#jake lockely

[moguloops]

I come bearing a gift

(BTW this is my art 😭 I just never sign shit)

[flavoredmagpie]

-🌘🌗🌕-

Helping Hand

[vi-sinner]

my friends: “He’s violent and a murderer, and will hurt anyone who gets in his way”

me: “but…he’s so pretty 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”

[brittlebarbie]

My boyfriends 🫶

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: Closer

cowritten with @astroboots

Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)

Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.

Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.

[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]

Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 

Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 

It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 

The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 

A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 

A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 

But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 

For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 

Always you.

You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.

And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 

Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 

And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 

The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 

He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.

“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.

You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.

Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  

He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 

Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 

Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.

Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 

He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.

Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 

"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 

Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 

"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."

Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 

Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 

Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.

Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.

Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"

You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.

It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 

Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.

As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 

He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.

When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.

It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 

Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 

"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 

Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you  need me to stop?" 

"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."

You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.

Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.

Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 

You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.

You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.

Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.

His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 

"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"

"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.

"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.

He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.

He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.

It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 

You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.

"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 

You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"

That's more like it. 

"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"

You nod into the pillow.

He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.

"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"

"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.

It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 

"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."

Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.

A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.

One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 

He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 

Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.

It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.

And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 

"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 

He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.

You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.

"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 

"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"

Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 

Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.

You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.

"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.

"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 

"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."

Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 

But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.

He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.

"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"

"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"

His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 

The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.

Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 

He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 

Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 

Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 

You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.

"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.

Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.

It's not enough.

He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 

Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 

He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.

Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–

"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 

His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.

He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 

Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.

The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.

He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 

Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.

All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 

You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 

"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"

"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."

That's all Jake needs to hear.

He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 

Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it

He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.

“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”

And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.

"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.

"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."

Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 

By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.

Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 

When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.

You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 

You’re beautiful.

You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 

The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.

“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.

You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.

Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.

Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 

You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 

He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.

Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.

In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 

It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .

Thanks for reading!

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Pigeon tantrum 🐦

[elliaze]

Taste of desire

Parring: Jake Lockley x fem!reader, mentioned Steven Grant x fem!reader and Marc Spector x fem!reader (but in like one sentence only, so it's mainly Jake x reder)

Warnings: smut, rough sex, creampie, sex in public place, both Jake and reader are crazy about each other, but they are so in love, this is my first time writing a smut so probably this is also a warning

Summary: Y/N and Jake are in the club.

Words Count: 1400

MASTERLST

Evening’s with Jake had their regular moments. First he would take you to your favourite restaurant, then you would end up at a nearby club to unwind after a long day. Mostly it ended with one or two drinks and a few dances, but you noticed that tonight was going to be different. 

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, glancing at Jake. 

He was sitting next to you, sprawled out on a couch in one of the boxes you had managed to occupy. Jake put his hand on your uncovered knee and there would have been nothing strange about that, as he had held it almost all this time, showing that you were taken. This time, however, his hand slowly headed up the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. 

“ I have no idea what you're talking about, hermosa.” 

You rolled your eyes. Sometimes you forget what a cunning bastard Jake could be. Lockley actually acted as if he didn't know what was going on and was quietly drinking his whisky. You knew him too well and knew that it was just his game, which he mostly won, because at the end of the day you would let him do anything he likes to do to you. Just like now, when you felt getting hot at the thought of what state he could bring you to again. 

“Jake” you said his name with warning as you felt his hand travel higher. You quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping him between your legs, but you still managed to feel the heat coming from him. Something tightened in your stomach at the fact that he was only inches away from touching you where you needed it. You looked around to see if anyone had noticed that his hand was under your skirt, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you noticed that everyone was busy with their own. “We're in a public place. This is not funny.”

Lockley tsked in satisfaction. He slid his hand out from under your skirt and for a moment you hoped you might have talked some sense into him, but then he grabbed you around the waist and moved into his lap. He put his hands on your hips, not letting you move anywhere. There was a devious smile on his face, and you could see that dangerous glint in his dark eyes. Jake leaned over you and placed a hot kiss on your neck. As hard as you wanted to fight it, you couldn't ignore the fact that this alone made you feel yourself getting wet. You moaned softly and tightened your fingers on his shoulders. You knew by now that you were at a loss.

“Fuck you, Lockley,” you whispered directly into his mouth, moving your hips back and forth. Jake was unpredictable, but you weren't going to let him be the only one to torment. He only laughed, as if he had heard the best joke. 

“That's my intention, querida, but only with you. That's why you have two options,” he said, bringing his lips close to your ear. “I can take you right now, right here, where everyone can see us. Or you can be a good girl, and we'll go to the bathroom, because you look too sexy for me to wait until we get home.”

You drew a loud breath as he gently bit the lobe of your ear. You had forgotten about the world around you, and he could actually fulfil the first option. But you still had some sense, and all you could do was clasp his face in your hands, and kiss him hard, showing that you were agreeing to whatever he was thinking about. 

“The bathroom,” you whispered.

Jake set you on the ground and you could feel your legs go weak under you. This was to be the first time he had acted this way towards you in public. He had teased you, and made you blush, but you had always been able to wait until you got home. This time, the journey in the car would be too long, and you needed to feel his touch and kisses on your body.

“That's what I thought,” he spoke up slyly.

Lockley threw his arm over your shoulder and, paying no attention to whether anyone was watching you, led you into the bathroom. As soon as he closed the door, you had the feeling that some wild animal had entered him. He kissed you immediately, and the kiss almost left you breathless. You moaned protractedly as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pushed you towards the washbasin against which he leaned you, and you widened your legs, allowing him to stand between them. He was so close to you that you could feel his bulge in his trousers growing larger. 

“I swear you're going to drive me to death one day,” he said between kisses. 

Jake reached one hand up and placed it on your throat, squeezing gently. He didn't hurt you in any way, but it only made you want more. You could feel his familiar touch on your body, which was causing you to lose your mind completely, and that was all that mattered to you. Everything he was doing was not enough for you. You craved more and more. 

“Jake…”

“Don't worry, princesa. I'll make you feel like you're in heaven.” 

You believed him, because he was able to do it every time. Whenever he touched you in this way, you felt like he was discovering some new place that you had no idea of, where his touch could give you such pleasure. Jake sat you down on the sink and pulled your skirt up to your hips. He moved you to the edge of the counter so that your body bent at an unnatural angle, and you moaned into his mouth when you felt his other hand land between your legs. He slipped his fingers under your underwear and as he ran his fingers over your clit, you heard him curse under his breath. 

“I haven't even done anything yet, and already you're wet for me. This is all just for me, isn't it?”

“Just for you,” you said and pushed your hips forward, impatient with the fact that he kept teasing you. “Only for you, Jake.” 

You kissed his neck and slipped your hands under his shirt, immediately directing them to his back. You ran fingernails over his skin, and he growled at the small gesture. 

