#jake x f. reader

[freaky-enhamadswriter]

✿ ◉ ◉ ◉ 𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀

Pairing: [ENHYPEN] Jake x Female!Reader

Genre: Married AU, Domestic Smut, Fluff & Spice

Themes: Husband!Jake, teasing, soft domination, lingerie kink, body worship, oral (f. receiving), begging, unprotected p in v, praise, soft aftercare

Synopsis: Married life with Jake is sweet, steamy and sometimes full of teasing surprises. During a shopping trip, he spots a pink satin robe you insist you’re not bold enough to wear. But Jake knows better. And when night falls? That robe isn’t staying on for long.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀

It started innocently enough.

Saturday afternoon. Hand in hand. A shopping trip for skincare and candles. But of course, Jake wandered off into the lingerie section.

“Babe,” he said, voice already way too smug. “You have to try this on.”

You turned—and your eyes almost fell out of your skull.

A pink satin robe. Barely thigh-length. Completely see-through. Trimmed in soft lace and delicate silk ribbons. Scandalous.

“Jake,” you hissed. “That’s not even—there’s no coverage!”

“Exactly.” His smirk widened. “Perfect for sleeping.”

You crossed your arms. “We’re not getting it.”

Jake walked closer, arms snaking around your waist. “But imagine how pretty you’d look in it. All soft and pink and mine.”

His lips ghosted over your ear. “Please, baby. Just for me?”

You groaned—because he knew exactly what that tone did to you.

Fine. You bought it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The satin was cool on your skin. Sheer enough that your nipples pressed through, the lace barely concealing your breasts. You fiddled with the ribbon at the waist—nervous, embarrassed, turned on.

You weren’t even sure why you put it on.

Yes, you did. Jake begged.

The door creaked.

Jake stepped inside the bedroom—his eyes dragging down your body like you were something to devour. His jaw clenched, brows twitching with restraint. Sweatpants low on his hips, abs on full display, hair still messy from the shower.

“Turn around.”

Your breath hitched. You did.

Jake groaned softly. “Fuck, baby…”

In two slow strides, he was behind you. One hand slipped around your waist, pulling you back into him—his hardness pressed flush against your ass. The other hand ghosted up your front, palm cupping your breast through the robe. He hissed softly.

“Wearing this for me?” he whispered, lips at your neck. “All soft and pink like a pretty little gift?”

“J-Jake—”

“Shh,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “No more teasing. No more running. Tonight, you’re mine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝙊𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙙.

He pushed you down gently, the robe still on but completely open. He kissed down your chest, tongue flicking at your nipples, dragging soft moans from your lips.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “So wet already.”

Two fingers slid down between your thighs, parting you slowly. He groaned.

“So pretty,” he muttered, thumb pressing against your clit while his fingers circled your entrance. “So fucking ready for me.”

When his tongue finally replaced his fingers, you nearly sobbed. He licked long and slow, savoring every taste. His tongue worked your clit expertly, circling and sucking until your legs were trembling, voice hoarse from moaning.

“Jake—I can’t—I’m—”

“Give it to me, baby,” he growled. “Cum for me.”

You shattered on his mouth, back arching off the bed. He didn’t stop—he held you there, tongue and fingers relentless until you were writhing, begging for him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴

Jake hovered over you, panting, lips shiny from your slick.

“You think I’m done?”

You whimpered.

“Not even close.”

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. The other guided his cock to your entrance, dragging the thick head along your folds. Teasing.

“I should fuck you just like this,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. “Open. Dripping. Desperate.”

And then—he thrust in deep.

You cried out—more pleasure than pain—as he stretched you fully, filled you to the hilt. He groaned into your neck.

“So fucking tight.”

His pace started slow, hips grinding, dragging against every spot that made you see stars. The robe was still on—barely hanging on your shoulders—and Jake used it to pull you closer, fucking into you harder, deeper.

“You look so pretty in pink,” he panted. “But you look better like this—ruined.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, moaning louder with every stroke.

“Tell me who owns this pussy,” he growled.

“You, Jake—fuck, it’s yours—”

“That’s right.” He licked a stripe up your throat. “Mine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you came again, he came with you.

His hips stuttered, cock pulsing deep inside as he spilled inside you, warm and thick. He kissed you hungrily, hands trembling from the intensity. You both stayed there—tangled, breathless.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲

Jake grabbed a warm towel, cleaned you up slowly. Lovingly. Kisses to your thighs, your stomach, your forehead.

Then he pulled the satin robe over you again.

“Told you you’d look perfect in it.”

You curled into him, cheeks flushed, still dazed.

“Next time,” he whispered, brushing your hair back, “you wear it and call me Daddy.”

---

𝕋𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥?

[b1mbodoll]

HEAR ME OUTTTT

hybrid jake and sunghoon in heat PLEASE PLEASEEE ADD OMO PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

hearing u out and in return i offer hybrids jakehoon and their human owner…they Know you’re not a hybrid but when ur ovulating it’s like .. they go dumb and stupid and theyre just sex crazed himbos

you wake up to hoon sliding his cock between your thighs and jake mouthing at your tits because their brain has them thinking that their mate is in heat n needs their cocks :(

you’re Obviously turned on n reciprocate, sliding a hand between your legs to jerk sunghoon off and pulling jake in for a messy kiss that’s absolutely disgusting. poor puppy is drooling n sucking your tongue into his mouth, a pair of used panties wrapped tight around his fist as he humps his hand.

moans and whines tumble out of u and theyre quick to tear your clothes off, kitty sunghoon spitting on his cock before splitting your impossibly tight ass open, dog hybrid jake tossing your panties somewhere before clumsily humping your bare cunt, keening when he finally slips inside

they try to match each others thrusts n its not long before they cum, both cocks making you feel even tighter than usual and theyre obsessed with making you cum

they won’t stop either, no matter how long theyve been going at it; you’re their sweet little mate n your body is telling them that you Need to be fucked. they’ll fill you up with load after load after load of thick nd virile cum, getting so lost in your holes and your scent and how wet you are for them, kitty hoon’s claws sinking into your hips to keep you still as he fills you up again

puppy jake’s teeth find your throat and dig into the flesh, growls making his chest rumble as warmth spurts from his tip

but there’s something… off this time.

their cum is warm, and splashes within you and seems neverending and oh. it’s not cum

they’ve been breeding you for hours and the three of you are too dumb to realize until it’s already happening, that they’re both flooding your insides with piss

jake’s knot keeps his cum and piss locked in your cunt, the amount is overwhelming and it’s so fucking warm, but sunghoon doesn’t have a knot..

you don’t know what to focus on: how jake plugs your cunt and traps the mess inside of you? or how sunghoon’s mix of cum and piss leaks out, spilling onto the sheets and even dribbling onto your poor, stuffed cunt.

[polarisjisung]

JAKE BF TEXTS

PAIRINGS: jake × fem! reader, established relationship

WARNINGS: break up talk, kinda suggestive (?)

NOTES: episode 3028 of hua should update LOTC but posts something random instead, but it's jakes bday so free pass ig

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

heyyyyyyy.... jake making you squirt............<3 *dies*

You have killed me, thank you.

Early

Jake Lockley x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: Pet names, p in v sex, reader thinking they need to pee for a sec, cream pie, squirting, Jake talking about him and Steven sharing their dirty thoughts, kissing, overuse of italics, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 781

Jake kisses you messily. His chest pressed up against your back, your head turned to the side so your lips could meet. 

He’d accidentally woken you up with his mouth on your neck and erection against your ass, and now his cock was buried inside while his fingers played with your clit. 

His thrusts shallowly, slow and lazy, but you can feel the strain of his muscles, how hard he is holding himself back. 

He licks into your mouth, hot and messy. Half words and sweet praises escaping his lips. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hand grabbing hold of your waist for a second as he rolls his hips, before he goes back to stroking your bundle of nerves. 

His fingers are slippery from your wetness, his forefinger rubbing against you, while he slides his others further down every so often to feel how stretched wide you are, how his length slides in and out. 

Heat twists and throbs in your stomach, the sound of his slow thrusts echoing around the room as your slick coats his cock.

“Jake…” You mutter, pressing back a little firmer against his precise rocks. You’re wide awake now, even though it’s only just starting to grow light. 

“Hmm?” He groans, low and in his chest. The sound rumbling along your skin. “What is it, amor?” His voice rises at the end as the head of his cock rubs wonderfully inside and he wriggles closer. Lightly, he pushes his right leg between yours and bends it, forcing your own legs to move apart. 

You shiver, letting out a broken whine. 

“Fuck, is that nice?” He coos, biting his bottom lip before he kisses the shell of your ear. “Love it when you make that sound, love it.”

You nod rapidly. 

He nips at your pulse point, his fingers pressing a fraction harder as they drag across your clit. 

“I want to fuck you on Steven’s desk.” He breathes hard. His voice is strained, but there’s a little giddy edge to it you’ve come to recognise. The one that means he’s so horny he’s about to run his mouth without any real thought. 

“You’d let me fuck you on his desk, wouldn’t you?” He swallows, his breath is warm against your neck. “I’d spread out his books all over it, open them and then sit you right in the middle of all of them while I make you come.” He groans, his eyes rolling back a little. You don’t get a chance to answer him before he continues. “Then I’d take a photo of you all fucked out and send it to him… We talk about it sometimes.” He moans, his thrusts increase slightly, his hips smacking against your backside as his cock keeps rubbing wonderfully along your walls.

“You…” You bite down a moan, your head spinning, “You talk about it?” 

You can feel him nodding rapidly, “Then he’d fuck you in my car, in the backseat, get it all messy, you and the upholstery.” He groans. “As revenge.” 

Normally, part of you wants to point out that it’s not really revenge if both of them had agreed to it beforehand, but the logical part of your brain is too busy reveling in the feeling of him between your legs to form a coherent thought. 

“Does… does he take a picture as well?” You manage. 

“Fuck yes,” Jake mouths at your neck, dragging his teeth over your skin. “And we just keep sending photos to each other and then fucking you and making you come and-”

You don’t quite hear what he says after that. Pleasure tightens in your belly and pulses. But it’s deeper this time, makes you squirm hard and almost pull away. 

“Sorry,” you try to move away, but your body won’t stop trying to chase your orgasm. “I think I gotta pee.” 

“Oh fuck,” Jake’s moan overshadows your words. His eyes are glazed. “You don’t, it’s okay,” he kicks off the blankets and leans up a fraction, watching where his fingers stroke you. “It’s okay.” 

“Jake-”

“Trust me, let go.” He swallows thickly, as he focuses on continuously rubbing the tip of his cock against the same spot. 

And it all breaks at once. 

You come with a cry. Pleasure washing over you and bubbling up from the inside. Your thighs shake, your body straining under the weight of it, and it’s suddenly like a dam has broken. 

Jake groans headily as he sees you squirt and soak the sheets, some of it hits his fingers, and he shudders, swearing under his breath and panting out your name. 

He thrusts twice before he spasms and shakes, spilling himself inside you in a rush. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

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@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world  @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

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[bigtreefest]

Tangled Up

Pairing: Andy Barber x Soft!Dark Reader

Summary: Andy has no idea how he’s found himself so quickly tangled up in your web. And your basement…

Word count: 2,756

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, dark themes including but not limited to kidnapping and isolation, restraints and interrogation, noncon/dubcon, emotional manipulation and humiliation, forced and semi- dom/sub dynamics, kissing, smut, grinding and pussyjob, p in v unprotected sex, cum tasting, mentions of starvation, swears

A/N: I’m SO EXCITED for you all to read this! This reader is a certified feral loony and such a blast to think about. Made in collaboration with @brandycranby

Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!

