steven-grants-world

[steven-grants-world]

New Vanity Fair feature about Frankenstein + photos

You can read the full article here, plus all the pics, but I’m including some Oscar specific excepts.

As Isaac gets to work making the body that del Toro describes as “a quilt,” the director urges him not to be delicate. “Bone surgery is a lot like carpentry,” del Toro explains. “They call it traumatology, because it causes such trauma. Somebody coming in with a box of tools.”

Isaac, clad in red gloves and a billowing stained shirt open to the navel, likes that. He smiles behind sweaty hair that dangles down over his face. “I think instead of calling myself an actor, I’m going to introduce myself as a traumatologist,” he says. Isaac plays the ethically challenged scientist as part surgeon, part mechanic.

(…)

The incessant laughter between him and Isaac lightens the mood on a gloomy story story about the hubris of trying to defy death rather than savoring the fleeting time we are given. “What’s interesting to me is that he’s not trying to keep me in some sort of dark evil zone. He basically directs in jokes to me,” Isaac says.

Del Toro, who’s from Mexico, often delivers these bleak gags in Spanish to Isaac, who was born in Guatemala. “It feels like I’m making something with a family member,” Isaac says. Speaking Spanish also kept them out of trouble. “A lot of the jokes aren’t translatable because they sound kind of awful when you’re telling them in English,” the actor admits.

Though the movie itself does not have a lighthearted tone, del Toro’s operatic approach gives it an over-the-top feeling that softens the blows. “There’s absurdity in the face of darkness, which is a very, very elemental trait of Latin America,” Isaac says. “There’s a nuance about how one approaches death and darkness that has a surreality to it.”

(…)

“In the Mary Shelley book, funnily enough, Victor had the sweetest stage-mom of a dad,” Isaac points out. “He followed him around, paid for everything, was such a big part of his life, writing him letters all the time, believing in him. And he still ended up being what he was.”

[steven-grants-world]

I'm speechless, Santi is a dream man, he's perfection ❤❤❤

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #9: Feelings...or Just Sex?

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Summary: You're alone (in a hotel room) with Santiago. Finally.

Content: warnings on the fic masterlist, discussions of safe sex, aftercare, self-doubt

wc: 3.2k

"You're here," Santiago said, his words a rush of unexpected excitement. He reached for your elbows to pull you inside, pausing as he noticed an overnight duffel.

"I-I don't have to stay," you deflected. "Or bother you, if you're concentrating on work. I just had to see you."

Dark eyebrows arched longingly, eyes gleaming as he coaxed you inside his hotel room, gallantly taking your bag and urging you past the threshold, securing the lock behind you.

He turned his back on you for only a moment, long enough to stash your bag carefully on the nearest chair before spinning around and caging you in, up against the door.

"You're here," he repeated, hips pressing into yours with a memorized possessiveness, yet gentle and unhurried. His hands cradled your face, fingertips tracing the line of your jaw while his thumb swiped tenderly over your parted, panting lips.

Hands fisting his soft, white t-shirt, you smiled against his mouth, nodding once. "Yeah. Is it okay that I'm here?"

He hummed an affirmation, touching his forehead to yours, sharing your breath as he held himself still. "Are we...can we...did you want to talk, or - "

Yanking him closer, you kissed him hungrily, the familiar feel of his lips igniting a sweet ache in your chest. How many times had you kissed him by now, nearly all of them stolen?

In the dark of your bedroom the first time you touched him - the first time you heard him pant your name and felt his body shudder in your hand.

Stolen kisses in the laundry room ever since Jace made his accusations, since you'd failed to find one plausible excuse to return to Santiago's house to continue what you started those first few not-dates.

His hand brushing across the curve of your back as he passed you in the kitchen at Frankie's barbecue, his arm rubbing up against yours as you conveniently volunteered to wash the dishes together. Touching but not kissing, not privacy, not this.

The way he showed up to hang out with Frankie just as you were leaving babysitting duty, your eyes fixed on his as you handed sweet baby Vinnie over to his dad. Santiago walked you out to your car in broad daylight, a few kind words the only thing he could give you as he squeezed your hand before you left.

Hand still cupping your cheek, he guided your mouth against his, kissing you with unrestrained fervor as the realization set in that this was no stolen moment in the woods. A surge of possession swept over him as he ran his hands down your body, cupping your breasts hungrily before gripping your hips and squeezing.

You released your grip on his shirt, hands clawing their way behind his neck, where you slid your fingers into his shower fresh curls and pulled your body flush against his.

He groaned into your mouth, hands flying all over you, as if he couldn't decide where he needed to feel you most. You yanked on his hair hard enough to break the kiss only for a moment. Santi hissed in surprise, eyes darkening as he watched you panting.

His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, surprising you. You gasped out as he slid his fingers up underneath the hem of your shorts to feel the rounded curve of your ass. He nibbled on your chin, then your jaw, heated breaths drawing sweet, desperate whimpers from you throat as he laid seductive kisses across your neck.

His name left your lips in a whine as he sucked the spot below your ear.

"Come to bed with me."

His mouth found its way back to yours, kissing you furiously before finally forcing himself to wait, to get you where he really wanted you, underneath him.

As you stepped apart, hands joined, chests heaving with desire and breathless anticipation, he brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed an adoring kiss there.

"Come on."

Fingers tangled, you nodded eagerly, following his lead. He guided you to the edge of the bed, where you both sat down. Reaching out to touch your face, he smiled at you, eyes dipping to your mouth. He wet his lips but cleared his throat as if he needed a reset.

"I can't believe you're here." He exhaled in a rush. "I'm glad you came."

Scooting a little closer, he kept one hand on your cheek, touching his forehead to yours, driven to distraction by the way your chest heaved as if you couldn't quite catch your breath. You were ravishing, even in a t-shirt and shorts, and it was damn distracting. "You okay? You know we can take this slow."

You silenced him again, sealing your mouth to his, the softness and sweet pressure of his lips evoking a soft moan, passing heatedly between you.

"I don't want to take it slow," you breathlessly uttered, reaching for him, needing to feel your body sink into his. His forearms flexed against your back as he pulled you closer, groaning as you climbed across his lap, spreading your thighs and pressing yourself against him intimately.

"I want you," you panted, gripping his shoulders for support as you rolled your hips against him. "Do you want me?"

Santiago wondered what kind of question you thought you were asking him. Did he want you? Did he want to touch you? Always. Did he want to fuck you? Desperately. Did he want you, really, truly you? Well, he couldn't afford to think about that. It was impossible for so many reasons, so every possibility, by necessity, needed to be boiled down and channeled into giving you sex: the one and only thing you could ever need from him. The thing he was good at, and that he could do for you without fucking it up, without hurting you, wrecking your whole family dynamic.

Fingers digging into your spine, he pressed your body down as he thrust up into you, zeroing in on the physical sensations between you. "You feel what you do to me? I want you. You're all I can fucking think about."

You nodded, pressing your hands against his chest, wondering if his heart was thundering half as loudly as yours. With your grip firm on his shirt, you balled it up in your fists, yanking it upward impatiently.

Santiago let out a chuckle at your determination, helping you remove his t-shirt and toss it aside. Before you touched him again, however, his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. "You too."

"Okay," you breathlessly laughed, working with him to get it off, shivering with anticipation over what he would think of your white corset, the one he'd missed the opportunity to see at the wedding, hidden so carefully underneath a casual, oversized t-shirt.

He exhaled shakily, all the moisture leaving his mouth at the way the sensual satin and soft lace hugged your curves in all the right ways. Sexy laces crisscrossed all the way up to the center of your breasts - the round swell of your soft skin spilling so scandalously that he had to touch you, to taste you, hauling you up on your knees so his lips could latch on to the pillowy soft skin there.

Your breath stuttered as he sucked long and hard enough to leave his mark on you, then dragged his tongue across your cleavage to do the same thing on the other side.

One hand crept up to toy with the laces, deftly easing them from their fastening points, and for this, he stopped and fixed his eyes on yours, gazing hazily up at you through long lashes as you stood on your knees slightly above him.

"I bought it for you," you confessed in a rush. "So you would see it and know that I wanted you to touch me like this."

Although he was panting, the corner of his mouth curled in its trademark way. "I know you do." Hands working faster, he finally loosened the ties, allowing your tits to spill free. You thrust them shamelessly toward his mouth, a hungry moan filling the room as he licked and sucked at your nipples, working you up slow and steady, reminding you of how his tongue felt on your clit that night of the wedding, the last night you did anything more but miss him and kiss him.

He kissed a trail to your other nipple and sucked you into his mouth, hands feeling their way down to your shorts.

"Take these off," he ordered, a few satisfying moments later, lips swollen and wet, chest heaving as he watched you stand and obey him. You posed before him in your white lace panties and half tied corset, nipples swollen, wet and erect.

"Do you like it?" You asked him so sweetly, eyes blinking as you twisted this way and that, putting yourself on display for his pleasure, something so softly innocent and scandalously sexy at the same time.

But he couldn't even find the words, instead pulling you back to him urgently, collapsing with you in a desperate tangle on the bed, rolling you underneath him and kissing you hungrily. "Tell me...make sure you tell me to stop," he gasped, in between the salacious rolling of his tongue over yours as his hands devoured every inch of your skin he could get to.

"I don't want you to stop," you purred against his ear, the shower fresh scent of his skin intoxicating you like a drug. Using your feet to push at the waistband of his shorts, you whined, "I want you to take these off."

He chuckled against your cheek, helping you work him free of the rest of his clothes. You dragged your toes up the back of his thigh, using your leg to pull him down so you could feel the heaviness of his hard cock against the flimsy material of your soaking wet panties.

"Got you naked first," you hotly breathed, nibbling on his ear, humming with satisfaction as he rubbed himself against your aching center.

"I'm gonna let you have this moment," he groaned, the feel of damp lace barely covering your sweet cunt making him twitch and thrust harder. "Cause any minute now, I'm gonna lose control of myself."

"Good," you whispered, fingers returning to his curls, twirling temptingly. "We're finally alone. We have all night."

Santi shifted his hips, hitting a new spot that elicited a gasp as the lace dragged deliciously over your clit. "Right there?" He shot you a cocky smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you panted, nodding eagerly. "god..."

He kissed you hard, rocking against you for a few more delicious thrusts, while knowing he had to maintain some control, despite his previous threat to the contrary.