“That's right, that's my name, baby. And you will be screaming it so that everyone who walks by will hear you and know who's giving you so much pleasure.”

Without warning, Jake slipped two fingers into you at once. You cursed loudly and leaned your head against the mirror behind you. You were breathing heavily, and your chest was rising and falling at an irregular rate. You were on the verge of euphoria, and Lockley only smiled to himself with satisfaction at seeing you in such a state. He leaned over you and, still exploring your delicate insides, began to descend lower and lower with his kisses. He started from a place behind the ear, down your throat and neck, on to your breasts and chest, which were hidden under the material of your dress. He placed a kiss just above your most sensitive spot, until finally he grabbed your underwear and pulled at it. 

All you could hear was the crack of the material, and that sobered you for a moment.

“Did you…just…destroy my underwear?” You asked, struggling to form the words into a question. 

Jake just laughed and lifted his hand, which contained the torn fabric.

“I'll buy you a new and sexier set.” 

“Asshole, how am I supposed to get home now?” 

“No one but us will know you're acting like a pequeña puta.”

You hated being addressed that way. You considered it a completely sexist text and, above all, disrespectful. But when Jake lost his temper and addressed you with these kinds of words... Oh, you knew it only turned you on. You didn't have time to answer him when Jake crouched down and his lips were between your legs.

Lockley was unrelenting. His fingers had driven you mad before, but now, combined with his tongue, they were a pleasurable torment. You slipped your fingers into his hair and clenched them, trying to find something in the way of balance. This was extremely difficult as Jake touched you in ways you could only imagine. Then Jake slid a third finger inside you, and you felt as if something slowly broke inside you. Pain and pleasure were merging together. You felt the pressure in the pit of your stomach becoming more and more unbearable, as if waiting for the right moment to let go. 

“I'm holding you, querida. Just give in. Come for me.”

His words of encouragement made something inside you relax. One minute you could feel the end approaching, and the next the greatest fulfilment had completely taken over you, and you came with his name on the lips. However, Jake did not pull away immediately. He ran his tongue over your sensitive folds once more, and only then did he straighten up. At the same time, he slid his fingers out of you, and when your gazes met, he slowly began to lick them.

“You are so sweet,” he muttered. You smiled blissfully, trying to focus all your attention on him, although it wasn’t that easy. You were shaking all over, and you were glad to be sitting, because you wouldn't have been able to stand on your own feet.

“I have no idea how I'm going to get out of here,” you said, struggling to normalise your breathing. It felt like your heart was about to fall out of your chest, and you felt as if you had run a marathon. “I don't think I can walk.” 

Jake just smiled with satisfaction. Your words had tickled his ego pleasantly. He couldn't take his eyes off you and, in some way inexplicable to him, you were even more beautiful than normal and, above all, he wanted you even more. 

“You don't think I'm done with you, do you?”

You merely said his name, and he used that moment to slip his fingers into your mouth this time. There was something disgusting about it, but at the same time, so sexual that you could feel it starting to work again. If you had somehow managed to normalise your breathing, now you felt it accelerate again, and all you were able to repeat in your mind was his name. Jake grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back to start kissing your neck and throat. He was doing this extremely aggressively and was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back, especially when he had you in front of him, ready to receive anything he was able to give you.

Jake moved his hands to his trousers, quickly unbuttoning them. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and a shiver ran through your body. “I need you now.”

You didn't even have a chance to reply as Jake grabbed you by the hips and rolled you over onto your front. He bent you forward for better access and then slid his hands down to your exposed buttocks and slapped one of them. You let out a surprised squeal, but quickly forgot about it as you felt him begin to slowly enter you, giving you a chance to get used to the feeling. 

“Fuck, I always forget…” you began, but were unable to finish when Jake entered you full length. You took a deep breath, and although it wasn't the first time you'd had sex like this, you felt like you were feeling it doubly now. You leaned your head forward, accepting the feeling of fullness that you only felt with him, Marc or Steven. You entwined the fingers on Jake's head. 

Lockley at the same time reached forward and placed his hand on your neck again. He pulled your chin so that your gazes met in the mirror. There was a devious smirk on his lips, but you were too absorbed in what he was doing to care. 

“Forget what?” He began to whisper in your ear, slowly moving inside. “That I'm so big you can barely fit me? Or about the fact that you're always so tight for me, no matter how many times I take you?”

“YES! Yes, yes! Fuck… Jake, please…”

You were in a state where you couldn't string a single sentence together. You didn't even have a clue what exactly you were asking for, but you knew you needed it more, faster. 

“What are you asking me, hermosa?”

Jake brushed your hair away from your face, and leaned over to start kissing your neck. You tightened your fingers in his hair. You pulled at it a tad harder than you had expected, but Jake only growled into your hot skin. 

“Don't stop,” you said with difficulty. “And don't hold back. I know you won't hurt me.” 

It worked on him, like the best spell. Jake clamped his fingers tighter around your throat and you held your breath for a moment. But then Lockley sped up and amplified his movements so that you had no idea where he ended and you began. He moved inside you so sharply and aggressively that you could feel your hips thumping against the sink. You were sure you would have bruises later, but at that moment that was the last thing you worried about. You were thinking about how you would be able to get to the car later, as you knew you wouldn't be able to stand on your own. Jake's action was taking away every ability you had. 

“Can you do this?” Your gazes met again in the mirror. This time, Jake could see the tears gathering in your eyes. You merely nodded her head. “Say it.”

“I can do it,” you repeated after him. “Jake, fuck, I…”

You paused as another moan escaped your lips. Jake moved his hand down over the neckline of your dress until he finally slipped his fingers under the fabric of your bra and squeezed your breasts. You cursed again and leaned your head back, resting it against his shoulder. You closed your eyes at the feeling that slowly wanted to leave your body. Jake ran his thumb over your nipple. 

“Yeah, me too,” he answered slowly, losing the ability to form sentences properly.

Jake sped up even more, and you began to move, mimicking his pace, until you finally came, once again shouting his name, and he did the same literally seconds after you. You were panting and breathing heavily and needed a longer moment to recover from what had happened. When you were finally able to function normally, Jake slid out of you, and you felt his seed running down your legs. You didn't have the strength to do anything about it, but you didn't need to because Lockley quickly took care of you. He washed you thoroughly and then helped you to fix your dress and hair.

“You were so good to me. So beautiful. Let's go home, shall we?”

You nodded her head.

“I love you, mi corazón,” he said.

“I love you too, Jake.” 

You smiled and allowed him to place one hand on the side of your head. You entwined her fingers around his wrist and immediately felt him place a brief and tender kiss on your forehead. Later, supporting you firmly at the waist, you left the bathroom together, and he led you to the car.

