#jake lockely fanfic

[madwomansapologist]

Moonlight Meets Sunlight | Chapter 1 - Shoot for the moon

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series synopsis: A lot changed for Steven Grant after meeting Marc Spector. He lost his job, travelled the world, became a hero. And now back in London he's going to change one more thing: Steven will give love a chance. He can only hope that you accept him. And Marc, and Konshu, and what he hasn't discovered yet about himself.

first chapter synopsis: Steven Grant wasn't the same. Not after he met Marc Spector and ending up saving the world (he isn't bragging). Steven understood that he was braver than he ever thought he was. But not around you. And i's not like he wants to change that. [3.7K]

warnings: fluff. falling in love. steven "i can treat you better" grant. first date? bit by bit we fall in love. canon level of violence. moon boys x reader. female!reader. latina!reader.

Steven Grant had been waiting for over two hours, but he was some sort of expert on keeping himself entertained. He wandered through the National Art Gallery’s exit, listed all different strategies to solve a Rubik’s cube, chattered to an uninterested Marc about the documentary he watched that same morning.

And still, a few times Steven thought about going home. Maybe you weren’t working that day. You could be on vacation. Or you could’ve went home before he got there. For all he knows, you could not even work here anymore.

“That’s her car, dumbass,” a pair of furrowed brows and concerned eyes oscillated in a storefront on the other side of the street. Everytime Steven stands, thinking that this time he really should go, Marc Spector shuts him down. “Just sit down and wait, for god's sake.” 

Steven knew he was right. The black sedan was right there, the only car parked close to the hidden service door. Steven noticed it, and he knew for sure that it was yours because of the huge risk on the passenger’s door. And still, his nervousness made him forget.

It's not that he doesn't want to be there. Steven spent the last few weeks constantly thinking about you. About seeing you again. Talking to you. Laughing with you. Just existing, being there, but with you. With his first real friend. All Steven wanted was to see you again, to hear your voice.

And it was you whom he feared the most.

It has been weeks. For Steven it was the most bizarre and marvelous time of his life. But for you he just vanished. Got fired for destroying a bathroom and then… nothing. Nothing for weeks. Steven was gone in the same way he's back: without a good, reasonable explanation.

Steven Grant has been waiting for two hours and that would make anyone upset, but he's sure you waited longer.

He feared you wouldn't ever look again into his eyes again. That you would hear his voice and turn your back on him, as if he's a ghost you need to believe don’t exist. Steven feared your grudge and rage, but he also feared the possibility that you haven’t even notice his absence. That maybe all you felt towards him was indifference, and his delicate heart mistoke it for a real human conection.

"She don’t. And she wouldn’t do any of that to you," Marc crooned. Even away from him, Steven could see those crossed arms and tense eyes. Browns so used to look like a straight line. Once again, here comes Marc to end his doubts.

"And how can you be so sure of that, mate?"

"She isn't mean," Marc replied, looking away.

Marc didn’t want to here, and Steven knows that. He made clear it was a Steven’s problem. He was only there because Steven begged for it. Steven knew that if he needed to be alone with his thoughts about you, their organs could get really near a spontaneous combustion.

When they finally decided to cooperate with one another, Steven understood that most of Marc’s choices were done to protect him. To keep him safe and sound, unaware of anything that could maim him. Is not that Steven is weak, but that he’s gentle. He’s kind. And Marc needs to keep that as it is. Marc needs to keep Steven pure, because no one did that for him.

The only problem is that he’s used to leave people clueless about his decisions.

Like leaving London. Steven didn’t have a say on that. He didn’t chose to travel. To fight Harrow. To leave you behind just as clueless as he was. To vanish without a word. Without a goodbye. Without saying what he really wanted to say since he understood your soul.

For some time he thought Marc hated you. He could’ve at least send you a message. A good lie or a bad one, it didn’t matter. He could’ve at least texted you. Knowing about Steven’s feelings towards you, Marc could’ve done anything expect leaving the way he did. If Marc was indifferent about you, he could’ve think that Steven wasn’t and just done something.

But if he’s here, if he’s even helping, that means Marc doesn’t actually hates you. Or that he at least don’t see you as a threat to Steven’s heart.

Hearts are made to be broken, he said to Marc once they finally got back to London. Marc got used to see him as the naive, but Steven is more than people think. More than himself thinks. It’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you will. You have no other option.

A gentle breeze made Steven breath in, relaxing against the cold concrete wall. He don’t remember closing his eyes, but he opened them after the thump of a closing door. And when his eyes started working again, Steven saw you.

Steven couldn’t see your face, but he was absolutely sure that the person running down stairs with a cardboard box in hands was you. He could recognize you anywhere. Your lingering scent, the way you walk like you’re alway running out of time. The fact you were arguing through the phone wedge between your shoulder and your face helped just a bit.

“That’s bullshit. I didn’t said that, and you know it,” you yelled. In your defense, you were supossed to be alone. It was too for someone else to be Around the staff’s exit. “There’s nothing you can say that would make up for the fact that you can’t do a simple thing for me. All you had to do was to show up.”

It was already difficult to walk with that immense box in your hands, but to do it while you were boiling with rage? That’s a whole other thing. You managed to not fall, and that was a hell of a accomplishment.

“You’re always telling me I should let you in my life, but if I can’t count on you it’s all your fault,” you replied searching for your keys. You chocked on your words, so fucking mad you felt tears forming in your eyelids. “Go on. Blame me for your mistakes.”

By the time you managed to open the passenger seat’s door and settle the box there, your left arm ache because of the weight. You touched the collar that muzzled you. The sun pendant dangled from your neck, so heavy. When you were about to take it off, you heard the audacity on his voice.

You closed the door so hard that it startled Steven.

“Damn man,” Marc hissed. “Your timing is awful.”

“You really gonna do this to me? Isso só pode ser brincadeira.” You walked towards the driver seat, squeezing your purse so hard it could explode. “Do as you wish, but then don’t get surprised to find out that you’re single.”

Without hearing what he had to say, you ended the call. He don’t want to argue? That’s fine. Now he won’t hear about you at all. Fuck him, fuck his bad habits and fuck you for falling for his sweet lies.

Jeff is always saying that he’s the one, that you need to trust him with your bad days and worst sides, that he wanted to meet your parents, your friends, your colleagues. That he’s more than just a guy, that he’s your future.

When the greek department decided to celebrate the new acquisitions, you thought it would be a perfect way to let him in. It was an important event. You even made a speech. A Whole speech, one that people actually wanted to hear. It was an important night for you, one that you wanted to share with him.

Here you are. With a dress too expensive, a blurred makeup and a mouth tired of repeating there was a change of plans, he won’t be able to get here in time.

How can you keep on being the foolish one? The one that knows what people want. The one who acts as sweet and kind and fun even when no one gives you a reason to. The one that fake smiles for the pictures with burning eyes.

What a night. What a fucking night. And now you need to drive, which is something you hate, and at home your company will be that box filled with documents and receipts. And wine. A lot of wine.

“Is everything alright?”

You jumped at the sudden revelation that you weren’t alone, your hands instintictively rising to your chest. Even before you saw him, at the end of the stairs you just ran down, you knew who was talking to you. How couldn’t you? 

Steven Grant is memorable, and so is his accent.

The man who was supposed to be there for you vanished without a care, and the one you had given up on waiting stands right in front of you.

It was like seeing a ghost. You were all startled. All you could do was to look at him, to check every inch of his skin in search of… you don’t really know. Maybe in search of a proof that he’s real. Maybe in search of a proof that those past few weeks were nothing but a realistic nightmare.

You thought about not answering. To just turn your back on him, get on your car and drive home trying to make yourself believe that it was all a hallucination. You also did imagined you screaming at him, and then getting on you car. 

Every option ended with you running away. And maybe you would, maybe you could, but you made the mistake of looking into Steven’s brown eyes. Damn his eyes. Without your permission, your soul dive into them.

“Not really,” you whispered. Only then you noticed how close you were from crying. “Far from that, really.”

Your gentle eyes, forever marked on his mind, reflected the moon. Your hair, framing your face with a sense of liberation, lured him. Not even your tense, scared posture could hide your lightness. You seemed to have this natural glow, this magnetic pulsar that makes the world orbit around you.

A light that could put the sun on shame. 

“Stop staring at her,” he saw Marc’s reflection on one of your car’s windows. His arms were still crossed, just as his brows were still a straight line. But his eyes were fixed on you. Maybe he too couldn’t look away. “Just apologize already.”

Steven stepped further, unable to say anything. All the memories of you, every second he spend beside you talking shit about your bosses or just wandering through the museum with the other dumping random knowledges, it just blossom. All he could do was to let your light in.

“And do you always get home this late at night?”

“We received five vases today. Homeric period,” while Steven was moving closer, all you did was to stand where you were. You heartbeat was so loud it could deafen you. “So for the next weeks, yes.”

“Oh,” Steven licked his lips. “Did you knew that…”

“What the hell happened to you?” Suddenly your brain finally connect itself with you mouth. That rage he saw you aiming at your phone came back, and now it was all focused on him. And Steven knew he deserved it. “You disappeared.”

“I swear than I can explain.”

“Then do it,” when Steven hesitated, you threw your purse at him. Marc choked. “Say something, Steven! You disappeared! I thought you… Fuck, I don’t even know what I thought. What happened? No hesitation, no lies, no half-truths. What happened?”

“No, Steven, don’t fucking do it,” scolded Marc. “She’ll think you’re mocking her, or that you’re crazy and…”

Normally Steven is the clueless one. Normally you don’t yell or throw purses at him. Normally Marc is the one deciding for them both without asking first. But what about his life was normal?

So he just did it as you said. He told you about waking up on a different country, being chased by a jackal, Arthur Harrow’s plan of releasing Ammit, his battles in Egypt. His death. Steven is Konshu’s Avatar, his Moon Knight, and he saved the world. 

No hesitation, no lies, no half-truths.

You walked towards him, and for endless seconds Steven couldn’t breath. “Liar,” you grabbed your purse. Turning your back on him, you fitted they key the car door and opened it. He thinks you’re foolish, but running away was your initial plain.

But the pearly glow made you look back.

You put your purse chain on your arm and locked your car, walking towards the hero in front of you. Steven faced appeared, the white material sliding away. His brow eyes were back, and if he only knew the effect they have on you he would never cover them again.

“I’m too sober for this,” you sighed. “C’mon. Don’t make me regret this, Steven Grant.”

“I won’t,” Steven promised. Once again you were wrong about someone. At least this time it wasn’t a bad thing. “I would never.”

Marc followed throught the storefronts on the other side of the street, speecheless.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Marc is,” you hesitated. Too many questions lingered your mind, and your ability to verbalize them were messed by the empty bottles lying on the balcony. “Like a brother or something?”

Compared to you, Steven drank nothing. But for him, it was way more than enough. He never drank that much before, maybe because he never had someone to drink with. 

Steven nodded, his face supported on his right hand. He couldn’t feel his legs. “Like a brother.”

“And do you have other brothers?”

Reflect on the mirror bellow the the bottle’s shelf on the bar, Marc chortle. You were worried about how to handle his DID, unsure of what to say or to think, but he liked the way you worded your doubt. It was naive, but not in a bad way. Naive just as Steven is naive.

“Just the two of us,” murmured Steven. “Althought two is more than enough, innit?”

You giggled. All that tension from before just disappeared. Steven told you the truth, exactly what you asked him for. And the truth was enough. Forgave and forgotten, as you told him earlier. Steven being safe and sound in front of you was more than enough. “Sure it is.”

“Do you have brothers?” Steven grabbed his beer, and only noticed it was empty when it was on his mouth. Just when thought he should change for water, the barman quickly came with two more open bottles. “Cheers,” said Steven.

His accent really was something.

“Cheers,” you took a sip of yours. “One. He’s a complete knobhead. More than enough, I assure you.”

Perhaps due to the heat emanating from your body, thanks to the beer and the closed environment, the necklace bothered you again. You felt like a chained dog. It was difficult to breathe. You opened it, the heavy pendant falling into your lap. When you put it in your bag, Steven gasped.

“You’re bruised,” he told you. Steven reach out for you. He didn’t even thought about it, he just brushed his fingers through the warm skin of your collarbone.

The weight of his fingers, the careful pressure he put on your skin, was welcome. His warmth didn’t bother you. Not at all. “I shouldn’t have ran down stairs,” you said. “It’s just a heavy necklace, Steven. I’m fine.”

Steven caressed your skin one last time before realizing what he have done. He pulled away from you, worried that he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t. Steven didn’t even notice how for a second you followed his hand, already missing his gentle touch.

It’s been three, maybe four hours since you both entered the first open bar you could find. So it’s been three or four hours since you both didn’t shut up for a second. “So…” Steven licked his lips, looking at his hands. “New vases?”

“I’m responsible for finding out if they are what the sellers say they are,” you started. “They are respect on the market, but there is only one way to know if you’re dealing with a Glarifa Rosales. And it’s by doing your fucking job.”

You told him about it before. The biggest case of fraud in the art world. Glarifa Rosales selled Rothko’s and Pollock’s for millions of dollars to the Knoedler Gallery, which then selled them for even more. In the end, everything was done by a chinese imigrant that always dreamed of being a successful painter. In a sense, he really was.

“Tomorrow I will go the lab and get the results about the ceramic footprint. If it’s true, than maybe you’ll have the honor of hear me talking no stop about their history.” You laugh at your own words. “The only problem is that it will get ready so late at night, which means…”

“Driving,” completed Steven, with a smile so sweet Marc worried about having toothache. So down bad for you, Marc thought. “And I would love to hear about them. Are they about The Odissey?”

Here’s the thing: Steven don’t just listens to you, he devours every word you say.

“One is a Apolo’s prophecy, the others tell the story of him and Cassandra. You know, the girl who knew the future but couldn’t make anyone believe her.”

“Tell me more about it,” Steven asked.

And of course you would.

“Only if you tell me more about Konshu,” you replied.

And of course he would.

In his absence, you almost forgot about how easy it was to be with Steven. Almost. It was like he could just see when you wanted to speak or when you needed to listen. Since the moment you both meet, with him dropping cold tea on your heels and his manager almost begging for your pardon, Steven just knew you.

It was so easy to be with him that you only remembered that you needed to go home when they started closing the bar. You didn’t even noticed the time passing. You both wandered through the streets, surrounded by a fog of inebriation. The world felt so light, so young and careless.

This time talking about Konshu, you barely looked forward the street. You just glared as Steven, listening with as much attention as when he listened to you. You really did, until your phone rang, disturbing your peace.

You tone it down immediately after seeing who was calling, but Steven noticed the change on your humor. “I asked you before and I gonna ask you again,” warned Steven. “Is everything alright?”

“Far from it,” you repeated yourself. “Far from it.”

Steven isn’t selfish. He don’t do things without thinking about other’s feelings first. There are a lot of people who don’t give a damn about who they hurt on their path to get what they want, but Steven isn’t like that. So when he told you that you deserved better, he really meant it. Even if it wasn’t him, he meant it.

“It’s not that bad,” you said. You didn’t knew if you were defending him or diminishing yourself. “He... how do I say that? Deu uma bola fora. Made a mistake, for lack of better words.”

“It was a important night, wasn’t it?” You nodded. “If I were him, I wouldn’t forget it. I wouldn’t forget anything about you.”

“You only say that because you would love to spend the rest of your life inside a museum,” you giggled.

“But I mean it,” Steven reassured you. “You deserve someone that remembers. Someone that cares. And if he can’t see the treasure he holds, than he don’t deserve you.”

“It isn’t so simple, Steven.”

“Indulge me.”

“I’m alone,” your words took Steven by surprise. “In this city, in this country. My family is an ocean of distance, and most of the time I feel like I can’t relate to anyone because I barely understand what people are saying. Without him, I’m alone. And being alone sucks.”

When you saw the look on his, you lightly pushed him by the shoulder. “What’s with that face of yours?” You chuckled. “It’s not that deep, don’t need to get all emotional over that. Don’t worry about me.”

“I think I should,” Steven whispered. It just didn’t make sense. How could you think, feel that way? “And I think you’re a bit stupid.”

“Repeat that,” it sounded like a warning.