Biting your lip barely enough to sting, he sucked it into his mouth before attaching his lips to your throat, sucking hotly. Kissing his way down your body, he smiled against your skin as your breath hitched, soft moans spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

He finally made it to your already ruined pretty panties, sagging with your slick and barely covering the bits he wanted to taste most. With one swift movement, he yanked them down to your knees, unbothered with the notion of pulling them all the way off your legs before he separated your folds with his fingers and licked you roughy.

"oh fuck..." you gasped, squirming in his grasp as he worked you over, lapping at you the way he did at the wedding, but with a determined vigor, driven by the sinful sounds you gasped and moaned and uttered.

Still, he tore his mouth away reluctantly, checking with you. He reached for your hand, peering up through his eyelashes. "You okay, baby? You taste so good, you're fucking perfect."

"I'm good," you whimpered. "Don't stop."

He huffed out a satisfied chuckle, grinning wolfishly but undercutting his playfulness with a soft kiss to your stomach. "I won't stop again."

Lowering his lips, he sucked on your clit, gently at first, then harder, flicking his tongue in between long, slow sucks. His fingertips toyed with your folds, groaning at how wet you were before he pushed a finger inside your hot walls, swirling a few times before adding a second finger.

You were tight and he wanted to work you open a little bit because he was 100% certain of what you were here to do - what you wanted from him. All you would ever want from him. And he was ready to give it to you, but would take every second until the sun rose if he had to, to make it good for you.

"Santi, please...please," You begged, and he realized that his thoughts distracted him, only for a moment, from curling his fingers into the spongy softness inside you. He moved faster, working you closer to the edge, and thankful he wasn't his younger self, or the sounds you uttered would have made him come all over your leg by now.

Your breathing devolved into shallow pants, the muscles in your body tensing as your walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers. Digging your heels into the mattress, you arched into him, a delicious cry of pleasure echoing off the hotel room walls as you gushed all over his mouth and fingers.

He waited until you you quieted before gingerly easing his thick fingers out of you, pressing another kiss to your stomach before climbing his way to rest beside you.

"That's my girl," he roughly whispered, arms possessively folding you against his chest. "You did so good for me."

Hearing him call you that - his girl - something you'd heard a thousand times - in this setting set something aflame inside you. Finding it hard to calm down or slow your erratic breathing, you gripped his arms, panting against his chest as pleasure continued to surge through your body. You would swear your mind and heart were breaking the damn "feelings rule", except that you had no practical experience for this situation. Maybe it was just good sex. Oral sex, anyway. Santi had probably felt this a dozen times with other women far more sexy and experienced than you.

"I got you, baby." His palm spread across your back, pressing you closer. "Just breathe."

Fuck, he was so sweet you could cry.

He watched you carefully as you came down, reaching over to the nightstand for his bottled water. He made you drink a little, waiting until you were calm before kissing you softly. "That good, huh?"

You pushed playfully against his chest but met his eyes confidently. "So good. Is it like an 'I'm-such-a-virgin' thing or are you just that good at it?"

He granted you a cocky smirk, kissing the tip of your nose before returning the water bottle to the nightstand. "It's definitely all me, let's go with that."

"Stop it," you giggled, as he goosed your ribs, wrestling you into a sensual kiss. As you sucked on his lips, humming contentedly, you pushed your thigh temptingly against his cock, hard and heavy and aching for some relief.

"Can I touch you now?" You asked him seriously, tracing up his inner thigh with your fingertips, giving him the chance to say no.

"I want you to, but -"

"Are you going to tell me I don't have to touch you again?" You sighed, your face adorably screwed up in frustration and confusion. "If you don't want to, just tell me. I would never hold that against you, but why do you think I don't want to -"

He grabbed your wrist and guided your hand to his cock, breathing harshly against your lips. "Touch it. I want you to. But I never want you to think you have to just because I touched you." He swallowed hard.

You nodded slowly, blinking at him sweetly. "I want to. Do you want me to use my mouth? You could show me."

"Baby," he groaned at the tempting proposition, pressing an urgent kiss to your lips. "I want that. I want all of that. Everything." He eased back enough to look into your eyes. "But first, tell me what you wanted when you drove all the way to my hotel tonight."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head slightly, confused. "This. I want you."

"Okay," he responded, his voice soft and his gaze open and gentle. "We can touch each other all night if you want. I want that too. Do you want more than that? Or do you want to wait?" He threaded his fingers through yours. "I know we talked about this when you told me the rules."

Ah, the talk after the talk. The discussion of real ground rules, where you and Santi decided to get tested. Even though you were a virgin, you assumed it couldn't hurt. Both of your tests came back clean. Santiago assured you he'd always used condoms, and told you which ones he typically liked to use. You let him know you'd been on birth control for over a year. (Since you started dating Marcus, to be exact).

Resting his forehead against yours - a move you were coming to love from him - he whispered your name. "It doesn't have to be tonight. It doesn't have to be here just because we're alone. We can be alone again. I wanna make sure we want the same thing."

"I want to," you quietly uttered. "I want to so bad."

"Me too," he breathlessly returned. "But I don't actually have any condoms with me. I thought this would happen at my house. Um - I might have one in my wallet, but it's been a while - "

"I brought the kind of condoms you said. I-is that okay?"

His eyes widened as he realized how prepared you were - how ready to do this. And something deep inside him began to burn with raw want - that he might really be the one to share this with you, and that he would know what it felt like to be inside you after thinking about it nonstop for weeks.

"You're ready." It wasn't a question. Exhaling in a rush, he smiled softly, pressing his mouth to yours.

"Santi, just one more thing," you whispered sweetly against his lips, fingers toying with the hair behind his ears. "I was wondering, and -you can say no, it's okay. But, since it's my first time, I was wondering if we could try it without a condom. Promise you'll say no if you think we shouldn't."

He cursed under his breath, shifting uncomfortably, so fucking hard and ready to push you down on this mattress and fuck you raw, while simultaneously wanting to take you apart, piece by piece, all night long.

"Yeah, baby, yeah, we can do that." He could barely get the words out of his mouth before he was on you, yanking at the remaining ties of your corset to get you naked and under him before his lost his goddam mind.

You kicked your panties the rest of the way off your feet, gasping as he hauled you up just enough to pull you free of your lingerie. He laid you back down and stared at you. Lips kiss swollen and wet, parted and panting, eyes heavy with desire, breasts heaving. He felt drunk on the smell of you, the sight of you bare and wanting, needing him to fuck you.

Finally.

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[steven-grants-world]

I love his pathetic ass so much

Three Day Food & Fuck Weekend [2]

Cecil Dennis x f!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and Cecil take a shower.

Warnings: Cecil talking a lot, Star Trek, kissing, oral sex (f!receiving), hand job, a finger near ass (Cecil receiving), please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1431

"Ohhh, your shower pressure is so nice!” Cecil holds his hand under the stream of water, absolute delight shining on his face. 

You can’t help but smile. 

“And the,” he motions with his other hand, mimicking turning the dials, “the control, panel, thing, is so fancy. Like Star Trek! Wait, they had touch screen, right?” He frowns and then shakes his head. “No, no, the original, Uhura had the twisty buttons, I remember.” 

There is something incredibly endearing about Cecil having a mini passionate conversation with himself, while butt naked. 

“Maybe we could watch some Star Trek later, one of the films?” He asks excitedly. 

“What’s your favourite one?” You say while leaning close to him, you stick out your hand to check the water temperature and Cecil immediately wraps his arms around you, snuggling his face into your neck. 

His stubble tickles and you giggle. 

“I like First Contact best, I think. As a stand alone film.” He pauses. “Maybe. It’s hard.” He sighs like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Star Trek is just so good.” 

You chuckle and pat his head with your dry hand, using it as an excuse to stroke his hair. “That’s very true.” 

He hums an affirmative, leaning into your touch appreciatively. 

You shake your hand so you don’t splash water everywhere, and gently disentangle yourself from Cecil before you step in the shower. 

He waits a beat for you to get in before he quickly follows you, giggling as he ducks his head under the stream of water and then hugs you tight. 

“Thank you for taking a shower with me.” He kisses your cheek. 

“You’re too sweet,” You tap his nose and give him a quick peck. “And you don’t need to say thank you all the time.” 

He looks down, smiling shyly. “I know… I’ll keep saying it though. It’s just… nice.” He shrugs a little, trying to make what he’s saying seem not such a big deal. “I’m not so used to people even entertaining my ideas, let alone going through with them… I was feeling very…” He bites his lip and looks up at you, batting his eyelashes. A look you’ve come to realise is him asking for your help and input. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Hmm.” He nods. “Yeah, I didn’t want to be far away from you, god.” The second the words are out of his mouth he slaps his forehead and laughs, “Wow, needy much?” 

You giggle. “I don’t mind you being needy.” 

“You would. I mean,” he gives you a heartbreakingly sweet smile. “You will.” 

“Nah,” you stroke his cheek. “You’ll get more comfortable, because you know I’m not going anywhere.” 

He swallows, bites his lip as he looks up and to the side. “God, you’re too good to me,” he mutters before kissing you desperately. His arms wrap around you, squeezing your skin as he pushes you back up against the tiles. 

You scrape your fingers along the back of his scalp as you sink your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He shivers pleasantly, whimpering into your mouth as he presses his chest up against yours. 

His semi-hard cock rubs against your thigh and Cecil swallows a deep moan. “Sorry,” he breathes, gulping for air as he pulls back from your lips for a second. 

“Don’t be.” You kiss him back harshly, sliding your hand down his back to squeeze his ass and encourage him to rock against you how he wants. 

He groans musically, wriggling and panting in your arms before he wrenches himself back a fraction and hurriedly drops to his knees. His eyes are so dark as he looks up at you, wide and pleading, his lips swollen and rosy from the kisses. 

“Can I?” He breathes out in a hushed whisper, not caring that the shower is hitting his hair and half of his face from this position. Cecil slides his hands up your legs, just ghosting against your inner knees. The touch is light, a gentle question. 

You nod, heat twisting in your stomach as you look down at him. 

He moans softly, his eyes fluttering closed, long lashes kissing his skin as he presses his lips to your clit. His hands quickly slide up higher so he can part your lips with his thumbs and messily make out with your core. 