[ivystoryweaver]

Jake Lockley

Who was shot to death by Harrow before he could protect his alters, his life, his body

Who was trapped inside a sarcophagus in the Duat

Who wasn’t remembered in the balancing of Marc’s scale

(This is, of course, why Marc finally balanced when Steven fell to the Duat sands. With Jake trapped and unable to fill in the rest of the memories, Steven alone could not balance Marc. The system was incomplete)

Who isn’t about to let Harrow kill him twice

Who saves his own life (and his alters’) outright, battling Harrow. Even right in front of Layla. He’s not going to be too slow again.

Who lets Marc have the free choice to walk away from another murder after Khonshu orders him to kill Harrow.

Who finishes the job and eliminates the threat because, “Harrow…shot us.” (As Steven says)

Who died one day because he was too late, so he tells Harrow it’s his turn to die.

Who probably isn’t scared of anything. But that sarcophagus scared him.

Who thinks maybe his alters could know about him now. He’ll keep being a little more obvious. And maybe they’ll know not to leave him behind again.

(Even though he doesn’t blame them because they didn’t know.)

Who won’t be so good at hiding anymore.

Who won’t ever be too slow again

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[killrspringlock]

women want one thing and it’s disgusting.

(oscar isaac coded characters)

[flavoredmagpie]

-🌘🌗🌕-

Lean on me

[runa-falls]

Soo, (reffing to fluffer ff) how do you think the boys would react if they couldn't request you because you're working with somebody else or if they see you working with someone else?

ooooh shitttttt 🫢 alright, let's explore that shall we?

a/n: uhhh….i’m so sorry that this took so long omg 😭 i love you nonnie, i just forgor~ i'm making a second part to this where they find out reader was an amateur porn star before she became a fluffer :3 it's mostly all smut ngl, so anyway...

cw: explicit smut w/ jake only.. sry marc/steven hoes (18+), jealous!marc [angst, fluff], soft!steven [fluff[, out-of-pocket!jake [straight smut], inaccurate depiction of sex work, dirty talk, not proof-read!!

w/c: 1.7k [my baddd]

Fluffing for Others:

Being a fluffer was your job before you met the boys and you continued to do it after. The thing is, after you met the boys, you were so busy working with them that your already limited work schedule had no space for other clients.

But occasionally, one of your earlier clients will request you months in advance for a big project, and you have no reason to decline them (that is, until the boys convince you to stop working).

Marc [slight angst, fluff]:

"Sorry baby, I can't make it Tuesday, I have another client--"

Marc was just telling you about his next production that's set to film in the next few days.

Of course, he springs the gig on you just as it's about to happen.

He always does this, assuming you'd be free, and happy to join him. He never gives you more than a week to prepare, and usually you're fine with it. But this time, you're busy.

"Wait, another client?" You nod, but he's still not getting it, like he can't believe his ears. "Like a different client? Like an 'outside of this body' client?" You sigh.

Of course, he's reacting like this.

"Yes Marc, an old friend called and booked me for the week. I put it on the joint calendar, didn't you see it?" His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words. "He's doing a movie length exclusive, so he called way in advance."

"But...but what about me?" He pouts -- literally pouts -- as he walks closer to you, backing you against the kitchen counter.

You raise a brow, "What about you?"

"What am I gonna do?" His hands hold you by the waist, pulling you close while he nuzzles his nose against your neck. He does this when he's trying to comfort himself -- buries his face against your body and holds you close.

He's so dramatic.

"Don't be so whiney, Marc. A girl's gotta work too." He hmphs in discontent as he hoists you onto the edge of the counter. You loop your arms around his neck easily and make him look at you. His soft brown eyes shyly meet yours, "I don't complain when you fuck your co-workers."

"That's--"

You send him a warning look, "I swear to god if you say it's different..."

"No, you're right, honey..." He's sheepish when he looks at you, realizing how his jealousy got the best of him once again. "I just...want you all to myself sometimes." You peck him on the cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, suppressing a smile as he leans into you with a sigh. He's so easy.

"I'm yours, baby." His hands squeeze at your waist at those words. He loves hearing you say that. Loves that you're here in his kitchen, always ready to receive his needy affection.

"So... are you free next week?"

You snort.

"Marc, you can't keep moving your productions for me. You could always find another back-up fluffer..."

"Not doing it without you." He mumbles, lips brushing against yours.

You lean into him and your noses nudge against each other. You're not quite kissing him, but when you're looking into his eyes like this, it feels just as intimate.

"Yeah, I'm free."

He grins, "Good. It's a date." He captures your lips in his and you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

---

Steven [fluff!]:

Telling Steven was pretty easy. He knew about it before you even told him, seeing it on the 'family calendar' that you forced each boy to join.

"You need a ride to production Monday? I could call you an early cab as we don't have a car and all. Don't want you to have to catch the bus."

Steven is lying next to you, having woken up in the body this morning. He's always been more of a morning person compared to the other boys, despite looking perpetually tired.

"Aw, thanks honey, but I'm fine. Their sending a company car since it's such a long filming schedule." You snuggle up closer to him, craving his warmth from the morning coolness that blows through the flat. He lets you settle against him, wrapping an arm around your torso.

"A company car? ...fancy."

"Anything is fancier than our usual walk and transit ride." You giggle against the thin fabric of his shirt, slightly muffling your words with how closely you cling to him.

Steven is dressed in Marc's pajamas: a tight undershirt and briefs, clothes you rarely get to see Steven in when he's fronting. Usually, he prefers looser clothing made of soft and comfy materials.

You can't complain though. Seeing Steven (unintentionally) show off his built body while acting all cozy and sweet makes you heat with want.

"You don't mind I'm working for other clients again?"

He tilts his head as if he's just now considering it.

"No, why would I? It's your job, just like how I have mine."

You pause, surprised by how cool he is with it.

"Oh...yeah."

“I actually thought you'd be doing this more often..." You look up at him, meeting his soft and sleepy gaze, "I mean, I thought everyone would be requesting you." He whispers, unsure if you'd appreciate his comments.

You hum, "I only had one company that hired me as a general assistant and only three regulars." You smile at him, remembering the first time you met him, "But then I met you guys, and you took over my whole life."

"...Then we met you, and now you're our life." Your heartbeat picks up at his words. It feels like something is squeezing at your chest in the most pleasant way possible.

Steven never realizes how poet and sweet he can be. You truly believe he just says whatever is on his mind.

"But you still work, and I still need to work..."

"You’re so beautiful, sweetheart, anyone would be lucky to be in your presence, let alone touched by you.”

You bite your bottom lip, hard.

How can he say such wonderful things? Make you feel so tender and loved that you could fall apart under his gentle gaze?

Intense emotions tighten in the back of your throat and all you can do is hold him closer, clutch him until he can feel what you're unable to voice.

"I love you, Steven. You know that right?" It's barely rasped out, but he hears it.