Dividers by @ghoulbloggerrr

AU Masterlist | Bigtreefest Masterlist | Brandycranby Masterlist

Andy roused from a restless slumber fully confused and disoriented. His head was pounding, eyes crusty, hair matted to his forehead likely from a stress dream he couldn’t remember now, despite the way the cortisol still flowed through his bloodstream. Everything around him was unfamiliar, yet he’d memorized the barren surroundings in the couple days he’d been trapped in this basement. At least he thought it’d been a couple days. Time seemed irrelevant now.

He never thought it would happen so quickly, having been solitary for so much of his life. Before, being alone meant peace, but since the divorce, and a couple days with such few creature comforts, he realized that wasn’t the case.

He moved to run a hand over his face in thought, in an attempt to clear off his brow so he could focus a little better, but winced from the pull at his tender wrist. That’s right, the man with the goatee tied him up pretty tight. His back was slightly arched, shoulders digging in uncomfortably to the backrest of what he assumed to be a dining chair. His lower half was nearly numb from the worn cushion underneath him, tailbone growing sore. He attempted to adjust, just to remember his ankles were restrained, too which yanked him back down to the hard wood.

The hiss Andy let out mixed with the vague sounds of footsteps upstairs. It just barely made it through the soundproof walls, but was easily picked up through the deafening silence. That must’ve been what had woken him, they were coming. You were coming.

His body went stiff as a board at that, no longer groggy, but fully at attention. This would be the time to fight back. Maybe he could finally convince you to return him to his bachelor pad, to his life.

Andy sat in anxious anticipation. In seconds that felt like hours with the way his heart was in his throat, the door at the top of the steps cracked open, golden hour sunlight bouncing off of the drywall and towards his eyes through the double glass doors of his cell, the first non-fluorescent glow to hit him in eons. Andy had never been one to stop and admire the sunset, except maybe on vacations with Laurie, but now, he’d give anything for a glimpse of the sky. Because that would mean freedom. Freedom from this place that he still couldn’t quite understand that he found himself. It was gone too soon as the door clicked shut.

He watched as your bare feet padded down the steps, tantalizingly slow, revealing bare legs under a short, silk robe. Warm food steamed in a low-brimmed bowl that balanced on your hand, the other holding a glass of water with a straw. Your eyes were focused on the next step until you reached the bottom, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It was so beautiful, so blue, but so full of turmoil. You smiled, seeing him in all of his glory, finally in your house.

Your slow stalk towards him was diverted to the basement bathroom to grab a washcloth, before you resumed your walk to the airlock. As you made your way through the double doors, a smirk broadened your lips at the sight of Andy tied up in the center of the room. Unable to do anything but be at your mercy. You set the bowl of food and glass of water down beside his chair and sat sideways on his lap, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as your eyes roved over his face, taking stock of every detail. At your touch, Andy turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, causing your face to scrunch in disappointment.

“Andy, honey, let me clean you up.”

He moved just barely enough to shake his head as you lifted your other hand to his face, firmly guiding him to look towards you once more. He opened his eyes again to be met with a soft look.

“That’s better, now, isn’t it?”

You began to wipe off his eyes and forehead, doing your best to clean him up. Andy’s breath picked up as his lips parted.

“I want to go home.”

Your hands froze, just about to tousle his hair, cupping his beard instead. As your eyes bored into his, all Andy saw was deep, deranged darkness behind them.

“You are home, silly. How many times do I have to tell you that? I’m going to take such good care of you, but you just have to let me. The more you learn about how to be a good husband, the more freedoms I’ll allow you, hm? Now, how about some dinner?”

Andy’s eyebrows were furrowed in anger, disgust as he stared you down, pulling at his restraints until he realized it was better to avoid the rope burn that was developing. But you didn’t seem to be bothered by that at all, setting down the washcloth and swapping it for the bowl of food, no longer steaming, but still warm. He could tell it by the way the scent surrounded him, and he hated that he thought it actually smelled good.

As you resettled in his lap, Andy found himself looking in the bowl, seeing gravy, speckled with bright orange carrots and something green, over rice.

You nestled in close, putting together a spoonful of the food and clocking his curiosity.

“It’s beef stew. Curtis is nearly famous for it. So savory, so delicious, and packed with love for this very special Valentine’s occasion. It’s a real treat.”

He was confused by your evident excitement with the dish. Were you trying to sell this to him? Poison him? What was the point? Who was Curtis? And it was already Valentine’s Day? Where had the time gone?

You held a bite up to his mouth, eyes sparkling, but your eyebrows gathered when you were met with sealed lips.

“Open up, Andy. It’s good. You’ve got to eat. Don’t want those plush swimmer’s muscles wasting away. That would be a shame!”

The tone of your voice was almost as shiny as the lipgloss you wore, making Andy’s stomach turn more. You attempted to make another bite, a smaller one of just rice, and put it to his lips again.

“C’mon. Just a little. He worked so hard on it!”

Andy opened his mouth and scraped the grains off the spoon with his teeth, chewing slowly and swallowing them down. Carbs were good, maybe that could fuel him for a few more days like this, and keep him in your good graces. Your face softened in satisfaction to the way he acquiesced and you held up another spoonful, which he promptly refused. You shrugged and set the bowl down, this time straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck when you came back.

Your tone was congratulatory, yet nonchalant, “One bite! That’s progress. I’m sure I’ll have you eating out of my hand soon enough.”

Andy looked up at the ceiling. Anywhere but at you and the way your silk robe had parted where your legs had spread, teasing what little fabric lied underneath.

A grumble emerged from his lips. A mere mumble you were hoping you didn’t catch correctly, as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What was that?”

He directed his face towards you again, eyes sharp as his nose and jawline, a killing look almost.

“You’re sick.”

You threw your head back with a light laugh.

“Honey, I’m nothing of the sort. I just know what’s best for you, and that’s being here, with me.”

He shook his head, moving to gesture to the nearly empty room, only to be reminded of his restraints again.

“This? This….empty torture chamber!? This is what’s best for me? There’s nothing down here! It’s just some shitty IKEA rug over a concrete floor, blank walls, a mattress, and a prison bathroom!”

Your face flashed a hint of anger at his defiance before you steeled yourself quickly, replacing it with a look of concern.

“Well, there’s not much down here because I don’t want you hurting yourself, Andy pandy. You don’t know what’s best yet, I’m taking care of you. Once you learn how to behave, there’s no need for these precautions. You can have all sorts of trinkets and decorations eventually. And if you’re really good, maybe you can come upstairs and stay in bed with me.”

His jaw ticked at that. This wasn’t his home.

“I have a house. It has everything I need. People are looking for me! I’m sure it won’t be long.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and your head dropped to your chest, a low, dry laugh emanating from your throat before you shook your head and met his eyes that were full of faltering conviction.

“Andrew, no need to lie to me. We can be honest with each other.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet and dripping with feigned sympathy. “I know you live in a sad, lonely apartment. And that your name as Assistant District Attorney doesn’t get you as far as it once did. Especially with the way you fumbled into success on your last case.”

His nostrils flared with ire. He opened his mouth to respond, deny, but was met with your shushing finger.

“Let me finish. A little birdie told me that you’re going to be let go any day now, especially with the several days you haven’t shown up, without a single call! And then what are you to do? Wither in your bachelor pad, squandering your nice severance payments? It’s not like Laurie would jump to comfort you. But I would. So, be a good boy, and let me take it from here.”

Andy shuddered as you shuffled closer to him, his tight lips denying the kiss you pressed to them.

“Still gonna be difficult? We can move to dessert. I know you hardly had any dinner, but let me give you a taste of how sweet things could be for you, old man. Just relax and sit back.”

Behind his back, Andy’s hands gathered into fists and his teeth clenched together. He had a feeling what your agenda was, and it was solidified by what he saw as you shrugged the pink robe off of your shoulders. Underneath it lied a white, lacy teddy, adorned with small pink hearts all over. So darling and sweet, and innocent. It was nauseating, the image coming together in front of him. The honey that poured from your mouth and hugged the curves of your body, soured by your true intentions that bubbled below the surface.

You tentatively ground your hips in a circle over the dress slacks that he still wore, pleased as he struggled to contain a moan. No matter how much Andy tried to deny it, his body was betraying him, blood rushing south, gaze sucked into the sight of your breasts being pushed up near his face by the flimsy lace.

Your pleased expression couldn’t be hidden either as you continued to hump against him, your hands moving to rub up and down his chest through his dress shirt which was no longer pristine and pressed. As you smoothed some of the wrinkles, you felt the broad expanse of what was underneath.

With a simmering eagerness, you began to undo the buttons painstakingly slow, revealing his faded undershirt. Your fingertips gently, teasingly grazed over the ridges of his pecs, thumbs flicking his nipples, gracing your ears with a low growl from his throat. You bit your bottom lip in excitement at what you were able to pull from him already, leaning in to press a soft, rewarding kiss to the straining muscles of his neck. He really was so beautiful like this, so needy already.

His dick was pressing against your thigh almost insistently with every fluid motion you were making to brush over it, mirroring the growing impatience you felt rising within your belly. Without wasting another second, you scooted back to undo the zipper of Andy’s dress pants and reached your hand in, his cock immediately standing at attention, precum already leaking from the angry red tip.

You swiped it up with your finger and sucked it off between your lips, taking pride in the way Andy’s breaths continued to pick up.

Genuine elation was filling you at that. “Mmm, tastes so good. Gonna give me more?”

His pupils went wide and dark, nearly as much as yours. You could tell his protests were wavering, despite the wispy denial spilling past his lips.

“N-no. Stop. I-I don’t want this.”

Your hand lowered again to cup his cock against the lace that covered your pussy, hips grinding up and down his length. The pressure and pleasure was almost dizzying with how you could feel the ridge of the head nudge your clit. The thin lace was quickly becoming soaked.

As you looked up at Andy, his face was turned downward and to the side again, so your brought your hand up to his hold his jaw, lovingly brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek. You could tell he was biting the inside of his mouth to refrain from making any more noise, and you simply couldn’t have that.

You placed your forehead against his, speaking in the hot and humid air.

“I don’t believe you. I think you want more.”

You reached your fingertips under the gusset and pulled it to the side, revealing your bare, slick pussy, and pressed in closer, ground faster, watching as his cock was hugged between the lips. When your eyes flickered up to his again, his long eyelashes were brushing against his cheeks, gaze glued to the slick sight before him. It was the source of both his pleasure and his torture, and he evidently couldn’t get enough from the way his hips bucked into yours.

A wry grin graced your face as you took him in. A blush crept up his neck, and painted the tips of his ears. It was everything you wanted to see, but still not enough. You needed him to fully submit. To give in to just the beginning of the pleasure you knew you could give him. In your bounces over his lap, you inched yourself higher, his tip catching your entrance and slipping in with a delicious stretch, finally drawing a moan from the grumpy, stoic man.

It was all too much, all at once. The wet, tight warmth surrounding was him better than anything he’d felt in years. It only took a couple more bounces of your ass against his thighs, slaps muffled by his dress pants, for you to feel his dick twitch. You pulled him out just in time for his thick spend to coat your lower torsos, painting the innocent white material in sin. Andy whimpered, his orgasm torn from his grasp as you rubbed your clit to tip over the edge with him, the sight and sounds driving you towards bliss.

