#Jewish reader

[by-ego]

Call me evil but everyone talks about Asher in away where he doesn’t seem confrontational at all and that (from posts I’ve seen) isn’t protective of Baabe at all and that Baabe is more protective even though he’s a werewolf and they aren’t! So sweet soft werewolf boy flips a switch and turns scary deadly.

Also I really do feel like people sleep on Baabe!

AHH I love this request!! And I agree, Asher doesn't really seem protective of them in peoples posts, but in several of his adios, he actually is. For example the date-night-in where he chooses to stay in becuase of Quinn so Babe isn't put in any sort of danger. I littrely love him so much. So in my mind he is protective, just not possesive or jelous. And you're so right, people do sleep on Babe so much, like they are so underrated.

This is the first time I really write something like this, and english is not my first languge so excuse any mistakes.

I hope you enjoy!!

TW for this one; stalking, fighting, violance, blood, SA (very vauge) and it's kinda long

<3

It started with that guy just standing outside of their work when they ended and walked to their car. And then, he was there in the morning when Babe came in for work. Babe was telling Asher that they were a bit creeped out by it, but for all they knew, he could have been waiting for someone, but even Ash thought that was a bit far-fetched.

Then it escalated, he started following them through the parking lot. Then, he got in his own car, parked oddly close to theirs, and followed them. When they got closer to their apartment complex, the car still following them, they realised how odd it was. A gut feeling told them he was up to no good, so they called Ash. 

"Hey babe, what's up?" His cheery voice called through the phone. He was at David's place, planning some stuff for a pack meeting. They could hear the sound of glass against wood and an immediate curse following from the Alpha from the other side of the line, showing that David was there. Babe took a deep breath, one hand on the wheel, one hand holding the phone to their ear. "By the way, you're on speaker, just so you know" Asher adds before they could tell him the situation. But it didn’t matter, Babe trusted David a lot. "I think I'm being followed, you know the creepy guy I told you about from work, I think he is following me. I don't really know what to do. I don't want to drive home", their voice was shaky, scared due to the situation. "Drive to us," they could hear David's deeper voice, followed by "yeah, we'll wait for you here and you and we'll drive home later together” Asher's voice sent a feeling of relief through their body, and they turned their car around. 

Asher wasn’t as big or gloomy as David, but he was sure as hell not small. His attitude made him seem cheery and welcoming, but when he was standing on David's poarch, waiting to get his mate, his demeanour had changed drastically. Babe barely recognized their mate. On the other hand, he did work security, they just hadn’t seen him like this. Sure they had seen him punch some guy in the jaw once when he was drunk for slapping Babes ass, but he was drunk and still didn’t give off that overly protective aura. They knew he was protective, but Babe was a careful person, and for as long as they had been with Asher, they had successfully managed to stay out of danger or trouble of pretty much any sort. So by them never really needing to be protected, he didn’t really have to protect them. And he definitely wasn’t the jealous type, if someone flirted with his mate that was not his problem. Babe was smart, and witty, and always shut down the person with sassy comments. Unless they made Babe uncomfortable, then, he was more than willing to beat the shit out of them. 

Now that Babe was pulling up in the driveway of David and Angels house, Asher's usual inviting and comforting vibe was washed away. As soon as their car had stopped moving he walked up to the car and opened the door, offering them his hand, pulling them out of the car and close to his body. A harsh kiss crashed onto Babe's lips. The car that had followed them all the way here, crept along the street, but sped off when David started walking towards it. Babe let out a deep sigh of relief and rested their head against Asher's chest. His significantly bigger size used to piss them off since he would tease them about it by holding stuff over their head making them unable to reach it or easily picking them up when they were doing something and Asher wanted to cuddle. But now, right here, with his strong arms around them, it just felt safe. They looked up, and Asher smiled warmly. There the sweetness they knew him for was. They smiled tiredly, back at him, and then turned to thank David, and Asher. “You’re part of my pack, my family. We protected each other” David stated, offering them a comforting smile. “Look at me Babe” Asher said, and they looked up at him, “you are my mate. I would do anything for you, this was the least I could do. In reality I wanted to shift and rip that guy out of his car and give him a good beating. But my main priority is keeping you safe”. The statement shocked Babe  a little bit, but in all honesty, they even found it a bit attractive.   

Little did Babe know, this would just be the start.

For Babes and Asher's anniversary a year or so back, Ash had given Babe a pocket knife. He knew that Babe had a pocket knife that their grandpa had given them in their home country, but when they had moved to the US they had gotten it confiscated, and Asher knew that they always wanted a new one. So for their anniversary he had gotten them a new one. Asher had asked David, who also carries one, to help him pick one for them. After the incident with the man following them, they started carrying it daily. Plus, when they turned on their location, Asher got a notification. Just in case, they said, hoping that it wouldn’t be needed. It would.  

Maybe a week after, the incident was still lingering in the far back of their mind, but they didn’t really pay it much mind. The man hadn’t been seen since they had driven to Davids. No creeping around corners or anything, but Babe still felt a bit uneasy. Work flowed on like normal though, and life with Asher was nothing but great. He had very quickly gone back to being his cheery and easy self. They had mentioned it to a coworker, but they had never noticed the man, now or before. That gave Babe some comfort and soon their guard was back down, or at least not on high alert. Big mistake. 

Babes' phone vibrated, and they saw Asher's name on the display. Babe picked up and put the phone on speaker, alone in their office, no one would hear anything. Not that it mattered much, Asher had just called to ask when they would be coming home and what kind of take out they wanted. As they looked out of the mountains of paperwork on their desk, they informed him that they would be home late and to just order anything that was kosher and could be reheated later for when they came home. He huffed, but didn’t argue with them. As much as they wanted to just go home to their fiance and cuddle and eat something, they had to finish this. Ash knew that, and he was proud of his mate and how hardworking they are, even though he was also worried for them and scared that they would burn themself out. Little did Asher nor Babe know, that was not the reason Ash would have to worry for his mate today. 

When they, much later, and exhausted, start getting ready to go home, it was already dark outside. A gut feeling hit them, something felt incredibly wrong. Babes hand went down to their pocket, to the knife and their phone. Their hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. Babe tried taking deep breaths, hoping to not get themself worked up over a gut feeling. But they stepped out of their office boulding and onto the parking lot with a tight grip of the pocket knife, the blade ready to be pushed out if needed. Thoughts and anxiety were racing in their mind, faster than they could process. They wished Asher was here with them, they hated being alone late like this. Babe used to like the dark, they really did, but right now it was just adding to the fear and anxiety factor. But, they took a deep breath and started the walk to the other side of the parking lot where they had parked their car. “Why did I park my car so far away?” Babe thought, mentally scolding themself. They knew that was not going to help their situation one bit, but that was not going to stop their overactive mind. Then they heard footsteps behind them, following them. They whipped around, body burning with fear at who they saw.  

*Ping* Asher's eyes turned from the screen where Star trek was playing, and when he saw the notification his heart dropped. Babe had turned on their location. He knew they used it as a safety measure, but he wanted to make sure his mate was safe. Quicker than ever before he dialled their number, his fingers knowing the pattern even if he had it saved and could just call them through his contact list. One dial, two, three. “Ash, help” his fiance whimpered out his name, breath catching in their throat. He let out a growl, he knew what was happening. “Coming” he breathed out. The wolf inside him wanted out, wanted to protect his mate, he ran. Out of the apartment complex and right before his wolf ripped out he looked at Babes location. Still in the parking lot. He shifted, rage dripping in his blood and the need to protect his mate spurring him to run faster. Hate of anyone who dared to hurt his mate poisoned his bones. He had forgotten to lock their apartment, but that was currently the last thing on his mind. The only coherent thought in his brain was protecting his mate. 