"Of course, darling." He pecks the top of your head, "You know I love you more, though."

A smile pulls at your lips, "Impossible. I love you so much you can't even comprehend it."

He chuckles before offering his rebuttal, "Well actually..."

---

Jake (NSFW 18+):

Jake took it as well as you thought he would...

His hand squeezes lightly at the sides of your throat, testing the waters as he continues to rapidly thrust into you. You wince as his fingers dig into the fresh bruises that he suckled into your skin earlier.

“Bet they wish they could fuck you like this...feel you quiver around their cock," You groan as he angles his cock to drag against the walls of your cunt, expertly nudging against that explosive spot inside of you. "But they can’t, because your mine, right honey?”

You nod wordlessly, barely able to comprehend what he said.

He buries himself deep inside of you with a huff and holds himself there until you're squirming under him. "Right?" He grits out, frustrated with your lack of response.

Your body shakes as his cock continues to press flush against the back of your cunt, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure all over. You feel so full, completely stretched, and filled to the brim; you can barely move without crying out.

"Yes, yes, please, Jake, I'm yours--"

He pulls out briefly before swiftly pushing back in and it feels like you had the wind knock out of you. "That's right, baby, take it. Show 'em who you belong to."

You shutter out breathes as he works himself into your body, holding you down so you can't move a muscle without him knowing. Sloppy sounds remind you just how needy you are for him, how much you love it when he treats you like this.

Jake lets you go and work for clients, but he'll be damned if you go without his mark on you. Without a physical reminder that you're his.

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just doesn't trust them.

You're the perfect woman, someone he couldn't resist when he was just a client to you. So how can he be sure your other clients won't try to woo you like he did?

"Fuck, honey," He growls, grinding his hips against yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible so he can cum deep inside of you. "You're so good to me, letting me do this when you gotta be on set in an hour..."

Your head is tilted back, and eyes are closed tight as you desperately try to hold back your orgasm, waiting for him. You whine as he rubs your clit, legs trembling around him.

"Please, Jake, cum for me...c-cum inside..."

"You gonna keep it all in for me, baby? Keep me stuffed inside of you as you jerk some loser off?" You cry, clenching around him as he coos at you, unable to hold back anymore.

"Mm... that’s right, honey, let go. Go ahead, soak me." He grunts when he feels you flutter around him and pushes in deeper, enjoying how tight you get when he talks dirty to you.

You writhe pathetically under him as you ride out your high, whimpering as he sharply fucks a few last thrusts into you before painting your walls with warmth. He fills you so much it starts to drip out of you as he pulls out.

His fingers push it back in before anymore could escape and ruin the couch under you. He hums thoughtfully as he fingers you, making sure you're all filled up for the day.

"Looks like you're ready for work." His eyes drift over your lust bitten lips, the marks covering your neck, and the mess at the center. He smirks, proud of his work.

"Thanks, baby." You smile sweetly.

You really do have the best boyfriends in the world...

[multi-fandom31]

Oscar Isaac was right!!!

Oscar is so cute❤

[peterman-spideyparker]

Celebrate (Marc Spector x fem!Reader, Steven Grant x fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So, I have had this done for a while and just never posted, so better late than never, amirite? And besides, we can all always use more Oscar Isaac and the Moon Boys in our lives. Enjoy! :)

Summary: The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

Warning: Fluff (established couple with all the Moon Boys, super sweet affection, kisses, a very important question), angst (negative emotions about birthdays), implied smut

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 3,348

Steven, Marc, and Jake love you. They loves everything about you, from how you talk, to how you have a ‘lucky’ something for every category of item you own, to how big your heart is. But there is one thing about you that particularly irks them.

In the year and a half that you have been together with them, they has yet to find out when your birthday is. For all they knows, they could have missed it twice! Hell, you’ve remembered theirs twice and have done incredibly loving things for both.

They have tried everything—Steven even tried to sneak a peak at your license once, but turned out to be in a different wallet. Steven only knew his lack of knowledge wasn’t by virtue of him not trying extremely hard, because Marc and Jake couldn’t find out either.

Jake enjoyed playing around with the fantasy that you were a secret spy or assassin who stepped away from the action to lead a normal, quiet life. Steven and Marc were ready to quickly dismiss it when they remembered that they served as an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon. In all honesty, there was a chance that Jake could be right. 

“Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, Pharaohs didn’t celebrate birthdays on the actual day?” Steven asks as he hands you a dish from the suds. “They celebrated their coronation day since it was when they were born into the role of ruler.”

“Interesting,” you respond as you use the towel to dry the plate.

“It’s a bit sad, though, innit? That other people didn’t celebrate their birthdays. It wasn’t a common thing.”

“Well, I mean, I guess people make a big deal out of birthdays and place a lot of pressure on them. Maybe the Egyptians had it right.”

“But it’s an important day, you know? Someone fantastic was brought to the world, that’s worth celebratin’.”

You have a feeling you know what he’s getting at. You choose to remain quiet.

“You’re worth celebratin’, (Y/N).”

You feel tears sting at your eyes, and you suck in your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying.

“Why haven’t you told us when your birthday is?” he pleads softly.

You dip your head and shrug. “My birthday . . . I don’t know,” you mutter. “I have a lot of mixed feelings about it, and I don’t know how to say them without sounding whiny.”

Steven tilts your chin up with a sudsy finger so your eyes lock onto his.

“We’re all ears,” he says tenderly.

You let out a sigh, but Steven’s finger refuses to let your gaze leave his.

“No matter how old I got or whatever new friends I made, my friends and colleagues and even my exes always forgot my birthday. I always made it a point to remember theirs, get a gift, a card, whatever, because—it’s the friggin’ day they’re born! And then I always had these small, wistful expectations there’d be something done for me like a surprise, but it was always nothing. Once I got into my college years, I’d have these hopes and expectations of what I’d have done by that birthday, and most of them never came true. My ‘have a first kiss’ goal was deferred for eight years until I was 25.” You close your eyes and give your head a little shake. “I’m just always disappointed by my birthday with other people and myself. Never a real reason to celebrate.”

Steven dries his hands and wipes away yours tears with the pads of his thumb as he pulls you in for a loving hug.

“Will you tell us when your birthday is, love?” Steven whispers into your hair. “Please?”

Unable to resist his tender embrace, you tell him the date, and he pulls back to scan your face. “That’s Thursday,” he states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It is.”

You don’t expect him to cradle your face in his hands while he kisses you deeply. “Boy, do we have some idea’s stewin’ in our brain,” he beams as he gives you another kiss. “And you know what? Since I missed it last year, you’re gonna have a half-birthday celebration that is gonna knock your knickers right off of you.”

“My knickers?” you laugh, your hurt feelings quickly leaving your body.