Drained to near exhaustion, he flopped forward as far as the restraints would allow him, straining every part of his body as it jerked and tensed beyond his will. His chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath, eyes squeezed shut in a whirl of feelings and emotions. Shame, fear, relief, confusion.

You giggled triumphantly at the scene, smiling with fulfillment of the first step of everything you wanted from Andy. You brought your lips to his forehead and placed a kiss, speaking softly against his dewy skin.

“See? I think that was really nice for both of us.”

You lingered there for a second, breathing in his scent.

“Jake will be down in a little bit with a change of clothes and to help you freshen up.”

You pushed yourself up out of his lap. Andy sat there stunned, still in shock with his head limp and facing the floor. As you gathered your robe and shrugged it on, you made your way to the airlock and entered the code to leave his room, turning back for one final look. Andy just barely glared at you through those long lashes, resenting the sweet smile you gave him once again, but the cloudiness penetrating his mind made him think it was maybe a little less so than he did an hour ago. You waved teasingly with your fingertips before gracing him with your parting words.

“Welcome home, Andrew. And happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bonus A/N: who fed us after midnight? Because we’ve become gremlins😈

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[mgparker]

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour. 

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you. 

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders. 

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you. 

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about. 

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look. 

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone. 

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly. 

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh. 

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon. 

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met. 

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before. 

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again. 

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table. 

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.  

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits. 

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question. 

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure. 

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.” 

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time. 

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes. 

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it. 

Not that you wanted to. 

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment-- 

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours. 

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed. 

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way. 

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week. 

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace. 

Acceptance. 

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch. 

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys. 

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy. 

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you. 

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god. 

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar. 

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity. 

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you. 

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it. 

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back. 

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you. 

“What does that even mean?” You groaned. 

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under. 

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly. 

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all. 

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well. 

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

[hanasnx]

moves.

MINORS DNI 18+

JAKE PERALTA can't believe his stroke of good luck. Of pure, unadulterated good luck. He had entered the crime scene with you mere moments ago and after a heated exchange of bouncing off of each other with observations— your voices gradually raising at the same level as you near the climax of the conversation— you'd given him the look. Focused eyes watching him through your brows, the curl of your parted lips, panting through them. How you assessed him, scanned his figure like he was edible, sharing a silent moment with him as you calculate exactly what you wanna do to him. Next thing he knew you were excusing you and him saying you'd be going out for coffee, when you'd pulled him into the nearest cleaning closet of the apartment complex that wasn't crawling with cops. Now he's balls deep inside you, clothes having hastily been moved aside to accommodate it.

"Jakey," you whine, dragging out the word. He loves it when you call him that. Gets him all hot and bothered, afraid he'd give you whatever you asked for when you invoke that pretty petname off those pretty lips. "you fuck me so good..."

His teeth bite hard into the skin past his lips, brows creased in concentration so as not to bust to early. It's a quickie, a fucking hot one, but he's still got manners. The sound of your voice has his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he's fucking you from the back, big hands on your hips to keep pulling you back onto his cock while you brace on the wall. A brief moan hums through his nose as he directs you closer to him, talking shit in your ear, "Do I fuck you good? Yeah? Yeah, baby? 'I fuck you good?" breathless, and dizzy with pleasure, he can't believe someone like you is this into him.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Got My Mind Set On You - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: I know I said fluff, but somehow I got to spicy stuff instead. Oops.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: suggested smut.

word count: 1.7k

Jake Seresin leaned casually against the rustic exposed wooden beam of the dimly lit bar, his gaze fixed on you as you shared a moment of laughter with your friends across the room. With the air of someone who knew they were being watched, he flicked another dart effortlessly towards the board, the satisfying thud of it hitting the bullseye punctuating the room. He took a slow sip of his beer, the corner of his lips curling into a self-assured smirk as his friends marveled at his accuracy.

Javy couldn't help but prod at Jake's seemingly supernatural dart-throwing abilities. "How do you do it, man? You never even look at the board."

Jake chuckled, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Photographic memory, my friend. I've got every angle mapped out up here," he said with a grin, never once breaking his gaze from you.

Bradley, ever the skeptic, scoffed from the sidelines. "Oh, please. Anyone can get lucky tossing darts at a board."

A challenge hung heavy in the air as Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Care to put that theory to the test, Bradshaw?"

Bradley, never one to back down, accepted with a lazy smirk. "Fine. But don't blame me if your girl decides she wants a more skilled pilot."

"Bring it on," Jake replied, his confidence unwavering.

With practiced ease, Bradley sent his first dart flying, hitting the bullseye just as he predicted. Jake's expression remained cool, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes as Bradley repeated the feat with his second shot. Bullseye again.

Jake's smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising his pint glass towards the dartboard. "You can't do it a third time."

Bradley's competitive spirit flared as he confidently launched his final dart, only to miss the mark by a fraction of an inch. He turned to Jake, a hint of defiance in his eyes as he admitted defeat.

Jake couldn't resist a playful jab. "Not quite perfect, Bradley."

But any teasing was forgotten as you appeared beside him, your touch warm on his shoulder. "Hey there, sugar," Jake greeted you with a smile. "See me get a perfect streak?" Jake purposefully drawled out the word ‘perfect’, resulting in a dramatic eyeroll from Bradley. 

Jake's smile softened as he wrapped an arm around you, his gaze never straying far from yours. You grinned as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you spoke. “Sure did, honey. You did great!”, you gushed.

“I am great, darlin’, you know that.”

Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes before downing the rest of his beer. With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head, holding his empty glass up to you and the others before speaking.

“Anyone down for another round? I’ll buy.”

You chuckled at Bradley's offer, exchanging knowing glances with Jake before nodding in agreement. "I could go for another," you said with a grin, feeling Jake's arm tighten slightly around your waist.

“Sure, thanks man,” Jake started, handing Bradley his empty glass, “After, why don’t we rematch? We can switch to the pool table, if you guys would rather, that way you might actually have a chance at beating me.”

Bradley scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, you’re on.”

Javy, always up for a good time, eagerly agreed. "I'm in. Let's see if lightning strikes twice for old Bradshaw here."

Bradley shot Javy a mock glare before laughing, his competitive streak undeterred. "We'll see about that," he retorted, already heading towards the bar to order everyone’s drinks.

As Bradley disappeared into the crowd, you leaned into Jake's side, relishing in the warmth of his presence. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking glasses enveloped you, creating a comforting backdrop to the evening.

"You know, I think Bradley's just jealous," you whispered teasingly, tilting your head up to meet Jake's gaze.

Jake chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Can you blame him?" he replied, his voice low and playful. "After all, he's got to compete with the best."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, swatting his chest playfully. "Smooth talker," you teased, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Besides all that, I’ve got the best girl, so really, poor Bradley didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Jake whispered as he leaned into your ear, his green eyes fixed on yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“The best girl, huh?” You mused, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one for me.”

“Mhmm,” Jake hummed as he gave you a playful tap on the nose with his index finger. “You better get used to it, honey.”

As you all rounded the pool table, gathering into your teams, Bradley furrowed his brow as he gestured to you and Jake as Jake kept you close to him for his team.

“Oh no you don’t loverboy.” Bradley chided, shaking his head, “She’s on my team. Together you two’ll just end up getting handsy on the pool table and make us all lose our lunch.”

“He’s got a point there, don’t he?” Jake shrugged as he conceded, letting go of his protective, loving grip on your waist.

You watched as Bradley lined up to take his shot. Observing his form carefully, you tried to make mental notes so you could match his game - you weren’t the greatest at pool, Jake usually used teaching you as an excuse to put his hands all over you, not that you complained. It just resulted in some incredibly short lessons in pool, and some playful sessions in the bed of his Ford F-150. 

Bradley leaned in close to your ear, whispering softly as he came up with a game strategy. “How well can you accidentally distract Jake?”

“Oh, easy,” you responded with confidence, nodding your head slightly as your gaze fixated on Jake, who was lining his pool cue up for his turn.

“Perfect, do your thing.”

You sipped your cocktail and fiddled with the straw, your lips encircling the tip in a way that you knew Jake would interpret as suggestive. Sure enough, as soon as Jake looked up at you, sea-green eyes locked in a gaze at your mouth as it played with the end of your straw, he missed his shot, causing the cue ball to bounce off the edge of the table, not striking anything in its path. Jake straightened his posture, raising an eyebrow at you as you set your glass down to take your own shot. Bradley smirked from behind his beer bottle, admiring your technique for riling Jake up better than any amount of trash talk ever could.

During Jake’s next turn, you shoved your glass into Bradley’s open hand, before fiddling and unbuttoning the top two buttons of your plaid shirt, exposing just enough cleavage to have Jake’s mind wandering. Once again, as soon as Jake caught a glimpse of you, he missed his shot, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as Javy joked about him being off his game.

“I’m not off my game. Everyone has one off game.”

“Just admit it, Jake, you’re not as good at pool as they are. Bradley’s got you beat.”

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes again, before leaning over to take his next shot, trying to follow up after you sink one of the balls into the pocket, eliciting a high-five and a cheer from Bradley. As the game progressed, Jake caught on to your little game. His cheeks blushed when you whispered what you wanted him to do to you later that evening, he had to clear his throat to cover the involuntary moan that threatened to escape his mouth when your hand caressed his bicep, and he had to position himself carefully behind the pool table while he tried to focus his mind on anything other than the mental image you put in his head when you described what kind of underwear you were wearing under your skirt. 

After losing another round, Jake felt a simmering frustration bubbling beneath his skin, an insistent urge gnawing at him with every passing moment. He clenched his jaw, struggling to rein in the primal desires coursing through him. All he could think about was laying you down on the smooth surface of the pool table, indulging in the raw passion that pulsed between you. But he knew he couldn't act on those impulses, not here, not now.

Instead, he tossed the pool cue down with an uncharacteristic huff, the weight of his competitive nature hanging heavy in the air. His typically composed demeanor faltered, a rare glimpse of vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he turned away. You exchanged a knowing glance with Bradley, silently acknowledging the tension that hung between you all, before following Jake's retreating figure outside.

The night air enveloped you like a thick blanket as you stepped out of the dimly lit bar, the humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. Concern etched across your features, you approached Jake cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

"Jake?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you closed the distance between you.

"Mhmm?" His response was gruff, his body tense as he leaned against the side of his truck, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly, furrowing your brow with worry. "I wasn’t trying to be a dick—Bradley and I just thought it’d be funny if I, you know, distracted you a little."

Jake chuckled, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to face you. "I'm not mad."

"You aren’t?" Relief flooded through you, easing the tension in your shoulders.

"Of course not," he reassured you, his gaze softening as he reached out to pull you into his embrace. "I mean, you got me good, I’ll give you that."

"I did?" A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding.

"Sure did, Sugar." Jake's smirk was equal parts wicked and enticing, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But now it’s my turn to get you back." His words hung in the air like a promise, igniting a fire in your veins as you met his gaze with a playful challenge of your own.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Moon boys after NNN

Moon Knight system x fem!reader

Summary: The boys barely survived the NNN challenge and december has arrived.

Can be seen as a sequel to -> [X]

CW/triggers: NSFW, smut, fingering, oral (m! + f! receiving), spanking, cum eating, p in v, brat taming(?), thanksgiving mentioned. Let me know if I missed some!