You gasp, the air catching in your throat. Your body automatically bucks into the heat of his mouth and the tantalising firmness of his tongue. Cecil moans loudly, the sound running along your skin like a current. He looks up at you lazily, unfocused and already drunk on the taste of you. 

He whimpers sweetly when you sink your fingers into his hair and scrape your nails along his scalp. Doubling down his efforts as he drags his tongue along your clit. 

Pleasure tightens and builds in your stomach, pulling at your nerve endings until you're close to madness. 

Cecil moans constantly, following your body's movements without thinking. If he could stay here forever, it wouldn’t be long enough. 

“Cec, I’m gonna,” you bite your lip, your back arching off from the tiles. 

He presses closer, squeezing your skin under his fingers as he groans, practically vibrating in excitement. 

You moan loudly, shaking as your orgasm washes over you. Cecil swallows eagerly, drinking down the fresh wetness that hits his tongue. He slows his movements, languidly letting you ride out your high until you relax, breathing hard. 

When he looks up at you, he’s grinning, a blissed out look spread across his features. “Sorry, I know we messed around earlier as well…” he gives you a bashful smile, “I just… I just want to make you come all the time.” 

You snort, your legs are like jelly, but still you find the strength to help him to his feet and litter his face with kisses. Slowly, you inch your right hand down his chest to his stomach, just brushing against the tip of his throbbing cock. 

He whines, shivering in your arms. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” You ask sweetly. 

He gulps and giggles, “Don’t,” Cecil presses his face into your neck. “I can’t choose. Everything, I want everything.”

“You can have everything.” You stroke his wet hair and he whines again. 

“Could you… I’m gonna come so fast…” he huffs, a little frustrated with himself and how close he was already. “Could you just?” He puts his hand over yours, wrapping your fingers around his dick and stroking.

“Of course.” You kiss his temple and he preens, humming happily as the sensation sparks up his spine. 

“Could you… as well…” he swallows, panting a little hard already.

“As well?” You grin as you gently move his face back so you can watch him, see the way his lips are parted, how his eyes are closed and forehead is furrowed.

“If it’s… fuck,” he groans and takes your free hand, reaching around to place it on his ass. “Can you?” He swallows again, a flush of embarrassment staining his neck and face. 

“You want me to touch you here?” You say softly as you slip your forefinger in between his ass cheeks and just lightly press at his opening. 

And that’s all it takes. 

“Fuck!” Cecil tenses like he’s been hit with an electric shock, spurting all over your hand and his stomach in long, thick ropes. He clutches onto you for dear life as he moans and swears in your ear, a rush of ‘thank yous’ falling from his lips. 

You hold him close as he recovers and he quickly snuggles into your embrace. 

“Shit,” he practically purrs. “Thank you, fuck, I think I nearly passed out.” 

You giggle. “Please don’t, what if you fell and hit your head?” 

He nods, “I wouldn’t want to make a mess of your bathroom.” He says sincerely.

You laugh loudly, “No, Cec, I mean I don’t want you to get hurt silly.” 

He pauses for a moment as his mind catches up with what you said and then gives you a brilliant smile. “Oh, you’re so amazing!” He kisses you messily, squeezing your body against his as you fight back a fit of giddy laughter. 

“For not wanting you to have to go to the hospital?” 

He nods rapidly. “And for… You know.”

“I know?” 

He nods, pulling a purposefully silly face to amuse you. “Maybe later I’ll manage to hold off long enough for you to get a finger up there?” 

“Maybe even two?” You tease and he groans, biting his lip. 

Thank you for reading!

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[steven-grants-world]

He's having too much fun with this 😅

Mislead

Nathan Batemanl x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals  •  Masterlist • ao3 • want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Nathan, surprisingly, wants to be your plus one.

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing, Teasing, Sexual innuendo, Established Relationship, References to marriage, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1290

“You don’t have to come.” You say, leaning back against the sofa and turning your head so you can look into the kitchen. 

“You got a plus one, right?” Nathan calls back as he checks the oven. 

“Well, yeah…”

“You don’t want me to go?” His voice is even, matter-of-fact. But you know him by now, there’s a touch of hurt buried underneath. 

“That’s not it, I just didn’t think you’d, you know, be interested in a wedding?” You look back to your laptop screen, an old family friend had sent you an electronic save the date.

He pokes his head around the doorframe so he can see you. “I like weddings.”

You frown. “Nathan, that’s a fucking lie.” 

He shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. “I like weddings.” 

You gaup at him for a moment. “You do not.”

“What gave you that idea?” He steps into the room, folds his arms and leans against the wall. 

“Well,” you flounder for a moment, much to his amusement, and then just gesture at him. “You.” 

“Me?” He points at himself. 

“Yes, you.”

“I’m insulted.” He grins and you roll your eyes.

“You are not.”

“You seem to think you know all about me.” He says as he sits next to you, jostling you a fraction more than necessary. You give him a small, playful shove back. 

“I’m not busy then.” Nathan points at the invite on the screen. 

“You really want to come?” 

“Sure.” 

“Nathan-”

“Why do you think I’m lying to you?” 

You regard him for a long moment, trying to work out his angle. “I don’t know.” 

“I don’t lie to you.”

“You do.”

“I mislead, it’s not the same.”

“Fuck off.” You scoff, turning away from him.

He grins, revelling in being a little shit. “I don’t have to go with you if you don’t want me to, but, I mean weddings…” 

You know the next words out of his mouth are going to be bullshit, but you can’t help but ask the question. “Are what?” 

“Everyone’s gonna be hitting on you,” he shakes his head, mock dramatically. “I gotta go with you so I can fend them off.” 

You chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Nah,” he kisses your shoulder before he rests his head on you. “You know I don’t care who you fuck.” 

“Nathan,” you give him another shove. 

“What?” He giggles. “I know no one else can fuck you as well as I can.” 

“Oh my god…”

“Just if you do, record a video for me and-”

You slap your hand over his mouth and he laughs harder. Gently, he takes hold of your wrist, moving you back a fraction so he can kiss your palm. 

“If you want me there,” he says sincerely, “I’d like to go with you.”

“You sure?” 

He nods. “Could be fun. Besides, I’ve got to put this whole ‘I don’t like weddings’ thing to bed.” 

You smile at him as he plays with your hand. “I didn’t mean to insult you, you just… don’t seem like the type.”

“I’m not marriage material?” He quirks an eyebrow up at you and you laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, I bet the pre-nup would be longer than my arm.” 

“No.”

“Yes.” You tease. 

“No. One sentence.” 

“Oh, I get it,” you give him a cheeky look, “it’ll say, ‘Nathan gets to keep everything, end of.’”

He snorts at your impression but shakes his head. “It would say, Nathan keeps all his shares in Blue Book, but you’d get half of any money those shares make, and half of everything else.”

You pause, a little shocked at how honest he seems. 

“I mean, and that’s only because I’m never giving up any of those shares. I’ve got 73%, more than the majority, split that in half, and there’s a chance that someone could try to take control. But,” he shrugs, “I know you’d never do that, or sell them to someone else to do that.” He pauses. “Maybe that isn’t needed.”

“Isn’t needed?”

“In the prenup. Maybe we don’t need one at all.”

“Nathan,” you pause, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to react to his blatant honesty. “What about your… erm, your art?” You gesture at the Pollock behind you, your brain trying to catch up with your racing thoughts.

“What about it?” 

“Won’t you want to keep it?”

“Assuming we’re getting divorced?” He grins, amused at your flusteredness. 

“We’re not married, we’re not even engaged-”

“I could change that right now.”

“Nathan-”

He nods. “You’re right, not very romantic with me here in my shorts and t-shirt.”

“That’s not what I mean.” 

“So you wouldn’t mind if I asked wearing this, just here, on the couch?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as if he’s daring you to say no. 

“What I’m saying is-”

“The Pollock’s a fake anyway.”

“I- Wait, what?” You swallow, not knowing what else to say.

“This one,” he points to the wall, “It’s a fake. I own the real one, but it’s in an art gallery so people can see it.” He shrugs. “This one’s a replica. Which is even better in my opinion, look at it,” he gestures with his chin. “It’s impossible to tell, literally, the guy who did it is a master forger. You know how hard it is to replicate a Pollock? Fucking unreal.” 

He smiles at your surprised expression. 

“He nearly went to jail for fraud, but I pulled some strings. Paid some people off. He’s done all the art in here. Except for the one in your office.” 

The print of Cineraria by Van Gogh Nathan had given you for your birthday hung pride of place on the wall, he had gifted it to you before you even started dating. 

“That’s the original.” He says it so offhandedly you nearly don’t catch it.

“It’s the fucking what?” 

He looks calmly at you. “The original. You said you liked it.” 

“Nathan.” 

“You’re saying my name a lot today.” He grins and kisses your cheek. 

You struggle for words for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me it was the original?” 

“You never asked.”

“Na-”

“I thought you wouldn’t accept it.” He says softly, “I wanted you to keep it.” 

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t it be in an art museum, like you said about…” Realisation dawns. “Don’t tell me-”

He smiles a cherish cat smile. “The fake’s in the museum? Well-”

You put your fingers over his lips. “I don’t want to know.” 

He chuckles and nods. 

You sigh. “How much is that painting worth?” 

He opens his mouth to speak and you stop him again. 

“Actually, I don’t want to know… It’s got insurance, right?”

Nathan nods. “And I know a guy that could repair any damage if something happened to it. But nothing’s gonna happen, so don’t worry about it.” 

You scoff, but smile and lean back when he puts his arm around your shoulders. “Easier said than done…”

He kisses the top of your head. “So, can I go to this wedding?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t get them any priceless artwork as gifts and tell them it’s a print, alright?” 

“What if I tell them it’s the real thing?” 

“Oh my god…” You bury your head in your hands and he giggles. “I forget how fucking disgustingly rich you are.” 

“That’s why I know you don’t love me for my money,” he teases, and kisses your temple. “I’ll buy them a house or something as a wedding gift.”

You pull your hands back from your face to give him a look, “Nathan,” but he’s already grinning, having far too much fun winding you up. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Two houses.” You say. 