Steven whistles and moves his hand like a plane to emphasize the absolute absence of panties you’ll have before he hops up and rubs his hands together in excitement. 

“Oh,” he says as he holds up a finger. “This is why we couldn’t figure out your birthday, right? You’re not secretly a spy or assassin?”

You laugh at the implication, the sadness rolling off of your body. “Jake’s idea?”

Steven nods. 

“Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. And then there’s the issue of getting rid of the body, and we’re on the fifth floor—.”

“See, I know you’re jokin’, but part of me is actually a little spooked right now,” Steven says.

“No, hon. I’m not a spy,” you giggle, moving to kiss his cheek and push his curly hair back. “Sorry to disappoint Jake.”

Steven breathes a sigh of relief and dips his head as you hold onto him. "Oh, thank the gods!"

You’re vaguely aware of the shifting on your mattress as you continue to enjoy a cozy slumber under the comforter with your head on the pillows. After a bit, you feel another shift on the mattress along with the warmth of another body whose smell you know all too well. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” Steven whispers with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You let out a tired moan as you roll into Steven’s body, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face into his chest as you try to pull yourself back into a deep sleep. 

“Come now, I’ve made you your favorite. And I have a nice big mugga mornin’ Joe with your name on it,” he encourages.

You unbury your head slightly, looking up at him with still heavy eyes. He smiles as he looks down at you, kissing your forehead.

“I knew if the kisses didn’t do it, the coffee would,” he chuckles.

As you sit up in bed, Steven twists his torso and places a breakfast tray on your lap, presenting you with waffles, fresh cut fruit, and veggie sausage.

“Thank you, hon,” you tell him, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Anythin’ for the birthday girl,” he hums, placing a kiss on your neck that sends goosebumps throughout your body. “I still wish you could’ve taken the day off.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have these big meetings, I’d probably just stay in bed with you three.”

“Don’t give Jake any ideas—he’d find a way to make those meetings cancelled,” Steven chuckles, stealing a strawberry for himself. You know there’s nothing particularly aphrodisic or phallic about a strawberry, but watching Steven’s lips move around the red fruit and how his tongue licks away the juice sends your head spinning. Steven catches you looking at him and smirks. “Yes, love?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blush as you move to take a bite of the waffles in front of you.

“Mm, likely story,” he hums as he licks his lips once more, bringing his lips to your pulse point for a chaste kiss.

“I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to finish these, hon,” you chuckle as you take a closer look at the stack. “You made eight?”

“I’ve seen you devour a stack of waffles with no issue before.”

“Yeah, on a weekend where I don’t have to go do a full day of work later.”

“Then lucky for you, I am here to help,” he smiles, stealing your fork to snatch a bite of waffles for himself. “Bloody hell, I’m a good cook.”

We continue to sit in bed and eat the fluffy breakfast food until you have to get ready for work. As you fix your hair in the bathroom, Steven takes care of the dishes; he finishes drying them as you move from the bathroom to put on your clothes. As you slide on your sweater, Steven shuffles into the bedroom.

“Let me walk you to work today?” he whispers as he lifts out the hair tucked into the collar of your sweater. 

“I want to say yes, but then I wouldn’t want to go in or have you leave,” you respond just as quietly. “Especially after a morning like this one. It’d be the bed predicament on the sidewalk.”

Steven brings his lips to yours slowly as you wrap your arms around his waist. The kiss is tender and lazy, much like how you wish you could spend the day with one another. Steven lets out a defeated sigh as his lips part from yours, resting his forehead against yours.

“Text me when you get there?” he asks as his fingers play with your hair.

“Of course,” you tell him. "Love you."

Steven hands you your purse, letting you adjust it on your shoulder before he places more quick kisses on your lips, murmuring a "Love you more," as you attempt to make it out the door.

“What?” you chuckle as you put your purse on the table by the door. Jake is leaning on the kitchen table like a puppy that needs to be let out.

“I can’t wait for my girlfriend to do part two of her birthday?” Jake smirks as he suavely moves over from the wooden surface and meets you at the door, his hands on your waist as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips.

“And what would part two be, exactly?” you smile as you bite your lip, keeping them just out of reach of his so you don’t spend the rest of the night making out in the kitchen—although, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“I can’t give away all of the details, mi corazón. Now, go to the bedroom, put on what’s laid out, and then we’ll go to part two.”

You smirk at him and scrunch your eyebrows playfully as you try to figure out what he has planned. You do as he asks, nonetheless. Lying on the bed, you see a beautiful sky blue satin dress with an asymmetrical hemline and silver strappy heels. You slide on the dress and it fits like a glove—so much like a glove, you can see the line of your underwear underneath the fabric. Lightly chuckling to myself, you slide off your panties and take off your bra. Usually, you’d be opposed to going full commando, but when you see yourself in the mirror, everything looks better—the dress was made to be worn on your body without undergarments. You slide on the heels to finish off the look and quickly comb your hair to revitalize it from the day. When you meet Jake back in the living room, he licks his lips and smirks as he looks at you, giving you bedroom eyes as you move closer to him.

“Now will you tell me what we’re doing?” you coo as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“No,” he smiles as he pulls you in for a searing kiss, squeezing your ass for scientific reasons, you’re sure.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath this, are you?” he breathes against your lips.

“Not a stitch,” you hum as you move his hands off your rear, taking a step back and opening the door with your things in hand. “Lead the way, Lockley.”

He gives you a bedroom smirk and mutters a string of Spanish curses and erotic notions under his breath—something about not realizing how sexy you’d look and what he’d rather be doing to you.

“Don’t worry, babe, I think all of you boys will be able to do those kinds of things later,” you assure him as you pull him down by his tie for a kiss. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not when vice looks as good as you in satin.”

Jake captures your lips in a passionate and lusty kiss that still maintains an air of chastity to it—his mind on the mission of the surprise, but his heart veering towards your shared bed.

“Come on, cariño,” he rasps as he takes your hand and leads you out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“I don’t even get a hint?” you try again as you walk along the sidewalk.

“Tell me what you think we’re doing.”

“Really? Twenty questions on my birthday?”

“Play along,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically as you lace your fingers with his. “It’s definitely somewhere fancy?”

“Is it, though?”

“I’m dressed to the nines. I don’t see how it can’t be somewhere fancy.”

“Or I wanted to show you off.”

“Okay,” you say, processing Jake’s cheeky remark, thinking of all the possibilities. “Well, dinner would be too obvious, so it clearly can’t be that.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “Come on, cariño, I thought you knew me better than this.”

“Ouch, gut punch!” you say, poking at it side. “I’m still thinking. You are an expert at being sneaky, I’m trying to process my options.”

“Well, you should come up with one soon. We’re almost there.”

Knowing the area, you scan through all the storefronts you can bring to your mind, when something clicks with your ensemble.