“You’re a bit stupid,” Steven repeated. You blinked, just staring at him. “Look at you. You’re bloody amazing. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful. If Jeff don’t see that, he’s a idiot. If you don’t, then you’re one too.”

“Damn,” you murmured. You pointed at him, a playful smile on your face. “You know, you’re so lucky for being cute. I wouldn’t put up with any of your shit if you didn’t look like a lost puppy.”

She thinks I’m cute, was all Steven heard from what you said.

Of course she does, Steven.

Looking towards the street, you found what you were looking for. You made a sign for the cab, and soon it was speeding up. “Where are you heading to? Maybe we’re going to the direction.”

“DID YOU FORGOT ABOUT YOUR OATH?”, Konshu appeared at the end of the street, just as the cab passed by it. That fucker thinks he’s in a horror movie, always chosing to act like a jump scare instead of just acting normal.

But again, there was something normal about his life? About their life?

“Is it Marc?” You gave a step back when the cab stopped. A crack, a sound that went unnoticed by Steven’s ears, made you look at were you stepped. A ceramic sun, now broken, stand where you stepped. Weird, you thought to yourself. “Konshu?”

“The second,” he said.

“And what did the lying pigeon said?”

Steven don’t think he ever heard Marc laughing so hard. With Konshu saying something about INSOLENT VERMS, Steven opened the cab’s door for you. “That I have work to do.”

“You won’t disappear again, will you?”

Steven shook his head, a light smile on his face. “Never again, I swear,” he said. You took it as an oath, one that you would made sure that he would never forget about it. “Have a good night. No, a good morning. Bom dia.”

“Bye, Steven,” you rolled your eyes. “Bye, Marc.”

When the cab disappeared, Steven took a deep breath. So did Marc.

MOONLIGHT MEETS SUNLIGHT TAGLIST: @notanalienindisguiseblink

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[jake-g-lockley]

Gentle Sutures (Marc Spector x reader) 

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A/N: This story is for my dearest @softieekay thank you for being there for me <3 Warnings: slight hints of past abuse, but the rest is fluffly fluff flufffff

Word count: 1.4k ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc Spector was head over heels in love. He had been standing in one spot for god knows how long, staring at you while you worked. Never in his life was he accustomed to so much calm. If his alter did not sign him up for volunteering, he would have just been sitting at home, sulking as usual. Now all he wanted to do is walk over to you and tuck the beautiful coil of hair that frames your face behind your ear, not that it bothered him, he just wanted to touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips. "It’ll only take a second, auntie." you said, the biggest, most purest smile gracing your face.

Marc grew to love that smile in the past few months travelling around with you. You are a junior resident, always keeping to yourself but you lit up the whole woom whenever you interacted with patients. In the times that he spoke to you, or gained the courage to approach you, he found out that all you wanted in this world was to help people in need. He knew from the way you would treat them, you would definitely become a world class doctor.

Marc watched as your dexterous hands drew blood as quick as ever, even before the patient got a chance to wince.

"Are you a nurse, my dear, your blood drawing technique is excellent! '' the patient exclaimed.

"Oh no, auntie, I am merely a doctor. "You smiled shyly.

"Well, coming from a former nurse, you make an amazing doctor, my dear!" the patient said, taking ahold of your hand.

Marc could tell that you had a faraway look in your eyes, just for a few seconds before snapping out of it and squeezing the patient's hand back. Your eyes suddenly met Marc's as if you knew he was watching and Marc swore his heart nearly stopped when you gave him a small smile.

"Marc, I think it's time for you to walk away and stop gawking at her like a lost pigeon, mate." Steven suddenly said, making Marc blink and turn on his heel comically, almost running into another volunteer.

“That one’s handsome.” your patient tells you as you snickered at the confused army man.

Your eyes widened and you covered it with a gentle scoff.

“I don't date who I work with, auntie." you say sticking a plaster on the patient's arm.

"But you're thinking about it." the patient says with a sing-songy voice. as she gets up and you roll your eyes playfully.

Truth be told, you thought Marc Spector was one of the most interesting human beings you're met. Whenever you had the chance to look into his eyes, you knew he had been through a lot. You felt like you wanted to unlock every single secret behind those eyes but at the same time you wanted to help him forget all of them.

You watched as Marc stumbled around for a while, mumbling to himself. You watched as a little boy toddled up to him and started pulling on his housers. Marc turned and startled himself but knelt down next to the boy and smiled.

You felt something pull at your heartstrings as you watched Marc interact with the boy. Your hand immediately found your necklace as your thoughts dived into your past. You strained hard to keep the thoughts at bay but it only made you tremble. you pulled the chair behind you and slumped on it, the horrible yelling filling your head and ears.

You didn't realise you had your head in your hands and that you were not breathing until you heard your name. You lifted your head and your eyes met big brown ones which were full of concern and worry.

Marc tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your face in his hands. You found yourself mimicking the breathing he was making you do and soon your heart slowed and you calmed down. You closed your eyes and leaned into Marc's touch as his thumb stocked your cheekbone.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. '' You whispered, but Marc was already shaking his head gently.

"You have nothing," Marc's thumb wipes the tear dripping out of your eyes, " to be sorry about.

You sighed and nodded, your hand caressing Marc's hand  that was so ever gently cupping your face.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You looked up at the sky and sighed as you placed your kindle aside. You felt better now, but you kept imagining Marc's beautiful brown eyes calming you down. You breathed in, the salt in the air filling your lungs with warmth. The rhythmic cadence of the waves echoed like gentle sutures, delicately mending the fractures in your tender heart.

"You don't look like the beach kind of person, you know. "A deep Chicago drawl suddenly interrupted your thoughts.

You gasped as you turned to your left, big brown eyes and tanned skin meeting your sight. The eyes widened slightly and the person moved back slightly.

“Sorry, sorry, you scared me for a second. Too stealthy dude!” you chuckled, clutching your chest.

"Force of habit." the army man gives you a gentle smile and scooches closer.

The both of you sit in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the waves and watching the sky print its own masterpiece as the sun sets over the horizon. The silence was comforting, and Marc's presence was more than a warm blanket that you had been expecting all your life.

You were the first to look away from the sunset.

Marc was absolutely stunning in the evening glow. You found yourself smiling at the way the corners of his eyes pinched as he gazed at the view before him. The hook of his nose and his plump lips made the blood rush to your face.

“You done gawking yet, doctor?” Marc smiled and turned to you.

“I was not gawking” you scoff, which made Marc belt out a laugh.

Suddenly, Marc’s hand was on your face. He plucks something from your face and shows it to you.

“Eyelash.” Marc turns his whole body towards you and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Make a wish, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to just have peace and quiet. Your life has been loud and scary, a little quiet would be all you need to heal. Peace would mend your heart and god knows where you would ever find it, but you wished with all your heart.

With that, you blew and felt warmth fill your heart.

“Hey.” Marc whispered .

You slowly open your eyes to see Marc looking at you with a dopey, boyish look on his face.

“You are an amazing door, you know that?” He says, cupping your face with his left hand, his right reaching for yours that were on your lap. 

“And you're gorgeous.” you swoon, your brain misfiring the second you leaned into his touch.

“Woah, where did that come from?” you say, pulling slightly back, but Marc held you in place.

“You are exceptionally gorgeous too, sweetheart.” Marc quips and gives you the most dazzling smile.

Nothing could have prepared you or Marc for how you reacted next. You leaned in and placed the softest kiss you've given anyone on Marc's lips. You pulled yourself back almost immediately, your hand flying to your lips as you watched a bewildered expression creep up Marc's face. “Oh god Marc, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that, don’t know what’s happening-”

“Shut up and let me do that again” Marc cut your jabbering off instantly.

With a lurch, Marc pressed his lips to yours and you felt your body give way as your hands gripped at his shirt, falling and pulling him down with you. You deepened the kiss and Marc groaned into your mouth. When you both finally broke apart, you were out of breath and Marc pressed soft kisses on your neck until you came to.

“That was …” “Absolutely amazing, just like you.” Marc gazes down at you, admiring the way your hair is splayed around you like a halo and the light of the sunset making your skin glow. Marc lays down next to you pulling you closer to him as the both of you stare into each other’s eyes as if you were searching for something. “What now?” you whispered, your heart preparing itself to hear the worse from Marc. “You don’t need to worry about what is next, my angel, just be in the moment.” Marc’s words curled around your scared heart, encasing it in peace like no other. “I’m glad I found you.” you say, tears forming in your eyes.” “I’m glad I found you too sweetheart.” Reblogs are appreciated ~~ Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas  @euphoricosmo  @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @britishscum @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @thewintervalkyrie @anonymously35 @nerdreader @marylovesdilfs @jakelockleysdoll @pigeonmama @sarveshishwarishsuta

[cowboymarcs]

blow

marc spector x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral sex (m recieving)

having marc’s cock in your mouth was one of your favorite things. the way his veins gently scraped against your teeth sent a thrill through you. his thick, muscular thighs around your head made you see stars. you looked up at him, almost sure that you had hearts for eyes. 

he stared down at you, eyes lidded and gaze hazy. you sucked harder, enjoying the moan that left his lips and the way his head fell back. you released with a pop, licking up the saliva that pooled at his balls. you took his balls in your hand, massaging and contemplating putting them in your mouth. 

your fingers trailed over his sensitive sack. his thighs tensed in anticipation, waiting for you to suck it. you thought about teasing him. thought about kissing everywhere but his groin, making his shudder and beg for more, but ultimately decided against it; you wanted to see him come. 

you took his balls in your mouth, sucking, and hand pumping his cock. your palm skating up and down, thumb massaging the head once you came to the top. you smeared his precum up and down along his length. your fingers tightened slightly, hoping, praying that he would make some noise for you. 

marc complied, groaning and keeping his gaze on you. god, you wanted to make him come so bad. you wanted to see his thighs tense up and shake, to feel his hand gripping your hair, biceps and forearms showing in the most delicious ways. his balls left your mouth, and you made quick work to take his cock down your throat.

you pushed his cock into your mouth as far as it could go, nose brushing the coarse hair at his base. you gagged, making his hand grasp the hair at your scalp and push, spurring you on. 

“yeah, that’s it baby, choke on my dick,” marc grunted out, his dark eyes watching. you moaned at his words, choking again on his thick length. he pulled you off, and you gasped for air, spit dribbling down your chin. marc stood from the bed, and you watched his cock bounce, eager to have it back in your mouth.

you lined your mouth back up and looked at him. 

“this okay?” 

you nodded fiercely, needing his cock back in your mouth. marc didn’t waste any time. he slid his wet cock back into your throat and set a steady pace. the way his head hit the back of your throat made you delirious with pleasure. the way his length slid against your tongue made your panties dampen with need. 

his hips slapped against your face with ferocity, cock hardening even more – if possible – with the urge to come. his hand gripped your hair, fingers digging into your scalp. the pain felt like pleasure with his hands on you. you spared a glance up, hoping to meet his eyes, only to find the strained muscles of his neck as his head was thrown back. he was panting, chest heaving. his other hand reached down and buried itself in your hair. he was moments away now, you knew it. his breath quickened to match the pace of his hips. 

“i’m gonna- fuck. i’m gonna come baby…” it was all he said before his hips stilled and his come spilled down your throat. you kept sucking, hoping to drain him of every drop, wanting to be full of his seed. as he came down, thrusts slowing, and breath evening, you released his cock from your mouth. you sat back, inspecting to see if you missed any drops. 

marc fell backwards, collapsing on the bed with a sigh of fulfillment, his cock throbbing from release. he reached down, grabbing your underarms and pulling you to sit atop him. you felt his cock against your clit and whimpered. his fingers found the underside of your chin, pulling you into a searing, open-mouthed kiss. 

the taste of him was heavenly. 

[vintagegirl01]

How Would the Moon Boys React: To you calling them by their first name based on the internet trend below: https://youtu.be/3FOLHWDY-4c?si=ZXIl1UkcNSCdvaZ4

Steven:

You and Steven have spent the day cleaning up around the flat and running errands around the city. Therefore, you both decided it would be best to unwind by reading in bed together.

Steven comes back into your bedroom with two mugs of tea for the both of you. You peck his lips in thanks.

“Hey Steven, before you sit down, can you please pass me that book on your nightstand?”

He turns around quickly. “Who is that?”

You giggle. “Steven, can you please pass the book over?”

Steven looks at you with those puppy eyes you love so much.“Why did you call me, Steven?”

“Because It’s your name, silly.”

“I’m not Steven. I’m your honey bunny.”

“Steven…”

“Honey bunny!”

“Steven…”

“ I’m not, Steven. I’m your honey bunny and that’s that.”

You smile and nuzzle into his chest. “Yes, you are.”

Marc:

You and Marc are watching a show on television, scrolling through your phones. Then something interesting comes up that reminds you of Marc that you just had to show him.

“Hey Marc, can I show you something?”

He looks up from his phone. “What did you just say?”

You start repeating your question again.“Can I show you some…?”

“I heard that part. I meant before that.”

“Hey Marc…?”, you say confusedly.

“Oh shit… what day is it?”, he starts checking his phone and looks up at the calendar.

No important dates. He thinks. Did he leave the toilet seat up? Did he forget to do the dishes? Did he leave on a mission without giving her a goodbye kiss before leaving?

“Hello. Earth to Marc…Baby, are you okay?”

“You called me baby? You aren’t mad at me?

You giggle.“No. But I was worried you were upset.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before Marc engulfs you in a hug. “I love you.”

You wrap your arms around him. “I love you too, baby.”

Jake:

Jake is currently working on his car outside of the flat. As a good girlfriend, you decide to go out and offer him some refreshments.

When you get outside, you see him working under the hood of his car.

“Hey Jake, I brought you some water and…”

You then hear Jake hit his head against the hood of the car as he mutters some curse words in Spanish.

You look at him concerned. “Jake, are you okay?”

“Cariño, stop calling me that!”, he says exasperated.

“What, by your name?”

“My name is Jake to you. It’s babe, baby, or daddy”, he says, giving you a smirk.

“Jake!”, you giggle.

“That’s it! He carries you over his shoulders and “You won’t be calling me Jake after this.”

“But your car…”, you start saying before he quickly interrupts you.

“Forget the car. I have more important matters to attend to”, he says as he enters your flat and locking the door.

[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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[foreverinadais]

One Call: m.s , j.l , s.g

Summary:  Marc, Jake and Steven, your ex’s, ran into trouble and, as a result, are thrown into jail. At a loss, they ( begrudgingly ) use their only call on you in hopes you will bail them out. 

Pairings: ex!marc spector x reader , ex!jake lockley x reader , ex!steven grant x reader

Warnings: angst (!!!), they’re all readers ex’s, cussing, fluff, forced proximity, tension, jake being a bit of an asshole, *steven being sad* , kinda unhappy ending but there will be another part, this is part of the ex! moon boys x reader series but can be read stand alone, unrequited requited feelings, not being over your ex and vice versa. 

Word Count: 5.8 k

the ex! series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

You should’ve known it was them the moment your phone started ringing. You had awoken with a start, heart pounding out of your chest at the loud intrusion to your sleep. It took you a brief moment to register what the sound was, the thick layer of sleep still hovering in your mind. But then, the familiarity of the ringtone settled into your brain.

You hardly registered the time- 03:27am- before picking up your phone.

Unknown Number.

The words made you hesitate. But only briefly, for then you were answering. “Hello?” Your voice was croaky from just waking up, and you coughed slightly. There was a small silence. You tried again.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat before dropping through your stomach completely. You recognised the voice immediately.

“M-Marc? Why…” You tried to find the right words to describe this moment; why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is? What the fuck is wrong with you? Instead, you settled with, “Are you okay?” A sigh followed from the other end of the call, and you could just imagine him, eyebrows creased, eyes shut in whatever it was that was silently bothering him.

“Look, ‘m fine, just- need’ya to do something for me.” A favour? You hadn’t seen him in at least two months, the last time being in a grocery store. It had taken you weeks to get the interaction out of your head. Annoyance entered your mind, but you quickly pushed it away.

“What is it?” There was another silence, prompting you to now sigh.