“Whatever you want.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[steven-grants-world]

This is so good, Marc is perfect for Ghostface 🥵🔥

I loved your ghostface Jake Lockley halloween treat last year and wanted to know if you could do it again for the other two? Not sure how Steven fits for a ghostface role but Jake and Marc definitely do. Now I'm asking could you do another one but for Marc then? Maybe include a small fight or anything that would be great

Jake as Ghostface is cool BUT MARC-- uff get that man the costume already! 😩😮‍💨

I think Steven would try it if you convince him😌

Unusual encounter

Moon Knight masterlist

Ghostface!Marc Spector x afab!reader

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, pred/prey dynamic, dead dove do not eat, Ghostface is its own warning, dark themes, mild threats, mature themes, horror themes, knife play, light choking, p in v sex, tension, dub-con, dull opening.

Summary: He changed his mind and had other plans for you.

The tv brought a nice background noise as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Some raindrops splashed against the windows, the noise made you tired as suddenly the buzzing of your phone with an unknown message took you out of the trance. 

Hi who is this?

You read the text with confusion but perhaps someone just messaged the wrong number. Still you decided to answer. 

I think you got the wrong number 

You drummed your fingers on your knee, listening to the occasional rain drops hit the windows as you waited for the response. 

Really? Can I call you to make sure? 

You didn’t know how to response and somehow you felt as if being watched. You turned and looked out of the window, seeing nothing but darkness. 

No, you’ve got the wrong number buddy 

You went back to scrolling through your feed, feeling slightly nervous but not wanting to pay any more attention to whoever is trying to make fool out of you. 

Then a minute later another message: 

Pretty sure I’ve got the right person 

A slight shiver ran down your spine as you read the message but before you could answer, another message followed. 

From what I’m looking at, you seem like the right person 

Immediately you felt a sense of fear come over you. Reaching for the remote you turned off the tv and got up, moving to the window but seeing nothing outside. 

Another message came:

So are you gonna call me?

You quickly typed a response. 

Why do you want to call me? You don’t even know me 

The answer came almost immediately. 

I just want to talk and maybe we can get to know each other?

When you didn’t answer another text came. 

Come on, you’re alone and I can give you some company 

You became scared wondering how this someone knew you were alone and without hesitation you blocked the number. Taking another peek outside the window, again seeing nothing but darkness. It was quiet, almost too quiet for your liking and you could feel something was going to happen and before you knew it, your phone rang showing an unknown caller. 

With a sigh of annoyance you decided to answer. “What?” 

“Hello.” You were met with the calm and eerily distorted sound of a voice changer. “Hey did you block me?” The question sounded genuine, but it was clear he was trying to make a fool out of you. 

You started losing your cool. “What’s with that stupid voice changer?” 

“You don’t like it? You know if you’d open the door for me I could show you my real voice.” He said in a flirtier tone.

“Stop bothering me.” You sighed. 

“Why? Don’t you want some friendly company?” 

You scoffed. “No. I’m gonna hang up now and don’t try calling me again, creep.” 

“Honey if I were you I’d think twice about hanging up.” His voice was firmer now. 

You took another peek out of the window, getting more nervous by the second. “Maybe I’ll call the police on your ass too.” You threatened determined. 

“Yeah maybe.” He trailed off. “Think the police will be there before I will?” His voice was completely calm. “Shitting your pants yet? You look scared.” He chuckled lowly.

You moved away from the window, checking your front door. “Where are you?” 

There was a moment of silence before he answered. “Closer to you than the police ever will be, sweetheart.” 

There was a faint clicking noise coming from your window sounding as if someone was tapping a knife against the glass. You immediately ran towards it but nothing was there, you felt like going crazy. 

“Where are you, fucker.” 

He chuckled. “Open the window and poke your head out, then you’ll see me.” His voice was still as calm as if he got nothing to lose. 

But suddenly there was a loud bang coming from your front door, the sound made you yelp and clutch your phone tightly. 

“Aw, screaming suits you, you should do it more often. Maybe I could make you scream?” He laughed before hanging up and another loud noise came from the front door, this one sounding brutal, then with another one you heard a crash and the faint squeak of the door along with heavy footsteps.

Wasting no time, you ran into your room, locking the door and hid inside your closet, keeping the door open just a little bit to look through the slit.

For a while there was no sound, you weren’t sure if he heard you, then the heavy steps got louder, getting closer before they stopped. Now the only thing separating you from him was the simple door of your room.

There was a quiet pause before you heard a grunt of effort, and something heavy connecting with the door, presumably his foot and it swung open. It was silent except for his heavy steps and faint breathing. He walked past your hiding spot and you catched a glimpse of him. He wore a Ghostface costume, once you see the mask it's not easy to forget it.

You couldn't see what he was doing but you could hear the occasional noises from him searching. Keeping your breathing steady and quiet proved more difficult than you thought it would be.

He walked past the closet again this time stopping and looking at it. From your perspective it looked like he was staring right at you through that haunting mask.

Fortunately he didn't seem to have noticed you and walked out of your view. You took that moment to let out a breath of relief you held in and kept listening for further movements.

It was deadly silent, too silent. You had no idea where he went.

In a flash he suddenly reappeared in front of your spot, ripping the closet door open. “Gotcha!” he moved smoothly, one hand around your throat, pushing you against the wall and the other held the knife up which he held loosely and brought it closer to your face.

“You almost managed to get away. Almost.” He said eerily and now he wasn’t using the voice changer anymore, it was his actual voice.

When you tried to fight him he squeezed your throat, making it harder for you to breath and almost cutting off your air supply.

“Don’t fight it, pretty.” He almost cooed, gently pressing the knife against your cheek, the sharp tip making you flinch.

“Wouldn’t want me to accidentally cut you, hmm?” He tilted his head slightly, his grip on your throat easing now. “But maybe you do?”

He dragged the knife down, not hard enough to break skin until it was against your throat. “Not so tough now, huh?” He huffed out in amusement. “Cat got your tongue, hm?”

You were terrified to the point where you found yourself unable to speak and your lower lip was trembling. His hand moved up, grasping your jaw, his gloved thumb smoothed over your trembling lip.

“Are you scared?” He asked in a low and mocking tone before he grabbed onto your shoulders and pushed you out of the closet, his strength blew all air out of your lungs and the force of his push made you stumble and fall on the ground.

“You should be.” His tone was colder now and he turned to face you, holding the knife tightly.

He made no move to pounce on you and you immediately took it, getting up and even then he didn’t try to stop you, he just looked at you as if taking pleasure in your attempt to flee. You ran out, making a sprint for the front door.

You could hear the thudding of his shoes on the floor, they became louder and louder...

Before you knew it his arms wrapped around you, he managed to pick you up despite your constant wiggling and threw you onto the ground. You were panting with exhaustion, if you’d try to make a run again you couldn’t even get up before he catched you again.

“I almost thought you’d make it.” He chuckled and knelt down beside you. “By the way you can call me Marc.”

Surprisingly to you, he began removing his hood and mask, revealing his face to you that was coated in a thin layer of sweat, his brown eyes were hooded and his curls damp as he looked down at you. He was pretty handsome.

“Gotta admit, I’m starting to like you.” Marc huffed out a breath, then got closer to you. “And it made me reconsider something.”

His tongue trailed out to wet his lips. “Maybe we can come to an arrangement?” A small, dirty grin became visible.

“What?” You asked confused.

His grin widened. “I think you know.” he looked around before getting up and pulled you with him. Marc dragged you into the living room where he made you sit on the couch before plopping down himself and made himself comfortable.

“Let’s start with you undressing for me.” He said in a commanding tone, his eyebrow raising expectantly. 

You weren’t quite sure if you wanted to comply but you did it anyway, hesitantly undressing yourself until you were only in your underwear. Marc watched you with an amused smirk, his eyes trailing appreciatively over your body. Once you were done, he patted his lap. “Come on, get over here.” 

As you moved to straddle him, his gloved hands went to your waist, the material felt soft and warm against your skin as he guided you in place. You felt him shift underneath you, spreading his legs wider and he pulled the black robe back to reveal the black pants he was wearing. Marc’s gaze roamed over you, his hands running up and down your sides. “I already knew you’re pretty but damn.” He muttered under his breath, then looked back at your face with a sinister smile, seeing how uneasy you are. 

“What, still thinkin’ you’re gonna die?” He gently squeezed you, one hand moved down, pulling out the knife once more and moved it to your panties. “Nah, we’re past the kill, don’t you think honey?” Marc quickly sliced through the material of your panties, ripping them off and tossing them away and put the knife aside. 

Your breath hitched slightly when you heard him pulling the zipper of his pants down and you realized what’s going to happen. 

Marc stroked his half hard cock, his gaze wandering over your body as he did until he was fully hard. He grabbed your waist and positioned you over his cock, the tip pressing against your cunt. “No need to rush.” He assured you, slowly stretching your open with his tip. He was content enough to just fuck you with his tip and soon enough a moan slipped out of you, your wetness started coating his tip and he pushed deeper into you. 

You adjusted your position to accommodate him. As you got more used to him stretching you, you started moving while he was still partially guiding you. 

Marc’s lust filled eyes catched yours. “Yeah just like that, you’re doing great.” He praised, his head resting against the headrest of the couch. He watched you move, his hands barely holding onto you, your pace increased deliberately, and he watched it with pure contentment. The only noises in the room were his and your occasional groans. 

Marc suddenly squeezed you. “I’m getting close.” He rasped, his mouth was slightly agape, his hips thrusting upwards to meet your movements and his breathing became more frequent. 

You were getting close too and quickened your pace more and Marc did the same, thrusting upwards more urgently as both of you neared orgasm. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly with each move, another squeeze of him gave you the rest and you clamped down on him, your juices coating his dick while kept thrusting a bit more until he filled you up with a shaky groan. 

“Fuck...” He drawled, looking up at your exhausted but satisfied expression, his hand came up to brush the sweat off his forehead. 

You got off from him and sat next to him on the couch, Marc tucked his softened cock back into his pants and stood up, grabbing his knife and mask and turned to look back at you with a smirk. “You know I when I told you I would make good company I wasn’t lying.” 

Marc took in your exhausted form on the couch, pleased that he made a mess out of you even if he wouldn’t admit right away that he wasn’t planning on doing this at first. 

With a final look at you and a pleased smirk on his face he turned to leave but not before stopping and looking at you over his shoulder. 

“We could make this a frequent thing if you’re up for it. I still got your number.”

Marc did not wait for your answer, he walked out, leaving you alone on the couch and to process what just happened.