“Jake Lockley, are you taking me dancing?” you hum as you look over to him, his eyes sparkling in the dim London light.

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” he chuckles as he guides you to the left into a little courtyard that is all done up where other couples are waiting to start the lessons. “We’re gonna put those hips of yours to a different kind of work. Just for a short while, at least.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything fun or culinary up my sleeves,” Marc says as the two of you walk hand in and through the quiet park, the path lit by beautiful old street lamps.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” you tell him. “I know how much effort you all put into today. It’s nice to wrap it all up with dinner and a little stroll.”

A gentle breeze begins to pick up, and Marc immediately shrugs off his bomber jacket to place on your shoulders. You want to protest, but you love having things that he wears on your body—the warmth form his frame, the smell of his skin and cologne, the silent gesture of love.

“Thanks, baby,” you tell him softly as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you have a good day today?” he asks, matching your tone. “I know you mentioned your meetings—.”

“Yeah, the meetings from hell,” you sigh as you roll your neck, the mere thought of them bringing tension to your body. “Not only could they all have been emails, but they were ridiculously long and were so unproductive that we knew less by the end than we did at the start. Debbie led both.”

“Oh no, not Debbie.”

“Mmhm. Don’t get me started with that one.” You let out a long sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “But it’s all worth it, because I get to come home to an amazing system of men who love me.”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. “We love you, too, baby.”

“How about we go home and take a bath? Wind down from the day. Get naked and wet together.”

“Mm, two of my favorite adjectives.”

“Maybe we can add some other adjectives you like to that mix,” you chuckle, lightly checking his hip with yours.

Taking a turn off the path of the park, you hop on the sidewalk and make the short walk back to the flat, snuggling close in the old elevator as it drags its way up to the top floor. 

“You want me to put on a kettle for tea or coffee or something?” you hum as you unlock the door, tossing your keys into the dish as you make your way in. “Or are we going to save all the warm water for—what are you doing?”

In your living room, Marc is perched down on one knee, a little open box in his hands as he looks up at me with his rich brown eyes.

“We were actually gonna do this next week,” Marc starts, his voice soft, the edges brimming with emotion. “But we thought this might be a really great way to end your birthday.”

“Baby . . .”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I need to begin to tell you how much we all love you. If I did, we’d be here for a hell of a long time, I’d loose feeling in my legs from the knee down, and you’d offer to help me walk over to the bed, just like how you are always there to help me and Steven and Jake with whatever comes up. You see us as whole people. You make us feel whole. You have the biggest, most caring heart that a person can have, and you love so selflessly . . .” Marc sniffles and furrows his brows as he tries to keep his cool. You take a few steps toward him, kneeling down and wiping his tears away with your thumbs. 

“Marc,” you say softly, his name on your tongue dripping with emotions.

“We can’t imagine our lives without you in it, and we never want to,” Marc continues. “Will you marry us?”

“Of course,” you practically sob, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. He holds you back just as firm, neither of you saying a word. Marc is the one who eventually breaks the embrace, moving to take out the ring out of the box to slide it on your finger slowly.

“It’s a pink sapphire, but it looks purple, and you love purple—,” Marc starts.

“—and gold jewelry looks so lovely on your skin, cariño—,” Jake continues.

“—and it’s a vintage settin’ so there’s no ill-environmental effects,” Steven finishes. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“You guys are sure?” you sniffle, your teary eyes frantically scanning their faces. “Are you sure you guys love me? That this is what you want?”

“Mi corazón, where is this coming from?” Jake asks softly, brushing tears off of your cheek. “Of course this is what we want. We’ve never felt this way about anyone before. We only want you, amore.”

“It just doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s very real, love,” Steven says, gentle hands on your shoulders as he leans forward to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And you already said yes—there’s no take-backs.”

You let out a wet laugh as you move back in to kiss Steven—he always knows just what to say to bring a smile to your face.

“Well, I guess if there’s no take backs.”

As Steven leans forward to kiss you again, and you feel distinct shift just before we part, and you’re met once more with Marc.

“Is it still a yes?” he asks carefully.

“Of course it’s still a yes. I’ve got the three best guys in the world—why wouldn’t I want to make it official?”

Marc smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen in your life. He leans forward to kiss you once more, his arms wrapping around you tightly and picks you up, much to your surprise. The two of you continue to kiss as he walks you to the bed and lays you down on the mattress, only briefly parting from you to brush some stray hairs off of your face.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, his forehead resting on yours, allowing you to feel his eyelashes brush your cheeks. 

“I love you all so much,” you whisper. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Marc gingerly kisses the tip of your nose. “Forever and always.”

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Marc Spector/Steven Grant Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @later-gators12​

[foreverinadais]

drunk: m.k

summary: after an argument with your boyfriend’s, you all engage in a silent treatment. well, until you get drunk and need jake to pick you up, as well as the others to look after you in your drunken state.

warnings: alcohol use, reader is drunk and in the mood to be a nuisance, sick/vomit, swearing, light angst, fluff!! moon boys taking care of reader, it really goes through the 5 stages of grief in this one 

word count: 3.2k :)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for 400 followers!!!! it’s insane how much support you’ve all shown and i cannot express how much i appreciate it :)

It was around 2 o’clock in the morning when the familiar buzz of a phone echoed around the walls of the flat. It was Jake who awoke to it, cursing under his breath as his eyes refused to open from their interrupted sleep. The buzzing stopped, momentarily offering an ounce of peace which Jake gladly took- until it resumed, a growing insistence in it’s tone which eventually prompted Jake to open his eyes. 

The first thing he did was check his watch. Seeing how late, or early, it was suddenly inserted a sense of urgency in him, as he clambered to turn on the lamp beside the bed and roll his body out. The buzzing was still prevalent as Jake finally reached the phone he shared with his alters. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when your face shone on the screen. 

You hadn’t called in a couple of days now, neither had he, likely due to a rather explosive, extremely stupid, argument you had gotten in with all of them. It was rather rare to be in an argument with all 3 of your boyfriend’s. But after another squabble about schedules and missions, it was bound to blow up, leading to you leaving and giving the silent treatment. Not that any of them tried to stop you, just as in need of the space and reflection time. 

All of you were renowned for your pettiness. Which is why it took Jake a moment to answer the phone. But then, worry settled in as he remembered the time, realised you wouldn’t be calling unless it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t make a move to talk first, figuring you would do that. He was right.

He could hear the muffled booming of music behind you, tacky club sounds that were only tolerable when pissed. Surrounding that, the obnoxious chatter of people Jake could only assume were drunk, all of it moulding into a loud hum in his ears. He cringed in his barely awake state, holding the phone away from his ear briefly before deciding to make his presence known.

“Yeah?”