The blade pushed out of the knife in Babe's hand. They know how to use it, a perk of growing up with older brothers. But even with the knowledge that Asher was on his way, and with the knife in their hand, they were scared and they knew the man could see that. He was more than double their size, the light of a streetlight behind him illuminating him with a ghostly light, cold eyes, calloused and rough hands and a sinister smile playing on his lips. After what felt like an eternity they turned around and ran, they dropped their bag on the grass, hoping to dampen the fall for their computer and valuables. Then they reprimanded themself for even caring about something like that in this situation. Their life was in danger, getting chased by some crazy stalker and they care about their bag. Babe wanted to laugh at themself. It was ridiculous. But, it kept their mind from collapsing into the lingering panic attack. They felt the atmosphere heat up, seemingly without a reason, it confused Babe considering the cool summer night. 

A howl, Asher. The sound ringed their ears. Relief spread through their body and in combination with the unexplainable heat, they slowed down, which turned out to be a mistake. The man had of course not paid much mind to the sound and grabbed them from behind, gripping their wrist preventing them from stabbing him with the knife. Babe struggles and in their struggle, they manage to graze the man with their knife causing him to rage at them. He grabbed the knife and threw it over the parking lot, ripping their blouse from their body, leaving them exposed. His hand clasped around Babes throat, cutting off their air flow. As they gasped for air, clawing with their nails on the man's wrist, he laughed. Now, that was his mistake. The sound of sadistic laughter and the chipping of air filled Asher's ears. His mate. Their scent, filled with fear and panic guided him to them. Lunging at the man, ripping him away from Babe, who landed on the hard concrete gasping for air. 

The man wasn’t small, but when he was pinned down by Ash's wolf he was no match. A deep, animalistic, guttural, terrifying growl escaped the shifter's mouth. He was decimeters away from sinking his teeth into this man's skull and ripping it from his body, but a tang of morality overrode his protective anger. Just as he was gonna shift back and punch the guys face in instead, fire erupted around them. “A fire elemental” he thought. Asher growled again and snapped his jaws close to the man's face, hoping to intimidate him, but when the fires got bigger he could hear his mate scream in pain as the flames grazed them and they scrambled away from the fires. The man took the moment and tried to flee, but the wolf's claws ripped the mans back bloody. The fire elemental screamed and fell, but not before setting Asher's fur on fire. The man, writhing in pain, was unable to control the fires that couldn't burn on concrete alone without the man, started dying down. Asher let out another howl, this one in pain and anger. But he shifted back to human form, ripping his burning sweatshirt from his body. Ash slowly stepped closer to the man, who had gotten up to his knees. Both of the empowered men stared at each other, rage in their eyes. The man tried getting up, but was immediately kicked to the ground by Asher's boot. “Don’t you fucking dare” he hissed between gritted teeth. His fist met with the man's face, over and over again. His jeans ripped as Ash's knees made contact with the concrete as he sat over the man, landing blow after blow to the man, knocking him out. The man had gotten in a few blows at first, trying to fight back, but the fire elemental had nothing on the raged shifter. 

“ASHER” his mate screeched. They ran up to him, trying to rip him from their attacker. “You’re gonna kill him” they cried, and he wanted to, God knows Asher wanted to kill the man. Right before Asher had gotten to the man he had seen how he ripped his mate's blouse off and how he had lifted them off the ground by their neck. How his Babe had gasped for air, scared, exposed and alone. But his hands rested at his side, taking a deep breath before he got up. And when he got a good look at Babe he wanted to take the knife they had picked up again, he wanted to rip it from their hands and carve the man's heart out. Their hair was a mess, bruises on their throat and almost fully bare upper body, burn marks on their legs and arms, their back, shoulder and cheek scraped up from landing on the concrete. Their eyes were glossy, and some tears had already left salty traces on their face. Babes chest was taking fast and shallow breaths, still clearly scared and now also worried for their mate. Asher quickly pulled his t-shirt off and put it on his fiance, letting them have a little bit of dignity back even though no one was there. Then the water works came, sulking and crying into his chest as he wrapped his arms around them. They winched in pain and closed their fists even harder. “Shhh, baby it’s okay, I’ve got you. No one will hurt you as long as I am here” he whispered. He patted over their tailored trousers to find that their phone was miraculously still there and he called Tank from their phone. A sigh of relief came from him when they told him Sam and they were home. “See you soon,” Asher said without further explanation and hung up. He picked his mate up, letting their head rest on his shoulder. Babe whimpered his name. “We’re gonna get you healed okay? You’re gonna be okay” he comforted. “It’s you I’m worried about” they mumbled into his neck. His heart sank, even in this state, they were worried about him. “I’ll be okay, I promise” he sighed. He was in pain sure, he had gotten some bad burnes and some punches, but nowhere near in how bad of a state they were. “Where are your car keys?” he asked, hoping he would not have to carry them to Sams, even though he definitely would if it came to that. “Bag, on the grass close to my car.” He just nodded and followed their scent trail. And sure enough, there Babe’s stuff was, safe and sound. He admired his mate's cleverness. He threw the bag over his shoulder and unlocked the car. Placing them in the passenger seat without hurting them was tricky, considering basically their whole body was scraped, some worse than others, but eventually he managed decently. Sitting down in the driver's seat he breathed out a deep sigh. He tried to stretch out his legs, but failed, considering he was bigger than babe and they had been the one driving the car before him. He let out a small laugh. “What?” babe asked as Asher chuckled. “After a fight like this, something so mundane as having to push back the seat so my legs fit can feel weird, I guess” Babe laughed too.  He loved hearing them laugh. His entire chest filled with warmth and he leaned over to place a gentle kiss on their lips, basically the only part that wasn’t hurt on them. Other than their beautiful eyes.        

Babe woke up in Asher's hoodie, the one with the Shaw security logo. In their own bed, with Asher's arms around them. Babe didn’t remember much after they fell asleep in the car, exhausted and finally feeling safe. Fragments of Sam's magic flowing through their body, body stitching itself back up. Moments of Tanks worried voice basically interrogating Asher about what happened. 

“You awake?” Asher's soft voice gently led them back to reality. “Mhm” they let out. His strong arms brought them closer to him. “I love you so fucking much Babe, I’m so damn sorry I didn’t get to you faster. I’m sorry this happened” his voice was steady, strong. Strong for them. But his eyes showed worry. And fear. Fear that they were scared of him, after what he did. But they just balled their fists up in his shirt and whispered, “I love you, you saved me.” Babe's voice showed true gratitude and their eyes glittered with love. He smiled. “Anything for my mate” “I was so scared” they said it like they just realised it. Asher nodded, his eyes sad, “and I was scared that man was going to hurt you” they continued. Asher's hand rested on their cheek, thumb moving over their lips. “You’re safe now, I’m never letting anyone hurt you again” he didn’t want to show how angry he still was. He pressed a gentle kiss to their lips. Babes' arms moved around his neck and deepened the kiss, desperate to feel him. His other hand found their hip and rested it there. He rested his forehead on theirs, eyes locked. Their lower lip trembled, like they wanted to cry again. “Let it out, cry if you want to,” he comforted, but they shook their head no. “I’m just happy we’re okay,” they mumbled. 

#protective Asher #redacted asher #redacted babe #redacted asmr #jewish babe #jewish reader #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted angel #redacted shaw pack #redacted Sam #redacted tank

[romanarose]

Lights

Jackson!Joel Miller x Jewish!OFC (second person)

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Summary: Two holiday lighting traditions warm Jackson's town square and Joel's grumpy heart.

Warnings: It's mostly just fluff lmfaooo at most theres a scene where Esther is thinking about the outbreak, she mentions the holocaust and other antisemetic violence in the real world and antisemitism i just kinda made up in TLOU. It just seemed realistic.