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

Tags: @steven-grants-world @nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @buckyssugarchick @nekoyin @ingoldthewizard @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @stevendameron @klillaah @xxjust-a-kidxx @alexxavicry

[steven-grants-world]

I’m freaking out with how good he looks!!!

[steven-grants-world]

MOON KNIGHT S01E01: The Goldfish Problem | dir. Mohamed Diab

[steven-grants-world]

Thank you for the bonk @ivystoryweaver and I bonk you right back 🥰

BONKED

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It’s like this

[steven-grants-world]

he’s tired.

[steven-grants-world]

Oooh, she's very eager to be with Santi 😏 I mean...I don't blame her 😎

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #8: Should I Stay...or Should I Go?

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Summary: Feeling like you and Santiago are under scrutiny takes a toll on your summer project. Stolen moments are all you have until you take matters into your own hands.

Content: kissing, fluff, flirting, innuendo, bit of family drama

wc: 2.5k

If you had your way, you would spend the next several days ignoring Jace. Just the sight of him made your body tense and your skin heat up. However, your summer project was so important to you that you did just the opposite. The angrier you allowed yourself to appear in front of him, the more right he would think he was.

So, you went full tilt, planning your brotherly camping trip, inviting Jace to the point of almost insisting he come along, despite how much he disliked the outdoors.

Of course, he criticized the planning of a camping trip for this time of year, complaining about how unbearable the weather would be. You explained that you would be living in a different state during the most ideal weather, so it was this or nothing. And just when you thought your trip might be spared his presence, he agreed to tag along, fake smile and all.

This was after you triple checked with Benny that it was okay. Because something about the way Jace and Benny rubbed each other the wrong way was really starting to rub you the wrong way. If Jace was practically slut shaming you to your face, while you were stil a virgin, no less, what subtle digs was he taking at your gay brother?

Will traveled fairly often, but was he really clueless to the way Jace was acting? Or were you overreacting?

Santiago returned from his consulting gig, eager to see you. No sexy jokes were made about your corset or sex toys. He only wanted to know you were okay. You asked for a little time to figure out how to follow the rules you set. Now, more than ever, you didn't want your brothers to know about Santiago.

As if sensing you needed some kind of intervention, Will suggested that all the guys be invited camping - whoever could make it, and you were thrilled. Not only would there be more people to distract from Jace, but maybe Santi could go. Seeing him in a group setting presented its own set of challenges, but you had some practice now, you could do this.

You just wanted to be around him again.

Maybe Jace would bail. Or perhaps he would pal around with Frankie and Angelica, if they could go.

Benny agreed and you didn't give a shit if Jace agreed, so the plan was set. It was too bad Diego and Elena were still on their honeymoon. Anna wasn't really the outdoorsy type and Fiona had a big test in her summer class to prepare for.

S: 'Hey, I heard this hot girl is sleeping in my tent this weekend.'

'That sounds fun, you should get naked in your sleeping bag together'

S: 'nah she keeps me on the DL'

'You're such a dad'

S: 'I'm not gonna respond to that in the way I would like to'

'Probably a good idea. we have 3 tents. Me and Ang, you with Ben and Will, and Frankie with Jace'

S: 'Why did you do frankie like that?'

'Because Frankie is the only guy who can tolerate Jace's bullshit at the moment. Will said he would probably trade him, tho. Babysit Jace so Frankie can hang with you guys.'

S: 'Why don't I bring my big tent? It's big enough for all 5 guys. until benny farts, that is.'

'I can't even imagine some of the stories you guys have'

S: 'Trust me, you do not want to know'

'What's the worst place you've ever slept?'

S: 'Trust me, you do not want to know'

'Fair. Is it classified?'

S: 'It is actually. I can tell you it was very painful and uncomfortable'

'i'm sorry. It's kind of hot tho'

S: 'Are you a sadist? You want me in pain?'

'lol no I mean you and your classified missions and your security consulting and combat training. Hot'

S: 'My skill sets and experiences haven't helped me find a woman yet. So not that hot i guess'

'Believe me, it is. I'm sorry you got hurt tho.'

S: 'Thank you'

'Did my brothers ever get hurt? Like bad? Is that classified too?'

S: 'Did you ever ask them?'

'I guess not directly. I heard Benny say that Will got shot in the side. I saw the scar, obviously. You guys all have scars.'

S: 'Too many'

'Sorry I got all serious with combat memories. I should have asked first. I know that stuff can be triggering. So I'm truly sorry.'

S: 'Thank you for saying that. That's thoughtful of you. I don't mind talking to you, about some stuff. Stuff I can talk about. You're family.'

You smiled to yourself.

S: 'But not in the creepy way. Not like a sister way.'

'I definitely don't think of you as a brother. Benny asked me the night he got drunk, about how I saw you and Frankie.

S: 'uh oh'

'He asked if you were more like a big brother, a fun cousin or an uncle. I was like uhhhhh none of those.'

S: 'So what am I then?'

'Idk. It's like a feeling. Like when you see me and you always say -there she is! or There's my girl. yk? That feeling of like, oh there's that important person to me. But it doesn't have a name. Or a title. Just like, there's Santi. My Santi.'

You skin prickled with anticipation as you waited for his reply.

'That sounds really intense when I type it out. Sorry if it's weird.'

S: 'We talked about this. Don't apologize for saying what you think. I knew what you meant.'

'Good. I like your idea btw. About the big tent for the guys. Thanks'

S: 'np. Can't wait to see you.'

'Me too. I miss you.'

S: 'Me too'

Angelica and Frankie's son Vicente came down with a double ear infection, causing Angelica to bail on camping. Frankie offered to stay, but she just couldn't bear to leave her sweet baby Vinnie. She insisted Frankie go ahead and have some fun.

Mercifully, Jace also flaked, blaming the humid weather and the idea of sharing a tent with "the army guys". Maybe he really didn't want to go in the first place, but you suspected he declined after realizing his one ally was out of the picture.

So two smaller tents were packed. One for you and your two brothers and the other for Frankie and Santiago. Probably for the best, since you wouldn't sleep a wink in the same tent as Santi, even with three other guys there, should you pack the big tent.

Camping was maybe turning out to be the absolute highlight of your summer. Your favorite people in the world were there with you. Sure, you missed Angelica and Diego, but you were closest to the four guys sitting around the fire, sweating their asses off and roasting marshmallows.

They kept everything pretty rated PG-13, but did end up sharing a few "war stories" and other antics from their years together. They weren't shy about mentioning Santiago sleeping with a couple of informants either, which somehow didn't surprise you.

Despite your attempts not to, you found your eyes catching Santi's, watching the corner of his mouth curl. The firelight danced over the angles of his face, mesmerizing you. He was stunning.

Something in you seemed lighter than you felt at the wedding or the day everyone went boating over to the island. Still, you longed for a stolen moment with Santiago, just a second to feel his arms around you.

The opportunity finally presented itself once you decided to wander away and use the restroom. All four of the guys tensed at the idea of you going off into the woods on your own, but it definitely wasn't your first time camping.

"If I'm not back in ten, send out a search party," you joked, brandishing your flashlight.

Five minutes later, Santiago left to check on you, asking the guys to finish setting up the tents. No one thought to question it because, so far, no one in this group was suspicious. And Santi had emerged as a natural leader among the four of them for years.

Thankfully, you were finished up and all sanitized by the time Santiago found you.

"Hey, it's just me. You all done out here?" You saw his dancing flashlight beam before you could make out his frame in the dark.

"Yeah. Search party already?" You chuckled.

"They're setting up the tents," he told you, a bit breathlessly as he finally made it to your spot.

"Okay. Should we head back?"

"Hang on." He grasped your elbow, switching off his flashlight and stashing it in his pocket. Then he reached for yours and did the same. "Come here," he whispered against your cheek, pulling you by your arms against his body. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, melting against him, eyes closing against a stark curtain of darkness.

"Just give me sixty seconds. I don't want to break rule number one. I just want a minute."

"Okay," you agreed, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in his neck.

He folded you close, swaying slightly, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

As soon as you felt his lips on your skin, you turned your cheek to feel more of him. "I missed you," you whispered, brushing your lips over his.

He captured your lips, kissing you sweetly, tasting you slowly.

You gasped out a soft moan, opening your mouth and sliding your tongue over his. The familiar taste of him tinged with the slightest bit of sweat intoxicated you utterly. For just a second, he gave you what you wanted, hungrily licking into your mouth, shuddering as you slipped your hands into his damp curls and pulled him closer still.

He groaned, pressing into the curve of your back as you curled against him, swallowing your sweet sounds as you gave into your desires under a curtain of darkness.

He pulled away slowly, mouth open, panting against yours, brushing his lips over yours once, twice more before easing back.

A soft sigh of pleasure left your lips, and he could imagine them, plump and kissed and flushed. His grip on you loosened, featherlight touches traveling up and down your back as he breathed you in.

"Rule number one," he finally managed, breath stuttering as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. "Let me take you back."

"Okay," you breathlessly uttered, trying to summon the will to release him, heart melting at how he tried so sincerely to follow your rules. Or at least acknowledge them.

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head as if trying to convince himself. "Come on, sweetheart." He fished your flashlight out of his pocket. Turning it on, he briefly shined it in your eyes, teasingly blinding you.

"I hate you," you laughed, slugging him on the arm, thankful to still be hanging on to him. "All I can see are green spots."

"Couldn't resist," he chuckled, lighting the way with his own flashlight. He had to do something to change the mood. Otherwise he would push you up against a tree and keep going until he heard those sweet sounds you made when you came for him.

"Come on, I got you." He took your hand, sliding his fingers through yours reassuringly.

The two of you stumbled back to camp, laughing and joking around, miraculously returning only minutes after Santi left to find you.

Santi took hold of your hand the "regular" way, without fingers entangled, and announced your presence to the guys. "Found her!" He called, raising your hands in the air like some kind of Olympic champions.

Then he squeezed your hand one more time before letting go.

The next day was blazing hot, so the five of you spent the entire day in the water. Without Diego, there was no boat, so you swam, tossed around a ball and played a few games.

And you had probably your favorite day of the summer so far. You didn't feel like anyone was watching you or judging you. You didn't feel like you went the whole day and never really got to talk to Santi. It didn't seem like he was avoiding you, the way you'd felt at the wedding.

It just felt like you and your favorite guys.