A/n: I'll be sent straight to prison for this. Life sentence into an asylum wearing a straitjacket aswell.

December finally arrived, November is no more, meaning you can get comfortable while it's snowing outside, christmas feeling everywhere, get some hot chocolate to enjoy and...

The boys.

Last month was a bit entertaining. For you atleast. But the boys? Not so much. Not at all.

Jake was the only one who was acting normal, whistling and acting all professional.

Steven had some days where he acted like being seconds away from snapping, even biting his fingernails to suppress his needs.

Marc wasn't afraid of staring you down like you were his next prey he's going to chase down and enjoy for himself. Seeing him act like that made you afraid of even saying one word or make a remark about his behavior, fearing he might just pounce on you.

You haven't talked to the boys yet, it was only 4 AM and you didn't want to disrupt their sleep if they even were sleeping and not plotting their revenge on you.

It was only seconds after you came back from a raid on the fridge that you heard a knock on your door.

"Mi amor?"

You froze. It was Jake.

"Don't try to hide, you're not sleeping, we heard you in the kitchen." Jake chuckled, before he slowly opened the door, poking his head inside. "Oh hey, there you are." he grinned.

*Who's gettin' her first, guys?*

*Jake.*

"Jake? Why are you awake? It's 4 AM."

Jake closed the door behind him and slowly walked towards you. "Well," he shrugged "thought we will start the day early, eh? Maybe a nice wake up call?"

He sat down at the edge of your bed while you eyed him with tiredness and confusion.

"Alright hermosa, why don't you bend over my knees?" he patted them invitingly, grinning like the cheshire cat.

You swallowed, obediently getting up to bend over his knees. You knew you're in trouble now.

"So," he started, running his hand over your butt, giving each cheek a squeeze. "you had one month of just having yourself." he spanked you lightly. "But you know what?" he leaned down. "Steven, Marc and I are so pent up rightnow." he said, giving another spank, harder this time.

"You could have said something!" you gasped.

Jakes hand slipped underneath your clothes, squeezing your thigh. "Oh you didn't notice us? How the other two were acting?"

"I'm sorry!"

Jake chuckled, his hand found it's way to your hole, finding it already wet. "Look at that, you're wet! Couldn't wait either, hm?" he teased, his fingers probing into you and pushing two inside.

"F-where are the other two?" you half moaned, half gasped.

Jake thrusted his fingers in and out of you. "Don't worry, they will get their share too." he undressed your lower half, spreading your legs for better access while finger fucking you. His other hand moved to stroke his hardening cock through his pants, this time Jake isn't being as patient now that he's got you.

He pulled his semi-hard cock out, stroking himself a few times before looking down at you. "Why don't you go ahead and give me a head start?" he asked gently, but there was a demand in his tone that couldn't been overheard.

Leaning in, you licked the underside of his shaft, moving upwards while Jake finger fucked you faster, he was already starting to leak, you licked the tip, gathering the precum on your tongue before heading in, taking his throbbing cock into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

It caused Jake's leg to twitch at the sudden warmth of your mouth and your tongue magic.

"Fuck," he threw his head back, his hand cradling your head "you have no idea how good that feels after so long."

Your moans around him made him shudder at the pleasure. His thumb moved to rub your clit, making you almost drool all over his cock before his fingers dipped back into your needy pussy, curling them just right to make you arch your back.

Jake pushed your head down further on his cock, urging you to take more of him. He felt his control slipping, his hips rocked gently as he held you captive on his cock with his fingers stuffing your needy pussy.

Your eyes rolled back when Jake curled his fingers and hit a sweet spot. His breathing was getting heavier, the thrusts of his fingers harder and his cock throbbed inside your mouth.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting close." Jake groaned, guiding your head faster. Jake pulled his fingers out of you, rubbing your clit in fast circles and pressing down, only to dive his fingers back into your cunt, making you moan uncontrollably around his cock, your teeth grazing his shaft which made him almost cum but he held himself back.

"Fuck, -ah- keep going sweetie." He grunted.

You felt his fingers curl inside you again, making you see stars when finally you coated his fingers in your juices. Jake didn't hesistate, using his free hand to join his other on your head, making you gag multiple times as Jake just used you like a doll.

Finally, when he came down your throat, he came hard, holding you in place while you obediently swallowed his load and catching his breath.

"You're okay down there, princesa?" Jake asked, gently pulling you off of his softening cock and cradling your face. "Phew, I'm afraid I enjoyed that way too much." he chuckled softly, moving in to kiss your forehead.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" Jake cooed, but he knew you're far from done.

He stood up, leaving you sitting on the bed. Jake stopped with his hand on the door handle, turning around to face you. But it wasn't Jake anymore.

"Hi there, honey. Missed me?"

Your ears perched up. "Marc?"

"Mhm."

You bit your lip. "You're going to-?"

He made his way over, smirking. "What? Thought after Jake you'd be done? No-ooou, not gonna happen." he flipped you over, making you bend over the bed and pushed you up on your knees.

Marc's eyes roamed over your body, landing on your pussy seeing the wetness from Jake's handiwork still there.

His hands roamed your back, waist and hips before landing on your butt, squeezing firmly. "Fuck you had really no idea what you made us go through?" he asked, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to know.

"You could have stopped anytime, you know?"

"Yeah but you challenged us. And we don't shy away from a good challenge when we know what's our reward going to be."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Geez."

"Baby it's going to be like thanksgiving for you. But you're the turkey getting stuffed." He slapped your cheek, marking it up with a faint handprint.

"Who's doing the stuffing?" you teased.

Marc's eyebrows shot up, he leaned down until his lips brushed your ear. "Oh honey. You're about to get stuffed up so good and in the end get devoured."

He ground himself against your ass, you could feel his soft cock hardening once more. The way his clothed shaft rubbed against you just right made you go all fuzzy.

"Fuck, sweetheart, sorry but I can't fucking wait." Marc rasped, quickly pulling his pants down, stroking himself until he was fully hard again and pressed the tip against your still wet pussy. He pushed inside in one swift thrust until he was fully sheathed.

You gasped at his thickness entering you so suddenly.

"F-f-fuck, I missed this so much." his eyes rolled back into his skull at finally feeling you again after so long.

His hand moved to your spine, encouraging you to arch your back for better access. He set a steady pace, increasing it step by step.

Marc couldn't keep his control up for long though, your insides felt like heaven to him, he don't want to cum, he wants to keep pounding into you until you're a broken mess.

But his thrusting increased heavily, the grip on your hips thightened with almost every thrust before he released them to slow his thrusts, grinding his hips slowly against you to regain his control.

"Mmh, fuck you just feel so fucking good." He bit his lip hard enough to almost make it bleed while looking down at you.

Your pussy at this point was so slippy, Marc nearly thought he'd broke your insides somehow. But he loved the feeling.

"Listen if you wanna cum, you better do it now before I choose to fuck this pussy into oblivion." he threatened, squeezing your ass cheeks firmly while he was hammering into you, desperate for his release.

Your poor pussy couldn't take any more of this, your orgasm hit you so hard you were on the verge of passing out.

"Oh god- oh fuck!" Marc groaned deeply, his cock throbbing inside you before he released his cum into you.

Panting, Marc pulled out, running a hand through his hair and face and sitting down next to you on the bed.

You looked like a fucked out mess and Steven didn't even had his round with you.

"Okay I need a drink. Need one too?" He breathed out.

You huffed, your mind was as blank as it could possible be. "Later." you smiled.

Marc nodded, getting up to leave your room to get a drink while you were still in the same position - ass pushed up on your knees, overstimulated with Marc's cum leaking out of you and nearly falling asleep.

After Marc had his ice cold refreshment, he made his way back to your room, expecting you to be out cold.

But you're not out cold yet, only about to when he entered again, padding softly over to you and running his warm hand soothingly over your back.

"Marc?"

"Hiya, love." Steven introduced himself lovingly despite his inner need to to devour you.

Steven gently turned you around on your back, seeing your messy face and getting a good view of your fucked out pussy. Beautiful.

"Gonna clean you up now, yeah?" he simply said, kneeling down between your legs.

Before you could question him, he dived his head in and latched his greedy mouth onto your pussy, not caring about slurping up Marc's load aswell.

"God, I couldn't wait to get my mouth back to your cunt, love." he moaned around you, the vibrations making you lose it despite already having had two orgasms.

Steven's tongue dipped into you all the way, already raising up your pleasure once more. Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers ran through his curls while Steven ate you up like he was seconds away from starving.

That's what Marc meant by getting devoured like you were some turkey getting served on thanksgiving. Marc and Jake only did the stuffing, now Steven is going to devour their meal.

Steven felt himself getting hard, his hand slipped inside his pants to jerk off while devouring you.

Normally Steven was able to eat you out without jerking off, but now, after that stupid challenge it was impossible for him not to.

He loved loved the way you tugged on his hair everytime he hit a spot with his tongue, loving how desperate you were for another orgasm.

While Steven continued his tongue swirling on you, you felt the familiar knot build up, your moans getting needy, letting Steven know you're close.

But he was close too by the time you were, his hand had squeezed around his girth to mimic your pussy before he suddenly stood up, looking down at you with his mouth glistening in your juices and his curls a mess.

"You taste heavenly, love. So, so delicious. But I need t' feel you 'round me."

His cock was already free, leaking precum as he positioned himself between your legs.

Needy Steven speared your pussy on his cock right away, desperate to feel your tightness around him.

"Oh god, fuck- almost forgot how your cunt's feelin'!" he grunted, his hips slamming into yours, getting lost in the feeling.

Your hips bucked into him, chasing your imminent orgasm once more, Steven's fingers digged into your flesh, his cock was ready to explode inside you.

Both of you shared a mutual orgasm, your pussy clamped down just as he released his load into you.

After Steven pulled out, he collapsed down on the bed beside you. Both of you panting from the intense experience.

"Holy shit," Steven panted. "love, now if you know what's good f' you, you better not make us accept some stupid no sex challenge."

You laughed.

"Oi, 'm serious. You were extremely lucky Marc and I didn't lash out on you."

"Yeah I know." you smacked his shoulder playfully.

"We're definitely not made for those challenges."

You giggled. "Mhm, all three of you belong into horny jail."

Steven glared at you, a dirty smirk on his face.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 15

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: Bad parents, Body shaming, Talk of abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 14 -- Part 16

Series Masterlist

"It's taken a longer than it should've, but I think we've got a solid plan here," Clay sighs. "Can't say everything's been accounted for 'cause that's a fool's errand, but we've covered just about everything we feasibly can."

"Okay," Jake nods. "Just let me know where and when to press the button. I'll make sure Sharky and I are packed and ready to go."

"How much of this plan have you told her?"

Jake sighs, "not...not a damn thing. She knows you and I are working on keeping Sarah and Jadah safe. That's it's."

Clay raises an eyebrow. "You might wanna get to talkin' to her, young man. Don't wanna undo months' worth of trust building."

"I know," Jake hangs his head. "It's just not an easy conversation to have."

"Lookin' at our timeline, you're gonna wanna start that conversation sooner, rather than later."

Jake nods, trying to think how best to approach the subject. The two of you have been getting along so well, you've really been coming out of your shell. Hurting you is the last thing in the world that he wants right now.