Immersability: Labled as OFC but told in second person. This is my take on "Esther" who Tommy tries to set Joel up with between TLOU 1 and 2. No description other than name, fem, and Jewish.

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*****************

“This is stupid” Joel muttered to himself. He was too old for this. Nearing 60 was an insane age to be asking a woman on a date. Joel knew Tommy had been trying to push them together and at first, Joel was not at all interested… but it was hard not to fall for you. Whatever, it couldn’t hurt, right?

Your front door opened, and you were clearly startled to see Joel there, but not disappointed at least. “Oh! Joel? What are you doing here?”

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh, was justa ‘bout to knock.”

“It’s okay.” You relax. “Can I help you with something?”

You were so sweet. “Well, yeah I actually wanted to ask yuh…” Joel hesitated. This was so stupid. Why was he so fucking nervous? “Well the town’s christmas tree light’n ceremony is in a few days and um, well, I was hope’n maybe you’d wanna go?” He paused. “With me, I mean.”

Softly, you smiled at him, but you were taking way too long to answer. He prepared himself for rejection, because anything other than an enthusiastic yes was bound to be a disaster. “That’s very sweet of you, but, I’m Jewish, actually.”

Oh. That was new. He didn’t know tha. Joel realized he operated under the assumption that everyone was either christian by practice or by culture. Not that he didn’t think other religions still existed but he was just a small town southern man at heart. Not exactly a think outside the box type of man, and Jackson only had the one preacher after all, a vague non-denominational type. Act normal. “Well, uh, that’s great” Dumbass. He watched your lip quirk up a little. “Well, the ceremony isn’t really a religious thing.”

Relaxing, you lean up against your dorm frame. You cross your arms but not unwelcomingly. “You’re tell’n me the old preacher man ain’t gonna say a few ords about the miracle of the birth of a Messiah I don’t believe in?”

Joel felt a little stupid, and worried he’d offended you. Looking down, he scoffed his boot a bit and started his apology tour. “No, no yer right, miss, I wasn’t think’n. I apoligize, I didn’t mean to- well, I didn’t wanna be rude about yer religion and… and all that.” All that? Get it fucking together, Joel. “I’m sorry, miss, I’ll be going-”

“Joel.” You stop him, a teasing smile on your face remaining kind. “It’s alright, you didn’t offend me, honey.” You sigh, then stand up. “Listen, normally I’d just go. I like town stuff and lights are pretty, and it’d just ignore the preach’n like I did when I was in high school. But, the day of the ceremony is the first night of Hanukkah, and I ain't even got a menorah to light, ain’t for decades. Would feel wrong to light up someone else’s religion when I can’t even celebrate mine, you know?”

Joel couldn’t say he quite got it. He was raised southern baptist of course but hasn’t really kept up outside of obligatory holidays. He had Sarah baptized, but didn’t pray for years since she died, save for the moment he had the gun to his head, praying God would take him to where she was… He’d prayed a few times here and there, sometimes when Ellie or Tommy were in danger, and last winter when his nephew, Jack was deathly sick as a newborn. Yeah, he’d bow his head during services but he really only went because Tommy asked him to make an appearance sometimes, said it was good for Jack to see his family at church. Ellie didn’t go, churches and prayers making her uncomfortable now.

Still, just because he wasn’t religious doesn’t mean it wasn’t important. It clearly was to Tommy. “I get it, I’ll leave yuh be then.” He turned to leave.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“I’d love to take you up on your offer to another event.”

*

Joel had promised to make good on that, but already he was formulating a plan in his head. It hadn’t really occurred to him how down bad he was for you, how much wanted you, to hold you, to kiss you, to- He shook his head. 

“Maria?” Joel called as he let himself in.

She rounded the corner holding his almost 3 year old godson. “Sure Joel, come on in.” Maria said sarcastically, but smiled.

“Gimmie” Joel made grabby hands to Jack.

Maria continued her sarcasm. “Hi Joel, I’m great, thank you for asking.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t look too sorry as he lit up when Jack dove out of his moms arms to him.

“Unca Jojo!!!” He squealed.

“Heya buddy!” He cringed when he got a whiff of him. “Jesus, Jack Jack, you stink!”

Maria nudged Joel to the bathroom. “You can change him, since you’re so excited to see him. And watch you language, you know how Tommy feels about that.”

Maria and Joel side eye each other a look. The pair had found common ground over the years. They both cared about Jackson, both loved Tommy and would do anything for Jack. However, recently, him and Maria had come to more than just an understanding, they’d actually begun to like each other, bonding over Tommy’s “come to Jesus” episode. Maria was decidedly not religious, but not athiest. Joel often found himself searching for Maria’s eyes when Tommy did or said something, and he often found them already smiling at him. Tommy had a rule against swearing and using the lord's name in vain around Jack, which Joel tried to respect.

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asked.

“Oh, I see you remember your dear brother all of a sudden.” She teased him. “He’s upstairs, I’ll go gab him-”

“Actually, I came to see you.”

“Oh. Everything alright?”

“Can’t I see my dear sister-in-law without something being wrong?”

She simply cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Fine, fine. But no, noth’n’s wrong. I just wanted to ask you, since you were a big city woman and all that. More knowledgeable than this small town hick.” Joel referenced himself. 

“Hick!” Jack repeated excitedly as Joel tugged on a new pull up. “Hickie! Hickie! Hickie!”

Maria laughed. “You’re explaining Jack’s new word to Tommy.”

Joel smiled, pulling up his pants. “That’s what uncles are for.”

“Whaddya wanna ask?” They exited the bathroom.

“Do you know anything about judaism?”

Maria burst into an uncharacteristically loud laugh, then called up the stairs. “Tom! You win! I owe you a foot rub!”

“Ew.” Joel grimances. “What could you possibly put on the line to touch his nasty feet. You know he got athletes food so bad he permanently lost two two nails right?”

“Yes Joel, we’re married. I’ve seen his feet. Believe it or not, I’ve even seen him naked.”

Joel gagged. “What the bet? Or do I not wanna know.”

“Tommy was insistent he could get you and Esther today if he played his cards right.”

“How do you know this is about Esther?”

“How many Jewish people do you know in Jackson?”

“Until an hour ago, none.”

“You though a woman named Esther was a gentile?”

“My named Joel, that Hebrew.”

“Fair enough.”

Tommy skipped down the stairs, not as fast as he might have been years ago but still that spring in his step Joel hoped he’d never lose. “Heya Joel! You finally ask Esther out?” He smiled broadly, that shit eating grin he always had when he thought he was right. Tommy reached out his arms for Jack, but Jack stayed with Joel.

“Yeah, and I looked like a fucking idiot.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary their! What did you do, bring up slaughtering an entire hospit-” Maria smacked Tommy and he stopped.

“No.” Joel emphacized, glaring at Tommy. “I asked her to go to the christmas tree lighting, and she told me she was Jewish and it was hanukkah, and now I look like a fucking backwards hick and she probably hates me and-”

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose. “She doesn’t hate you.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. She did say she’d like to go out another time but that was probably to get me off her porch.”

“You anxiety ridden idiot.”

“I don’t have anxiety!”

“Sure, your goddamn panic attacks are for fun-”

Tommy snatched his son out of Joel’s arms. “Hey! Language!”

Joel and Maria apologized, and Tommy took Jack to the kitchen table to feed him a snack.

“What did you need help with, Joel” Maria asked him, bringing Joel back to the original purpose of his visit.

“What the fuck is a menorah.”

“JOEL!” Tommy glared at him, and Jack started muttering fuck, fuck, fuck as Maria and Joel tried to stiffle a laugh, glancing at each other.