“We’re in trouble.” You flinched, swinging your legs out of bed, heart accelerating.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble? Have you-”

“We aren’t in danger, it’s fine, just…” He seemed to hesitate on his next words, and you were tempted to push him, to make him spit it out so you could settle the thoughts racing through your mind. “We’re in jail.” He grumbled, and you realised the hesitancy was embarrassment.

“Jail?! Why? I mean, how?”

“Don’t have time for questions, okay? Can you just come get us?” It seemed as though he had to be prompted before he added a quiet, “Please?”

You huffed, getting out of bed and slipping off your pyjama shorts. “Fine. Where are you?” He began listing all the information you needed, and you quickly scribbled it down on the back of one of your friend’s wedding invitations. “Okay,” you muttered, finishing putting on your clothes and slipping on some shoes, “ ‘m on my way.”

“Right.” He finished hastily, hanging up. You scoffed, almost expecting something else, at least a ‘thank you’. But you reminded yourself that this was just a favour. That you were the last and only option he had to call. You pushed away the feelings that he was using you. You cant be used if you aren’t wanted in the first place.

You hurried out to your car, ensuring you had all you needed before you began the drive to you ex’s.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Marc Spector? He got here tonight.”

“And what is your relation to Mr Spector?” You hesitated, spluttering on your words slightly before settling on,

“A friend.” The woman at the desk raised an eyebrow, taking you in before sighing.

“Sign these forms and then take a seat. Your friend will be out shortly.” You smiled awkwardly, picking up the papers and muttering your thanks.

In the rush and the confusion, you had forgotten what picking up Marc entailed. You would be seeing him again. His hair, his face, his eyes. You would be reminded of his smell and his voice and his lips. It had been too long, too hard getting over them. It was your own personal purgatory.

You could hardly remember the lilt in Steven’s voice when he was excitedly telling you about the book he was reading. Or Jake’s stupid jokes, sat in the back of his cab in the early hours of the morning. Or Marc-

You jumped when you heard a small cough in an attempt to pull your attention. You noticed the boots first, and it only took you a moment to avert your gaze upwards. His eyes were so familiar yet so cold. You felt as though you had been pulled under water, had lost your breath for a moment and were fighting to surface.

You took in every detail of his face. Some were familiar; the crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his lips, the small scar on the side of his face. Yet, some things were new. Particularly, the bruise covering his left eye, purpling angrily, and the freshly busted lip. You winced, resisting the urge to reach over and smooth your fingers over his injuries until they hurt less.

“You are free to go. You’re lucky your ‘friend’ bailed you out. Could’ve been a lot worse for you tonight, Mr Spector.” You noticed Marc grit his teeth, biting back the words he truly wanted to say. You were relived when he just nodded. He was out of the door before you could talk. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ to the receptionist before hastily following after him.

“Hey, Marc!” You called, and you couldn’t ignore how unfamiliar his name felt on your tongue. You pushed down the sourness rising in your throat as you could his name again. Marc stopped abruptly, and you noticed his body moving in a sigh. His head cocked to the side slightly as if he were hiding from you.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want a ride home?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll drop you off, I know the way.” The reminder of that fact pained you both, but neither of you showed it. Marc cleared his throat, turning to face you now, but he still averted his gaze.

“Don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have.”

“We’re past the point of that. Look, it’s fine, I insist.” You could see the dialogue behind Marc’s eyes, the debating and reasoning, before he settled with a small nod and an, ‘Okay.’

The small space of your car left little space between the two of you. You tried to ignore how good he smelt, how nice he looked, even after whatever he had been through tonight. You subtly cracked the window down, just to feel as though you weren’t drowning in him.

Silence settled as you began to drive. It wasn’t exactly awkward, more… uncomfortable. As if you were both about to talk, or scream, or cry at the exact same moment. Marc was set on staring out the window, every now and then his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror, and you could just imagine Steven or Jake’s expression looking back.

You wanted to ask about them. Despite it being a long time since seeing Marc, it had been even longer since seeing the other two. Fuck, your heart ached thinking how close they were to you, yet so far. Marc, too. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to release everything in your mind overcame you. You couldn’t stay silent, but you didn’t quite know what you wanted to say.

“So…” you started, slowing down as you approached a red light, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Good start. You peeked over at him, but all you saw was his reflection in the window, blurred by the street lights and stars.

“Your face looks pretty bad. I mean, shit, not your whole face, just the bruise.” You didn’t miss the way his lip twitched up as if edging into his signature smirk, but quickly fell again, as if he was reminding himself of the situation.

“ ‘s fine.”

“That’s it?” You wondered aloud, moving as the light changed to green. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, I just, prison is a big deal, Marc. I’m…” You hesitated, hearing the implications of your next words, “worried about you.”

Marc tutted, and you worried you pushed him too far. He was stubborn, after all. “Don’t gotta worry about me anymore, okay? It’s fine, just ran into some trouble after a mission.”

You ignored the way your heart wept at his beginning statement, deciding to see how much you could find out. “After? What, someone sent some bodyguards on you or something?” You noticed his silence, the way his eyes averted down to his lap, and worry filled you once more. “Were you Moon Knight? Or was it you?” The thought of him fighting without his superhero alias inserted a sense of fear into you.

Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you noticed how pained he looked. “It was Steven.” Oh. Steven? Sweet Steven? You knew he could fight; you’d heard his stories of fighting Harrow and various other things. He was perfectly able. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t picture him fighting. Without the suit, without his alters.

You realised why Marc had been so closed off.

“What happened?” Your voice was quiet, strained.

“Just got back from a mission. It was…” He trailed off, and the sigh told you everything you needed to know. “Steven was fronting, and he was so frustrated. Neither of us could calm him down. We were nearly home but we heard shouting. Screaming. This woman was inside her house as her asshole of a husband was banging on the door. We told Steven not too do anything stupid, to just summon the suit or call the cops, cause he was in such a bad place, y’know?”

You did know, nodding, trying to focus on the empty roads and the story.

“But Steven wanted to help, like he always does. Couldn’t get control of the body as he stormed over. The guy hit him,” He motioned to the bruise, and you winced, “Twice. And then Steven was just… fuck, he was goin’ crazy. Probably would’ve killed the bastard if some drunk guy on the street didn’t pull him off.” Marc’s voice had gotten slightly strained, and you could only imagine the turmoil he would’ve been through, how helpless he would’ve felt. How helpless they all would’ve been.

“B-But… why did you get put in jail?” You hardly had to ask. You knew Marc would do anything, anything, to protect him. But you didn’t know what to else to say.

“Steven snapped out of it. Let me front. I couldn’t let it be under his name, ya know? He has his job; he has a life outside of this shit… It doesn’t matter for me.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him he was a good person. You wanted to say he did have a life. You wanted to ask to talk to Steven. But then Marc was speaking again.

“The woman, she was grateful, you know, turns out her husband is an abusive piece of shit. But when we were put into the car, I caught sight of the window. There was a kid. Crying. Didn’t know if his dad was dead or what. Steven probably saved the kid’s life, but he doesn’t know that. Steven went after that, can’t feel him or speak to him up there, just… nothing.”

You were at a loss for words. You could feel the pain radiating off of Marc and it made you ache to hold him in your arms and whisper terms of endearments. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what you were apologising for, or who you were apologising too. There was so much you wanted to say, but so little ways you could say it.

“Don’t be. He’ll be back. Probably when this bruise is healed, bastard’ll probably avoid havin’ to feel it.” You forced a smile at Marc’s attempt at a joke. But it was all fake. You could read him like a book, even if you had finished the last chapter a while ago. But it didn’t take a genius to see how much he was harbouring.

“Marc… why did you call me?” You didn’t want him to think you were angry; you weren’t. In fact, you were relieved it was you and not anyone else. But you were curious. Out of everyone, why you?

“Your numbers the only one I- we know.” He muttered, and whilst it made sense, you felt a pang of sadness. There was nothing attached to their choice. Nothing present, anyway. It was a convenience.

“I see.”

“Look, I’m sorry I was such a prick earlier. I just didn’t wanna bother you like this, y’know? You don’t need this shit anymore.”

“I don’t mind, Marc. Honestly.”

“But I do. This shouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re too good for this.” He trailed off and your pulse rate quickened. You didn’t know what to say, so you decided silence was acceptable. This time, the silence felt more comfortable. As if you were now used to each other again. You mentally kicked yourself; you couldn’t allow yourself to get used to his presence.

You were driving down a particularly empty street, the prison taking you on the outskirts of the usual busy city life. That, and the fact it was incredibly early in the morning, so early, the sun was still hidden beneath the stars.

You had turned on the radio a while back, letting the music fill the car to disperse some of the tension. You hardly noticed, however, when it started crackling. It was only when the car started slowing down that you took notice of the dashboard. The flashing red light made you curse.

“What?” Marc said, but instantly realised why when the car spluttered to a stop, the radio dying with a whirl. You couldn’t resist the urge to flop onto the steering wheel, letting out a prolonged groan as you realised the situation- you had broken down on an empty road with your ex.

It truly couldn’t be worse.

“Shit.” He muttered, and you agreed, head still on the steering wheel. However, you looked up at the click on the passenger door.

“Where are you going?! Don’t leave me here!” You whined, and Marc rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Not leaving you, just gonna check the car. Just try ‘n call road services or somethin’, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, reaching for your phone, nearly crying as you saw the ‘No Signal’.

“Fuck, Marc, I don’t have a signal!” You called out, holding it into the air to no avail. “Marc? I’m coming out.” You opened the door, eyes trained to the phone as you waved it into the air again, a string of curses leaving your lips as the same signal portrayed itself on the screen.

You could see the silhouette of him at the front of the car, figure hidden behind the bonnet. You were shocked he knew even remotely what he was doing. Car’s weren’t his thing.

Oh no.

It finally hit you as he fully came into view. His face was harder, eyebrows drawn together, lips in a tight scowl. You hadn’t seen Jake Lockley in a while. In fact, you hadn’t heard a thing from him. No accidental calls, no awkward run ins. The last time you had seen him, well, you’d been under him.

“Hi.” You started, instantly feeling awkward at your tone. There was no answer. You wondered if maybe, he hadn’t heard you, that maybe he was so wrapped up in the car that he was oblivious to anything else. So, you tried again, this time adding a small, “Jake?”

You heard him sigh, followed by a frustrated, “hm?”

Oh.

“How’s it looking?”

“Fine.” Confusion filled you at his tone. He was being short. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to you, and you couldn’t ignore the hurt it made you feel.

“Well, it clearly isn’t fine if it broke down.” You snapped; you couldn’t help it.

“ ‘k, then it isn’t fine. Lemme concentrate, bueno?” Okay. You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Is there anything I can do-”

“No.” Anger flared in your blood. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so nonchalant, so infuriating.  

You suddenly missed Marc.

Without another word, you stormed back to the car, making a point of shutting the door so the bonnet rattled. You could practically hear the roll of his eyes, and it provided you with some solace.

He was out there for another 15 minutes. You wondered if it would even be him to front back at the car, and a big part of you hoped it wasn’t. You knew by the sharp tap on your window that it was, indeed, Jake.

You opened the door, trying to appear calm. “C’mere, have to test the engine.”

“I could do that.”

“I will, I know what ‘m doing.”

“And I don’t?”

“C’mon, relajarse. Relax. Let me.” Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the way his eyes were suddenly looking into yours from above, but you complied, rolling your eyes as you did so. Jake muttered something in Spanish that you didn’t catch, but you thought that was probably for the best.

You watched begrudgingly as he tried the engine once, twice, before the familiar roar of your car rumbled through the night. You expected him to get out, let you back in the drivers side, but much to your annoyance, he didn’t.

Instead, he motioned for you to get in. You wanted to complain but decided if he wanted to put in the effort of driving, whatever. You were tired anyway.

There was a different atmosphere than when Marc was fronting, and it was evident from the second you sat down. The atmosphere was tense, and the small space of the car felt suffocating, even with the window cracked down.

There was something about Jake, something utterly intoxicating, that pulled you under every time you even thought about him, let alone being in his presence. The implications that came with merely seeing his face made your brain cloudy and heart jittery.

How could you ever truly move on?

You tried not to let the thought in as you trained your eyes out the window, watching the trees and bushes blur into one green smudge. But it was corrupting your thoughts, infiltrating your defence systems.

You snuck a peek over at Jake. You were surprised he had even stuck around this long. A part of you expected him to stop fronting, render control to Marc as soon as he had fixed the car. The question was leaving your lips before you could even process you were speaking’ “Why are you still here, Jake?”

His jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “He wants me to stay.”

“Marc?” And he nodded. “You don’t…” You began but cut yourself off with a sad sigh. Jake didn’t want to be fronting with you and Marc didn’t want to swap back.

“I don’t…?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jake wanted to push but receded back into his silence. You didn’t miss the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel. You imagined Marc was pushing him to say something, but he didn’t.

He didn’t for a while.

You had adjusted to the silence, accepted that this would be how this night would end. The night sky had become lighter, the sun just beginning to peek out from beneath the horizon. You couldn’t quite believe it was nearly morning. You resisted the urge to yawn, covering your mouth slightly.

“Tired?” His voice shocked you slightly, but you hid it, raising an eyebrow in answer. “That was- of course, you’re tired, Soy un idiota. I’m an idiot.” You smiled slightly, shaking your head.

“You must be tired, too.” He shrugged.

“Who’s wedding?”

“Hm?” He took his eyes off his road for a split second to nod toward the crumpled invitation you had hastily scribbled the address down. “Oh, ‘s a friend’s. Next month.”

“Yeah? Do I know ‘em?” You shook your head.

“It’s a new friend.” He didn’t know everyone in your life anymore.

“I see.” You could tell he was pondering something by the way he was nodding slightly, tapping the steering wheel in succession to invisible music. “You got a plus one?” You couldn’t hide the shock on your face.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he replied too fast, “Just wonderin’.” You kept your eyes on him for a moment, gaze hard, but you felt a playfulness fill you.

“I was thinking of inviting this guy from work,” His jaw clenched, “But I want to keep my options open, you know?” He hummed, lips twisting up in a smirk.

“That’s what I do.” You had started it, the playful toying, the ploy to make him jealous, but the insulation they had options made your stomach turn. You reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to be jealous about.

“It’s fun having options. It’s freeing.” It wasn’t. Since them, you had gone on a handful of dates and all of them ended with awkward conversation and blocked numbers. But it was worth saying to see his smirk falter.

“As long as you’re happy.” Happy was perhaps an overstatement. You shrugged. “You are happy, aren’t you?” You hesitated. It was easy to say yes. It was easy to end the conversation here, as the car was nearing their flat.

“I’m getting through.” That struck him. All he cared about, still, was your happiness…no, he couldn’t, not anymore. You recognised the road instantly, knew the flat was close. God, even the street felt like home. Like you were travelling back through the trails in your memory. If you shut your eyes, you could imagine you were back in their bed. You can feel the sun on your skin through the cracks in their curtains. You can hear the car horns from a traffic altercation. You can feel their heart beating underneath your head. Nothing bad has happened.

“Hogar dulce hogar; home sweet home.” But not for you.

He parked and turned the engine off. You listened as it died down to silence. This was it.

“So this was…” You tried to find a word to quite describe the night, but settled on, “strange.”

He chuckled and it was addictive. “You could say that.” He unclicked his seatbelt and settled back in the seat for a moment. Like he belonged in your car with you. “Listen, thank you for all this. Gracias.”

“Jake… why didn’t you want to front earlier?” He sighed deeply, and you were worried you had overstepped.

“ ‘s too much. Being around you again, fuck, just brings it all back, ‘s all, Carino.” The term of endearment slipped out, but it was too late, the damage was done. “I should go. Thank you again.” He muttered, wiping his hands on his trousers, making a move to leave.

“Brings what back?” He paused.

“Everything.” He felt it, too. You were surprised to see him already looking at you. Your eyes met but this time, you didn’t look away. It felt all too familiar to be looking into his eyes. And then, his eyes were rolling back. You didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening before he was there.

His eyes held a softness unlike any you had ever seen in your life. You could recognise it from anywhere, but only from him. His body instantly slouched, his eyes whipping away from yours.

Steven. Sweet, sweet Steven.

His hands began to tremble as he raised them in front of his face, looking at the swelling of his knuckles, at the bruises forming on his skin. “I-I-“ He began to stutter, turning to look at himself in the reflection of the glass before abruptly looking away. “I did something bad.”