You say goodbye to Clay as he heads out. He always makes sure to thank you for the food and for taking care of Jake before he leaves. Honestly, you can understand why Jake is so loyal to the guy; he looks out for his people. Plus, like Jake, he respects your space. He always stays out of the kitchen unless given permission and he never even looks at the door to the master suite. It wouldn't surprise you if Jake thought of Clay as a father figure, he's a decent role model. Then again, your standards on that front are pretty low.

Jake comes out of his room, formerly the home theater, and hesitates.

"What's wrong?" you coax. "Bad news?"

"No...really, well, potentially really good news, depending on a few things. A number of which I really should've talked about to you before but I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to scare you or get your hopes up or any---"

He's cut off by your finger on his lips and your gentle "shh. You're rambling, Jake."

Jake's heart flutters at your touch, but more so at your behavior. It wasn't that long ago you were too scared to correct him on anything, now you're actively interrupting his ramblings with a gentle touch and no fear of him.

You give Jake a soft smile as your cheeks warm. You've learned to recognize his heart eyes. It's still difficult to believe he feels that way about you, but for months he's backed up his words with action.

"So, um...you know how I've been working with Clay?"

"Yes, he's still your boss."

"Umm...he's been...he and the team, we've been...working on plans to keep my sister and her daughter safe."

You give him a confused look. "I thought that's what the marriage was for."

"It is," Jake nods. "But this is a plan for keeping them safe without us having to be married." Jake immediately recognizes his mistake when he sees your features crumple. "Wait, wait, wait! Please let me finish!"

You don't hear what he's saying. All you can hear is your blood rushing. He's going to leave you. He never really wanted you. It was just convenience and proximity. None of it was real and you're furious with yourself for thinking it just might be.

"Sharky! Sharky, come back to me, please!" Jake grabs your shoulders and pleads.

You look at him, tears pouring. "You don't want me?"

"I do! I do want you, Sharky! That's the reason it's taken so long to get the plan worked out. I couldn't stand the idea of leaving you behind!"

"How...I don't...I want to trust you," you whisper.

Jake gets a determined look in his eyes. He gently moves you to the door of his room. You tense, just enough for him to feel it, and he hates himself for not being more careful with his words.

"Wait here for just a minute, please?" he begs.

You give him a small nod and he runs into the room.

You've never actually seen what Jake's done to the room. Clearly the giant screen makes for a great computer monitor. There's a lot of windows open that you're not sure what they are. What little you can see of the desktop looks to be a marine life photo, probably the default. It looks like he's got the massive recliners rearranged so that there's one for working at his computer, one for a bed, and the two others for conversation, likely with Clay. He's clearly made efficient use of the space.

"Aha!" A cheer from Jake startles you out of your thoughts. He runs over to you, a small box in his hand. "I'd bought this for you, for after we got out of here, when we weren't under the thumb of our parents."

He drops to one knee and opens the box, revealing a gold hammerhead shark ring. "I was going to save it to ask you to marry me when things had settled down. I even made sure to get a hammerhead shark because they travel in groups and I wanted to remind you that you don't have to be alone anymore!"

You bring your hands to your face and let out a small sob.

"I know...I know we haven't known each other long," Jake admits. "But I've never met anyone so wonderful as you. So kind, strong, understanding, able to put up with my...me-ness. I want to be with you, without the pressure from others pushing us together. I want to be together because we want to be together."

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you cry. He swears his heart stops. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I'll understand if you want to take the ring back. But, if you're willing to...to forgive me, I'd love to be with you."

Jake jumps up and hugs you. "Oh god, you scared me! I thought you were sorry because you didn't feel the same!"

"Just...just do me a favor and hold onto it? If my parents catch me wearing it they'll...It won't be good."

"I'll make sure they never find it," he promises. "Can...can I kiss you?"

"I'd like that," you giggle.

And you really do enjoy Jake's kisses. Your experience with kisses is limited but Jake's are, by far, the best you've ever had. They're earnest, exciting, just like him. You're also able to enjoy them because, time and time again, he's proven he's willing to stop whenever you need him to.

This time, though, you think you're ready.

You break away from his kisses. "Jake, would you...would you be willing to um...my bedroom?"

"Are you sure?"

You nod and lead him to the master suite, smiling.

Naturally, that's when your mother bursts in to the penthouse.

"As you can see, we need this space more open," she's telling the man she brought with her. "There's just no room for all the guests!"

You and Jake quickly separate.

"Mother? What...what's going on?"

"I can't say I'm surprised I'm not interrupting anything," she rolls her eyes. "We've got to get this place ready for hosting parties. Now that you and Jake are the face of the families, you have to start hosting parties. This penthouse was meant for family meetings more than anything. Gus here is going to be in charge of the construction!"

"You...you couldn't give us a heads up?" Jake shakes his head.

"Why would I need to do that? You know it's not your names on the deed." She turns to Gus, "kids! So ungrateful!" Gus gives you and Jake a sympathetic smile but nods along with your mother. You can't blame him. Business is business and she's not wrong about who actually owns this place.

"Looking over the layout for the place, we could easily open the place up more by taking out the home theater section," he offers. "We can move the theater system elsewhere."

"What? No!" your mother argues. "Just get rid of the kitchen. Parties are meant to be catered and without a kitchen it'll be easier for her to lose some weight."

"Mother, please! Not the kitchen!" you cry.

"Seriously, why are you cutting out her...her best skill? Even you know she's a great cook!" Jake adds, almost giving away that the kitchen was your safe space.

"Would you be interested in a mini-kitchen?" Gus asks Carol. "There's a lot of...inner workings, like water and heat lines, that would be easier to repurpose than get rid of."

"Ugh, only the smallest of kitchenette areas so the caterers have access to water sources or whatever," she rolls her eyes. "Now let's talk about how to keep that kitchenette out of sight while still opening the floor space."

She walks towards the kitchen, Gus following, when Jake whispers, "can I move my clothes into your closet?"

Your eyes widen at the realization you might be caught not sharing a bed. "Yes!" you whisper. "Move as fast as you can. I'll block her view of the hall."

"Thank you!" he gives you a peck on the cheek before running off.

It takes a little finagling on your part, but Jake manages to get his stuff moved over without your mother noticing. The entire time you hear her talking about all the "wastes of space" in the kitchen. Every time Gus brings up questions about living space they're dismissed as not important, just like you are.

No, like you were. You're important to Jake. He's made that clear. Jake's never purposefully hurt you. You've only known each other for 7 months, but in that time, he's done more for you than anyone else in your life. He's shown you what it's like to be important to someone, dear to someone.

There's an anger and resentment you can't remember feeling before. You've gotten a taste of something better, and he's offering a chance to escape.

When Carol and Gus finally leave, Jake turns to you, expecting to see tears, ready to reassure you with hugs and kisses. Instead you take his hands and look him in the eye.

"When do we leave and what do you need me to do?"

Part 14 -- Part 16

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @embarrasingmf; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @missaprilt23; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63; @watermelonslut

[arcane-vagabond]

Fortune and Glory Masterlist

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The year is 1943, and the Nazis are searching for anything that will win them the war. Professor Jake Seresin is a popular instructor at North Island University, a prestigious school that employs only the best and produces some of the most qualified students in their fields. Jake isn't only known for his abilities in the classroom, and when his long time friend, Bob Floyd, interrupts a lecture stammering about a staff and the book of Exodus, Jake knows he's about to get in way over his head. Jake knows his fair share of Biblical lore, but he knows just the person to help him on this quest to stop the Germans from achieving their goal of taking over the world. (Indiana Jones!AU)

Series Content Warning: Twisting of Biblical lore that is in line with whatever the hell Indiana Jones always does, References to the Bible and the book of Exodus, References to Indiana Jones probably, Probably obvious moments of me making shit up as I go. Look, this is an Indiana Jones AU, if you've seen the movies, you'll know what to expect. Also, Jake Seresin is for sure a warning in this. Each chapter will have it's own individual warnings.

This series and anything related to it will be tagged as "Fortune and Glory" and "F&G"

Meet our heroine!

A/N: Yeah, I know I said like not even a week ago that I'm quitting fanfic, but I was having a menty B and now that I'm fine and my friends have bullied me into it, I've changed my mind. Die mad about it actually.

Main Masterlist || Blog Rules || Writing Rules

Series;

Prologue (Coming Soon)

Drabbles;

Nothing to see here yet...

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #12: The Ring

prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist | next

Summary: Were you ever really here? Or simply a spectre? Marc and Jake try, in their own ways, to keep you

Pairing this chapter: Jake x f!reader, Marc x f!reader, Steven is mentioned

Word count: 1.3k

Content: romance, angst, remember this is a ghost story dealing with intense themes and details of death, dying and burial, grief, language, crying

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

PREVIOUSLY on Spectre…

"I'm sorry," Jake whispered. "I'm supposed to protect you."

"You're sorry, I'm sorry, it doesn't change anything. I just don't want to go back to the dark."

"The darkness fears me. It won't touch you again."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You and Jake stayed up the rest of the night, sitting by the window, holding one another under a Halloween moon’s glow and quietly talking. You told him everything you’d learned from Ms. Marjorie, how she was apparently a witch who had cast a spell that saved your life.

Jake hoped she would know who tried to kill you, but she said she did not. This vexed him. You longed to see a smile return to his face, to hear a joke, but he was clearly not entirely himself. The need for revenge burned inside him. He even asked Khonshu for help. Surely, if anyone deserved the Fist of Vengeance, it was the monster who took you away from them.

But Khonshu would not speak, anymore than he did before, when he said your journey was beyond his purview. Once he was away from you, Jake raged at the old god, making demands, but to no avail.

Steven found you unboxing your new, overnighted clothes and the two of you had fun with an impromptu fashion show before tossing everything into the washing machine.

The day of November the 1st was otherwise uneventful. You and Steven made dinner and decided to play a board game. He didn’t bring up Ms. Marjorie, your murder, or anything death-related. He wanted to give you a normal day and your heart swelled with love over how well he could read you, and how desperately Jake wanted to protect and avenge you.

The next day brought Marc to you, along with a strange level of tension, but it was because of the date, not because of him. It was the end of Day of the Dead. You’d made it through Halloween, All Saints' Day, Samhain - whatever version of the day from whatever culture - without incident, but you somehow wondered if you had only appeared because of the thin veil separating the living and the dead.

You wondered if you even believed in any of those things, never needing to question it before now. Interestingly, you'd never been a terribly suspicious person, but you couldn't stop your racing thoughts. If you made it to November 3rd you would rest somewhat easier, hoping with everything within your miraculous, newfound body that these moments with your love were not merely a visitation.

Marc noticed you growing more quiet throughout the day, as if you were drifting away from him somehow. What he didn’t realize was that it was taking everything within you to keep from asking him about the engagement ring you found. Under normal circumstances, you could try to wait and give him time to do what he was going to do.

But what if you had no more time?

“Talk to me,” he softly implored, pulling you by the hips to sit in his comfy chair with him.

“Just thinking,” you cryptically answered, laying your head against his chest.

“Stay with me,” he murmured against your cheek. "Don't...drift away."

His words cut straight to your heart, pricking your eyes with the sting of hot tears. "I don't want to. But what if I do?"

Cupping your cheek tenderly, he tilted your face to meet his intense gaze. "What can I do to convince you that you're really here?"

You could think of nothing. Yet somehow, the dread brewed inside you like an evil potion, poisoning these precious moments.

In fact, it was as if a dark cloud settled over your little house on Elm Street, casting a shadow so long, it stole the light from your eyes. Marc found himself so troubled that even he tried to reason with Khonshu.