You just really, really wanted to kiss one of them.

You decided to confess to Fiona and Anna. Well, partially confess. You were technically invoking their name to perpetuate your secret, lying about being with them when you were usually with Santiago. You saw them a lot as well, but...just not always.

The deal was: you wouldn't tell them who exactly you were seeing until the end of the summer, after you moved off to grad school. But it was still pretty hot gossip that you were secretly seeing someone and about to lose your virginity.

"If we guess who it is, you have to tell us," Fiona insisted.

"And you have to tell us if the sex is good," Anna added, "which is what really matters."

"No and no," you laughed. "I'll tell you at the end of the summer. I just wanted to apologize for using your name to hide what I was doing. That wasn't cool. I'm sorry."

The girls weren't actually mad, agreeing to exchange your cover story for pedicures and brunch, if only for a chance to spend the day with you. It was also lovely to get away from so many guys.

Anna joked that your cover would be firmed up with them in your corner, backing your play, so maybe you also owed them a movie date with popcorn and Reese's Pieces.

"You're really milking this for all it's worth, aren't you?"

"Why do you think she's going to law school?" Fiona reminded you. "Everything is a negotiation."

"Fine," you agreed, amused by it all. And feeling like a load was lifted now that there were a fewer people to keep secrets from.

By the time you felt like you collected yourself after Jace's accusation, Santiago had to leave town again.

Besides a few stolen kisses and tender moments, he hadn't touched you since the wedding.

This time, he was staying in a hotel. You packed a bag, laid out your cover story and drove out of town right behind him.

Maybe it was too much, but he agreed to this project, and summer was racing on.

You wouldn't ambush him - not completely.

As you sat in the hotel parking lot, your heart thundered so loud you could hear it in your ears. You grabbed your phone.

'Hi, are you doing anything?'

S: 'Nope, just watching tv in my hotel room. Had a dinner thing tonight. The consult officially starts tomorrow. What are you up to?'

'I'm here.'

S: 'Here where? Like here?'

'Yeah. I'm at your hotel. I want to see you. But I wanted to give you a chance to say no before I knocked on your door. It's okay if you aren't cool with it.’

Your phone buzzed as his name flashed across your screen.

"Baby, get in here."

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist • Santiago Masterlist • Main Masterlist Join my tag list • fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics • updates blog @ivystoryupdates

[steven-grants-world]

“Gi-hun died, but at least his death meant all these characters got to live.” I am going to be very honest and say I don’t give a fuck about these characters who “got to live because Gi-hun killed himself”. Sorry for not caring about side characters when I watch the show for the main characters.

Like. Sure it’s cool they survived because a character who was already suicidal—and had explicitly attempted suicide before—killed himself so a random baby he met a few days ago could live. But you can’t expect audiences to care about random characters, or that cgi baby, when they watch the show for the main characters whom you ruined and butchered in the final season just for some cheap propaganda.

Gi-hun deserved so much better. Lee Jung-jae deserved so much better. No, I won’t shut up about this

[steven-grants-world]

whoever made oscar wear the rolled up sleeves, gloves, v-neck, thigh holster combo for poe dameron needs to be the fit designer for every movie/show out there

dumpy alert

[steven-grants-world]

heyy i have a request!

Joe Goldberg going home to reader after a long week of work. Reader shows that she’s been missing and upset that he’s gone for so long, which makes him melt and decided to award her with the best sex and aftercare everrr 😩?

Never Again

TW: NSFW smut, f!receiving oral

———

You hear the door creak open just past midnight.

You don’t even look up at first. You’ve been curled up on the couch for hours, wearing his hoodie and nothing else, lit only by the TV you haven’t really been watching. Your chest is tight. Your throat aches. You feel needy, pathetic, ridiculous.

But the second you hear his footsteps, something in your body stirs.

“Hey,” Joe says softly, his voice rough with exhaustion. You look up—and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs. Tousled hair. Wrinkled shirt. Tired eyes that soften the second they land on you.

“You’re late,” you whisper, voice thin. It wasn’t meant to come out like that. So wounded.

He drops his bag. “I know, I’m sorry.”

You blink fast. “It’s been six days.”

“I didn’t want to leave you that long.”

You bite your lip. You don’t mean to—but tears prick your eyes anyway.

And that’s all it takes.

Joe is across the room in two long strides, kneeling in front of you like it hurts him to see you like this. His hands cup your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over your skin. “Sweetheart…”

You sniff, but it comes out like a whimper. “I missed you.”

He leans in, kisses your knee. Then your thigh. Then higher.

“You missed me that bad?” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and reverent. “You look like you’ve been breaking without me.”

“I have,” you whisper, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging just enough to make him look up at you.

There’s something feral in his gaze. Something desperate. Worshipful.

Joe kisses you—hard. Mouth open, teeth scraping your bottom lip, tongue sliding over yours like he’s trying to reclaim you, remind you who you belong to. He lifts you with one arm, lays you flat across the couch, and presses his body over yours.

You’re gasping before he’s even inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, sliding a hand between your thighs. “You’re soaking.”

“You were gone so long…”

His fingers slip into you like they never left. Two of them, curling deep while his thumb rubs just right. You arch under him, legs falling open without hesitation.

“I waited for you,” you whimper. “Didn’t touch myself. Not once.”

Joe growls—an actual, low, animalistic sound in his throat.

“You didn’t?” He kisses your neck, nips your collarbone. “You were just walking around all needy? Dripping? Thinking about me fucking you?”

You nod, already squirming. “I needed you, Joe.”

“Oh, baby…” His voice breaks. “I’ll give you everything.”

And he does.

He strips slow, lets you see how hard he is for you, lets you feel it press hot and heavy against your thigh as he settles between your legs.

Then he pushes into you.

It’s almost too much at once. You cry out, clinging to his shoulders as he stretches you open, fills every inch. He doesn’t move yet—just holds you there, locked around him, breathing hard into your neck.

“You feel that?” he whispers. “That’s mine. All of this—mine.”

And then he fucks you.

Deep. Methodical. Possessive.

One arm under your lower back to hold you still, the other gripping the couch beside your head for leverage. His thrusts make your breath hitch, make your eyes roll back. You’re already close—embarrassingly close.

“Let go,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You waited all week. Let me give it to you.”

You come with a cry, clenching around him so tight it nearly knocks the air from his lungs. He doesn’t stop. Just fucks you through it—slower now, like he’s savoring the way you pulse around him, how wet and hot and his you are.

When he finally pulls out, it’s just to lift you into his arms and carry you to bed.

You’re still shaking when he lays you down. Still breathless. But he’s not done.

Joe kneels between your legs, eyes dark, voice low. “One more.”

And then his mouth is on you.

You don’t remember how many times you come.

Just the heat of his tongue. The way he moans against you. How gentle his hands are when they hold your thighs open, and how firm his voice is when he says, “That’s it, sweetheart. That’s my good girl.”

Afterward, he runs you a bath. Washes your hair. Dresses you in your favorite shirt.

And when you’re curled up in his arms under the blankets, dazed and wrecked and safe, he presses his lips to your temple.

“I’ll never leave you that long again.”

You almost believe him.

[steven-grants-world]

So sweet 🥰❤

𐙚 Strawberry Kiss 𐙚

Blurb ♥︎

Seong Gi-hun x You

Summary: a simple picnic, shared strawberries, and a kiss sweeter than either expected.

Warnings: alcohol consumption (soju).

𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚 𐙚

It’s uncomplicated — no fancy plans, no glowing cityscape — just a worn blanket laid out under a tree, with Gi-hun holding a bottle of soju and a bashful smile. “It’s not much,” he says, handing you a basket filled with strawberries and a melting chocolate bar. “but I wanted it to be sweet… like you.”

You giggle, feeling your heart stir at the genuine warmth in his voice. He carefully pours the soju, and you sit close — knees barely touching, cheeks glowing, wrapped in easy, comfortable conversation. The strawberries are sweet, the chocolate melting softly, but nothing matches the way Gi-hun’s eyes hold you — like he’s etched this moment into memory, quietly holding back hope.

He asks softly, offering you a strawberry. “Do you always smile like that? Like the weight of the world lifts when you do.”

You bite into the strawberry, your lips gently grazing his fingers. He swallows nervously before smiling — a genuine, tender smile.

He murmurs softly, his voice almost blending with the breeze. “I’m really glad it’s you.”

You lean closer, strawberry sweetness lingering on your lips, and gently press a tender kiss to his — tentative at first, then growing warm and confident.

As you pull away, he’s grinning as if it’s the very first kiss he’s ever known.

[steven-grants-world]

Santi is so flirty, I'm sure when he comes back they're gonna be all over each other 🥵

I wonder what Jace is hiding that Santi also knows about 🤔

Summer Project

Brothers' Best Friend!Santiago Garcia x Younger Sister!virgin!Reader

Issue #7: Brothers...or Bosses?

previous chapter | next chapter Summer Project Masterlist | Santiago Masterlist | Main Masterlist Join my tag list | fic archive @ivy-just-my-fics | updates blog @ivystoryupdates

Summary: Santi is out of town so you text and call, the Millers have a family night where secrets are revealed

Content: food mentions, innuendo, mentions of oral and sex toys, family time, drinking, family angst and drama, Santi is trying to be the most supportive

wc: 3.5k

S: 'Hey, I wanted you to know I have to go out of town for a few days.'

Santiago mostly did security consulting for a living, which occasionally required him to travel. Will actually traveled a bit more often, due to his army recruiting speaking engagements.

'Okay. Thanks for telling me. When do you leave?'

S: 'In the morning. Wanna come over tonight?'

'Can't. Promised Will we would have Miller only time.’

S: ‘What’s that look like?’

‘It’s Benny’s turn to choose. I think he wants to go bowling then have a drinking contest.’

S: ‘You’re having a drinking contest with your brothers?’

‘You think I can’t handle it?' You never got drunk.

S: ‘of course you can but do your brothers know that? Also, Jace in a drinking contest?’

‘He’s tougher than he looks’

S: ‘If you say so.’

‘You’re right, he’ll be lights out before midnight’

A few minutes passed before he texted again.

S: ‘It feels weird that I won’t see you for a week. Kind of got used to you being home for the summer.’

‘Yeah. Helps with the secrecy tho. Where are you going?’