“Steven-” He jumped as if he hadn’t quite comprehended it was you sat there. He hadn’t heard his name from your voice in too long and it made his heart quiver.

“I-It was like I just lost control, y’know? I don’t- I blacked out for a minute and then there was sirens and Marc-” He cut himself off with a gasp and you felt tears fill your eyes. “Oh goodness, what have I done? I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“No, Steven, you’re not-” you began but he was already talking again.

“And now you had to come clean up my mess. ‘S not fair, how could I do this to you? After everything, fuck, you don’t need this. You don’t need me anymore.” You were at a loss for words. You did need him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. You needed him like you needed books to read. You needed him in a way you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, especially since you had lost him. Had lost all of them.

“Listen-”

“There was a kid, y’know? I saw him, in the window. He must’ve thought that I… that I…” And then, he was crying, body shaking in sobs. You broke then, the need to hold him too much, too strong. He melted into your arms, clutching at the back of your shirt as you held him in your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder, and you could feel his tears soaking your skin, but you didn’t mind, not one bit.

You ran your hands over his back, whispering whatever comfort you could string together. Your hands trailed the hairs climbing the back of his neck like you had a million times before, hoping it would provide something that would help, some solace that words couldn’t give. “You did the right thing, Steven.” You whispered as you felt his breathing begin to slow down. His hands became limp on your shirt, instead opting to hold you as tightly as you were holding him. “You always do the right thing.”

“What if ‘m a bad person?” He quivered, voice barely above a croaky whisper. You swallowed harshly, feeling tears sting your eyes at one of the people you cared about most thinking so lowly of himself.

“No, Steven, of course not. You’re… you’re one of the best people I’ve ever know? The best of the best, okay?” He sniffled, and you gently eased his face up, so he was looking at you. “You are a good person, Steven Grant.” You looked into each-others eyes for a while. There was no ounce of awkwardness, no trace of tension. The comfort it brought to see those eyes again was more than any drug, any romcom could ever provide.  

You studied his features. Soft, teary eyes, bloodshot and scared, but swirling with adoration and care. The tension between his eyebrows was gone, replaced instead with a smooth, vulnerable expression. But most of all, you noticed the bruises. Unlike with Marc, you didn’t resist the urge to run featherlight touches around them, hoping it would help him heal faster. Somehow, even in this state, he looked angelic. In fact, you had never seen him look bad. Because Steven was good. “ ‘m sorry.” He suddenly broke the silence, instantly looking away from you as if talking to you was too much. 

You looked at him confused, running a hand through his hair in encouragement as you whispered a small, “For what?”

“My fault you’re here right now. ‘m sure you have a trillion other things you’d rather be doin’ than sitting here with a sorry sod like me.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“If you think lying in my flat whilst my upstairs neighbours shag is something I’d rather be doing, you’re greatly mistaken.” You felt him smile against your neck and you resisted the urge to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Still, must be better than seeing us.” You shook your head, though he couldn’t see you.

I’ve missed you like crazy. I would do anything to see you, anything. Come back to me. Please. 

You settled on, “I’ll always be here to help.” Neither of you said much after that. Not for a while. You were so comfortable, unnervingly so, with Steven holding you, your hands in his hair. It was so intimate, more intimate than anything you’ve had since the break-up. You quickly realised you craved it. That this was the missing piece in your life, that they were the missing pieces. 

The sun was breaking through the dark now, a light pink casting a warm glow onto the dull streets. That was what he felt like, you thought. He was the sunrise. You felt yourself drifting off and caught yourself, realising the time in the car had to come to an end. You didn’t want too, but you shifted, and Steven lifted his head, rubbing his eyes slightly. 

“Should probably get you to bed, you must be exhausted.” You muttered to him, forcing your hands to untangle from his curls. He nodded, sitting up and you instantly missed the weight and warmth of him on top of you.

“ ‘kay.” You stretched slightly, feeling tiredness settle in your bones but you pushed it away. Steven took in the beginning of the sunrise, and you noticed his lips twitch up in wonder. He was the type of person to get excited at every sunrise, every sunset, every odd-shaped cloud; no matter how many times he’d seen it. He found the beauty in everything. It was one of the things you loved about him. Loved.

“So, just lemme know if you need anything, you can message me. Do you still have my number? I can write it down, or not, whatever you want-”

“You aren’t coming in with me?”

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d want me too.” 

“Yes, please. If you want too.” You paused. Seeing their flat? Being in that space again? The thought made your heart flutter and stomach churn. But you nodded, deciding he needed your help more tha your heart needed peace. The steps up to their flat was so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew every bump, every turn, every creaky floorboard. You were at the door before you knew it, and Steven was jingling the keys in the lock. 

“Sorry about the mess.” He said, and you smiled.

It was messy, yes, but messy in the way that felt exactly like home. It smelled the same. It looked the same, apart from the new curtains you were sure Steven had picked out. You felt like you were unlocking a piece of your heart with every step you took. You spotted his desk, piled with all sorts of Ancient History books, papers of various missions they’d been on, and Steven’s new name badge with the words, ‘Tour Guide’ formally placed underneath. You let your fingers trace it, a grin breaking out onto your face. 

“Congratulations.” You said, holding it up so Steven could see what you were talking about. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s… wonderful. I love it. Donna quit, and the new manager, Kathy, she promoted me.” 

“That’s amazing, Steven, truly. ‘m so proud of you, you deserve it.” You couldn’t stop the praise, and you watched his cheeks tint in a blush. 

“You always said I could do it.” He said, and you nodded. “You always believed in me.” You always would.

“It’s cause I knew you could. It’s all down to you.” You stayed smiling at each other for a moment before Steven yawned. You shook your head, putting his name badge down and clasping your hands together. 

“Let’s get you to sleep.” He chuckled, nodding and rubbing his eyes. Steven went to the bathroom as you set up his bed, plumping his pillows and straightening his duvet. You ignored the ache in your heart at the sight of your side of the bed, lingering your hands on the pillow as you remembered all the times you had been in their bed. You broke from it at the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. 

He came out dressed in his pj bottoms and a jumper. He took note of his now tidy bed and smiled, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and hold you. He didn’t say much as he got into bed, tucking himself under the covers and sighing deeply. You didn’t know where to look, where to stand. You figured you could leave when he got into bed. You only shifted slightly when Steven grabbed your hand gently, tugging you toward him.

“Stay with me?” He whispered so quietly; you almost didn’t catch it. You felt a lump rise in your throat. You didn’t even have to ponder it as you nodded, slipping into the side of the bed, your side, next to him. He turned over, facing away from you as you swung an arm over waist. You felt his muscles untense as he grabbed your hands to the front of him, stroking the skin softly. You rested your cheek against his back, nuzzling the skin to provide as much comfort as you could.

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.” He whispered tiredly, on the cusp of sleep. You tried to stop your eyes watering, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away.

“Thank you for letting me.” His grip on your hands loosened and his breathing became heavy in a way you recognised instantly; he was asleep. You pulled your hands out from him, careful not to make too much movement. The bed creaked as you rolled out, but he didn’t even flinch. You straightened out the sheets, reshaped the pillow. You thought about him. And then about Marc, and Jake. What they meant to you, still, and what you feared they always would.

You couldn’t help but look at him one last time. He looked at peace, finally, like an angel. You couldn’t resist the urge anymore, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Steven.” You whispered, stroking his hair before making your way out of their flat.

The sun had risen completely now, gold cascading over the buildings. A new day. You turned one more time. You wished you could reverse time, go back to when you were happy and at peace with them. But, alas, that was impossible. So, with your heart yearning, and your stomach turning, you left.

You awoke in the late afternoon, thoughts plagued with the events from the night. As hard as it was, you hadn’t wanted it to end. You had never been happier than when you were with them. The thought haunted you. You turned, stretching deeply as your limbs refused to move too much. With a sigh, you reached over for your phone. You scrolled through your notifications, not paying too much mind, until you saw the familiar number beaming on the screen.

You sat up instantly, clicking on the message and reading it:

Thank you for everything. 

You didn’t know which of your boys had sent it, and you didn’t care. You held the phone to your heart, trying to absorb the remnants you had left of them. And whilst it was just a message, you couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of hope. Perhaps this wasn’t it. Perhaps they felt it too. 

You smiled, shutting your eyes, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Finally- a new day. 

tags: @daddyjackfrost @rmoonstoner @midgardian-witch @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476​ (please do let me know if you don’t want to be on this taglist, it is quite old now so feel free to message me and i’ll remove you!!!)​

[slayingqueenchal]

busy days | marc spector x f!reader

Warnings : mentions of steven and Jake, but marc is fronting, ANGST, before harrow, ammit, and they already know about eachother

Summary : feels like the boys doesn't care for you anymore, read to find out!

"Sorry sweetheart, Khonshu needs me"

"Oh, y/n, I'm so sorry but I can't go"

"Sorry, maybe we'll do it on Wednesday? I'm busy"

And so many other. You feel empty. Back before all of this, you used to cuddle every night, be all lovely, and even when this happened he still tried as hard as he could to get an extra minute to spend with you. But now, it's as if he doesn't even bother.

Even now, everything is some how your fault. When you gave him a book, a simple book at his birthday he was angry. After he told you about his mom, you understood, and that was your fault.

You couldn't do this anymore. He's always busy with work and, the only person that truly makes an effort is steven.

Still that wasn't enough. One time, he told you he asked you if you wanted to go on a date, and you obviously said yes, but, no one was by your side when you left the restaurant.

One time you held a birthday party, and you invited some friends from work and him. But no one came. If it was your co workers it would make sense, but your own boyfriend?

And, finally when he was home, you finally picked up the courage to tell him.

"Marc? " You said. He has not been Marc for a long time, he's often 'baby' or 'love'. You'd expect for him to notice, but he doesn't, getting a cold reply "what? Can't you see I'm tired".

"Marc. I think I need to take a break" You said, sitting on the couch. "Sleep" The guy said. "Marc! How-how much of an idiot can you be! You spread all of your love and care and when you come home there's none left for me! So I'm ending this! It's for the better anyways" You said. Strong, strong, you are strong, y/n you repeated to yourself.

"What? For the better? You're breaking up with me? " Marc says In shock, as his eyes move to you. "Yes, Marc, I'm breaking up with all of you".

"No, no, no, i-ill fix this, i-what do you want I can give it to you" He begs. "For you to stay here for at least one week at a row" You said,simple, just one week.

"Love, you know khonshu is not negotiable" Marc says, walking closer to you. "Then, neither is our relationship" You cried. And you felt so defeated when you let him hug you.

"This is our first hug in a few months, funny how it's when we're about to break up" You scolded. "No were not, we're not going to break up, I'm going to talk to khonshu, we're gonna be just fine"

"No, Marc, I need to take a break, and, I need a little getaway too, we're not breaking up I just, need space" You said, ending the long hug.

"Okay, I understand, but please come back, yeah?" The accent changed, and suddenly it was steven. "Of course ill comeback".

You didn't. You haven't came back since that awful night. And that was six months ago.

And finally Marc gets a taste of his own medicine. He has never felt more lonlier. Sure he had steven and Jake, but, he felt empty.

These days, Jake has been fronting the most. It's because he's the strongest mentally and physically amongst the three. So, Jake has been cruel. Now he works more for khonshu, and kills people without a single drop of mercy.

Steven has been miserable, he never really talks anymore, when he fronts he gets drunk, he's just a messed up guy now.

But there you were, talking to khonshu in a small, dark, alley.

"Y/n" The tall god says. "What? Now you stalk your avatar exes?" You said. "Sorry, he didn't say anything about breaking up. But it is important to me that Marc does well and lately he hasn't. You promised to come back"

"And so does he, he promised to go home and ne an actual caring boyfriend for me, and its not even his fault. It's because of you! He can't even stay home for three days before you ask him to do your work, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving him! And as selfish as this sounds I hope he's feeling miserable because I've never felt so alone and so terrible! " You said wanting to leave. B

Suddenly, someone grabbed your wrist. "Oh funny! You're here! Did you set this up? " You looked at Marc, then khonshu. "I'll go now" The God says, disappearing into thin air.

"Are you guys besties now? Partner in crime? " You scoffed. "Y/n I'm sorry, please just listen"." Fine, I bet I won't even hear a thing anyways" You looked away.

"If you come back with me I'll stop working for him" Marc says, half begging, half demanding. "M-marc that's not fair, Steven loves this whole thing with Egyptian gods, Jake practically worships him, you can't just quit it"

"I can actually, if that means I can have you back just please" He begged. "Marc.. You swear you love me right? ", " Right", "that's all I need to know. Go back to khonshu, cause, you gotta love your self too and you, Steven, and Jake kinda love this job" You said.

"We-we kinda love this job but we love you! Please y/n" Marc cries, which was a rare thing. "I love you too, but I just can't, alright? We should just stay what we used to be before this chaotic thing and I know that wouldn't happens so no, we can't go back with each other.

You left, expecting miracle to happen,but, the world just got darker.

[stardustvanfleet]

Backstage Baby (Jake Kiszka x Groupie!Reader)

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

WORDS: 4k

WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. BASICALLY PWP. rough unprotected sex, edging, daddy kink, light choking (blink and you’ll miss it), mix of praise and degradation, nicknames (baby, princess, good girl, slut), my obsession with jake’s silver medallion, ending with flirtatious fluffy aftercare.

A/N: i’ve been writing band rpf for years, but this is my first gvf fic! ever since seeing them in boston on 9/15, i have literally been walking around in a daze, daydreaming about going backstage with jake……. and this is the result lmfao. title inspired by B-Side Baby by Adam Ant. i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss ideas with….. and also just cry and lose my mind with LMAO. anyway— i hope you enjoy! XO, li

••••••••••••••••••••

No matter how many times you saw Jake up there, he still made you breathless.

That furrowed concentration on his brow as his expert fingers flew across the strings… his hair falling across his shoulders… the way he would rock and grind against his guitar, glowing under the lights as sweat dripped down his forehead, his chest bare and slick from perspiration…

You didn’t really ever plan on becoming a groupie. The effect that Jake had on you had been intense enough long before you started following Greta Van Fleet around the country, before you’d even once thought you’d ever be in a room with him smaller than a stadium. But you hadn’t expected anything like the way things had actually gone. They had always said real life was stranger than fiction, but you had never thought its twists and turns could be this earth-shattering.

It had started with the eye contact. The first few times it happened, you couldn’t be sure if you were imagining things, your head perhaps fuzzy from the thrill of numerous front-row nights in a row… but when Jake crouched down and leaned towards you mid-solo, his eyes meeting yours with a jolt of electricity, a wicked smirk on his face, you realized with a heart-stopping shudder that no, you hadn’t been imagining his eyes on you.

Those looks would intensify as the tour continued. He’d always somehow find you in the front row, letting his cool and confident gaze rest on you as he played, just long enough to leave you squeezing your thighs together involuntarily. One night, you had been approached by a stagehand, who simply passed you a note with directions to an afterparty, and even though the note had no signature, something deep down told you exactly who it had been from.

That was your first night with Jake, and you had left the next morning with aching legs that felt like jelly. Since then, every night had been fucking cinematic.

Tonight was no exception. It had been damn near impossible to take your eyes off of Jake before you’d even had any opportunity to speak to him, but now, knowing exactly what he was able to do to your body, how fucking incredible he could make you feel… seeing him like that onstage made you positively throb throughout the show, taking all of your energy just to keep your composure.

As the concert winded down, you slipped out of the pit up front, making your way to the backstage entrance. The security guards, who recognized you by now— still an odd feeling — let you in. You headed towards where you now knew the band would be coming down once they left the stage, your heart already pounding with anticipation, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. You took a deep breath, tugging on the hem of your top, which you had intentionally chosen due to its short length: you loved the way it highlighted the curves of your waist and hips, and hoped Jake would too.

And, as always, once they emerged, it seemed as though everything was happening at once– pulling out earpieces, handing off instruments and passing equipment along – but your eyes were only on Jake, and, you realized with a shudder that wracked your entire body, his were on you.