*

It was a few days later as you watched the sun setting from your back window. You couldn’t do much, but you had managed to make a few traditional treats, latkes and friend donuts. Hanukkah didn’t need fancy meals, but oily food, traditionally. Still, you wished you could do more. Over the last 20 years, survival had been the primary thing on your mind. There wasn’t time to celebrate holidays when you were barely alive. How do you observe Shabbat when every single day requires hard work just to make it through? When you settled into Jackson this year, you slowly began begging able to observe more and more, but it wasn’t like the small Wyoming town had a Jewish population. You were the only Jew you knew, but it wasn’t like you were super obvious about it.

You didn’t really hide it, but it wasn’t something you shouted from the rooftops. When everything fell apart, you quickly learned that conspiracies in the QZ’s spread that the outbreak was a Jewish conspiracy, that the governments were ran by Jews, so on and so forth. You learned to keep that part of you quiet after your window got shot out for having a Star of David displayed. Jackson seemed safe, but you couldn’t be so sure. 

Still, your people’s story was one of survival in the most extreme of circumstances, and the outbreak was no exception. You endured and survived, just like Jew’s had through the holocaust, through a myriad of attempted genocides, including the survival of one you are celebrating now, menorah or not. As you fry a few more latkes, you hear a knock on the door. Strange, considering you didn’t get visitors much and you figured everyone would be at the town square.

 Last person over had been Joel, actually, and your heart fluttered at the memory. You desperately hoped he’d ask you out again. From the moment he walked into Jackson you fell for him. The obvious love he had for his brother, the way he protected a child that wasn’t his own… adoption was a great mitzvah, something you admired strongly about him. He was a good man, hard working, cared for his community and his family. And insanely hot. You doubted he’d have much interest in you, considering the amount of women who wanted him… the fact he wanted to ask you out verses someone younger just sealed to you the kind of man he was.

When you opened the door, you were thrilled to see that same man at your door again. 

“Hey Joel, what’s up?” You ask, wishing you didn’t sound so fucking stupid. He had something behind his back you couldn’t quite see. 

“Hi.” Joel smiled, nervous. “I um… well I wanted to say Happy Hanukkah and um… bring you this. I hope I ain’t over stepping but Maria said it would be fine but, what does she know, right?” He laughed nervously, still not showing you what he brought and still not meeting you’re eye. “So, if it’s inappropriate just tell me and I’ll fuck right off-”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, then held out the hand he had been hiding.

“Joel…” Your heart sores, touched beyond belief. He made you a menorah.

“I um, I welded it… Maria told me the basics. Brought candles too, I dunno if its supposed to be blessed by a rabbi or made from a certain metal or-”

You nearly tackle him in a hug. “Joel! That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me!”

It took him a moment to react, but soon Joel was hugging you back. You invite him inside, and he doesn’t want to intrude, but you tell him you’d love the company for the holiday.

*

Years and years ago, a cousin of Joel and Tommy got married to a catholic woman. Some of his family was weird about it, but Tommy and Joel thought that was stupid, so they drove the 10 hours as teenagers to go to the wedding to make a point. It was different to be sure, but something that stood out to Joel was the use of latin. Although he couldn’t understand a lick of it outside of hallelujah, 19 year old Joel thought there was something so beautiful in its use.

He felt that was as he watched you light the first candle on the menorah, saying the prayers in Hebrew. The fact you still could was vastly impressive to him. There were years where sometimes he swore he’d forgotten English, avoiding talking as much as possible. You looked so beautiful he could kiss you right there.

You shared so much with him that evening. Little pieces of your life, the story of Hanukkah, these yummy potato pancakes things… he was absolutely enthralled.

“Oh!” You gasp, looking outside. “The tree lighting! You don’t wanna miss it!”

“I’d rather be here with you, if that’s alright.”

You smile sweetly. “Won’t Ellie miss you?”

Joel rolls his eyes a little and waves his hand. “Nah, she’s got her own friend group now. Attached at the hip to that Dina girl. She don’t need this old man anymore.”

“That’s not true.” He was joking, but you wanted him to know. “She’s always gonna need her dad.”

“I ain’t her dad.” But it didn’t sound like he believed it. He held his hot chocolate in hand, looking down at it

You reach out, gently touching where his hand warmed at the base of the mug. “You are in every way that counts. You love her, and you take care of her. Blood don’t matter when you put up a shelf in her room or cook her dinner or make her eat her vegetables. You’re her dad.”

Joel smiled, looking up at you again. “It’s nice be’n here. With you.”

“I like have’n you here.”

“Maybe after Hanukkah I can make good on my promise to take you out? Jackson ain’t exactly known for its downtown restaurant scene, but I can take you dance’n, if that’s something you’d like.”

Your feel the heart palpitations, making you giddy as a young girl with a crush again. Joel made you feel like a teenager, like all the age, all the trauma, all the horrors washed away.

“I’d like that a lot.”

********************

I know this one isnt gonna go anywhere bc anything with readersreligion being specified isn't super popular, and theres no smut, but its okay <3 it's special to meeeeee

if you are looking for more jewish content, check out Seattle series on my marc spector masterlist for a emotional but sweet marc story of finding love, his religion and his family again <3

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @neverwheremoonchild @winniethewife @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou 2 #joel miller x ofc #joel miller fluff #the last of us fluff #jewish reader #hanukkah #hanukkah fanfiction #hanukkah special

[commander-writergirl]

Red String of Fate

Synopsis: In a world where your soulmate is picked for you with a name tattooed, you are born with the rare trait of not seeing colors until you meet yours. You never expected the universe to foresee the divided mind of your other half.

Pair: Jake Lockley x Jewish!fem!reader, Steven Grant x Jewish!Fem!reader, Marc Spector.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none (as of right now)

Word Count: 1709

Notes: This was brought on by either @softlyspector​ or @starryeyedstories​ talking about liking soulmate AUs and the idea in Judaism of the red string. And the idea that when you were a red string bracelet, it doesn’t just protect you from evil but can fall off when you have met your soulmate.

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

-Twenty Years Ago-

“And remember never take it off.” I looked at my mother as she tied the thin red string around my left wrist. “It will fall off when you have found the one.”  

I looked at the string. It was red, my mother had said as much but it just looked dark grey to me. “But won’t I see color.” I looked at her. It was a rare way of finding your soulmate, not seeing colors. From what I had overheard, no one in my family had ever been born this way.

She smiled and stroked my curls back. “Then wear it for protection from evil.” She kissed my forehead before getting up and going back to her craft room.

I looked at the string again and played with the small charms on it. One a Hamsa and the other a crescent moon. I looked at the knot and noticed it was made to grow with me but not slip off.

-Fifteen Years Ago-

It’s for protection from evil.  

I sat in the hospital playing with the charms. The doctors said I was fine. A few bruises from the seatbelt and a few scraps but nothing major. But no one wanted to tell me that my mom was gone, having suffered the blunt of the pick-up ramming into the side of our car.  

Drunk Driver

Dead before EMS

I sniffled and curled up hoping my dad would get here soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Present Day-

I twisted the charms on my bracelet as I waved down a taxi. I quickly climbed in before a familiar scent caught my attention.

“Now how is it you always find your way into my taxi, carino?”  Jake’s accent was a mix of the Spanish language he cursed in and the side-effect of growing up in New York.

“I wouldn’t know Jake, maybe just luck.” I smiled sitting back. “Home please.”  

He nodded his head, and I caught a glimpse of the green in his shirt. I chewed on my lower lip. Since meeting Jake, I could make out things people had told me were green and blue. Like the trees, the grass, my favorite dress apparently was a  mix between the two called teal.  