“Jakeee?” Oh shit. He could automatically tell by your disorientated tone that you were drunk.  “ ‘s that you? Jakey?” He felt annoyance rise in him at your nonchalance to the situation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Yep. Why you calling?” He was being short with you. In your delirious state, you couldn’t tell.

“I need- hiccup – to be p-picked up because ‘m hungry and tireddd and my friend, she left with this girl and I- hello, doggo, your so cute!- need you.” Jake cussed, muttering a few profanities in Spanish before finding words to reply.

“Mierda, fine. Where are you?” 

“Ummm I don’t knowww, wait, excuse me? I love your outfit, wait, sorry, where am I? Can you please message it to my boyfriend- wait can I call him that? We’re- hiccup- angry at each other.” Your voice was slurred, desperate, and Jake suddenly felt a sense of worry at your vulnerability. 

“Go wait inside, hmm?” Jake said through the phone, putting on some shoes and grabbing his cap and jacket. It was then his phone pinged, and he realised the strangers you had accounted yourself with had sent your location. You were still mumbling to them about the argument, about your flat, about how painful your feet were due to the dancing and stupid shoes you’d decided to wear.

Jake left you on the phone as he got in his cab, not wasting anytime as he started the engine and all but sped to where you were. It didn’t take him long to arrive, the roads empty but streets alive with people looking for a good time on a Saturday night. He spotted you instantly. You were sat on the sidewalk, a woman and her partner next to you. Your head was in your hands as your, now bare, feet gently kicked the gravel. He swore again, partly at the state you were clearly in, but also at the remnants of annoyance he felt from the not forgotten vendetta.

Jake pulled over quickly, cap secured on his head as he exited his cab and made his way over to you. The people who were sat with you clocked him, one of them meeting the distance, explaining how they stayed with you until he got there, and that you were in a ‘pretty bad state.’ Jake thanked them, making the short way over to where you were sat, still not aware of his presence. 

“Y/N,” he said simply, now stood in front of you, but you didn’t notice, too lost in the song you were humming under your breath. He sighed, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to touch your forearm. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go.” Your head snapped up; eyes droopy as if you had been sleeping.

“Jakeee you’re here!” You exclaimed, practically falling into his kneeling frame, catching him off guard. “Thought you wouldn’t come because you h-hate me now.” His face twisted in confusion.

“What? Your drunk, let’s get you home, c’mon. Look, I’ll help you up, on three.” You sniffled; arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he helped manoeuvre you both up. You didn’t let go when you were standing, deciding you couldn’t stand. He was reluctant to wrap an arm around your waist, still slightly angry, but more worried it would offend you. But it was clear it was what you needed as you tumbled, shakily attempting to walk to his car- or, rather, a complete stranger’s car. “Fuck, taking too long, just, walk faster.” You did as he said, maybe too literally, as your arms began to get suffocating, as he gripped your waist, helping you both walk to his cab. 

You giggled as his hands unknowingly tickled your side when he helped you get into the passengers seat. “Smells funny in here.” You chuckled, taking an exaggerated sniff of the air. Jake knew it was his cigars he snuck, but chose to ignore you, going to shut the door. “WAIT WHERE ARE YOU- DON’T LEAVE ME!!” your sudden rise in volume made him jump, and he came back as soon as he left. 

“I’m getting in the car, ay.” Before turning back and saying, “Seatbelt.”

“Nonono I can’t do it, won’t get in the… thingy.” Jake had the sudden urge to kick something, forgetting how frustrating drunk you can be, especially when sober. He exhaled deeply through his nose before muttering a ‘fine.’ You gasped as he leant over you, face awfully close to you own, so much so he could smell the alcohol on your breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle again as his gloved hand came down by your side, fumbling for the seatbelt and eventually getting it in the buckle.

It was then you thought of the most hilarious idea ever. As he went to get back up, you wrapped your arms round his shoulder and pulled him, so he nearly collapsed back down onto your lap. You let out a belly laugh, tears squeezing your eyes as he shouted, “QUE MIERDA!” He got out, shutting the door slightly louder than usual as he strode to his seat in the front. “Always playing, I swear, estúpido when drinking,” 

The car was filled with your chuckles, as if Jake had told a joke, but he was deadly silent. What could he say? You were intoxicated. He couldn’t be mad at you right now, not when you wouldn’t remember it. But he didn’t want to be nice to you, still angry, still not ready to put it behind him completely. He was looking forward to get back to the flat where it would become his alters problem.

And truthfully, the smell of your perfume was beginning to intoxicate his senses. 

When the flat finally came into view, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, diminished when he heard your soft snores filling the small space of the cab. He internally cussed at himself, having previously wondered why you had gone suddenly quiet, realising he would not only have to wake you up, but get you inside. 

 Jake turned the key in the ignition, engine shutting off with a slight groan. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, dreading the moments from now until later. “Why has the road stopped moving?” The voice your voice, broke him from his worries, and when he turned to face you, your eyes were already desperately on his.

“Hasn’t, we have. Gotta get out now.”

“W-Wait, your leaving me again? Please don’t leave me here!” Jake felt something in his chest pang with sadness, but he pushed it away, remembering you were drunk and had little control over your heartfelt pleas.

“ ‘m not leaving you, look, we’re getting out the car together, yeah?” He demonstrated opening the door, motioning for you to do the same, and with a small smile of relief, you did. “There ya go.” He praised lightly as you copied his actions. “Now wait there, I’ll come an’ get you.”

 “M’kay, Jakey, I’ll wait.” Fuck. The feeling was back in his chest, harder to push away this time. He did, however, ignore it, long enough to reach where you were sat obediently awaiting him. “Your back!” You quipped excitedly, hands reaching for him in a childlike manner. He didn’t answer, instead helped you up, felt goosebumps arise with every touch of your skin, felt his neck burn as your warm breezed over it.

The journey to the flat wasn’t as hard as he had envisioned. Once you got the hang of walking again, you were off, with his support, of course. You had made it to the door, Jake feeling instant relief wash over him as one of his alters promised it would be their turn. “Marc’s turn now, ‘kay? He’s gonna help- hey, listen, did’ya hear me?”

“Yes, Jake.” You try to say but it comes out as a laugh. “Stay safe.” His voice is stern, but the concern is there, hidden amongst the small façade he always has up. And then his eyes are rolling back, and Jake Lockley is gone for the night- instead, Marc’s there, eyes even harder than his alters. He says nothing as he unlocked the door to the flat, pushing it open with his foot as his arm comes around your waist. You hardly react to the contact, allowing him to guide you through the familiar haze of the apartment, the place that so often felt like home, even when all your senses were torn to shreds.

“Marc…” You suddenly let out, and he notices the buzz on your face has diminished, the way it always does by the end of the night.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to be short with you, really. But a part of him, much like Jake, still held a sort of bitterness- as he always has after an argument. 