Once his guitar had been handed off, Jake wasted no time in heading right towards you, grabbing your wrist, and leading you down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly where he was taking you, and you instantly felt a wave of overwhelming desire wash over your every inch. It was truly absurd how little he had to do to turn you on.

//

He pulled you into his dressing room, and immediately pushed your back up against the closing door. Jake’s large hands pinned your shoulders against it, a soft clicking sound occurring as the door locked automatically. His lips collided sloppily with yours, kissing you with a hunger that sent your head spinning, sparks of heat igniting deep within your core.

When he finally pulled back, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth as he did so, a shiver went down your spine, and it took you far longer than intended to regain composure and open your eyes. When you did, his heavy-lidded dark eyes were on you, pupils blown wide with desire. The dominance behind his expression was enough to cause an involuntary whimper to escape you, the sound of which brought out a smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“So needy today… What a dirty girl,” he said, his tone dripping with authority, making your knees immediately weaken. His eyes never left yours as he continued teasing, knowing by now what it did to you. He leaned in, making sure you got his next few words right in your ear. “You wanna get fucked tonight? Hm?” His voice was low and seductive, leaving one hand on your shoulder to keep you pinned to the wall, while his other one stroked first down your arm, then back up, your skin lighting up under his touch. As his body pressed up against yours, you could feel him, rock-hard and throbbing against your thigh, the sensation almost overwhelming as you found yourself nodding your head as hard as you could, already difficult to find the words.

That wasn’t enough, though, not for Jake. The hand that had been stroking up and down your bare arms moved abruptly to your jaw, holding it firmly in place so his gaze was locked on yours. “I asked you a question, princess.” Your lower lip trembled desperately as Jake tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression and tone just the right amount of patronizing as his hips began to roll at a slow but steady pace against you, breathing out, “You want this cock?”

“Yes, fuck,” you managed, already feeling lightheaded at just his words and close proximity.

“There you go,” he chuckled condescendingly at the sound of you using your words for the first time. He continued to rock up against your thigh, letting the hand on your jaw slide to your throat, but not lingering there too long, not giving you yet what he knew you wanted— just staying long enough to drag his long fingers down the sensitive skin of your neck, as if examining every inch of you. What a fucking tease.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, taking your free hand and gripping the lapel of his black jacket— all he was wearing over his tanned, sweaty torso, which had been making your head spin all night— “I’m so fucking hot for you. So fucking wet for you. I want you so bad, please…”

The sound of your desperation made a low sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl rumble in Jake’s throat, and if your panties weren’t soaked through already, that alone would have been enough to get you there.

Your begging had satisfied him, for now. Jake finally released his grip, freeing you from your position pinned up against the door, only to lead you over to the white leather couch in the corner of the room. Before having you sit, however, there were two things that needed to be done. First of all, he shrugged his black jacket off from his shoulders, throwing it to the floor behind him, leaving him standing before you in nothing but those sinfully tight pants and that silver necklace that drove you wild. Through your lightheadedness, you could tell how horny he was, too— his pants left almost nothing to the imagination, and the sight of the achingly large bulge straining against the tight black fabric was making your head swim, to say nothing of the heat between your thighs.

That was when he lowered himself just enough that his lips were in line with the top button of your jeans, and you felt all breath leave your body as he looked wickedly up at you. Going slowly enough to make you squirm, but not so slowly that you’d protest, Jake unzipped your bell bottoms. His gaze never left yours as he pulled them down your legs, revealing inch after inch of your skin to him, his tongue flicking out across his own bottom lip hungrily as he watched himself undress you— this gorgeous present, all his to unwrap.

As you had anticipated, your light pink panties were so soaked they had been rendered essentially useless as a means of covering you up, and the feeling of Jake’s eyes devouring the sight of your pussy through them were only making you wetter.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes glancing up to meet yours for a moment before looking right back down at the burning heat between your legs. After a second or two of him just looking intently— as if committing the sight to memory— he spoke, saying, “Drives me fucking crazy…” as one of his hands found its way to the inside of your calf, stroking slowly up, further and further, “...how fucking wet you get for me, before I’ve even touched you. Goddamn.”

“Jake, please,” you begged again, your voice cracking a bit as you spread your legs to give him easier access to your inner thigh, his long fingers stroking and massaging you only centimeters from where you needed his touch the most. “I need your fingers… I need them… please.”

Your final “please” had such an undertone of neediness, desperation, it must’ve been exactly what Jake had been looking for-– and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head as his long middle finger began to stroke deliciously up and down your clothed slit. He started at your entrance to gather your wetness through your panties, then slid upwards and flattened his fingertip out, letting the pad of the digit trace tight circles over your throbbing clit. Immediately upon the contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out, clapping a hand over your own mouth as you, in a cloud of arousal, watched Jake play with your pussy from his position between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he kept up his steady, rhythmic circular motions.

Time seemed to stop for what could have been seconds or minutes as Jake massaged your clit and teased your entrance through your dripping panties, and it was only when your eyes were watering and whimpers were falling from your lips that he pulled his hand back, the loss of contact making you let out an involuntary whine.

But once his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, you realized he wasn’t teasing any longer— he was escalating. The thought made you shudder as he tugged the soaked scrap of fabric down your legs, Jake’s face flushed with heat, that gorgeous hair of his falling across his shoulders and sticking to his forehead.

Once your panties were off, he tossed them to the side, standing up and leaving you trembling on the leather couch as his hands moved down to his own waistband, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue once again swiping across his bottom lip hungrily. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved to pull his pants down— which, at this point, were pornographically tight— and, Jesus Christ, he looked angelic as they came off. His skin was glowing with sweat, and warm light from the dressing room’s lamps was glinting off the silver medallion around his neck. When he took his cock out, you let out yet another involuntary whimper.

Hard and thick, the tip already glistening with his arousal, just the sight of it made your mouth water. He wrapped his hand around his length, beginning to pump it up and down just slightly as he lowered himself onto the couch next to you, watching with blown-out pupils as you pulled your crop top over your head, revealing to Jake that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath it, your tits bouncing free. The realization made him growl under his breath between strokes of his cock, groaning, “Fuck… you do that for me?” Your nod made him groan all over again, rasping out, “Mmmm… you’re such a dirty girl… C’mere.”

The simple command was all you needed, giving into your desire and practically pushing yourself against his slick, toned body. The feeling of his hot skin against yours alone made you moan out loud as Jake’s hands found your hips, pulling you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, you were so close to his cock that you felt entirely lightheaded, knowing that if you rocked forward, your clit would get the most incredible friction rubbing up against his length…

But you didn’t have to do anything yourself. Before you could organize your thoughts, Jake was kissing you again, messy and filthy, his tongue and teeth everywhere, his mouth moving sloppily from your lips to your neck and back again, and suddenly you hadn’t any thoughts left at all beyond Jake, his hands, his body, and the feeling of his cold silver medallion pressing up against the skin of your breasts— grazing your nipple, making you gasp into his mouth, eliciting a dark chuckle form the man beneath you.

One of his hands took yours and guided it to his cock, and when your fingers wrapped around the velvety skin of his length the both of you shuddered in unison. Jake’s mouth immediately dropped open from the pleasure, murmuring another, “Fuck, princess,” his other hand slipping between your legs to start toying with your clit again. It didn’t take long for your legs to start to tremble. You were aching for him to fill you up.

You both worked each other like this for a minute or two, eyes growing more half-lidded and cheeks flushing ever pinker as you built up to the main event. Finally, after what seemed an achingly long time, Jake finally spoke, words coming in between his heavy panting that was making your whole body tremble.

“You want it, baby? You want this cock right now? You want Daddy to fuck you like the cute little slut you are?”

You moaned so desperately you hardly recognized your own voice. He always knew exactly when to bring things up a notch, and how. You were nodding your head before you could even speak, finally finding the words to beg, “Please, Daddy. I need it, I need your cock,” staring at him with lust-blown doe eyes.

Jake let out a true growl this time, and sat back further, spreading his legs wide, his cock thick and hard and waiting, your wetness all over his thigh from where you had been straddling him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and authoritative. “Then sit on this fucking dick.”

The sound that left your lips in response to his words was something beyond desperation. With trembling thighs, you positioned yourself over Jake as he gave his cock another couple strokes, lining himself up at your entrance, and saying lowly, hotly, “Look at me.”

You obliged without even having to think, and with your eyes on each other, taking in every little change in expression, you started lowering yourself onto him. Slowly but surely, you felt every single inch of his hard cock stretching you out, and as you took all of him as deep as possible, you made sure to keep your eyes right on his as your mouth fell open. He loved to see what he was doing to you.

He only waited a moment, giving you enough time to grab onto his shoulders for leverage, but not enough time to catch your breath, before his hands found your hips. His fingernails dug into your skin, something sexy, dangerous, and dark in his eyes that you instantly recognized. Oh. There would be no working slowly into things tonight. Tonight, Jake was entirely in control.

Roughly, quickly, he lifted you by the hips, before pushing you right back down onto his cock, making you cry out in ecstasy. It was only a moment before he lifted you right back up again, then shoving you back down onto him, giving you no rest from the sudden and overwhelming pleasure. His sense of timing, perfected from years of playing guitar, was more obvious than ever as he started to build up a rhythm that was dizzying in its relentless repetition. The way he was filling you up felt so fucking good, and it only intensified when Jake began to fuck up into you while pressing you down onto him, getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back anymore, starting to moan out his name as he fucked you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jake groaned out, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead onto his chest, “Such a good girl… taking my cock so fucking well. Goddamn. So fuckin’ filthy.”

“Fuck, fuck, thank you, Daddy,” you were moaning, broken sounds falling nonstop from your lips as Jake slammed his cock into you, but when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head, he once again took your jaw in his large hand, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

“I told you to keep your fucking eyes on me when I fuck you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip, Jake’s relentless pounding hitting you right where it felt the best, the angle at which he was fucking you giving him perfect access to your sweet spot.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, the combination of his cock filling you up and that low, sexy voice of his right in your ear completely emptying your mind of any other thoughts besides how fucking good he was making you feel.

Jake was speeding up now, and it was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes on him with the pleasure building so intensely within you. You knew you were close, and his labored gasps and breathless growls made it clear that he wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck, baby… that perfect pussy… she’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he was groaning against you, and you were nodding desperately and moaning out obscenities, tears forming in your eyes from the unyielding ecstasy. One of your arms was still around his shoulders, while the other had a white-knuckled grip on his silver necklace as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts.

He must’ve been able to tell you were close by the way your thighs began to shake, the way your moans turned into desperate, tiny whimpers, because you didn’t even have to say a word before Jake sucked his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and slick before lowering them to trace tight circles onto your clit.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was all so much; so deliciously overstimulating— Jake’s cock deep in your pussy, his fingers working your clit just right, his dark eyes looking at you so intently that even the act of him simply watching you as you fell apart felt so fantastically filthy and sinful.

“Does my little slut wanna cum?” Jake growled through gritted teeth, still thrusting up into you as he managed one of those patronizing smirks that drove you wild, “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

You let out a desperate whine, whimpering weakly, “Jake— fuck, please, Daddy.” Every word took all of your focus and energy to stammer out, with Jake surrounding what felt like every inch of your body, from his cock pumping in and out of you, to his fingers on your clit, and the heat of his skin against yours.

“Be a good girl now,” he continued between grunts, fucking you deep and hard, his lust-blown eyes never once leaving yours, “I’m gonna count down. Then… and only then… you cum on my fucking cock.”

You managed to make the only sound you could— a whimper that sounded so pathetic and slutty you hardly recognized your own voice. Trying to find words now would be hopeless. It was all so much. It felt so fucking good. Tears began to spill from your eyes as Jake’s thick cock slammed against your g-spot over and over again, in perfect time with his calloused fingers relentlessly circling your clit.

He chuckled condescendingly. You could tell— he knew you were too fucked out to answer him.

“Here we go, princess… five…”

You were trembling, moments away from the edge, utilizing every bit of energy you had left to hold off the orgasm that threatened to overtake you any second.

“Four… three…”

You could barely breathe. Every sensation, every feeling, was layered on top of one other. The pressure on your clit. Jake’s eyes, watching you unravel. The feeling of his cock swelling inside of you as he pounded into your cunt. His other hand still gripping your hip for leverage, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

“Two…”

He leaned right in, giving you a look so fucking intense and hungry that you felt yourself go lightheaded, that heat building, building… so close, so fucking close… he just had to say…

“One. Cum for me. Fucking cum.”

The moment the command left his lips, it was all over. The white-hot coil within you snapped, and your body was overtaken with bliss, shaking uncontrollably as you clenched down onto him, the feeling of your release all around him making Jake groan out a pornographic, “Oh, fuck.”

He kept up his pace as he fucked you and worked your clit through your orgasm, repeatedly biting his lower lip in concentration as he groaned out, “That’s it, baby, give it to me, soak my fucking cock.” The pleasure was dizzying, damn near overwhelming, and through your haze it was impossible to tell for just how long he helped prolong your climax while chasing his own.

With a delicious moan and a string of obscenities, Jake pulled out of your cunt just in time, thrusting into his hand and covering your stomach in his cum. Even through your post-orgasmic haze, the sight of him cumming all over you was so incredibly filthy you found yourself whimpering all over again, watching him through glazed-over eyes as he rode out his high.

When you both finally collapsed onto each other, panting, covered in sweat and cum, Jake groaned out a breathless, “Holy fuck,” before taking his hand and running it through your hair. There was a tenderness in his gaze and a softness in his tone as he asked, “Are you okay, baby?”

You nodded, slowly but surely coming back down to Earth. When you managed a dazed grin, he chuckled a little, smirking affectionately. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips— this one far more gentle, but no less passionate. When Jake pulled back, he breathed out, “That was so fucking hot, baby… goddamn. You’re something else.”

You felt a blush creep up in your cheeks as he stroked your hair, then your back, his tender touches grounding you as you caught your breath against his chest. It was only after a good long while, once the stickiness on your stomachs became too much to bear, that he helped you to your feet, your thighs already feeling a familiar ache, knees still wobbling a bit. By now, you had found your words, and you thanked him, giggling shyly despite yourself.

He wrapped a plush towel around you, cleaning you up as best as he could, grabbing another towel for himself. It was after this, though, that he spoke.

“Come back to the hotel with me tonight.”

His words took you by surprise. Yes, you’d been to his hotel rooms before— but generally, you’d head there in order to fuck, not after it already had taken place. He must’ve been able to read your expression, because he continued, “I wanna take care of you, baby. It’s the least I can do… there’s a jacuzzi, we can get a nice bath going for you… and there’s a king-sized bed…”

And… you were blushing again. Of course.

You chewed on your bottom lip with nervous excitement, your heart already starting to beat faster. “Jake… that sounds perfect.” He smiled at you, looking utterly radiant, and you felt butterflies in your stomach all over again as he put his arm around you. “C’mon, gorgeous… let’s get you some of my clothes to put on. I’ve got a sweatshirt in here somewhere…”

As you melted into his touch, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The night was only just beginning.

••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: thank you so so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts either in the notes or through tumblr DMs. my ask box is always open for filthy thoughts, and i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss with 🥰 i’m also starting a taglist for any new fics i post, so be sure to let me know if you want to be added! XO, li

[pygmi-cygni]

Besamé

jake lockley x reader (sort of a continuation of Clever Boy bc yall wanted jake)

read part 1 here (or don't it doesn't matter)

I'm not gonna translate the title or the pet names because if you're reading this you've read enough oscar isaac characters and jake lockley fics to understand basic romantic spanish, let's be so fr

Things had progressed smoothly in your budding relationship. Marc and Steven made up, all qualms about your affection gone. Jake, still hiding, had peeked out and you'd smothered him as well.

It was hard not to love you and Jake punched himself for doubting it. Of course you were perfect.

That morning was soft and warm, and he was up with the sun making breakfast. As much as he loved early morning cuddles, his stomach was so loud he worried you'd rouse.

Jake whistled quietly as he poured himself a mug of coffee, making sure to set yours by the coffeepot for after you ate. If you drank coffee before food you'd get a wicked stomachache.

Grinning, he nudged open the door tosee you rubbing your face sleepily, blinking in the light.