Silence filled your bedroom as you got ready for bed. No light shone in your loving eyes. Marc had spent an entire afternoon walking the line of urging you to talk, while trying not to overwhelm you.

Desperate for a way to get through to you, he rushed to his sock drawer and dug out the engagement ring, hastily flipping open the small box to reveal a brilliant emerald set in gold. You never liked diamonds, but you loved the greens and blues of your home state, so Marc chose an emerald instead.

Tucking it safely in his pocket, he sighed forlornly as you lay down on the bed, facing away from him. Carefully sliding in behind you, he tentatively brushed his fingertips along your bare arm.

"You're slipping away from me," he whispered resolutely. "But I'm not going to let it happen, do you understand?"

Pulling your body back against his chest, he wrapped his arms around you securely.

Maybe something beyond your control really was happening because you felt adrift. The darkness closed around you, no matter how you tried to anchor yourself to Marc's voice, to his touch.

"Marry me," he breathed on your ear. Pressing an urgent kiss to your cheek and then your neck, you felt his body shudder. "Marry me and then, you'll see, we'll be stronger than the dark."

You didn't even respond and your silence cut Marc as deeply as even your supposed death. Throat constricting in anguish, his eyes burned with fresh tears. "I'm sorry, I - "

"I can't feel myself." Your voice stopped him cold. "I can't...I can't feel you."

"What?" Hands touching you all over, he turned you over to face him. His fingers traced your lips, the softness of your cheek, your jawline as his forehead touched yours. "You're right here. You don't feel me touching you?"

"Marc...I can't stay," you murmured, eyes glassy and vacant. "I can't stay like this. I have to go back."

"No," he whimpered, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, tears leaking out of his eyes and soaking into the pillow. "No, you just came back to me. Don't go. Don't leave me."

"I'll come back," you promised, your voice fading. "You have to find me. Don't leave me in the dark."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake found himself hurled to the front, face wet with Marc's tears, heart pounding. It took him a few confused minutes to sort out that you weren't anywhere in the house, and to find your engagement ring, which had fallen haphazardly to the floor.

"I know where she is."

The booming voice of Khonshu prompted Jake into his Moon Knight armor on reflex. "What are you talking about? I thought her 'journey was not within your purview'," Jake hissed. "Where is she?"

"You will be angry," Khonshu responded, "but her trial is complete and she is no longer beyond my reach."

"Where is she?" Jake growled.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake would never have guessed where he would find you, despite that fact that you'd already seemingly returned from the dead.

As he stood over your grave with Khonshu's bony, bandaged hand pointing downward, he couldn't take the chance that the old god was wrong.

With a cry of anguish and fury, he summoned all the supernatural power available to him and slammed his fist through the earth covering your grave. He worked quickly, mud soiling the white parts of his armor, digging as fast as he could, until he reached your casket.

Pausing for only a moment, his lip trembled as Jake, for the first time in his life, gulped out a sob. You really were dead. He was fucking insane and you were dead.

He was desecrating your grave on the word of what was probably and imaginary ancient "god", and your ghost, which his fucked up brain probably conjured since it was Halloween. He was destroying your beautiful resting place and you would be there, fading into the earth.

And it would have all been for nothing.

Then he heard a thumping sound. Muffled. Insistent.

And a faint voice - frantic, but muted.

From inside the coffin.

Without hesitation, Jake tore the lid off like he was tearing wrapping paper from a present, imbued with strength from the bright moon above.

And there you were, inside, but alive. And no different than the day you died.

next

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

happy easter i guess??

Moon Knight Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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[pimosworld]

Bad days

Pairing- Steven grant x f!reader, hints of Marc and Jake x f!reader.

Summary- You help Steven relax and cure his bad day.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, porn with a little plot, angst, fluff, Steven being unsure at first, oral m receiving, cum eating, slight sub Steven,Dom reader, Marc and Jake being teases and helpful because it’s them.

WK-2.4k

A/N- Making Steven feel good is like candy to me so I hope you enjoy this.

Not beta read

[Moon Knight Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

You set the groceries down to knock on the door to Stevens flat. You don’t hear any movement on the other side of the door for a few brief moments. You know Steven wasn’t always punctual but he never missed an opportunity for you to cook him dinner. 

It was a little nerve wracking at first taking over his job in the gift shop. He was promoted to tour guide at the museum but Donna insisted he train his replacement. 

Marc was annoyed in the beginning. How hard could it be to work in a gift shop? He knew Steven had been waiting for so long to be a tour guide and told him in so many words to tell Donna to shove off. Until you walked in.

  For once in his life Steven didn’t bumble his way through an introduction. You loved the way he cared so deeply for the regular patrons and cataloged all the items  in the gift shop. 

  He gave you a taweret plushie on your last day of training and couldn’t contain his excitement when you wrapped your arms around him as a thank you. 

  Ask her now

  It wasn’t often Jake made an appearance, but since you’ve come into the picture he was making himself more and more known. 

  He’s right, ask her

  It was a problem for Steven when Marc and Jake were getting along. He has yet to make his condition known to you, but he’s noticed you smirking when he’s talking out loud or having a stern conversation with his reflection in the glass of the gift shop. 

  “I was wondering if maybe…you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime?” 

  You said yes before he could even get the words out. 

  That was a few months ago. 

  ****

  Steven noticed you at the end of the hallway as the doors to the lift opened. 

  I told you to just give her a key hermano 

  Steven didn’t want to just hand you a key like Marc or Jake would. He wanted it to be special…he already had it made, he just needed an opportunity to present it to you. He’s been so busy with his promotion he’s barely had time for you. 

  You offered to cook him dinner and he couldn’t even bother to be on time for that. 

  He looks so tired, even from where you’re standing. You can tell he’s had a rough day and you’re determined to make it better. It’s not often the boys let you spoil them, always so concerned with your needs. 

  Steven had needs too…he just needed a gentle reminder. 

  ****

  “I’m sorry I’m so late, Love.” He pecks your lips as he drops some scrolls to the ground to fish out his keys. 

  “It’s okay Steven, I haven't been waiting long.” You bend over to pick up the groceries as he drops his keys. 

  “Oh bollocks, can’t even open my own door.” You try to grab his shoulder as he picks them up from the floor. He mutters something under his breath about being clumsy and your certain Marc or Jake aren’t helping. 

  “Steven, honey.” You wrap your arms around him as you slowly grab the keys. “Let me help you.” 

  Steven wants to protest but your hands are like magic covering his. He has to pinch himself everyday to remind himself he’s not dreaming, when it comes to you. Marc and Jake may give him a hard time but he never lets them forget that you were interested in him first. 

  He sighs into your touch as you slowly open the door. “You’re too good to me, you know that.” He scoops the groceries in one arm and the scrolls in the other. 

  “There’s no such thing as too good.” Your lips curve into a smile before you lean in and kiss him and he nearly drops everything in his arms. 

  “Why don’t you set that stuff down and get comfortable.” 

  He goes to protest but you place your finger on his lips. “Go wash off this awful day, change into something comfortable and relax.” You kiss him again a little deeper and longer, you can feel him sigh into it as you start to pull away. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

  I would do what she says if I were you. 

  He pinches himself before he heads off to the bathroom.

  ****

  Steven notes the delicious smell wafting through the flat as he pulls on his favorite jumper and sweatpants. Although he knows whenever he comments on how good it smells you always tell him it’s just garlic and onions. 

  You’re a picture of domestic perfection as you finish putting something in the oven. You wipe your hands on the small towel as you look up and smile at him. 

  His feet are rooted to the spot in the living room as you make your way towards him,you look like you want to devour more than just the food. The urge to look over his shoulder and make sure he’s the one you’re looking at is strong. 

  Your soft hand gently grabs his wrist as you pull him toward the couch. Perhaps Marc or Jake took control of his legs because he certainly doesn’t remember how he swiftly ended up seated with you on your knees in front of him. 

  The words are leaving your mouth but he can’t hear anything over the buzzing in his ears as you rub your hands up and down his legs. 

  “What did you say love?” You smirk and lean up, pulling his face to yours as your soft lips meet his. He could stay like this, just kissing you as he melts into the couch. The stress of the day pouring off him like the rain outside. 

  “I said…did you have a bad day?” You trail kisses along his jaw and nip at his earlobe as you wait for his answer. 

  “Yes.” It comes out as a confession, like he’s ashamed to admit that he has bad days doing his dream job.

  Your warm hands roam under his sweater along his chest and trail down as you hook your fingers in his waistband. His breathing is coming in too fast and he tries to calm himself down as your body brushes against the obvious tent in his sweats.

  “Do you want me to make it better?” It’s a whisper in his ear that he hears loud and clear as your hands wait for permission.

  Say yes Steven

Say yes Steven

  It must’ve been too long, because his head mates urge him to answer you before you change your mind. As if you ever would. 

  “Yes…please.” You chuckle at his rushed out response as if you can read his mind and know exactly what they’re saying. 

  It drives him a little bit wild that you’re giving him this attention. He was always a little more reserved than Marc and not as bold as Jake. He’s never been treated like this. The sole purpose of someone’s desires. 

  You tug a little on his pants and bite your lip. He lifts his hips to help you as you pull them down just enough to pool at his feet. He’s achingly hard as your hand reaches out to pump him a few times. 

  He bites down on his tongue to keep from coming at the first touch of you. It’s only been a few days and he’s already so desperate for anything you’ll give him. 

  The genuine look of enjoyment on your face as you stare at it like it’s an appetizer to a four course meal is something he’ll have to frame in his mind. 

  The feel of your hand is quickly replaced with your mouth as you slide down the length of him, your plush lips wrapped around his cock as you hum in approval. Finally provided the relief you both wanted. 

  He chokes back a moan as your tongue slides back up, slowly twirling around the tip. A drop of precum trails down the side and you tilt your head licking it up like an ice cream cone. Not wanting to waste a drop. 

  Fuck

  Your hands are on his legs again as you rub them in time with your head as you bob up and down, moaning around his cock sending chills up his spine. 

  You loved watching Steven let go. It was exhilarating that you could make someone come undone. The  dark look in his eyes is almost similar to Marc’s but you know by the noises coming from him and the way his hands grip the couch it’s your sweet Steven. 

  Put your hand on the back of her head

  “What?” He rasps out above you. 

  You come off with a pop and take in his unruly curls as the sweat forms on his furrowed brow. 

  “I didn’t say anything honey.” He stares blankly at you for a moment before he realizes he must’ve spoke out loud. 

  Idiota

  “Sorry love, you can keep going…if you want to—

  His rambling is cut short as you take him into your mouth again, not wasting a moment as your lips slide all the way down his cock. Your nose brushes the curls at the base and you gag a little. 

  “Sorry love…” Steven begins to apologize but you don’t seem to be stopping. 

  Listen to me and don’t say anything 

  Perhaps he should just listen to Marc, he’s never…well maybe not never, but he’s rarely led him astray. 

  Put your hand on the back of her head and Gently…go with her movements. 

  You glance up at Steven who nods his head as he places his hand on the back of yours. He’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes like he’s asking for permission to do what you’ve been wanting this whole time. Enjoy it. 

  You hollow out your cheeks and pull him in deeper as he audibly moans a little louder. His nails scratch lightly at your scalp as he pushes you down a little further. His bold movements turn you on even more than you were before. You breathe through your nose and push past the burning in your lungs to stay on the edge of his pleasure for a little longer. 