“Feel sick.” His own stomach drops as he springs into action, cussing loudly as he all but rushes you to the bathroom. Your cheeks are dramatically puffed with air as you gag, Marc barely getting you to the toilet in time before your spilling the remnants of the night into the basin. He sighed, one hand on firmly on your shoulder, helping hold you up, and the other rubbing soft circles on your back.

“C’mon, there you go, get it all out.” You do, until your insides are aching, and head is pounding. Finally, the sick ends. You practically fall backward, Marc barely catching you as he guides you to lean against the wall, figuring that would be an easier task than standing you back up.

“Hurts.” You whisper, burying your face in your hands, knees to your chest. “Your head?” Marc asks, but he already knows that’s the answer.

“My heart.” Oh. He turned to look at you, properly, for the first time since you came into the flat; you look terrible. Your top is hanging off your body, the action of leaning over the basin making it scramble to stay on right. Your mascara is smudged from tears. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, drooping further by the minute, and your hair has become a mess on top of your head.

Yet, Marc can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

No matter what situation you all found yourselves in, he would always think that. Always. 

When he next spoke, the edge to his voice was gone, replaced with a layer of sympathy and compassion- not that you noticed, nor particularly cared. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helped you stand up on your feet, trying to ignore your soft sniffles as you came down form the high of a night out. He couldn’t help but swipe a tear away from your cheek, leaving his thumb for a second longer than he knew he should, just to revel in your skin.

He started by wiping off as much of your make-up as he could, using one of the wipes you had stocked in his cupboard. When he turned on the tap, you groaned. “Hey, it’s okay, look, it’ll help your headache.”

“Noo, ‘s cold.”

“It’ll feel nice.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Pinkie promise?” Marc rolled his eyes as you held up your pinkie finger but didn’t refuse it. Instead, he interlocked his own with yours, grateful to see a least the hint of a smile tugging at the end of your lips. The water did ,in fact, offer some comfort from the heat and sweat on your skin, and you thanked Marc for keeping his promise. “Good job. Wanna brush your teeth?” 

“You still have my toothbrush.” It was the first coherent sentence you had said in a while. He followed to where you were pointing, your toothbrush stood proudly with the boys. “Course, we do. It’s only been a few days.” “Thought you’d throw it away by now.”

“What d’you mean?” 

“That you don’t love me anymore.” Marc swore his heart broke a little. His thoughts became jumbled, swirling around each other as he took in your words. 

“What… are you, are you serious?”

 “Can you do it for me?”

“Huh?” It took a moment for him to register what you were asking until you grabbed your toothbrush and held it out for him.

“Please?” Perhaps it was your pleading, or your eyes whilst saying it, but Marc couldn’t resist, taking the toothbrush and getting it ready. It was silly, really silly, especially since your mouth was already open as wide as it could be, teeth on display. Marc cleared his throat, debating on whether this was a task he wanted to do, before deciding the sooner he did, the sooner you could go to sleep. And so, he did.

You didn’t react at first, not even when Marc talked you through the first step. But suddenly, you found the situation rather amusing, a giggle leaving your lips as Marc brushed your back teeth. “What?” You didn’t respond at first, just laughed, and he found himself laughing too.

“’s weird.” You whispered, a hiccup escaping your mouth as Marc agreed.

“Certainly didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Sorry that I ruined your plans.”

“Yeah, well, your lucky I love you.” It came out so naturally, without question, that even in your drunken state, you knew he meant it. It was silent for the rest of the minute. When you were done, Marc told you to spit, which you did immediately. Marc suddenly realised what you were wearing. “Oh shit, wait here, lemme get you some clothes.”

“But I’m wearing clothes.”

“Clothes to sleep in.”

“…oh.” You said suggestively, and Marc raised an eyebrow.

“Stop messin’ around, need to get you changed.”

“Okay, Marc.”

“You gonna wait here?”

“Whatever you say, Marc.” His heart dropped every time you said his name, as if it were given a different meaning every time it left your lips. He was back quickly with one of the tops from the draw you had in their flat, the one he knew was your favourite.

“Arms up, baby.” The name slipped out, but you didn’t notice- it might’ve well as been your name from him. You obliged, silent now. He was grateful that the task didn’t take long, and soon enough, you were dressed comfortably. “All done.” He muttered, mostly to himself, but you smiled, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you, Marc.” He let his thumb rub over the skin of your palm, let his eyes lock with yours, pupils dilated. And then it wasn’t his eyes you were staring at anymore. “Hello, Steven.” You whispered, smiling.

“Hiya, lovie. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He had already helped you up, hand still holding yours as he directed you the short distance to the bed.  

“Why, Mr Grant, are you trying to get me into bed?”

“Very funny. C’mon, your very tired, practically fallin’ asleep walking, eh? Besides, your much too drunk to do anything expect from sleep peacefully. Look, I’ll tuck you in so you can do just that.” Steven pulled the duvet back for you to climb into the bed, and you instantly found comfort in their smell, the sheets that moulded against your body so well. It was familiar, it was home.

Steven kept his promise, pulling the duvet tightly over your body so that it was hugging you. He even went as far as lifting your head up with one hand plumping the pillow behind it, before gently placing it back down. “All better.” He muttered, proud at his work of making you a human cocoon.

“Thank you, Steven.”

“Your very welcome. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes already closing from the undeniable comfort of the sheets.

“Okay. Welp, if you change your mind, gimme a shout, okay? I’ll just be on the sofa.” Your eyes shot back open, realisation hitting as you felt his presence leaving your side.

“No, wait, w-where are you going? Why are you leaving me?” Your eyes were getting watery as your hand reached out to tug on Steven’s shirt.

“No-no-no, ‘m not leaving you, would never leave you… I’m just over there, look.” You didn’t glance as he tried to show you the sofa, eyes trained on his own.

“Please…can you stay with me?” His eyes widened slightly, not sure if he should, not sure if you would wake up and be mad at him for staying in the same bed after not being on speaking terms. But the pout on your lips, the gentle tug on his shirt, the tears in your eyes… he agreed, slowly getting into the bed next to you.

He was surprised when you instantly snuck out his warmth, snuggling into his side and breathing a sigh of relief. His arms sought place on your frame- one over your shoulders, the other stroking the back of your neck. He thought you were asleep when your breathing got heavier, until your voice spoke again.

“Steven?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you angry at me?” He smiled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see.

“No, love.”

“Really?”

“Course not. It’s in the past, yeah? Let’s just focus on getting you rested and better.”

“So you’ll stay with me?”

“All night long ‘till the sun comes up.”

“Steven?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.”

“Of course, love.” And he smiled as he heard your gentle snores, feeling on the cusp of sleep himself. “Always.”

tags: @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux​ @lovepeaceorelse​ @lokilover476 @alexxavicry @later-gators12​ 

[angelmichelangelo]