"Hi," you croaked, smiling blearily. Jake beamed, peppering your face in kisses. You smelled like sleep - still soft and comforting. Snorting, you pushed away his ticklish affection and made grabby hands towards his coffee.

"Yours is in the kitchen, my love," he said, "I made food."

Morning grogginess gone, you scampered after him, the smell of pancakes in the air. Jake watched lovingly as you ate, perusing the newspaper atop Steven's precariously balanced library.

"You've grown it out," you noted, gesturing to his upper lip. The mustache he'd been begging Marc and Steven to let him keep was blossoming. Steven was the only apprehensive one, frowning at the facial hair.

It itches, he grumbled from the headspace.

Jake waggled his eyebrows suggestively and blew you a kiss. "Sexy, ay, amor?"

You scrunched your nose and giggled. Then, realizing the time, you rushed up and tossed your napkin in the trash. "Gotta go, baby, sorry, I forgot I had an early morning!" You pressed a kiss to his cheek and hurried into the shower.

"Thanks for the food," you called over your shoulder. You grinned to yourself as you washed the suds from your body.

Marc and Steven had planned a little game on the evenings that Jake was asleep. See, both of them had officially asked you out and gone on dates, yada yada. Except for Jake. He, though arguably the most passionate, had yet to 'ask you out.' He was riding on the coattails of Steven's proposal and Marc's efforts, so to speak.

Not fair, really, Steven had mused to you, seeing as he didn't have to do anything for you to fall in love.

What are you proposing? You'd asked cheekily. He sniffed and turned away.

I don't think you should be all lovey with him until he actually works for it.

You had laughed. That's like taking candy from a baby. Poor Jake was too sweet for you to tease him like that.

Marc had chimed in. Yeah, well how come he gets a fat kiss every evening and it took you a month to give me a little peck?

That shut you up.

So, you'd schemed until a plan had been formulated. No kissing on the mouth, no touches, no nothing until Jake asked you on a proper date. Proper, Steven emphasized, not takeaway on the sofa.

Running a brush through your wet hair, you smiled at Jake and moved towards the door. Like clockwork, he leaned in for a kiss. You dodged his mouth and pressed two quick pecks to his nose. One for Marc, one for Steven. Jake awaited the third kiss bestowed to him, but you merely squeezed his hand and disappeared out the door.

Jake stood in the foyer, blinking in shock.

The dishtowel hung limply from his hands, grip loose with confusion.

"Que?" He murmured to himself, immediately raking his hand through his hair. You'd never done that...had he missed something?

Were you mad? You'd smiled at him, he'd made you breakfast, you laughed at his joke...was it the mustache? Ay, he thought you liked it!

Marc and Steven were awake but oddly silent. Steven had been with your last night, were you mad at him? No...no. Cheek kisses were for the other two, he always got the mouth. Cheek, mouth, cheek. One two three. Except now...only two?

While he fretted, Jake began to clean the kitchen. He'd never felt insecure with you. Should he? No. You were nice, you liked him, you always gave him a kiss before work. You had yesterday; he'd felt it from back in the headspace. Why not today?

Beso...he mourned quietly, absently running his fingers over his lips. Maybe it was the mustache. He'd shave it off, right now. That'd make Steven feel better, if not you. Jake tugged on his hair, eyes wide and worried.

"Ay, Marc," he hissed into the mirror, fumbling for his razor. "What's going on with her, huh? Yesterday was okay, si, then ¡Y entonce! I get nothing! Estoy confundido!"

Marc yawned lazily, smirking in the reflection. Jake's hand paused above his chin, and he narrowed his eyes. "What's that face for, eh? Why are you smirking like that?" His headmate shrugged, feigning disinterest.

Well, you know, he mentioned drolly. Jake dropped the razor and folded his arms.

"No, malo, I don't." Something was up. Steven was watching, eyebrows up to his hairline, but Jake didn't trust him either.

Marc was grinning now. You're not their boyfriend, Jake.

He gaped into the mirror, hot anger flashing in his veins. "Ay, that's not true! Maldito malo, how dare you say that! I love them just as much as any of you bastards-"

How many dates have you gone on? Steven piped up from the back, grinning cheekily. Jake opened his mouth but stopped.

Dios...he hadn't taken you on a date?

"Wait, wait," he muttered, chin in hand. That couldn't be right, you spent time with him almost every day. You'd gone on drives and to the park and the library...

"Oh my God," he breathed. "Ay, this is-" he fisted his hair in frustration, then whirled to glare at his friends.

"No, it can't be that! Yesterday I still didn't date them and they gave me a kiss, right smack on the lips! You're full of shit, Spector, that can't be it."

He wiped the shaving foam from his face and slammed the bathroom door, ignoring Steven's giggles. Bullshit. You wanted a date? He would take you on a date, he'd take you on a date every day for the rest of your life if you wanted-

Share them with us, Steven protested at the idea. Jake bared his teeth in the reflection of his phone.

"Fat chance," he seethed. He'd get that kiss back.

Work had been a hassle. You scrubbed a hand over your face before sighing and making your way to the bus stop. It was a grey evening, and would start drizzling soon. Shivering, you walked faster, imagining the comforting warmth of your shared flat.

You smiled, thinking of Jake. Hopefully the boys weren't being too mean - it was a joke, after all.

Speak of the devil, a familiar black car was parked along the curb, and you paused.

"Jake?" You stepped up to the window and peered inside. Jake's glittering eyes grinned back at you. His hat was perched cockily atop his moussed curls and he unlocked the door.

You gleefully ducked inside, grateful to be out of the rain. He sat idly, tapping his fingers on his thighs while you buckled up, fluffing your hair in the mirror and looking over. He wasn't looking at you, peering with mild interest at the traffic outside.

"What's that pout for," you teased. "Oh, you've shaved!" You leaned over to inspect his smooth chin, but he angled away.

Huh?

You sat, gingerly placing your hand on his arm. Marc had spilled the beans, it seemed. The rain beat on the windows, pattering loudly in the silence.

Game on.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, folding your legs away from him. Without any real estate to rest his hand on, Jake fidgeted near the gearshift. He so badly wanted to reach out and burrow his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, but he couldn't. Not yours to touch, Marc taunted.

Eyes steely, Jake peeled out of the parking lot and into the main road, humming to himself. This was so wrong. His lips tingled from neglect, and he was twitching to repress his need to kiss you all over. The soft music on the radio had you bobbing your head and tapping your fingers. He wanted to grab your hand and swing along like a seated waltz.

Nope. Not yet.

When Jake pulled up in front of your favorite Thai place, you frowned.

"Wh-"

His hand was on your jaw and his breath tickled your ear. "I'll take you on a date," he growled, "but after this, you better knock it off." His tone was harsh but his grip gentle, rubbing a slow circle beneath your ear. You met his eyes innocently.

"Knock what off?"

He made a sound low in his throat and tore away, stalking around the car to throw your door open.

"What a gentleman," you cooed, pecking his jaw. He scowled, mentally urging your lips to gravitate towards his supple pout. No cigar; you grabbed his hand and led him inside.

It was warm and smelled divine, so you settled in with a smile. Jake gave a small smirk in return, foot bumping yours under the table. Your nose scrunched adorably and you bopped him right back. The two of you went back and forth, smothering giggles until the waiter took your order.

The quiet was pleasant this time, the stiffness having lifted in the spirit of warm food. As you ate and laughed, Jake's hand found his way to yours across the table.

"I'm sorry, corazon," he said, eyes wide and genuine. Your heart cracked a little bit, and you felt the tiniest bit of guilt. He looked like a kicked puppy, all begging and earnest. Caressing his palm, you squeezed back.

"Te amo," you whispered, poking him with your chopsticks. Jake sighed with relief, a crooked smile on his face. See, you bastard fools? He gloated to his headmates, 'not their boyfriend my ass.' Pendejos, both of you.

You saw the smirk on his face and cocked your head. "Don't be mean," you chastised playfully, "it's not their fault you didn't have the balls to ask me out."

Jake sputtered around his food, looking at you with bewilderment. Cackling, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, smiling against his lips. He tasted warm and familiar, like home. Stupid game, you lamented, forcing me to miss out on this.

He pulled you to his side of the booth, trailing down your neck and back up to your soft lips. Your hair was soft against his cheek and he beamed.

His rough hands cupped your chin lovingly, eyes sparkling with joy. You're so pretty, he fawned, kissing you again. A blush spread over your cheeks and you hid in his neck. he could feel your smile against his skin, and he pulled you back up for another round.

"Besame, por favor," he murmured, licking gently into your mouth. your hands fisted gently in his shirt, and he intertwined your fingers gently. Pulling back, you nudged his nose with yours.

"Take me home, lover boy."

yay! all the boys can be happy now.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@silvernight-m - Jake's part, as requested! :)

@krakenkitty

@twwcs

@ominoose

comment to join the taglist

[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​

[phantomspiderr]

Wrong

Pairing: Jake Lockley x afab!reader (with mentions of Marc Spector x afab!reader & Steven Grant x afab!reader)

Word Count: 2.9k+

Summary: Your first date with Jake takes a bit of a steamy turn but ends in a rather soft moment ~based on this ask~

Warnings/Tags: 18+ alludes to & mentions of smut, lots of kissing, obvious mentions of DID, probably way too much use of nicknames, overconfident!jake but also lil shy!jake, virgin!jake, talks about consent, small touch of manhandling, and of course fluff

a/n: as always thank you to my bestest friend in the entire world @natashasvixen for always reading my stuff no matter how shit it is, love you😘 also thank you so much to whoever sent this ask your message was so sweet and kind. I'm ngl this was going to be full on smut but it took a turn and I kinda just ran with it

“What?” A smile creeps onto your face as you look at him. Jake is lounging in the corner of the small couch. One of his arms is slung over the back of the couch, his fingers just grazing your back while the other leans on the arm of the couch. His head is propped against his fist and he’s staring at you, he has been all night. There’s the slightest smirk on his face, you find it so odd how a face you know so well can look so different. 

The night had been unexpected, after meeting Jake only a handful of times the more self-assured alter had asked you out on a date. And now, the conversation Marc had brought up makes a little more sense. A couple of days ago your boyfriend asked how you felt your existing relationship fit around his other alters. Marc had been open and honest about Steven and Jake from the moment you met, you’d had countless conversations about his DID but this particular conversation had come out of nowhere. Like quite literally he’d randomly just asked about it while you were in the middle of watching something. You were obviously curious about the other alters and it was honestly taking some getting used to different people in the same body. Even though they were part of him and he’d told you about them, Marc was still a little reluctant to share you with Steven and Jake. Selfishly he wanted you all to himself because deep down he knew the pair well enough to know that they would fall for you as hard as he had. 

But now, here you are cosied up in their apartment where Jake had prepared little snack boards and had even set up a little chocolate fondue that you’d both been picking at all night. You’d been talking about an old childhood memory while quiet jazz music plays in the background and Jake just listened. He hadn’t really said a lot, only really replying in one or two sentences but he listened to every word you spoke and he didn’t care how much you talked and talked and talked.

Suddenly, he surges forward and your body jumps at the unexpected movement, his hand hovers next to your face for a second until you visibly relax. Your eyes lock with his again, and you keep looking at him even when he looks down at your lips. His fingers gently touch your jaw, his thumb slowly dragging across your bottom lip. Your lips involuntarily part at the contact, a shaky breath coming out as you do. You think he's going to kiss you, and your body automatically gravitates closer to him forgetting you haven’t kissed Jake before. Learning boundaries with Steven and Jake was definitely taking some getting used to, especially since Marc had very few physical boundaries with you. Now, Jake’s definitely smirking, his eyes glancing into yours and then back to your lips before he backs up again, all contact gone. You don’t get a chance to protest or even pout at the loss. 

“Chocolate,” you dumbly watch as he pushes his thumb into his mouth, cleaning off the small drop of chocolate that was there. The conversation you’d previously been having lost as you just stare at his hands, solely thinking about his hands, you know those hands too well. Now, you’re wondering if Jake’s touch would feel the same as Marc’s or if it’d be rougher, maybe softer, “are you okay hermosa?” 

“Mmhm,” it comes out squeaky and you realise you’re literally squirming in your seat. He’s looking at you like you’re prey and he’s been starved and now he’s ready to pounce.

“Are you uncomfortable hermosa?” His head tilts to the side, eyes surveying you as you continue to squirm unable to sit still. It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, you just now can’t stop thinking about certain situations involving Marc’s hands. “This couch isn’t very comfortable.” Jake cuts in before you can even reply to his question, shifting in his own seat, his legs spreading a bit wider and the godforsaken hand you can’t stop thinking about now rubbing the top of his thigh. “You are always welcome to sit here cariño.”

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes unsure you heard him right but he glances down at his lap before looking at you again and you know you absolutely heard him right. Then your body’s moving before you can fully think it through, he grins up at you as you situate yourself in his lap. His hands glide up your thighs to hold your waist as you straddle him and now, you’re face to face with him you’re not sure what to do. The little burst of confidence you’d just had fizzles away as you look down at him, Jake’s stare is so intense it scrambles your already fuzzy brain. 

“Eres tan hermosa, mi amor,” you giggle nervously when his fingers brush along your cheek down to your jaw. His eyes follow his hand as it moves and you can’t look away from his face. You’re somehow surprised but not surprised at all that Jake’s won you over so easily, the man already has you like putty in his hands. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying,” he chuckles briefly, his eyes glued to his hand that lightly brushes your jaw. He is obsessed with the way your head moves so easily with his touch, the cogs in his brain turning with more ways he could use that to his advantage.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jake holds your chin in his hand now and you let out a shuddered breath when his eyes lock with yours again, “I’m going to kiss you, hermosa.” You’re nodding your head the best you can and Jake’s smile grows at the action. Slowly, he straightens his back, getting closer inch by inch. Your own hands finally start working again as they move up his chest to pull him closer by his shirt. You’re getting impatient, needing to kiss him like you need to breathe and quite frankly Jake finds it amusing. Just as he’s close enough that you can feel his lips just barely brush yours, he stops. Jake freezes right where he is and his hold on your chin keeps you locked in place. You can’t move forward no matter how much you try and so, you whine, unashamedly you whine because you’re so desperate to kiss him now, “tan impaciente.” 

Jake holds you there for a few seconds more, taking great satisfaction with how much you begin to squirm again. He finally shows you some mercy, sliding the hand holding your chin to your neck allowing you to move freely. You don’t hesitate to push forward, finally pressing your lips to his. Your body instantly relaxes, sinking further into Jake’s hold. The confidence radiates off of him as you kiss, one of his arms coming up to support your back while the other hand cradles your head. It all feels so familiar, at this point, you think your brain’s on autopilot. Your hands smooth over his now wrinkled shirt, one making its way up to the back of his neck attempting to exude some confidence or show some control by manipulating which way he moves now. You’re able to wordlessly direct him and he listens, moving in sync with you. Your heart races in your chest but you find comfort in the fact under your fingers you can feel Jake’s beating wildly too. You don’t want it to end, right now all you want to do is kiss him until you can’t breathe—and you can’t. You’ve been kissing so long that you’re lacking oxygen and you have to unwillingly part from him to heave in air. Jake pushes forward to kiss you again and you have to smile. Despite the fact, both of you are panting after your little make-out session he is so desperate to keep you right where you are. 

“Hermosa,” Jake whines and the sound makes a flurry of emotions swirl in you. Your head tilts back a fraction in order for you to breathe but that doesn’t stop Jake from eagerly placing kisses from your lips down to your neck.

“What does that one mean?” Your fingers slide into his hair and tug ever so gently in a silent request for him to come up for air too. You can’t deny the way his lips feel against your skin is intoxicating, the closeness makes your entire body tingle.

“Beautiful,” his voice is rougher than before and he finally sits back, his eyes slowly drifting up your face as the hand still resting on your neck moves. His fingers lightly trace along your jaw again, “so beautiful.”

Now, you can fully see his face in the dim flat lighting you can make out the tint of red coating his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His slightly parted lips are swollen and rapidly he pushes out air. The man looks utterly devastating and he’s the one calling you beautiful. You can feel heat prickle your skin the more he looks at you, his eyes are studying you so intently. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again takes over and you push yourself toward him to try to close the gap again—try being the fundamental word. He pulls back with a smirk before you can kiss him, for a second you’re confused sitting back and looking at him curiously. He doesn’t move or say anything, he just sits there smirking so you try again. You push yourself up and just barely brush your lips against his before he pulls back again, an amused look still on his face.