After first meeting Jake, I stood in front of my apartment and just stared at the sky. It was a clear light blue. I found myself grabbing anything I could tell the color of and putting it at the top of my drawers; in the side of the closest I opened the most.

I called my father in tears because it was the first time, I could see the true color of my own eyes. The colors everyone complimented.

But then it came crashing down when I realized Jake had to be my soulmate. But something was wrong. I could only see blue/green colors. I couldn’t see the other 80% of the rainbow. And the thin red bracelet my mother had placed on my wrist all those years ago was still snuggly set against my skin.

“What has you thinking so hard back there?” I shook my head and looked over to see him looking at me in the rearview mirror.

I chewed on my lower lip. “Have you ever heard of someone with the color blindness, only getting part of it back when they meet their soulmate?”  

Jake blinked at me before turning his sight back on the road. “Guess that explains why you don’t have marks on you.”  

I nodded. Jake didn’t talk about what marked him for his soulmate from what I had seen of his skin, I couldn’t see a name or symbol or even a phrase for first meetings.  

Having your soulmate’s name on you was the most common. Color blindness was the rarest, so rare there was little anyone who could teach me to help me find mine.

“You know you never told me what your mark is.” I said watching as his jaw ticked.

“You’ve never asked before.” His fingers twitched and I could tell he wanted to reach for a cigarette you usually smoke.  

“Well, I’m asking now.”  

Jake shook his head and sighed, “Color blindness.”  

“So, you couldn’t tell what color the dress was the day we meet?”  

He shook his head, “And to answer your first question; no, I don’t know what it means if you only get some color back.”  

I looked back out the window. “Maybe I have more than one soulmate.” Or maybe I’m messed up from the car crash. I squeezed my eyes shut at that thought.  

“It’s a possibility.” I felt the car slow as Jake stopped in front of my building.  

“Maybe.” I went to pull out the money to pay him before he put his hand over mine.

“Don’t worry about it Carino.” The corner of his mouth ticked up.

I smiled and kissed his cheek. “You are such a mensch.” I felt his eyes on me as I got out of the car and walked up the steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No Jake, there’s no possible way.” Marc said in the mindscape as Jake parked the taxi.

“Hey, how else do you want to explain us seeing green and blue shades, Spector?” Jake got out and walked towards the apartment building.  

After a few strings between contacts, Steven was able to get a research job which meant Marc and Jake got to pick home base.

Jake’s choice of New York had won.  And within the first month, he had met her.  

Curly hair and smooth skin. A smile that brought the stars for a day. And she brought him latkes over the holiday season, clocking him much easier than he clocked her.  

Steven wanted to meet her, but Jake’s protectiveness prevented it. He just didn’t know if it was to protect the system or her.  

“I think it would be quite nice to have a soulmate.” Steven mused.

Jake had to hand it to Steven, he made it seem like a dream come true. And even though Jake wasn’t as terrified or reserved as Marc, he was worried about putting her in danger.  

“No, it’s not nice. It’s a danger.” Even Jake could hear the self-doubt in Marc’s tone.  

“Doesn’t matter.” Jake said as he walked into the apartment. “No one but me, sees her.”  

Jake sighed as he took in all the green around the apartment. He truly never realized how many plants Steven had.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked down the street. Photo day was always interesting. It always amazed me how many people would pay for historical photos from New York. As I looked over the last few photos I had taken, I bumped shoulders with someone.  

“Oh, I’m so...” I looked at the person. “Sorry. Jake?”  

He looked like Jake, but he didn’t wear a flat cap or facial hair. His shoulders also seemed to curve a little.  

“oh uh...” He began to stumble over his words before looking around and pulling me away from the crowd.

“Jake, what is it?” I blinked a few times and realized the brink wall behind him was now something other than grey. When I placed my hand on his chest, I could see the red string exactly as it should be seen. “Jake?” I looked at him but found his attention had moved to the space around us.

“Bloody hell.” I stepped back from the man who looked like Jake.

“W-who are you?”  

He looked back at me and quickly took my hand. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” The British accent threw me but his thumb rubbed against my hand in soothing circles.

I took a deep breath and looked at him. “Please explain.”

He nodded and gulped. “My name is Steven Grant. Jake Lockley, the man you’ve been meeting is an alter.”

I blinked at him, “You have DID.”

He tilted his head, “How..?”

“I took psychology in college, stuck with it for a while. Didn’t understand why it interested me so much.” My voice got quiet as I took in the deep red of his shirt before setting my hand against his chest. “Guess I know why now.”  

Steven set his hands over mine. “Jake is very protective, he wouldn’t let... me meet you when I first asked.”  

I could tell the ‘me’ was supposed to be plural but for now I would let it go. I smiled lightly and nodded my head. “Yea I get that vibe from him.” I giggled a little as his thumb brushed against my red thread.  

“Could I buy you tea,” Steven smiled. “Or coffee. I know American’s prefer coffee; Jake certainly makes sure I remember.”  

I couldn’t help laughing. “I would like that very much.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven was completely different from Jake. He had thrown himself into being around me. He even took me on dates. Though Jake had started to loosen up, having me sit up front when he drove me places. Keeping his hand on my knee as he drove.  

Though I felt they were both still keeping something from me. Or someone. There were still colors I couldn’t make out, some were dull.  

It was when Jake finally invited me to their apartment that I realized there was someone else.

“So it’s not just you and Steven?” I asked looking over a notebook that had writing in it that didn’t match Steven’s clean script or Jake’s messy quick writing.  

“How long have you known?” I felt Jake behind me before his arms encircled my waist.

“Since I met Steven. He was hesitant on the ‘me’ part when he explained you didn’t want them to meet me.” I ran my finger over the writing. “He must be military. The way he writes.”

“He was, didn’t last long.” Jake’s grip tightened around me holding me against him.

“I can imagine.” I closed the journal and turned in Jake’s arms. “I would really like to meet him.”

“That last little bit of color bothering you as well?”  

I nodded my head and buried my face into his chest. “It’s so annoying.”

Jake chuckled and kissed my head. “Steven and I will talk with him later and see if we can convince him.”

“Okay.” I looked up at him, “Can I know his name?”

“Marc. Marc Spector.”

#sammi writes #Jake lockley x jewish!reader #Steven Grant x Jewish!reader #marc spector #soulmate au #moon knight au #moon knight fic #oscar isaac characters #marvel fanfic #jewish reader #SJ writes #moon knight x jewish!reader

[milkymoon2483]

Eyes On Me

Push & Pull - Episode 5 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Previous episode | Series Masterlist

OH MY GOD. This took forever and drained my soul and was promptly nicknamed “the cursed porn”, and now it’s done. You have been warned. 

Summary: You’re invited to dinner at Dobora’s to give you a proper send off to your last semester in college. Frank will not look at you, he has gone cold and distant in fear that someone might figure out what’s going on between the two of you, causing you to have doubts of your own.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), SMUT WITH ALL CAPS THIS IS THE CORNIEST CORN I HAVE EVER WRITTEN MAAM, P in V, Finger in ass, blowjob, and a whole bunch of angst and abandonment issues.

WC: ~4800 cuz of all the smutses

Thank you my lovelies.

@romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid @theonewheresheindulges @midnightswithdearkatytspb

Eyes on me

There was a quick change in your expression as you were walking towards Frank's truck. He anticipated it, but it did not prevent the sting of it. 

You stepped out of your front door with a sweet excited smile, and he watched as the corners of your berry coloured mouth dropped and eyes widened with surprise the moment you realized your cousins were sitting in the car with him. He had sent you a text to warn you but you seemed to have missed it. Now he had to witness your disappointment first hand.

Deborah invited you both to dinner with her and the boys before you were due to return to school, a proper send off and a reason to get together under happier circumstances. She asked Frank if he could give Jacob and his younger brother Adam a ride back to her place, and he happily agreed before realizing that your private drive would not be so private anymore. 