  “You’re perfect, you know that?” He mostly says it to himself as you whine your response because you can't really answer at the moment. Not verbally at least. 

  You know you probably look a mess as your mascara runs down your cheeks and the drool pools outside your mouth as he takes what he wants. Except he’s looking at you like you hung the moon as his free hand swipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. 

  It feels like he’s in the duwat again the way he’s floating between this reality and the next. He struggles to keep his eyes on you as he throws his head back against the couch finally relinquishing all control he had over his emotions. 

  The sounds of your mouth and the muttering of praises are all he can focus on as the familiar feeling starts to creep up his back and infiltrate his brain. 

  You can feel his legs tense beneath your hands as the grip in your hair tightens instinctually. 

  “I’m…im close love, you don’t have to.” 

  Cállate y déjale

  “It’s okay Steven, you can let go.” You half pant out as you resume before he can protest. 

  You place your hand on top of his and urge him on as he curses under his breath. His hips stutter slightly as he feels himself let go, spilling hot ropes of come into your mouth. You don’t let up as you swallow every drop until he’s boneless beneath you. His cock twitches slightly as you come off, slowly catching your breath. His hand drops to the couch with a thud as you raise up next to him and brush his curls out of his face. 

  The redness on his neck dissipates with every breath that he takes in. He may have been close to passing out if you hadn’t stopped soon. 

  “That was…incredible.” He half whispers to himself and you chuckle into his neck as you place soft kisses to his sweaty skin. 

  “I’m glad I could help.” 

  The timer on the oven beeps bringing your attention back to the dinner you started when you told him to relax. 

  “Ooohh, the lasagna is done.I hope you’re hungry.” You bounce up off the couch as he stands and pulls his sweats back on. 

  He feels like he ran a marathon and food sounds delightful at the moment. 

  “You made my favorite?” It’s said as more of a question than a statement as he watches you move around his kitchen like you’ve been here all your life. 

  “I made two actually.” You cut into one and place a serving on each of your plates. “Vegan and meat sauce. I’ll mark them for you so you know which is which.” 

  I love her 

Ella es perfecta

  You lick the sauce off your finger and he’s brought back to what you just did for him on the couch. 

  “I have something for you love.” Steven heads to the room briefly and digs through his jacket pocket before he finds it. 

  He sheepishly returns to the kitchen island where you’re digging into your smaller portion of lasagna. He’s trying  to rid his head of these thoughts for a second as you make the same noises from before as you savor your food. 

  His hand shakily slides the key towards you and you set your fork down to pick it up. The beautiful brass key looks so big in your delicate hands. 

  “Is this my prize?” You ask with a mischievous glint in your eye. 

  Smooth

  “Oh no…I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while. I didn’t plan it this way…it was supposed to be special and well…”

  “Shhh. Steven, relax, I'm just joking.” He eases a little at your words, knowing you’re just teasing him. You and Jake had that down better than he or Marc ever could. “I love it honey, thank you for trusting me with this.” 

  You lean in and place a kiss to his cheek, shorter than he would care for. He never wants you to stop touching him if he could help it. 

  “Eat up, before it gets cold.” 

  Before I take the body and eat my own

No me parece 

  He eats while they bicker, not wanting to waste another precious moment with you. 

  ****

  Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you stare out the window of the bus on the way home from work. 

  Steven: where are you love?

      On the bus I just left work, how was your day?

  Steven: It was quite dreadful 

           I’ll be home soon to make it better 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging a few who might be interested

@missdictatorme @chichimisaki @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @simpforbritgents

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

How would the OI characters react if the reader accidentally called them "husband" and was embarrassed after she realized her mistake?

This is so cute, oh my gosh! <3 Thank you so much for sending it!

OI Characters Called 'Husband' By Accident Headcanons

Steven: Absolutely giddy with joy! Yes, he is your husband. 100% heart eyes from him, he’ll grab your hand and squeeze it and smile. If you’re around other people he will call you ‘his wife’ straight away playfully and give you a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

Marc: Bless this man, he freezes. Error screen across his eyes and frantically inwardly asking Steven and Jake if they got married before he realises he’s being silly.

Jake: Without missing a beat, will ask, “Where is my ring?” And then will tease you about it playfully for ages until you're laughing.

Nathan: This idiot doesn’t even notice. You think, at first, it’s because he’s not paying attention. But when he sees you’re embarrassed he’s like, “why? What wrong? Why’s that bothering you? I basically am?”

Anselm: It doesn’t matter where you are because Anselm’s going down on you there and then.

Cecil: If he’s high it takes him a good fifteen minutes to register what you said. 

Club!Blue: He’s (unsurprisingly) a little shit about it. “Oh, you like me that much do you? You want to marry me?” Will smugly tell everyone. “They want to marry me.” 

Orderly!Blue: He’s going to tease you until you cry, I’m so sorry. (He’s then going to fuck your brains out).

Jack: Do NOT say this unless you want to end up tied up in his trailer.

Santiago: Will joke with you about it, “Oh, calling me that because I nag you too much, huh?” Is secretly very pleased, but doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed. 

Shimmer!Kane: Doesn’t quite get the implication, but he doesn’t like seeing you upset/embarrassed. Will give you a hug.

King John: Similar to Club!Blue, he’s going to be telling everyone and preening about it.

Rydal: Surprisingly gets all shy and blushes. 

Laurent: He’s already got the ring in his back pocket.

Poe: Giggles about it in a very ‘oh my gosh, hee hee hee, do you like me?’ way, even if you have been together for years.

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

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[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes: This is part one of a new series.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 1622

Masterlist

---

You’re going to be new again. You’re so terribly tired of being new. But that's how it’s always been. Never in one place long enough to be considered a usual in town. Never a constant in anyone’s life. No. You’re the new girl, because people don’t give you a choice to be anything else. 

You learned it quite young. People’s lingering glances have nothing to do with curiosity or intrigue. They don’t stare because you’re particularly beautiful or unique-looking. Rather, they watch you so they may judge and criticize and tease. You learned it doesn’t fade as you age. People are people, and not all of them grow. Unfortunately for you, those people are scattered about the world as much as the good-hearted ones. But the good-hearted never approach you. They never look your way. 

Eventually, as it goes, the life you’re living, surrounded by those people, becomes too much. You get tired again. You leave that disappointing town. You find somewhere new. You repeat. The many places you’ve been have become tainted, and now you’re left with few. So few that two nights ago, instead of four different cities scribbled on notecards to choose from, there were three. The options are slimming. You put the cards in a bowl, closed your eyes, and now you’re a California resident, for however long that may be.

It’s extreme, you sometimes think—writing off a whole city or town when they’re full of other neighborhoods with different people who have fresh pairs of eyes—but it makes you feel better. You can say to yourself that you no longer live in that city or town. That city or town was an old life. 

In your new life—born from the moment you crossed the state line all of four hours ago—you’ve yet to feel out of place. Things have kept from souring. No wrong turns. No bad weather. A new apartment awaiting you from an ad you’d answered the day prior. The ad included a roommate you don’t want, but it’s cheap and all you can afford until you get a job. 

It’s also a risk. This “Jake” guy could be as bad as the rest, but there’s only one way to find out. And if he is bad—well, you’ve got two more notecards in your bag.

—

It’s nicer than you expected, and that brings forth a hearty handful of questions. Why would this guy need a roommate if he lived here? Why is the rent so cheap? And when you finally knock on the door, Jake is actually…a woman?

You do a quick scan of her face and form. She’s beautiful in nearly every conventional way. Her features fit in all the right places on her face. Her body is proportional, filling out clothes the way they are meant to be filled out. She’s intimidating. Not the roommate you expected, and certainly not a roommate you can handle having. She might very well be lovely, but you don’t need a daily reminder of what you are not. 

“Are you…Jake?” you ask.

“Natasha. You’re in the right place,” she replies, moving aside to make room for you to pass the threshold. 

Looking around, you almost gasp. The interior matches the grandness of its exterior wrapping. Lofted ceilings; natural light; walls painted in thick, throughout coats so as not to allow the slightest hint of their previous shade to peek through. It officially confirms what you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before—you’ve grown too accustomed to living in dumps. From the shine of the floor alone, you know you’ve never held yourself to this guy’s standards. 

Will I have to meet those standards? 

“Jake couldn’t be here so he asked me to let you in,” Natasha says. “The key is on the counter.”

“Right, um–” You swallow, unsure how to ask what could easily be interpreted as rude. “And this Jake guy, is he…”

“Not a creep,” she promises with a light smile, “Just irritating.”

“That’s a relief.”

“If you like arrogant pilots.”

You almost tell her that a know-it-all plane man is probably one of the last people you intend to worry about—falling in place next to old ladies, babies, and tiny dogs—but you keep your mouth shut. She doesn’t need your story. And if Jake is a pilot, then it seems safe to say he won’t be around enough to bother figuring you out, either. 

“I can handle a pilot.” As long as he keeps to himself—Another thing you don’t say. 

The brunette nods. “Then this might work out after all,” she says before giving you a once-over. “He’ll definitely be surprised by you, though."

That stops you, nudging you back into a past you’re trying to forget. It makes your breath catch in your throat. Your ears begin to thump from a quickening pulse. “What do you mean by that?”

Chocolate brown eyes widen briefly before relaxing back into an indifferent mask. “Nothing. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” she says. Another smile. Same as before. Then, “If you’re okay, I actually have somewhere to be.”

Releasing a tense exhale, you plaster on a smile of your own. “I’m good. Thank you.”

She nods and makes her way toward the door, wrapping slender fingers around the brushed nickel knob. “Jake said to let you know he’ll be back late. So you have some time to get acquainted with the place.” 

She twists the knob and steps through the open frame. When the door has nearly eclipsed the remainder of her body, she pauses and her eyes meet yours. “I hope you'll like it here. It’ll be nice to have another woman around to dilute the testosterone,” she says. Then she’s gone. 

Standing in the apartment alone, you feel like an intruder. Though Natasha told you to get acquainted, you can't imagine going on the hunt for your bedroom, or unpacking your clothes, or reclining on the couch with a snack from the refrigerator. Something in you says it's better to stand in the same spot until your roommate returns to lead you about the place himself. If only you knew when that would be.

—

The only thing clueing you in that, at some point, you’d fallen asleep in the armchair by the bookshelf is the key-in-lock sound now stirring you awake. You jolt up out of the chair to find the sun had set so long ago that not a sliver of orange on the horizon remains. How many hours had been wasted making up for lost sleep when you should’ve been rehearsing how to respond to all possible reactions your roommate might have upon seeing you?

It doesn’t matter. You’re out of time now. 

You’ve barely readjusted your shirt to hide the exposed line of your bra by the time the door opens. But the man who walks through is far from what you imagined, and you had imagined plenty. 

You wait for a second, breath trapped in lungs. But then you realize he has yet to notice you, so with curious eyes, you use his unaware moment to truly notice him. 

He’s tall, broad, with short sandy blond hair and a jawline you’ve not seen on any man outside of a TV screen or glossy magazine page. Sharp like etched marble. His stubble is a day's worth, and while you suspect it’s not a representation of his usual appearance, you can’t say it doesn’t suit him well. 

Through pink parted lips you hear the exhale of his sigh, and suddenly see from the slump of his shoulders as he removes his jacket to hang on a nearby hook that he’s as tired as you are. Likely for very different reasons, but tired all the same. An affliction of sorts you understand too well.

