to what I was saying: your kids aren't gonna remember your day job. But I know they'll remember you putting them on your shoulders to hang the tinsel last weekend."
"I admit, you got a point." Rob flattened the cigarette butt under his boot before tossing it in the nearly trash can. "Anyway, thanks for co-hosting my morning pity party, but I have some errands to run. Starting with laundry."
Jay smiled. "I'll see you around."
"Hopefully," he said, smiling back.
There was something familiar about his neighbor, but Rob couldn't put his finger on it.
Ah, well. At least this one came with free food. Rob would be an idiot if he didn't take a donut while the washing machine wrung the smoke out his clothes.
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