Frank was a simple man, and the moment he allowed himself to look at you the way he wanted to, he was unable to stop. The cleavage of your dress underneath your coat, and the deep berry of your lips drew his attention instantly. 

His breath hitched for a second when you climbed into his truck, trying your best to act 'normal' as you sat next to Adam in the back. Frank wished you could sit next to him. Your scent was fresh and sweet, hair still damp from the shower, bringing back memories that caused his cock to twitch with interest.

The drive was mostly silent, He made a point to keep his eyes strictly on the road, only glancing in the back mirror once…or twice. 

You pulled your phone out of your purse and that’s when you saw it.

You understood why he would not look at you, why he barely returned your quick "hey" as you entered the car and hasn't said a word to you since. You both knew you'd have to be careful around your family, and there was no need to talk about it as the silent agreement seemed obvious. You wondered if anyone would see something nonetheless. 

18:06 Frank

Deb asked me to pick up Jacob and Adam too.

Straight to the point. Not even a sad little emoji.

This thing between the two of you was still fragile and undefined, so just for that night you'd have to put it aside and let it be. You were surprised that the dull ache that was always present when you were around him was still there. There was still something intangible about him, not for you to discover. 

He sat across the table from you but his eyes avoided you, as if looking at you would turn him into stone.

Was he afraid that what you shared would be written all over his face as soon as he did?

You were afraid of it too, but found it harder to control yourself, sneaking cautious looks, only to find his eyes pointing elsewhere.

The air of uncertainty hovered heavily above you, raising question mark after question mark. Your thoughts raced, worrying that his doubts were far from doused. Whatever stopped him all those times must've still haunted him. Everything changed since then, but the basic facts remained the same. You still needed to hide this from everyone else.

You wished you could talk to him, although you weren’t sure what you’d say. He didn’t owe you anything, no explanations, no excuses. You couldn’t help but ask yourself which version of him will you encounter the next time you're alone.

Frank did his best to keep his face neutral and disinterested, but he was amazed again, at how sharp and motivated you are. You spoke with confidence, poise, like you had everything figured out. When he tried to remember himself at that age, he had no idea what he was doing, not even a clue. 

Most of dinner was spent in pleasant conversation. Deborah was somehow able to lighten everyone's mood, set aside the passing of your father to talk about future plans and hopes. 

You spoke about college and your plans for after. You were hoping that your GPA would allow you to continue to a masters in psychology, which would eventually allow you to practice. 

You've recited this 'speech' many times during the shiva, repeating it to every nosy relative and family friend, but this time Frank was listening. You secretly hoped he'd be impressed, that you sounded mature and goal driven and responsible.

She's so young He was reminded again.

*********

He was constantly acutely aware of you, willing his eyes to focus on anything else, training his features, controlling his movements. It felt like a never-ending game of poker he was bound to lose. 

You were making it impossible. Licking that spoon, tossing your hair to the side, exposing your neck, taunting him with each move you made. It would have been considered cruel if you were doing it on purpose. 

Closing the bathroom door behind yourself, you let out a breathy sigh of relief, finally not having to school your expression and be hyper aware of your every word. Is this what family dinners are going to look like from now on, always having to navigate the minefield that is Frank Castle? 

You missed his smile, his genuine softness that peeked through his exterior when he was playful and relaxed, the creases around his eyes and the warmth he radiated when he knew you were the only one able to see him.

"You got a little bit of 'shmutz' there" you remarked playfully as you were eating french toast in your dad's kitchen, still not fully clothed after fucking on the table.

You gingerly wiped the maple syrup with your finger and put it in your mouth. 

"That's some Jewish flirtin' " he said and chuckled warmly.

Was that just a small glimpse you got before he was inevitably going to take it all away?

You wondered if that memory will turn sour, like many others before it, like a word you keep repeating in your head until it loses its meaning.

You took a deep breath before heading back outside, back to his avoidant eyes and blank expression. 

You stepped out into the corridor, about to head back into the living room, when you almost collided with his broad frame. Startled, you gasped, laying a hand on his chest. He was warm and solid.

“Sorry” you muttered.

********

Frank's features softened, as his gaze lingered from your eyes to your lips.

“S’ok” he replied, with the faintest little smirk, before going into the bathroom and closing the door behind himself. 

Dinner was finally over, pleasantries all exchanged, and the evening was drawing to a much anticipated end.

Relief and doubt mixed in your belly as you climbed into Frank’s truck at the end of the night. He began the silent drive back and you opted to look out of the window, your vision blurred, mesmerized by the fleeting light of each lamp post you passed. You allowed the rhythm to hypnotize you, to deflect your consciousness away from his gravitational pull. 

“You ok?” the grave voice asked, drawing you right back.

“Mhm” you smiled back faintly, fighting the need to turn your head towards him.

The both of you remained quiet, and you wondered if fucking him will always be easier than talking to him. Somehow being naked in front of him seemed less vulnerable than asking him the questions you wanted to. You dreaded his reply, it was scarier than not knowing.

You wished your brain would stop, for one fucking moment. But the volume of your insistent internal dialogue only seemed to increase.

Will he touch me?

Will he invite me back to his place?

Will he say it was all a mistake and never speak to me about it again?

SHUT UP.

And then his heavy palm rested on your thigh. It’s warmth soothing and quieting the noise.

“Thanks for the ride, have a good night” you said sheepishly as you stood next to him in his driveway. 

The quick realization of just how much trouble you're in with this man came soon after.

Yes you’ve fucked, but you were still just as desperate for him.

Fuck, I wish he would sto..

“And where do you think you’re goin'?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity

“I…um…Did you want me to come in?” Your voice was even quieter than before.

“Only if you wanna.." He sounded almost surprised that it wasn’t obvious.

“I do” you bit back a smile of relief.

You sat on the couch next to him, keeping your hands in your lap, your mouth open as if you wanted to speak, but no words were coming out, mouth dry and pulse thumping. 

"You nervous Han?"

The question took you by surprise, was it really that obvious? 

"Yeah" you nodded, heat rising to your cheeks.

"I'm makin' you nervous?" he tilted his head. Raising his brows in surprise.

"All the time" you chuckled, taken aback by your own honesty.

His hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb gently grazing your mouth. You averted your gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be nervous, s’ok baby” 

He leaned closer now, so close you could feel his breath on your face, and warmth spread like wildfire from your chest to your abdomen and settled between your thighs.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, almost whispering.

You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut.

He was almost as gentle as the first time you kissed, careful strokes, deepening slowly. You whimpered with relief, allowing his tongue access into your mouth.

Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck as he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, flush against his big solid frame.

It overwhelmed you, the immediate effect of his proximity, his kiss.

Your body responded instantaneously, effortlessly, arousal gathering between your thighs, heat crawling under your skin. 

This time you didn’t fight the urge to straddle his hips. You settled in his lap and you both let out a soft moan when you rubbed against his clothed cock, the seam of his jeans pressing exquisitely onto your core. You deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth, as his palms caressed your legs, skimming past the edge of your dress and sliding towards your center.

His thumbs grazed the crease of your belly, gently stroking the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs through the sheer fabric of your tights. 

“waited all fucking night for this baby” he rasped, cascading open mouthed kisses down your neck.

The contrast between your adorable shyness and the ease with which you melted against him the moment he’d touch you never failed to make him hard.

I’ve waited for fuckign years.

You pulled your dress over your head, anxious to feel his skin on yours. He did not resist when you bunched his sweater in your hands and began pulling it off as well, taking the t-shirt off with it. 