“Marc,” you cry out in frustration before it registers in your brain. Suddenly, you drag yourself back when you realise your mistake but Jake only tilts his head slightly, one of his eyebrows raising. “I’m sor-”

“Oh, cariño,” his hold on you tightens by the second. It’s almost like a switch has flipped and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing yet, “I have ways to make you remember my name.” Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes going wide at the implications of what he’s just said. Jake closes in on you again, and your eyes fall closed as you feel his breath against your neck. His nose brushes along your jawline toward your ear, “is that something you want hermosa?” An uncontrollable whimper escapes you much to Jake’s satisfaction, a deep chuckle sprouting from him at the sound. Jake hums questioningly, fishing for a direct answer.

“Yes. Yes please, Jake-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Jake’s tight grip holds you close as he effortlessly stands, his lips back on yours even as you yelp out in surprise. Your legs instinctively clamp around his waist while your hands now grip his shoulders for some form of stability. Jake’s kisses are frantic, the surprising change completely welcome as he moves you both through the flat. “Jake. Jake,” you manage to breathily speak his name, as if to make up for your earlier mistake, trying to get his attention and he only hums as his mouth moves back to your neck. Your head involuntarily moves to allow him more access, your mind clouded by lust instead of rational thinking and at this point, you may just allow him to do just about anything to you. Rather abruptly and unceremoniously, Jake shoves books off of Steven’s messily organised desk before he cruelly lets go of you making you gently thud onto the wooden surface. 

“Now you remember?” You can do nothing but blink up at him as he looks smugly down at you, your silence only boosts his confidence. Although all he wants to do is move at a hundred miles an hour he forces himself to slow down, to establish consent and trust with you. Jake wants nothing more than to be trusted, to be loved and he knew he wanted those things from you and only you. He however simultaneously wanted to pull you apart until the neighbours knew his name too. Your hands slip from his neck down his chest, and his hands catch your wrists as they move, “cariño.” 

“Tell me what that one means,” you lean in closer almost like you’re moving in to kiss him again and in response, he nudges his chin up just enough to brush your lips together. 

“It can mean more than one thing,” Jake kisses you once, “it can be sweetheart.” Another kiss to your lips, “dear,” and another, “honey,” another, “love.” His words mixed with the affection make you smile even as you try to pull your hands free but he holds firm. Jake pulls away just enough so he can look into your eyes again, “cariño-”

This time he says the pet name a little more seriously and that rational part of your brain enters the room again. The lusty haze clouding your judgement clears and you can see the faint look of doubt that washes over him.

“I haven’t- Not with-” His gaze drops to your hands, watching as he lowers them to rest on your thighs. You curiously look at him as he stutters, you’re surprised to hear it as it seems like that’s more of a Steven thing. “I want to be with you,” his eyes suddenly snap up to yours again, “I want to get on my knees and bury myself between your thighs.” There’s the self-assured Jake you know, “I want to bend you over that very uncomfortable couch and have you screaming my name.” You swallow thickly as he spills out the desperate fantasies that fill his head. His fingers delicately graze up your thighs until they reach your hips, holding on so you can’t scoot any closer to the edge of the desk. “But,” his eyes close for a second and when they open he’s looking down again, “I also want you to trust me.” You try to interject but he keeps going, “and I want to fully trust you.” Jake winces, expressing something so mundane he wants from another person feeling foreign to him. 

He can’t look at your face, he’d never admit it but he’s scared. Never has he gotten further than this with anyone, everyone always wants more, to push further than he’s willing to go and he wants that. Some primal part of him wants it more than anything but this softer side he likes to keep behind closed doors just wants someone to want him for more than sex. 

“Jake,” your voice is soft. Your hands gently move up his arms until you can hold his face between them, you repeat his name again and this time he slowly looks back up into your eyes. “It’s okay,” the corner of your lips twitch when you see his stoic look drop almost immediately, “we can go as slow…or as fast as you want to.” 

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders, his arms slide around your back and he pulls you into an embrace. The move catches you off guard but you’re quick to hold him, your hands cradling the back of his head and neck wanting to savour the soft moment. You manage to turn your head enough to kiss the side of his head, your nose buried in his hair that smells like the hair gel Marc sometimes uses. Jake pulls away just enough to look at your face for a moment before he moves closer, nudging his nose against yours. Then he’s kissing you again, this time slower and softer it makes this speed feel even more intimate than before. 

Jake rests his forehead against yours, your lips parting for only a moment, “can we just do this for a minute hermosa?” You’re nodding your head letting out a breathy laugh and angling up to kiss him again. 

You both stay like that for much longer than a minute, fluctuating between short pecks and longer, slower kisses. He can’t keep his hands still, they move so gently across your skin from your hips to your thighs, to your waist even moving up to hold your face at one point. They find their final purchase on your sides, fingers digging into the soft skin there. Jake only stops his pursuit to press a kiss to your cheek whispering quiet words to himself like a prayer. 

“Where did you get all your ideas from then?” Your own whispers interrupt him, a smile creeping on your face as he pulls away. That blush coating his cheeks has grown and he frankly looks adorable. 

“I read.” You’re taken aback by that response, and now you’re just wondering exactly what he’s been reading. Jake moves in to kiss your cheek again, making his way closer to your ear. “I also watch a lot of por-“

“Okay!” You giggle as his fingers brush against your sides. That was the kind of thing you were expecting him to say first. Jake smiles down at you, a proper goofy carefree smile and he looks so sweet like this. It’s contagious, he’s got you grinning so much your eyes crinkle in the corners. A comfortable silence surrounds you, delicately your fingers comb through his hair. You’re both just taking a moment to admire each other. 

“You know Steven isn’t going to be happy about this,” you lean to the side and look down at the heap of books and papers scattered on the floor. Jake follows your gaze before you look back at each other and he just shrugs. 

“Worth it,” one of his hands cups your cheek and he dips down to kiss you again. It was definitely worth it. 

~part 2~

[florawrites-blog]

Unresolved tension

The tension in the air was thick as you and Heeseung argued backstage at a award show, the same argument that had been simmering for a week now. Harsh words were exchanged, both of you too stubborn to back down. The frustration lingered even as you were called to prepare for your performance with your group. Stepping onto the stage, your mind was a whirl of unresolved emotions and sharp retorts. You tried to focus on the music, the choreography, the fans cheering for you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Heeseung. Your steps faltered, and in one misstep, you twisted your ankle painfully. The show went on, but the pain was excruciating, and you could barely finish the performance. As soon as the final note played and the lights dimmed, you limped off stage, trying to hide your injury. Desperation drove you to the changing room, but just as you rounded the corner, you met Heeseung's eyes. The concern in his gaze was evident, but his pride held him back from rushing to you. He stood there, clearly torn, his own performance moments away. Your eyes locked for a moment, both of you caught in the silent storm of your emotions. As you walked past each other, your fingers almost brushed, a ghost of a touch that spoke volumes. But they never met, each of you bound by your own stubbornness and the demands of your roles. You continued to the changing room, your heart heavy with a mixture of pain and unresolved feelings. Behind you, Heeseung was called to the stage, and you knew he had to push aside his worry for you to perform. The weight of your argument hung in the air, a barrier neither of you seemed ready to cross yet. Backstage, you tended to your injury, the physical pain mingling with the emotional turmoil. You knew that this argument couldn't go on forever, that eventually, you both would have to face each other and the feelings you were too afraid to confront. For now, though, you both had to fulfill your roles, putting on a brave face for the cameras and the fans. But deep down, you knew that this moment wasn't the end—just another chapter in the complicated story of you and Heeseung.

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

Getting Up Next To You

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader (background Jake Lockley x f!reader)

Summary: Steven keeps waking up next to you after you and Jake hook up

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of smut, social anxiety, some angst, general self-hatred, let me know if there is anything else I missed. MINORS DNI

Notes: I just love the idea of Steven being an awkward little bean after waking up next to you. Also the idea of him slowly falling in love and you two being little anxious messes. I’m just obsessed with him and I think he could make me like myself more. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

The first time you met Steven Grant was when he woke up next to you unaware that you would be there. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Waking up next to beautiful women he didn’t remember was not a common occurrence in his life.

Steven almost fell out of the bed when he turned to find you peacefully sleeping next to him. You quickly proceeded to try and calm him down or at least convince him you weren’t an intruder.

“Jake told me this might happen. Are you Marc or Steven?” You quickly questioned trying to deescalate.

It took a second for Steven to process your words. Jake told you? Christ, what had his life become since the third alter joined them.

“Steven. Wait a minute, you know Jake?” He questioned back still confused.

“Yes, we slept together last night. That’s why I’m here.” You answered seeming way too calm for someone that woke up next to a different person sharing the body of your one night stand.

Of course Jake would do something like this. Bring someone into their house and then not even have the common decency to see them out. Steven couldn’t understand how he shared a body with someone so different from himself sometimes.

“I was kind of… spent last night. Couldn’t really walk home afterwards. I’m so sorry I’m bothering you now.” You apologized clinging the bedsheets to your chest.

Oh god that meant you were naked under the sheets. Steven desperately tried to wave that thought away.

“Alright, that is probably more information than I needed to hear. And you’re fine.” Steven said moving away from the bed.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Neither sure what to do in this situation.

“Do you want to have some breakfast? I make some mean scrambled eggs.” You offered moving away from the bed still clinging to the sheets.

Steven was in a dilemma. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was here or if Jake would be mad if he accepted. By the situation you two were in, it was clear his alter wasn’t looking for a lasting relationship. Yet, you seemed so kind and there was so much hope in your offer. Damn Jake, he was the one that put Steven in this situation and he would have to deal with the consequences.

“Breakfast sounds lovely. What’s your name by the way?”

You introduced yourself offering your hand for Steven to shake. You were unreasonably cute. Part of Steven wished he was the one that had met you first.

Steven gave you your clothes and moved to the kitchen busying himself while you changed. He was so different from the person you met last night it almost gave you whiplash. You obviously had liked Jake, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone home with him. Yet where Jake was all sharp edges and hungry looks, Steven was smooth and soft. The fact that he didn’t even try to sneak a look at your naked form really solidified you were dealing with someone different.

Once you were fully clothed, you made the breakfast you promised: scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. You and Steven ate together making conversation. You asked him lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. What was his favorite breakfast food, how long has he lived in London, did he prefer breakfast or dinner. Being socially anxious this was your strategy for when you met new people. Just ask them as many questions as you could, start from what you are doing now and try to trace it back all the way to their family roots. This way conversation would happen and you didn’t have to panic about being in silence and them hating your presence.

Steven was surprisingly disappointed when the meal ended. He wanted to keep talking to you. In the short amount of time you spent together he had rather enjoyed your company. Nobody was usually interested in spending time with him, and yet here you were. A complete stranger that had managed to learn more about him over the span of a meal than most of the people he had been working with for years.

“I’m off then. It was lovely to meet you, Steven.” You said after you helped him put all the dishes in the sink.

“It was lovely to meet you too. I hope we’ll get to see each other again.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. But I hope so too.”

The smile you gave him made his heart melt. Gosh, he would have to beg Jake to make this not a one night stand.

Steven had berated Jake with questions after that morning. He wanted to know all he could about you and yet he was met with the answer of “you were just some girl he met at a bar”.

It’s not like Jake didn’t like you. He most certainly did. You were hot, the sex was amazing, and he actually enjoyed talking to you at the bar. But Jake was not in the business of collecting repeated trading cards. He was not looking for a relationship and was very secure in his choices which just made Steven more displeased that really it was unlikely he would meet you again.

That was of course until he once more woke up next to you and this time actually fell out of the bed in surprise.

“Steven, calm down! It’s just me!” You shouted trying to calm your own rapid heartbeat from the shock of being woken up like that.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You reacted the same way you did last time. Also you have a British accent. Jake told me the other one doesn’t.”

“Jake told you?” Steven questioned uncertain as to why his alter would just offer you information like this. “Yeah, I asked him about you.” You said nonchalantly.

Steven could almost hear his heart stop. Fuck, you asked about him. He tried to not get his hopes up but the very fact you wanted to know more about him had to mean that you also thought about him after. Right?

“I have been dreaming about those scrambled eggs.” He said with a smile.

And about her. You won’t shut up about it. Steven ignored Jake’s voice in his head.

“I’ll gladly make them again for you!”

With that you two did the same as last time with Steven moving to the kitchen to grab ingredients while you put your clothes back on. This time, however, it felt comfortable. Familiar. You didn’t feel stressed around Steven despite the fact you had only met him once and the fact that the voices in your head weren’t screaming that this was awkward and you needed to leave as they usually did was something you didn’t know what to do with.

Truth be told, you had secretly hoped Steven would be the one you woke up next to before you fell asleep the night prior. When you saw Jake from across the bar the previous night you wanted to sink into your seat. The two of them hadn’t left your mind since the last time but as usual it would take way too much courage you didn’t have to actually go speak to him. And he clearly had meant for it to be a one-time thing, you could get the context clues for that. So you can imagine your shock when Jake approached you again, just as flirtatious as last time. One thing led to another and you were once again here with Steven eating eggs.

This time around you asked him if he minded you turning on the TV while you two ate. So you sat next to him watching a re-run of Doctor Who while you still asked questions. This time the questions were all related to his interests and you were perhaps the first person Steven met that didn’t seem to immediately check out when he went on a rant about how Gods of Egypt had gotten it all wrong. Steven was in trouble and he knew it.

Once more, the meal seemed to end way too quickly and before Steven knew it you were taking the dishes to the sink and picking up your bag.

“Wait, don’t you at least want to see the end of the episode? I mean I would be devastated if you didn’t know what happened about those blasted Weeping Angels.” Steven offered.

Truth was you had seen Blink more times than you could count but you still accepted Steven’s offer. There was so much hope in his eyes you just couldn’t say no. You both sat on the couch and continued watching the episode making comments about your thoughts on it. You ended up watching the episode they aired after it too and it was afternoon by the time you finally left.

Steven really hoped Jake would choose to bring you home again.

Before Steven saw you next he argued with Jake endlessly. He lost count of how much time he spent in front of the mirror just grilling Jake on why he wouldn’t invite you on a proper date. He clearly liked you and it was the least you deserved. If Steven couldn’t be in a relationship with you, he at least would like for someone in the system to do it. Yet, as always Jake would give the same answer: he was not interested in a relationship. True, he had slept with you twice. And brought you to the actual apartment versus your own house or the cab. All steps he hadn’t taken with anyone really but that was it. He wouldn’t cross anymore boundaries with you and a date would definitely cross many.

And then, after weeks of arguing, Steven woke up next to you again. Except this time he wasn’t frightened. He didn’t scream or fall out of the bed, he just laid there looking at you and trying to figure out how he could not disturb your sleep and yet still get to spend the day with you. After what felt like years but was probably a couple of minutes your eyes opened and focused on Steven’s. The moment they did you opened an enchanting smile.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this, Steven.” You joked.

“I rather like the sight of you first thing in the morning.” Steven said making your cheeks turn red.

He really hoped that wasn’t too straight forward but it was like these feeling inside of him refused to be contained. He was had it bad for you. Really bad.

“So breakfast?” You simply said already sitting up and looking around for your clothes.

“Actually I was planning to go to the museum today. A new exhibition on modern art just opened and I was going to go today anyway so maybe you could join me? We could get breakfast at the coffee shop there.”

Steven’s voice almost broke at the end. He was so nervous but he just couldn’t bear to think you would leave so early again.

“Don’t you work at the museum?” You questioned.

“Yes, but my boss Donna can be real nasty. She would never let me actually see the exhibition during work hours.” Steven explained.

“Sure then! I would love to!”

Steven almost couldn’t believe the word coming out of your mouth. How could he be so damn lucky?

You two went to the museum and Steven couldn’t have dreamed of something better. You had a genuine discussion about what art was and what your favorite painter were. You ended up seeing the new exhibition but also just walking around the entire museum. You stayed at least an hour in the Egyptian exhibit as Steven told you every detail about every piece and the history behind it.