When he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe off the exhaustion like a wet rag removing dirt from skin, you get your first full image of him. Before it was just his profile. That was enough to tell you plenty, but straight on he’s…more. From the hallway light, you catch a glimpse of the green hue of his eyes. You notice the tanness of his arms–not natural, but from spending too much time in the sun–and the veins that trail along them like rivers in the earth. 

You’re suddenly not so sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. Men like him you’ve dealt with before, and it doesn’t often do you well. However, you promised yourself that with each town, you’ll pretend your past pain doesn’t exist so you may approach the new people and places without preconceived opinions. It’s a struggle of a promise to keep, but you do your best. And having just arrived, it would be silly not to try to do your best here as well. 

Those green eyes finally find yours and he stops short, almost stumbling as if he forgot to expect you. But he recovers quickly, standing straight and sturdy to confirm his height. His slightly slackened jaw coupled with the stare he gives you, however, doesn’t quite manage the same impressive recovery rate. His face can’t hide his surprise. 

A throat-clearing is followed by, “You’re my new roommate?”

You can’t tell if there’s judgment in his tone. Disappointment, maybe? He’s still staring. 

“Yes,” you say calmly, giving him a chance to not be the prick you suspect he might be. Don’t break your promise, you internally scold.

His gaze lingers on each feature of your face. Eyes pause at your lips before traveling lower; much lower until he reaches your toes then makes his way back up to where he started. 

A beat passes. He swallows hard. Then that deep voice, having turned a bit husky, mutters a soft, “Fuck.”

---

A/N: again, this is a new series. So part 2 soon. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @penguin876

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 11

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

The next morning, you arrived at the hotel ready to tackle your workload. As you approached your office, you noticed something unusual—the door was locked. You jiggled the handle, hoping it was a mistake, but it remained stubbornly closed.

Your mind immediately went to Lydia. She was the only one who could have done this.

Finding Lydia in her office room, her expression cold and authoritative. “I own this business. I can do whatever I want. Starting today, you’re banned from this place,” she declared, her voice dripping with disdain.

You didn’t want to push the issue any further. With a resigned sigh, you decided to leave. As you left the hotel, you noticed several employees watching you, their whispers barely concealed.

Natasha, in particular, seemed to revel in your discomfort. She left the front desk, a cup of tea in hand, her lips curved into a smug smile headed to Lydia's office. From the window, Lydia looked on with a satisfied gleam in her eye.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Natasha said, her voice tinged with malice as she handed a cup of tea to Lydia.

Lydia took the cup with a sense of triumph, savoring the sweet aroma of victory that seemed to emanate from the tea. She took a deliberate sip, her gaze never leaving Natasha.

“But your son…” Natasha began, a hint of concern slipping into her tone.

Mentioning Bucky caused Lydia to flinch visibly. She paused, her hand momentarily tightening around her cup. After a moment’s hesitation, she replied curtly, “He won’t dare go against his own mother.”

With that, Lydia reached into her purse and pulled out a thick wad of cash. Natasha’s eyes widened with greed as she watched the stack of bills being unfurled.

Lydia handed the money to Natasha with a smug smile. “Here’s your compensation. And my gesture of thanks for encouraging me to come back,” she said, her tone dismissive.

Natasha’s excitement was palpable as she counted the money, her eyes sparkling with approval. “Anything for you,” she said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she slipped the cash into her own pocket.

Lydia, watching with a smug satisfaction, raised her cup in a mock toast towards Natasha. “I appreciate your loyalty. It’s good to know who I can count on,” Lydia said, her voice laced with a hint of scorn. She took another slow, deliberate sip of her tea, savoring the moment.

Natasha beamed, her earlier indifference melting away in the face of the cash and Lydia’s praise. “Just doing what needs to be done,” she replied, her voice now dripping with sycophancy. She glanced at Lydia, her expression a mix of adoration and cunning.

The atmosphere between them was thick with unspoken power plays and veiled hostility. Lydia’s gaze was cold and calculating, while Natasha's expression was a careful blend of eagerness and submission.

As Natasha finished tucking the money away, Lydia dismissed her with a curt wave of her hand. “You’re free to go. I’ve got other matters to attend to.”

Natasha nodded enthusiastically and quickly exited, eager to be out of Lydia’s presence and out of reach of any further demands.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

While driving home, you mulled over the strange intensity of Lydia's hatred. It was bewildering to you; you had barely interacted with her during your time in town. Arriving at home, you saw Tom emerging from the house, his jacket buttoned up against the chill.

“Why are you back so early?” Tom asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“The owner fired me,” you replied tersely, the frustration clear in your voice.

“The owner?” Tom’s confusion melted into understanding as he added, “Oh, her.”

“Where are you going?” you asked, noting the determined set of his jaw.

“To the hospital. Just a routine check-up,” Tom said nonchalantly.

Since Tom had first told you about his cancer diagnosis, you hadn’t accompanied him to any appointments. “I’ll go with you,” you offered, surprising both yourself and him.

Tom’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Are you sure?”

You nodded firmly. “Yes, I want to.”

Tom was taken aback by your sudden willingness. The drive to the hospital was silent, and as you arrived, you couldn’t help but notice how the place looked somewhat run-down.

The building seemed outdated, starkly contrasting to the well-maintained hospitals you were used to in the city. The thought of cancer patients being treated here didn’t sit well with you.

When Harlan was still alive and fighting his own battle, you had seen him seek out the best care, no matter where it was. You knew that even in a small town, the facilities for treating cancer should be better than this.

In the waiting area, you turned to your father, concern etched on your face. “Do you want to get a second opinion in the city? I know some excellent doctors.”

Tom waved off your concern with a dismissive gesture. “It’s alright. The hospital might look old now, but they’re planning to build a new one later this year.”

“How do you know?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice.

“Bucky mentioned it. His contractor business is handling the construction,” Tom explained.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re really close to him.”

“He’s like a son I never had,” Tom said, a wistful note in his voice.

The words hung between you, creating an unexpected silence. Tom’s face flushed with sudden regret as he slapped his hand against his forehead. “I’m such a stupid dad with a stupid mouth. Urgh!”

For a moment, you felt a pang of understanding. Your father’s attempt to express his feelings, even if it was awkward, revealed a deeper truth. He had always been a good father, but it was clear now that there was a part of him that longed for a different kind of connection.

Your lack of reaction made Tom uneasy. He fidgeted with his jacket, unsure of how to bridge the gap he had unintentionally created. The awkwardness hung heavy, but there was also a sense of clarity—both for you and for him.

Before you could further explore the tension, a nurse appeared, her clipboard in hand. “Dr. Stark is ready to see you,” she announced with a professional smile.

As you and Tom entered the examination room, you were met by Dr. Tony Stark. His presence was immediately striking—his demeanor was confident and his tailored suit spoke of someone accustomed to high stakes and high standards.

“Tom!” Tony greeted warmly, extending a firm handshake. His gaze then shifted to you, and his eyebrows arched in recognition. “You look just like her.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

Tony’s smile faltered slightly as he adjusted his glasses, seemingly surprised by his own slip. “Pardon me. I went to the same school as your mother,” he explained, his tone softening with a touch of nostalgia. He then gestured towards Tom. “He’s a lucky guy.”

Tom’s face turned a shade of red as he shifted uncomfortably. The mention of his past made him awkward, but he managed a sheepish smile.

Tony proceeded to discuss Tom’s medical condition with a mix of professionalism and empathy. He reviewed Tom’s file, made some notes, and prescribed additional medication. His calm and methodical approach seemed to put Tom at ease, though you remained unsettled by the hospital’s overall atmosphere.

It seemed outdated and not up to the standards you were accustomed to, and you resolved to find a better facility for your father as soon as possible.

As Tony wrapped up the consultation, you noticed a framed photograph on the wall. It was an old, slightly blurred image of a football celebration. The focus was hazy, but one figure stood out clearly in the foreground—your mother. She was dressed in a cheerleader’s outfit, her smile radiant. What caught your attention was that she was hugging another man, someone whose build and presence made it clear he wasn’t your father.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Tony’s voice startled you. You turned to find him standing just behind you, his gaze fixed on the photo with an unreadable expression.

You were taken aback, the shock evident on your face. “Why is that photo here?”

Tony’s eyes softened, revealing a trace of sadness or perhaps regret. “That’s from a time when things were simpler, and people were less complicated,” he said quietly. “She was something special.”

Tom, standing beside you, remained silent but his expression mirrored the quiet turmoil you felt. Seeing him like this brought back memories of your own experiences with bullying—times when you had felt isolated and out of place. It was a stark reminder of how the past could linger, shaping the present in ways you might not fully understand.

As you prepared to leave the examination room, the weight of the discovery pressed heavily on you. The photo, Tony’s unexpected comments, and Tom’s uneasy demeanor contributed to a growing disquiet. You resolved to dig deeper into the hospital’s practices and to ensure that your father received the care he deserved.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

After the unsettling encounter with Dr. Stark, you drove Tom back home, your mind still spinning from the encounter. You needed answers, so you headed to the library. The small-town library, with its dusty shelves and musty smell, seemed like the perfect place to uncover secrets from the past.

In the dimly lit library, you pored over old newspapers, your fingers flipping through brittle pages. You were searching for any mention of a high school football game or related events. Given the town’s size, there had to be some story that linked to your mother and the people around her.

Hours passed as you sifted through countless articles. Finally, you came across a collection of photographs from a high school football game. Your mother was there, among the cheering crowd.

She looked radiant, her smile bright, and her cheerleader uniform vibrant. She was surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Dr. Stark, Mr. Rogers, and others all look close and friendly.

But what caught your eye was a man standing next to her. Her arm was draped around his neck, and his arm was wrapped around her waist. They looked incredibly close.

He had the same distinctive eyebrows, nose, and hairstyle as someone you knew. Your heart raced as you squinted at the faded image. The man’s name was Alex Morris.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you connected the dots. Alex Morris was Lydia Barnes' husband and Bucky's father.

It dawned on you why Lydia had harbored such animosity toward you—because Alex Morris was your mother’s ex-boyfriend. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Just as the weight of this revelation settled on you, Jake Jensen unexpectedly appeared, "Boo!!"

His sudden presence made you gasp, startling you so much that you let out a small scream. This attracted disapproving shushes from other library patrons.

“I'm sorry,” Jake said, his voice low, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“In a library?” you said, still clutching your chest from the shock. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a quieter section of the library, away from prying eyes and ears.

Once you were hidden among the quiet bookshelves, you pointed a finger at Jake. “You owe me.”

Jake looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know what you did that led to me being bullied by that mean girls’ group,” you said, your voice steady but filled with accusation.

Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize the impact it had.”

“I’m not interested in your apology,” you said, crossing your arms and fixing him with a stern look. “Not unless you do something for me first.”

Jake’s expression shifted from confusion to apprehension. “What do I need to do?”

“You need to get your mother to spill what she knows about my mother and Alex Morris,” you demanded. “She’s the town’s biggest gossip, and I need to know everything she’s heard.”

Jake was taken aback, clearly caught off guard by your request. He looked at you, his face a mix of guilt and hesitation. “You really want to dig into all this?”

You nodded firmly. “Yes. I need to understand what happened and why Lydia Barnes hates me. I’m counting on you to get me those answers.”

Jake looked like he was struggling to process your demand. Finally, he nodded slowly, a mix of resignation and resolve in his eyes. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. This was the first step toward unraveling the secrets shadowing your life.

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