Your fingers skimmed the broadness of his shoulders and chest as he pulled back to look at you. Sliding his palms from your neck down the soft slope of your shoulders, gently pulling down the straps of your bra. He unclasped it with one motion, letting your breast spill out before tossing it into the pile on the floor with the rest of your clothes.

Messy hair, hooded eyes and parted lips. Beautiful and soft and pliant in his arms, Frank's eyes raked you, a gaze so intense it felt as if he was making up for all the moments he couldn’t look at you. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous” He rasped, running hungry palms from your neck down to your breasts, before latching on with his mouth. 

A desperate want began building in your core, a need to taste him, to please him. You took his left hand and drew it closer to your lips. He watched through hooded lids as you slid his index and middle fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your slippery tongue around them. You bobbed your head, locking eyes with him and pumping the fingers in and out. He understood your silent request but wanted to hear you say it.

“Tell me what you need baby” 

You squirmed, drawing his fingers deeper. He smirked and released them from your lips with a pop.

“I…I..want you in my mouth” you mumbled quickly, averting your eyes down.

“Use your words” He commanded, albeit gently.

He could see you hesitating, shyness coloring your cheeks red. 

You were precious, so fucking sweet, and it made him impossibly harder.

“Come on now baby, whatta you need?”

There was a pause of silence, and you couldn't decipher the look in his eyes before he spoke.

”Get on your knees honey”

“Hands”. He commanded

You gulped and settled on the floor in front of him, knees on the throw pillow, heart pounding faster as you noticed a shift in Frank. A dominance flashed across his features, asking you to submit.

He stood tall above you and began slowly unclasping the buckle of his belt, pulling it out of the loops in one smooth motion that made your mouth water and your pussy throb.

It was barely tight enough, but you nodded.

You lifted your hands towards him and he carefully held both in one palm, wrapping the belt around them with the other. He gave you a reassuring look, pulling through the loop and tightening the brown leather around your wrists.

“You tell me if it’s too tight”

“If you say stop, we stop right away. Ok baby?” 

Watching him take control put you at ease, you trusted him to take you apart and put you back together again, gently and meticulously.

“OK” you replied eagerly.

You have decided, long before he ever touched you, that you will let him do anything to you, that you’d surrender fully and completely. 

"You done this before, baby?" He asked, eyes glazed with hunger.

Frank moved slowly, hiding the urgency that pulsed under his skin with the thought of your sweet mouth wrapped around his cock. He wanted to see you squirm with anticipation, maybe he wanted to hear you beg for it.

He opened the zipper of his jeans, leisurely pulling them down his legs. You gulped at the sight of his muscular thighs flexing. The outline of his hard cock pressed tightly against the thin fabric his boxer briefs, making your core clench. 

His palm came up to gently stroke your hair, as if giving you permission, and you instinctively nuzzled your cheek onto the thick length of him, testing Frank’s patience. You pressed your lips against him, through the thin fabric, following the outline of his perfect curve, drunk on him before even having a taste. He was warm and solid, pulsating with heat and want, and it made your mouth water.

You have, but it seemed that none of the other times even mattered, or counted. You bit your bottom lip and shook your head in mock innocence. 

"Fuck" he muttred, voice breathy and low, and you knew that's what he wanted to hear. As he pulled down his boxers, allowing his heavy length to spring free.

Quiet moans and gasps escaped his lips, and you listened intently to every strangled breath.

Frank carefully cupped the back of your head, letting his fingers entangle in your hair before gently pulling it back, exposing your delicate neck. He met no resistance and relished in your compliance, so eager to please him. He held the base of his cock with his other hand, slowly sliding the fat tip into your mouth, as the salty taste of precum hit your tongue. You let him in until he hit the back of your throat before wrapping your lips around him and gently sucking the heavy shaft.

Frank shuddered above you, exhaling sharply. 

He began to move slowly, eyes rolling back in pleasure, pushing his length deeper with each thrust. You bobbed your head to meet his movements, letting him set the pace.

״Eyes on me” he ordered, and you obeyed, looking at him through your lashes. His nostrils flared and jaw clenched as he watched his cock slide between your plush lips. 

“Atta girl, just like that..” he praised you in a soft voice, making you clench over nothing.

You could feel your arousal drip and pool in your center, soaking the fabric of your panties and tights, making you squeeze your thighs together. It was almost embarrassing, the way your body was set ablaze by the words of adoration spilling from his lips.

“Sweet girl" He caressed your face, rubbing his thumb on your aching jaw in soothing motions, while slowly fucking his cock into your mouth.

It was tender, and filthy, and you welcomed the pain of it all. The throb in your core that was getting unbearable, the ache in your legs folded beneath you, the strain on your jaw, the gag reflex that made tears sting the corners of your eyes, every bit of you that hurt with the effort. 

"Such a good girl..fuck..m’gonna cum in your pretty mouth" His voice was strained as his tempo intensified, eyes never leaving you. 

Frank's gaze was trained on your mouth, how his cock glistened with your spit, the wet streaks on your cheeks. Your little moans and gagging noises that he thought would make him slow down or stop, they were spurring him on, turning him almost cruel. 

You hollowed out your cheeks, making him stifle a loud moan. "Just like that..fuck just like that baby..fuh..shit..." he sensed the pressure build rapidly, each thrust bringing him closer to his release. Your mouth was sweet and warm and soft and the mere thought of being the first one to fuck it sent him over the edge. 

You could feel him twitch before he growled, spilling onto your tongue. The salty bitterness made you gag around him as his thrusts slowed down. 

He pulled out slowly, still half hard, dripping a mixture of cum and spit onto your bare tits. 

“You ok baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows in genuine concern. He reached out his hand, helping you stand back up on shaky legs.

"Swallow honey" he ordered again, his voice hoarse and wrecked.

He hummed in approval when you obeyed, still on your knees for him. 

“Yeah” you returned a dazed smile, pulling him back into your game.

“You did so good” His voice was lower now.

He swiped his pointer finger through a drop of cum on your chest, and you opened eagerly, sucking it dry.

“Now,” he continued, kissing your cheek tenderly and trailing his lips down your jaw

“You wanna stop or go on? Hm?” his voice dropped lower still, as he continued peppering kisses on your neck.

Frank knew how he wanted to play with you, what he wanted to pull out of you.

“Go on…I wanna go on” You replied ,as if you had any choice, as if you could ignore the painful throbbing of your cunt, the mess in your panties.

“C’mere” He took your tied hands, leading you to the side of the couch, carefully bending you over the armrest.

“That feel ok?” 

You managed only to reply with a breathless “mhm” 

He chuckled at your desperate wiggles, continuing his unhurried strokes.

He took a moment to admire you, your bare top bent over on the sofa where he laid a cushion for you, sheer black tights stretching over your ass, revealing a pair of lace panties.

He stood behind you, finger gently tracing the lace beneath the nylon, leaving fire in its trail. Your breaths were heavier now, and a small whine escaped you as it torturously dragged between your asscheeks towards your pussy.

“Please, Frank” your voice shook. 

“Please what baby?” He taunted

“Touch me, please” You begged now, desperate to ease the ache between your thighs.

He cupped you through the fabric, running his thumb on your clothed core, you were soaked.

“Like that? hm?”

Your breath was ragged, small whines escaped your mouth as you tried to rock your hips against his hand.

A string of little moans were your only response. 

“More..” you finally added. His touch was deliberate, slow circles that did nothing more than drive you mad.

Gliding both palms towards your waist, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your tights, wiggling and dragging them down with your panties. 

When the fabric slid past the curve of your ass he stopped, admiring the exposed skin, smooth and supple, the way that the elastic dug into the meat of your upper thighs, accentuating the plumpness.

Two thick digits slid between your thighs, you were dripping, and Frank relished at the squelching sound when he gently parted your folds and spread your juices. His touch was precise, feather light, and painfully slow. 