S: ‘To my sister’s. The consult is about 40 min from her house so I’ll just stay with her.’

‘Omg i haven’t seen her in forever! Tell her i said hi.’

S: ‘Ok i will'

‘I gotta change and go bowling.’

S: ‘Ok have fun’

‘Drive safe tomorrow. Call me if you get highway hypnosis’

S: ‘It’s only 3 hours away. Also you sound like my mom’

‘Call me anyway’

S: ‘So bossy’

‘You’re the bossy one remember?’

S: ‘You like it tho’

‘Being bossed around?’

S: ‘Admit it’

‘Never’

S: ‘We’ll see when you come over to my house as soon as i get back’

‘Who says I’m coming over?’

S: ‘The only person who knows what you taste like.’

Holy shit. Shots fired.

‘Touché’

S: ‘Wear those panties again’

‘The ones from the wedding?’

S: ‘Yeah’

‘There’s a matching corset you never even saw’

S: ‘Wear that too’

‘You could have seen it that night but you were too busy dancing with stalker bridesmaid Barbie. Your loss’

S: ‘So jealous’

‘Diego’s cousin was glad i was available all night tho’

S: ‘Nice try. Can’t make me jealous’

‘Of course not’

S: ‘He didn’t hear the sounds you made when you came on my tongue. So, not jealous.’

‘Damn. You are obsessed with my vagina’

S: ‘Guilty’

‘Are you hard right now?’

S: ‘No, I’m not 18’

‘Too bad. I’m wet. Guess I’ll try my vibrator’

S: ‘Think of me when you come’

‘What else is new?’

S: ‘Wait seriously?’

‘yes, seriously. Idk if you noticed but you’re kind of hot’

S: ‘Thanks. You know what, bring the vibrator too. I gotta see this’

‘Which one? I have 3’

S: ‘You hide 3 vibrators from your brothers? Brave’

‘Do not talk about my brothers in the same sentence as my sex toys. Hang on I’m gonna throw up’

S: ‘Oops killed the vibe. No pun intended. I’m old and don’t know any better’

‘You are so old. But unfortunately so fucking hot that i don’t care’

S:‘Thanks, you too’

‘Old?’

S: ‘No. Fucking hot. And yes, I’m hard.’

‘Maybe you should borrow one of my toys’

S: ‘I have my own thanks’

‘Then why do i need to bring mine?’

S: ‘Because i said so’

'Oh speaking of bossing, don't text me tonight. Too risky with my brothers looking over my shoulder.'

S: 'Yes ma'am'

The Miller bowling team might be a formidable match against any another team. But since it was just the four of you, a little friendly competition landed you on Benny's team and Jace on Will's. Mostly because Benny and Jace argued all the time for absolutely no reason, except for middle child reasons.

It also worked out because the four of you knew Will was, by far, the best bowler and Jace was easily the worst.

The drinking started at the bowling alley, with a pitcher of beer, some soft pretzels and hot wings. Jace behaved cautiously, as he was prone to do, but loosened up after a couple drinks. Soon enough, between turns, you all starting talking about Diego's wedding, joking about how funny Angelica was with her pretend jealousy, as if Frankie would ever give her anything to worry about.

"Did you see Pope disappearing all night? What was that about?" Benny asked.

"Yeah, who was he with, I wonder," Jace cryptically added, tapping his chin suspiciously.

"Probably hooking up with my bridesmaid," Will chuckled. "She was all over him. Kept asking me about him."

You almost choked on your pretzel.

"You okay, Ducky?" Will asked you, patting your back supportively.

"No, actually." You cleared your throat and took a swig of beer. "Not with you guys talking about hookups. Gross."

"Aw, come on, I thought you didn't want us to treat you like 'just a little sister'." Benny prodded, leaving his seat beside Jace to sit down with you and Will, bumping his arm into yours. "What do you think Pope was up to?"

Rolling your eyes, you let out a bored sigh. "I don't care what Santiago was doing. I was too busy thinking about Diego's cousin. But if you tell D, I will deny it."

"Yeah, that sounds totally convincing," Jace said, nodding at you with mock seriousness.

"Lay off, Jace," Benny retorted, "and try to remember that Angelica is a married mother. Wasn't she your focus the entire night?"

"Benjamin Miller, that was below the belt," Will scolded, reaching around your shoulders to smack his brother on the back of the head.

"What else is new?" Jace grumbled, standing up and grabbing his bowling ball to take his turn. "I can't be friends with a woman without you giving me shit?"

"Yeah, not funny, Benny," you added. A weak defense for Jace at best.

"Sorry, buddy." Benny held up his hands in surrender. "Cheap shot."

"Yeah, let Frankie hear your 'cheap shot.' He'll kick your ass," Will reminded him, "best friend or not."

"Thank you. Exactly," Jace agreed, bowling his turn. Gutter ball. Naturally.

"Bro, seriously." Benny stood up and clapped Jace on the shoulder. "My bad. I didn't mean anything."

"It's fine," Jace shrugged him off. "I can always tell them who you were with that night."

You and Will exchanged glances, mouths wide open.

"All right, let's hear it. It was my bridesmaid, wasn't it?" Will challenged. "Santi brushed her off so you took your shot?"

"Sure, why not?" Benny cryptically answered, silencing Jace with a glare. Folding his massive arms over his chest, he tipped his chin up. And you all knew he was done talking about it.

"Ducky, your turn," Benny said. "Then we definitely need more alcohol."

Before anyone had too much to drink, the four of you headed home to do shots. Well, Benny and Will would do shots. You never got drunk, because who knew what might come spilling out of your mouth if you lost control of your faculties?

And Jace complained of headaches if he drank too much. He was the first one to go to bed, as you and Santi predicted.

You decided to hang in there with Benny, drinking a sip of beer for his every shot. Will finally retired, leaving you and Benny on the couch, laughing about the stupidest things.

Finally, he got a little too drunk and hit what you guys called "confession mode", meaning you were obligated to order him to bed, because he might not remember anything he said.

Miller rights prevailed: "anything said during a drinking contest cannot be used against you."

"Glad you're home, Ducky," he murmured, head lolled back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling fan, watching it go around and around and around... "Don't want you to move away again."

"Aw, Benny." You laid your head on his shoulder. "I can't stay here. You guys will totally smother me. It's like I traded one dad for 3. Or like 4, counting Diego."

"And Frankie," Benny added.

"No, Frankie's not like that. He's definitely like a big brother. Except I have 3 of those. Maybe a cool cousin. Someone not watching me like a hawk."

"We don't watch you like a hawk," he refuted. "You're never here anyway."

"I'm just trying to get an education," you reminded him. "I want some options, you know?"

"I mean this summer. You're always with your friends," he sighed. "But I get it. You're all grown up now."

"Will said we should hang out more. I think we should go camping. I'm not trying to avoid you guys, I promise." Were you really spending that much time with Santiago?

"I know that. I know." He closed his eyes for so long you thought he fell asleep. "We forgot Pope," he finally said. "What is he? Big brother? Fun cousin? Grumpy ass uncle?"

"What? No," you protested before you could stop yourself. "He's just..." Releasing a long sigh, you chomped on your lip, head spinning. "He's just Santi."

"I slept with Mateo," Benny blurted, ignoring what you said about Santiago. "The day before the wedding. And the night of the wedding."

Diego's brother?

"Oh...my god," you gasped. "Not that I want to hear about my brother's sex life but...Mateo? Benny..."

"Shit, you didn't know?" He groaned, patting your leg.

"That you're into Mateo? No. Does Diego know?"

"Not that." He sat up a little straighter, suddenly seeming somewhat sober. "About me. You know...that I'm...."

"Gay?" you smiled sweetly, nudging his arm. "Benny, we know that. I don't even know why Will was joking about you hooking up with a bridesmaid."

"He does it because of Jace. I don't know why. It just seems...easier. You know how Jace can be."

"I guess. But you don't honestly think I would have an issue with it."

"No, I know." Leaning back, he closed his eyes again. "I wanted to dance with him. But...I didn't want it to be a thing, you know, on D's big day. And if I danced with him, like...it would be obvious how I felt. Does that make me an asshole?"

"No. It doesn't," you assured him. If anyone could understand hiding things... "Did you talk to Mateo about it?"

"Yeah, we talked about it. He agreed with me. He didn't want to take away from D."

"Now that I think about it though...why would a simple dance take away from anything? You danced with girls. Why would dancing with a guy be any different? That's bullshit."

"It's not about all that."

"Are you sure?" you prodded, sitting up straighter. "Because I will kick some ass if anyone is trying to treat you like it's 1960, Jace included."

"Jace isn't like that, he's just...ugh," Benny groaned. "He wouldn't have an issue with me and Mateo, he's just so damn like...judgmental about everything. Anything." Benny let out a weary sigh, rubbing his eyes. "And D's family is so..."

"Catholic?"

"Yes," he laughed. "And like really old school too." He glanced over at you. "I couldn't do that to him."

"Diego would never want you to pretend for him or his family," you insisted softly. "You're his family just as much as them. You know that."

"Yeah," he granted you a tired, lazy smile. "Thanks, Ducky."

The next morning, or...midday, actually, you found Jace cooking brunch. Your heart warmed at the thought of Jace taking care of you all.

"Want some help?" You asked him, starting a pot of coffee.

"Nah, you're good. You stayed up late with Benny." He nodded toward the sizzling skillet. "Hangover food."

"I'm not hung over," you shrugged. "I had like one beer while Benny got wasted."

Jace looked over at you. "He that worried about Mateo?"

"Miller rules," you reminded him pointedly. "Our conversation is privileged."

"Fair enough," he nodded, his attention returning to not burning the eggs. "You guys think you're not totally obvious. It's kind of hilarious, actually."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Benny and Mateo," he simply replied. "Or how Will tries to pretend he's not still in love with Vanessa. Or you..."

You went on the defensive. "If this is about Marcus, I'm totally over him."

"Oh, I know." Switching off the heat, he removed the skillet from the stove and turned to face you. "I also know you're not always with Fiona or Anna."

Heat crept up your neck as you stared at the coffee pot. "What are you talking about?"

"You...lying," he scoffed. "You think we're stupid?"

Inhaling sharply, you glared at him accusingly. "Are you following me or something? Where is this coming from?"

"No, I'm not following you. That would be insane, why would you ask me that?" His eyes registered realization at how guilty you looked. "Because you know that if I did follow you, I would find out whatever the hell you've been lying about. Right?"