Steven was enchanting. Gosh, when he went on his rants his eyes lit up and the perpetual dark bags under his eyes seemed to disappear. He was always beautiful but in the museum he absolutely glowed.

When he got too excited about showing you different things he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you from one piece to another. The contact was so small and innocent compared to the ones you’ve had with this same body in the past but it still made you blush. Fuck, you were whipped. You liked Steven. Not only Jake but now you truly couldn’t deny that you were crushing bad on Steven.

By the time you were finished with the museum it was late afternoon. Steven couldn’t remember a day he had enjoyed more. You both had decided to get food at a vegan restaurant close to the museum he loved. The meal was going lovely as always but one thing was in his mind and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Why do you still sleep with Jake?” Steven blurted out almost involuntarily.

“What?”

“You clearly deserve better! You don’t deserve to be with a bloody wanker that will sleep with you and then not even have the decency to wake up next to you!”

To say you had not expected this was an understatement. You stuttered not really sure how to respond.

“Do I deserve better?” You asked letting your insecurity come through.

“Yes! You deserve the world.”

“It really doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” You confessed.

Steven quickly moved from his position on the other side of the booth you were sitting in to get closer to you. He placed his hand on your cheek making you look him in the eye.

“Oh, love. You do. You’re brilliant and you deserve someone who will make you feel like it. You deserve someone who will worship you.” Steven said softly.

“Someone like you?” A boldness took over you and forced you to say it.

You immediately regretted it and was about to apologize when Steven cut you off.

“If you’d have me.”

Instead of replying, you closed the distance between the two of you and kissed Steven. First the kiss was soft, temptation but as soon as he responded it quickly become hungry. Steven had been waiting for this moment for more than a month now and it felt fantastic. It was all he wanted and dreamed it would be.

The next time Steven woke up next to you was different. He wasn’t on the other side of the bed as usual. Instead he was pressed against your back, feeling your warmth as he snuggled closer to you.

He was the one that got to fall asleep next to you the previous night after he was the one to finally ravish your body. Hearing you scream his name as he plunged into you was enchanting and he understood why Jake kept coming back to you.

And now here he was. Getting to look at you in the morning knowing exactly how you both ended up in that position.

You stirred in your sleep and turned to look at him. You opened that same sweet smile that melted his heart.

“Good morning, Steven.”

“Good morning, love.”

[vintagegirl01]

How Would the Moon Boys React: To you wearing something sexy

Steven:

Looks at you in amazement as he admires your body all around. As if you were a deity of some sort, he brings one of your hands to his lips. He then goes onto telling you how beautiful you are as well as how fortunate he is to have you in his life.

Marc:

Straightens himself out before telling you to sit on his lap. This leads to a heated make out session that then leads to cuddling, with you still sitting in his lap. Though silent, both your actions are those filled with love and respect for one another.

Jake:

Gives you the look before walking over to you, carrying you over his shoulder and into the bedroom. The night being filled with endless love making with sweet touches and whispered sweet nothings to one another being exchanged between you both until morning.

[plussizefantasia]

Here's a lil Venus for ya:

Moon Knight trio (although this feels the most like Jake) x plussize!reader (obv)

With the prompts "If I see you again, I swear to God I won't hesitate to kill you" into "Just shut up and kiss me"

Love your work and love you 💕

hahaha I am so sorry that this took so long, I hope you like it anyway though.

Jake Lockely x reader

word count: 1.1k

You can’t believe that bastard left you. The biggest fight of your life and he left you in the dust to go play hero. Jake Lockely was dead to you.

Meeting Jake was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, bumping into him in a corner store in Washington Heights was like fate. You had clicked right away, becoming fast friends and occasionally more. Neither of you thought that labels were necessary but you knew that he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him too.��

It was strange when he invited you to Egypt, he said he had business he needed to take care of but that when it was over he wanted to show you the city, and all the nooks and crannies he had come to love during his visits. Why the New York cabbie would have business in Egypt you really didn’t want to know and you honestly didn’t care. 

You thought that weekend getaways were more of a couple-y thing than your relationship warranted but when he told you that he would be covering the cost for the whole trip you couldn't pass up the offer to visit such a beautiful city with such a rich culture and history.

You never would have said yes if you had known it would end like this. Things were going well, he was showing you the nightlife of one the beautiful city when all of a sudden he just got really stiff. People started running around you and screaming could be heard in the distance. The sky darkened in an instant and you’re not a liar so you’ll admit that you were pretty damn scared.  

“I have to go.” He was monotone and it kind of scared you.

“What do you mean you have to go? What could you possibly have to do right now that is so important?” 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit. You can’t drag me halfway across the world and then leave me alone Jake that's fucked up!”

“Carino. Trust, I would not leave you if I did not need to.”

“Jake, if you leave me right now, I’ll never talk to you again.”

His face flashed with the hurt before it was slated over once more.

“I’m sorry.” He looked you in the eyes and turned, walking towards the chaos and leaving you.

"If I see you again, I swear to God I won't hesitate to kill you Jake Lockely!”

He didn’t turn back.

You spent the rest of the day navigating the confusing streets of Cairo amidst the chaos and danger that the streets seemed to be crawling with. Maneuvering your way through the rag-tag milita that stalked the streets you managed to find shelter. You booked the first flight back to New York and resolved never to speak to one of your best and only friends again.

That resolution lasted all of three days before he showed up on your doorstep practically begging for you to talk to him. Well, he was begging as much as Jake ever does which admittedly is not very much. But he brought flowers which you think means that he really cares. Jake was a hard man to read, he always had been. 

But now, standing on the stoop of your doorstep is the grown man equivalent of a kicked puppy, his hair was raked through, and you could practically feel the way his fingers combed through them. His eyes were bloodshot and his normal mask of annoyance was replaced with something much softer, much more open.

“I’m pretty sure I told you that if I ever saw you again I’d kill you.” 

“I would not blame you.” He pushed the admittedly beautiful bouquet of flowers towards you.

“Jesus, Jake what do you want? You fucking left me. Alone. Halfway across the goddamn world right as shit started to get messy. That’s not something that I can really forgive and forget.”

“I do not expect you to forgive me carino, I just want you to know that I am sorry. I would not have left if I did not have to.”

“Why Jake? That’s all I’ve been asking myself since the moment you walked away.”

He looked off into space, his held titling and his eyes glazing over. All in an instant it seemed he was miles away from you. You stood there confused and a little hurt, it was like he was walking away all over again, leaving you alone. Except this time instead of walking down a dimly lit street wrought with chaos he was folding into his own mind, going somewhere you could never hope to follow.

“Carino, I wish that I could bear everything for you, more than anything but I can’t. Not yet.”

“Jake, you’re shit at apologies has anyone ever told you that?”

‘I have never had to apologize to someone before, I have never wanted… needed to keep someone in my life as much as I do right now.”

You’d hate yourself in the morning for caving this quickly, but you’d yell at yourself for the rest of your life if you let this man go.

“Jake, you’re a mess. An emotionally stunted and unavailable man who tapdances on my last nerve all the damn time. But you’re also my best friend. I don’t know what's going on with you and as much as I’d love to force you to tell me I love you too much to do that. So instead, I just need you to promise me that you won’t leave me again. Because goddamn it Jake you have my heart, and when you walk away you take it with you.”

Your chest heaved with the breaths you took, your cheeks flamed with emotions and you looked anywhere but at the man you practically just confessed your undying love to.

Jake didn’t let you get away with that, he grasped your chin between his fingers and lifted your head just a touch, enough to meet his eyes as he spoke. 

“Mi Vida, know this. I was not made for love, I was made to protect, to defend at any cost. I did not know that I could care for anyone as much as I care for you. I’ll spend the rest of whatever time I have on this earth protecting your heart, it; 's the most precious-” 

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

[foreverinadais]

forehead kisses: mk system

summary: how and when the moon knight system give you forehead kisses.

warnings: fluff (i swear this was therapy to write), tiny bit of angst but not between the reader and the boys :)

word count: 1.8k

~STEVEN~

The tears had gathered in your waterline as soon as you reached the door. Something about this place, this flat, offered a sense of home you had never had. The familiarity alone made you feel safe enough to cry.

You tapped the door, a weak attempt of a knock, but Steven heard, had been waiting by the door since you had messaged you had left. A bright beam was on his face, a soft glisten in his eyes as he swung the door open, ready to bear hug you into his arms. But his expression faltered at the sight of yours; watery eyes, lip trembling, body hunched in defeat.

He didn’t say anything as he took your hand in his own, leading you through the doorway, nudging the door shut with his foot. You followed meekly; his hand soft, warm. Your grip tightened. He noticed immediately.

“D’you want to talk about?” He asked, voice so soft, so gentle, it made you want to crumble. You shook your head, not a no, just a not yet. He nodded in understanding, taking your work bag off you, placing it on the side, before getting to work on ridding you of your jacket. All in a silence so comfortable, it made the thoughts begin to dissipate in your head.

He led you to the sofa, sitting down and leading you to do the same- you did. “C’mere,” he whispered, “need’t hold you. Can I hold you, my love?” You nodded, and as soon as your body met his, the dam broke. He tutted, but not at you; at whatever it was that had caused you any kind of pain. One hand stroked up your back, the other cradled your head into his shoulder.

“ ‘s okay, let it all out, there you go.” You did, all the pent up emotion of the day, week, coming out all at once to him. And when your sobs subsided to sniffles, he was there, still.

“ ‘m sorry.” You croaked, releasing yourself from his grip, only slightly, only to wipe at your eyes. He was already there, swiping a stray tear away with his thumb, a concerned look evident in the lines between his eyes.

“Whatever for?”

“I didn’t want to cry, not to you. I didn’t want to ruin your day and now I have and ‘s not fair-”

“Don’t be silly, baby. You didn’t ruin anythin’, you never have, ever. I want you to cry to me. I would do anythin’ to be the one you cry too for the rest of time, ’kay?” You sniffled, looking down from his gaze, nodding hesitantly. “Hey, lemme see your wonderful face. Missed you.” He demanded, but his tone was light, cheeky.

You obliged, the first smile since entering his flat appearing on your lips. He grinned in triumph, pulling you in for a kiss, then another, and another. You giggled, his name leaving your lips with a laugh. “I love you.” You whispered, and he could swear his heart reinvented itself every time those words left your lips.

“I love you more. Promise.” You hit his chest in joke protest, but he caught your hand in his, pulling you back into his body. His breath fanned over your head, and you swore your heart sang as he pressed a firm, sure, loving kiss onto your forehead. A sigh of contentment left you, and you felt your body finally relax. “Now, tell me about your day, sweetheart.”

~MARC~

You had looked after him plenty of times before. Cleaned up his wounds, bandaged his cuts, leaving affirmations and soft touches in your path. Marc accepted it, though he would never admit just how much he needed your touch. He would never ask for it.

Especially not today.

When Marc had stumbled through the door at a late hour, muttering under his breath with irritation, you knew instantly the type of day he had. You put the bookmark in your book, placing it on the side before swinging out of bed. You never slept until you knew he was safe, until he was back with you.

Marc had his back turned away from you, lost in thought, or argument, struggling with his jacket before hanging it up. You called his name softly, enough to break through the wall in his mind, and he turned instantly.

“Oh, baby.” You whispered at the sight of his bruised eye and bust lip. He shrugged, laughing, but you could tell it wasn’t in humour. “What happened?” Marc sighed, shaking his head, coming close to you, but not close enough. You filled the gap immediately, running a hand through his curls before cupping his jaw.

“You should see the other guy.” You smiled, rolling your eyes.

“You say that every time.”

“ ‘s true.” You rose an eyebrow, a silent encouragement to get him to continue, to be serious. He sighed again, dropping his gaze form your own. “Got jumped by three of Harrow’s guys. Fought them off alright, but they managed to get a few hits.”

“You fought them off? You did good, why are you feeling bad?” He knew you didn’t mean physically.

“Cause I almost didn’t! ‘s, I don’t know, embarrassing. Konshu would be pissed off and…” he trailed off, but you encouraged him with a gentle grab of his hand. “Don’t wanna bother you.”

“What?” He seemed exasperated, and you ran your thumb over the skin of his palm, feeling his heartbeat increase.

“When I come back… hurt, or whatever, it’s you that has to deal with it. ‘s not fair, not for you. I just, I wanna give you the best, baby. Feel like I don’t do that.”

“Oh, Marc.” You whispered, sympathy and care dripping off your tone. “You could never bother me, ever. I hate seeing you hurt, but I love caring for you, I’ll do it happily. Because I love you.” He didn’t seem convinced, and you tipped is gaze up to meet yours. It was rare you were in charge of such intimate actions, and it made his heart skip a beat, his mouth run dry. “You give me the best every day. Promise.”

“Don’t deserve you.” He muttered quietly, but you caught it, crumpled it up, threw it away.

“ s’not true at all.” He sighed once more, playing with your fingers, yearning for your touch. You heard him silently, tugging his hand toward the bed. “Let’s lie down, yeah?” He nodded, stifling a yawn as you got comfy under the covers, him not far behind.

He didn’t reach for you like he normally did, not when he felt so vulnerable. No, you reached for him, pulling him to you. He gripped your waist tightly; afraid you’d vanish if he let go for even a millisecond.

“How’s your head, baby?” You asked, and he hummed.

“ ‘s fine. Hurts a little, but ‘m fine now.” You smiled, reaching down, moving the stray curls out the way before planting a kiss on his forehead. His skin flushed, heart stopping at the action. You repeated it once, twice more for good measure, repeating ‘I love you’ so it stuck.

Marc felt his eyes shut, consumed by your love, finally feeling at peace.

~JAKE~

Jake had been anxiously awaiting for you in his car for well over an hour. He had dropped you off with a kiss and soft words of praise, and you had told him he didn’t need to hang around, that you’d call when you were finished. But after you had left, he found himself staying. Not wanting to miss as you came out, so he could be there for any and every reaction you had.

So that he could celebrate you or comfort you- he didn’t think for a minute it would be the latter.

But your nerves had transferred over to him, leaving a pit in his chest. He knew you should get this job; you had worked your ass off ever since he had known you. He was ready to march in and show or tell that to anyone who didn’t agree.

He glanced at the clock again, a profanity leaving his mouth at the time. He felt such an intense urge for you, to see you and kiss you and know you were okay. He wished for your success well over his own. Like, it only mattered if you were happy, if you got your dreams- you had scolded him for thinking that more times than he could count.

Jake jumped at the sound of the passenger door opening. Fuck, he had zoned out, lost in the thoughts of you, like he usually was. You were there now, scrambling into the passenger seat, eyes lit up and wild. He didn’t have to ask because you were already exclaiming - “I got it! I got the job!”

A sound of utter happiness and pride left Jake, and he felt his heart beam as you practically leapt into his arms, ignoring the way the gear shift dug into your thighs as you settled in his lap. Jake held you close to him, praise and love falling from his lips as though it was all he could ever say to you. Your body radiated warmth- as though you were the sun personified.

Jake pulled away, kissing all over your face; your cheeks, your jaw, your eyelids, eventually your lips. You laughed, happily accepting, feeling dizzy all over again. “ ‘m so fucking proud of you.” He said, pulling away, a look of sincerity etched into his features you had never seen before. You smiled gratefully, emotion rising in your throat as you thanked him, hands in his hair. “Seriously. Tan orgulloso- so proud.”

“Thank you, Jake. I couldn’t have done any of this without your support-”

“Na-uh, this was all you. All you, mi amor.” He kissed you again, and you sighed with joy.

“Love you.” You murmured, and he grinned, face heating as if he had never heard you say it before.

“Te amo. Love you so much.” You spent a moment, then, staring at each other, taking in the serene moment. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, desperate to keep this memory of you forever. Smiling, proud of yourself, thighs squeezing his legs, hands in his hair. Fuck, it was everything he could ever wish for.

Lost in the thought, he cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down softly so that your forehead was level with his lips. He kissed the skin, lips lingering, taking in the moment. Your breath hitched. You had kissed him countless times, even just in the car, but somehow, this moment felt so intimate, you could hardly breathe.

He noted your flustered expression as he pulled away, tipping your chin up with his fingers. “Now, how should we celebrate?” You grinned, wasting no time before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. “Good plan.”