"I'm not lying," you lied. "What is wrong with you today? Maybe you're hung over."

Jace eased closer, eyes dark and unreadable. "What do you think Benny and Will are gonna do when they find out you're sneaking around with someone?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"Jace, what are you - "

"I heard him in your room," he hissed.

Just perfect. World War 3 was about to begin and Santiago would either be dead because your brothers would kill him, or would be mad at you for all eternity.

Whatever. Jace was being an asshole. What else was new? You folded your arms over your chest, eyes flashing defiantly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, okay," Jace replied, mockingly. "Whoever he is - he must have a death wish. Maybe you could at least keep your sneaking around out of our damn house. You shouldn't be doing that anyway."

"Doing what?" You whispered shakily, only slightly relieved that Jace didn't seem to know who was in your room that night.

"Spending your summer sleeping around," he responded, his tone dripping with disdain.

"How dare you?" You whispered shakily, tears burning your eyes, your body tense beyond belief. "What I do with my time, and my life, is none of your business."

"You should be here with us. You're supposed to be here with us this summer!" Jace's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing angrily.

You'd heard it now from all 3 brothers. Will noticed you were gone a lot. So the two of you decided to plan a camping trip. Benny, while drunk, mentioned missing you when you were gone, but that was more than this summer. He meant the fact that you lived in a different city for school. Those were brotherly things to say, right? It felt good to be missed, to be thought of by your best friends in the world.

But this? This felt wrong. Your whole body felt tense and threatened, your skin hot with defensive anger.

Right when you turned to flee the room, Will sauntered in, yawning and stretching.

"You guys arguing again?" He mumbled, reaching around you for the coffee pot, as you and Jace stared each other down.

And instantly, your body relaxed. "I don't feel good. I'm going to bed."

You bolted back upstairs, hearing Will call after you. "I told you - you should have called it a night when I did, Ducky!"

Your fingers flew over your phone as you texted Santiago.

'Jace knows I'm sneaking around. He doesn't seem to know who with though.'

S: 'Shit'

'Yeah. He said he heard us in my room.'

S: 'So he knows? About us? Hang on'

Your phone vibrated as Santiago's name flashed on your screen.

"Hey, I can't talk very loud. I feel like I'm being spied on."

"Are you okay?" Santi asked you softly. "What the hell is going on?"

You recounted your conversation with Jace, and how it made you feel.

"So he knows that you're seeing someone, but he didn't seem to know it was me?"

"Yeah, from what he said. But he was so mean about it," you whispered, sniffling softly. "I felt like I was getting in trouble, like I had something to feel guilty about."

"You're a grown woman, sweetheart. You don't have to explain yourself to anyone, myself included. You know that right?"

You stayed silent for a moment, chewing on your lip worriedly.

"Hey," he said softly. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. When I get back, we can figure out a better way to keep your rules, or whatever you want to do."

Still, you remained quiet.

"Baby...it's okay. Talk to me."

"I'm here," you softly returned. "Jace said I was spending my summer sleeping around. He made it sound...like...this bad thing. Like it was wrong, like something is wrong with me."

"Nothing is wrong with you," Santi reminded you. "Nothing is wrong with being a virgin and nothing is wrong with not being a virgin. It's your body. It's none of his damn business."

"That's what I tried to say. Why is he always like this? He ruins everything."

Santi remained quiet for a moment. "I think you have a lot of people with opinions on how you should spend your time. The only thing that matters is what you want."

He waited a beat.

"You want to stop? We'll stop. You want to keep it a secret? We've been doing that anyway. It's your choice."

"So you have no opinion at all, on whether we should stop this or not?" Of all the people in your business, Santiago's opinion, you found, was the one that most interested you.

"I have plenty of opinions, sweetheart. This isn't about me."

"Like hell it isn't," you hissed, with more vile than you intended, by far. "Sorry. I'm sorry. We had such a good night last night and then Jace just..."

"Listen to me," Santiago said softly, making it sound like a request rather than an order. "Trust your instincts. This is your life. We all love you. You do what you gotta do and everyone else will fall in line. We got you. I got you."

Fresh tears dribbled down your cheeks, making you feel a little foolish, but honestly you felt relieved. But also angry. Not at Santiago, but at the notion that you needed permission from any of them to live your own damn life.

Your move to grad school could not come soon enough.

"Too much?" He finally said, after a long silence from you. "I probably sound like another Miller, just handing out advice you didn't ask for."

"No, it's not that." You weren't quite sure what to say. Maybe there were too many males surrounding you. But you did feel so glad to be home.

No, this was about Jace. He was the one who got under your skin. He was the one judging you. But would your other brothers judge you too?

"It's such bullshit. Jace made me feel like..." You almost growled, "I'm a virgin, but he made me feel like I sleep around and lie all the time. I'm so...I can't stand him right now."

Santiago's hand curled into a fist as he measured his words. You didn't need anymore testosterone infused tirades about kicking someone's ass. Not now. "Would it make you feel any better if I said I don't like him very much right now either?"

You chuckled bitterly. "You've never liked Jace. I don't think he likes you either."

"Yeah, well..." Santi almost bit his tongue to keep quiet.

"Well, what? Is there a reason?" You prodded.

"Nothing. I don't want to get between you and your brother."

"That's diplomatic of you," you halfheartedly responded.

Santi wasn't about to spill any family tea. Not like this. As far as he knew, only he and Will knew the whole truth about Jace.

"I don't like that you feel like shit, though," he said softly. "I know the normal response is about whose ass we're gonna kick, but...I just wish I was there with you right now."

"You want to have sex right now?" You groaned, somehow knowing that you were missing the point.

"No, Jesus, not everything is about that. I just wish I could give you hug or something."

"I'm sorry, Santi," you instantly and regretfully whispered. "I'm such a drama queen today."

"Don't do that. Don't apologize. Girls always apologize for being human beings. Jace was an asshole," he said with conviction.

"God, you're really good at this," you responded, flopping back on your pillow, feeling like you were almost having a conversation with Fi or Anna or your best college friend, Krishni, who was back in India for the summer.

"Thank you. I try," he joked. "Hey, wanna see a picture of my nephew? He's cuter than Frankie's baby. Don't tell Angelica though."

He sent you the pic and you cooed over how big and so adorable Santi's sister's baby was, completely melting at another pic he sent of himself holding the chunky guy. You stared at it for the rest of the phone call, loving the way Santi's eyes crinkled at the corners when he truly smiled. He was such a natural with kids. His niece and nephew adored him. Some lucky girl would actually get to be with Santiago someday. He would make an amazing dad.

Which made you wonder...how was he still single?

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[steven-grants-world]

could u write something about joe finally fucking reader after MONTHSSS of stalking :))))

You Were Always Mine

TW: NSFW smut

———

You don’t even realize he’s in your apartment until the door locks behind you.

Click.

You freeze, keys still dangling in your hand. Something feels off. The air is too still. Too… warm.

Then you hear it.

That voice.

“I was starting to think you’d never leave the bookstore.”

Your breath catches. You know that voice. You’ve heard it on the wind, felt it in your bones. You’ve dreamed it.

Joe steps out of the shadows like he’s always belonged here. Like this is his apartment, his space, and you’ve just arrived home to him. Not the other way around.

Your pulse spikes.

“Joe?” you whisper.

He tilts his head, like he’s pleasantly surprised you remember. Like that wasn’t obvious. Like he hasn’t watched you every night for six months, standing outside your window in the rain, touching himself to the sound of your soft little sighs.

“You remember my name,” he says, voice low and smooth. “That’s good. We’re already closer than I thought.”

You back up. Just a little. Barely a step.

But he sees it.

“Don’t,” he says softly. “You don’t have to be scared. I would never hurt you.”

He’s in front of you in two strides, and you feel it—his heat, his hunger, the possessiveness coiled like a wire just beneath the surface.

“I waited,” he says. “So long. I watched you be with people who didn’t deserve you. Who didn’t love you like I do.”

You shake your head. “You don’t even know me—”

“But I do,” he interrupts, and suddenly his hand is at your jaw, tilting your face up, and God help you, you don’t pull away. “I know everything. I know you cry when your coffee order’s wrong because it makes you feel stupid. I know you hum when you’re anxious. I know the way you touch yourself in bed and stop before you come because you never really feel safe.”

His lips brush yours. Barely.

“But you’re safe now,” he breathes. “You’re mine now.”

You want to say no.

You should.

But the months of loneliness, of looking over your shoulder, of wondering if the shadow in the corner of your room was him… they all collapse inside you, and the dam breaks.

You kiss him.

And Joe? Joe loses it.

He moans into your mouth like he’s starving. Like this is something he’s earned. Like he’s been so, so patient—and now he finally gets to devour you.

He walks you backward, lips never leaving yours, until your back hits the wall and you’re gasping.

“I thought about this,” he mutters, tugging your shirt over your head. “Every night. How you’d feel. How you’d taste.”

You tremble under his hands, already wet, already wrecked just from his words.

He drops to his knees, kissing down your stomach. “You wanna know how good I’ve been? I bought lube the same brand you keep in your nightstand. I practiced.”

“Practiced?” you echo, voice breaking.

Joe smiles. “I stole your panties the first night. I use them every time I think about you.”

You gasp—but it’s not fear. It’s heat. Shameful, filthy heat.

He spreads your legs like he owns them. Like he’s earned the right. And maybe he has.

You don’t stop him.

You let him taste you. Tongue hot and desperate, hands digging into your thighs like he needs to anchor himself to this moment so he doesn’t float away.

He groans like it hurts. “You’re better than I dreamed.”

You come on his mouth, shaking, moaning, and he drinks it down like it’s salvation.

Then—he fucks you.

Not sweet. Not slow.

But deep, hungry, obsessive.

Joe looks into your eyes the whole time, whispering every filthy, devoted thing he’s ever thought:

“You were always mine.”

“No one else gets to see you like this.”

“You were made for me.”

“Finally.”

And when you come again—hard and crying—he follows with a groan so deep it makes your toes curl.

Afterward, he doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t move.

Just buries his face in your neck and murmurs, “I’m never leaving. You understand? You’re mine now. And I take care of what’s mine.”

You nod. Because deep down, part of you already knew.

He was never just watching.

He was waiting.