His cock began to stir again.

His fingers glided over the expanse of the soft flesh, before repeating the slow, agonizing trail from your tailbone to your core, making you tremble. 

“You hear that honey, how wet you are for me?” 

You whimpered, as he moved at a snail’s pace, sliding from your entrance to your clit and back. The pressure increased slightly but the pace was just as slow.

“Fuhhh..fuck…me.” your attempt to speak nearly failed.

“You need to be fucked?” his voice was almost sympathetic.

“Ye..hh” you quivered.

“Like this honey?” He pumped one finger in and out, slowly, with an obscene squelch.  

“Fuck..Please!” You sobbed softly

“Shhh..I know baby, I know…just a lil' more” He replied.

You mewled as he drew his fingers back and parted your cheeks, sliding his heavy length in between your thighs, rubbing against the slick puffy folds, making you drip and bringing you both to the brink. 

You shook, tip-toes barely gripping the carpet, holding on for dear life. 

You shuddered as he dipped his cock into your core,carefully stretching and filling you to the brim. 

Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme…

Tears stung your eyes as the throbbing in your cunt became unbearable. Every nerve ending screaming and begging for the emptiness to be filled. Your quiet little sobs filled the room and Frank finally decided to show you mercy.

The sting of it made you battle between the need to adjust to him and need to be fucked within the edge of your life. 

He tutted “Don’t you move, you hear me?” 

"Fuckin' tight" he cursed under his breath.

He set an unhurried pace and you moved your hips to meet his deep thrusts, once, twice, before a sharp swat landed on your right buttcheek.

“Uhu..” You would obey any instructions just to keep him going 

He was tainting you, ruining you. He did not find it in himself to regret that. So he thrust deeper, fingers digging into the plush expanse of your ass, fucking himself into your dripping cunt. 

“You gonna be good now. Take it like a good girl.”

He felt you clench at the words and he smirked to himself, thrusting deeper, addicted to the flutter of your pussy around him.

Shame trickled into his bloodstream again, it always did when it came to you. He let it flow, let it mix with his desire and need, let himself get drunk on it. 

"You like it when I call you that? Hm? Like it when I fuck your little pussy and tell you what a good girl youre bein'?" 

Your response was only a little whimper, but you clenched even harder, squeezing him tightly 

"Answer me baby" 

"I..fucking..love it"

Your climax built rapidly, the familiar coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter. Waves of pleasure coursed through your abdomen, shattering against your core, pushing you off the edge of the cliff. You wailed, walls fluttering around his girth, gripping him like a vice.

"There y'go baby..just like that.." Frank praised you through your high, pulling the remnants of your orgasm out of you as the waves gently subsided.

Your head was heavy and limbs numb, body melting until you couldn’t tell which part of you was solid and which was liquid.

“Shh…shhh s’ok babygirl” He stroked you, laying a gentle kiss on your back as the sound of your heavy breaths filled the room. He slowed down, barely moving his hips, before pulling out his length, still dripping with your arousal. 

“Frank, I've never…umm” your voice is hoarse and breathy

Knowing you’d still be too sensitive, he dipped a cautious finger in, gathering your slick and smearing it up towards the cleft of your ass, massaging it into the tight rim. The sensation was foreign but pleasurable, as he spread your wetness, applying a little more pressure with every slick slide of his digit.

Entranced, still pulsating with your release, you began bucking your hips against his hand.

“S'ok baby, I’ll be nice n’ slow, just my finger” 

Ever so slowly he began pushing the tip of his index past the tight ring, and the slight sting of it made you hiss.

“You wanna stop honey?”

“Uh-uh..no” you muttered. Slowly getting accustomed to the intrusion, rutting against him as he sank his digit down to it’s base. 

When he was fully sheathed in, he lined his cock against your entrance, and pushed in with one smooth motion.

“uhh..fuuuuccckk” you moaned, impossibly full. 

Frank was quiet now, entranced by the way your bodies were connected, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, the little whines and whimpers that came with every thrust into your tight heat.

He moved his cock and his finger in tandem, pacing himself as much as he could, cursing under his breath.

“Good girl… baby… lettin’ me fuck both your pretty holes” He slurred

The overstimulation subsided in moments, and you could feel the shot of arousal, sharp and unforgiving, travel from your ears to your core.

It burned, but only made you want more, willing to be fully used, consumed by him. You were reduced into a quivering mess, crying for him to go harder. He didn't stop you from moving this time, as you instinctively matched his pace, encouraging him deeper.

You were slumped on the pillow, breathless and boneless. He pulled out carefully, watching his release spill onto the bunched up fabric of your panties and tights, etching the depraved sight into his mind. It made him wish he could fuck you all over again.

His impeccable control was rapidly wavering and he began to speed up, his movements becoming rougher and sloppier, crashing his hips into your ass at a brutal pace. Your second orgasm came abruptly and tore an animalistic sound from your chest, pushing Frank over the edge. He spilled inside of you with a guttural moan, long and lowd. The waves of pleasure washing over him again and again as he pulsed inside of you, flooding you with warmth.

**********************

The moans and pleas were replaced by silence, it was a soft, almost pleasant one. Endorphins still buzzed in your bloodstream, and you tried to focus on them instead of the demons that lurked around the peripherals of your mind, awaiting their turn.

Frank’s chest rose and fell beneath you, his breaths deep and steady as sleep was claiming him. You tried closing your eyes, tried matching your breaths with his, but the weight of everything unsaid felt heavy on your chest, threatening to burst. 

More questions, always more fucking questions, ones you felt would be so hard to answer even if you could ask them. You knew you’d be gone by morning, for months, and they’d be left unanswered.

When you finally decided to speak you hoped he’d already be asleep, as if whispering your confessions to yourself would help…

"I don't know what this is, what we are, but I'm gonna miss you" you mumbled, as quietly as possible, hoping to god he didn’t actually hear you.

"Gon' miss you too, baby” He replied in a hushed tone. 

Shit.

Hours later, your eyes stung with lack of sleep. You kept drifting in and out of slumber throughout the night, unable to let yourself relax fully in his presence. You finally gave up as the dim light of dawn crept through the windows and carefully peeled back the comforter, climbing out of the warm bed.

Frank was snoring softly, laying on his belly, face smushed into the pillow he was grabbing. You laid a cautious hand on his back, running your fingers on the smooth expanse of his shoulder blades, the exposed skin cool to the touch.

FIN. 

“Goodbye Frank” you whispered, closing the door behind you.

#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #jon bernthal #jewish representation #jewish reader #x plus size reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #the punisher

[unhonest-iago]

Shanah Tovah

Corpse had the dates for all the Jewish holidays circled on his paper calendar, remembering that they changed every year. It was something y/n had mentioned once or twice in casual conversation. Corpse had picked up bread making as a new hobby, needing something to do when he couldn't come up with any new songs or music video concepts. Y/n could hear the clatter from their apartment next door, the walls unfortunately thin. And the kitchens even tinier to the point you could barely call them kitchens. Joking through the walls as y/n laughed at his one sided fights with tin foil.

Corpse decided to go with a three strand braid, not wanting to overdo it with his fibromyalgia. Already feeling a pins and needles sensation in a few of his fingers. The risen dough sat on his counter top, divided into three pieces. Rolling them into more a tube shape like you would clay for a coil pot. Corpse double checked the measurements, wanting to be sure it'd fit in his pan. Hands lightly shaking, quickly lacing the strands together. Still neat enough for his liking.

Sitting on the counter as he waited for the timer to ding, not having the energy to do much else. Y/n, picking up the smell of freshly baked bread assumed Corpse was trying a new recipe that he'd ultimately fuck up and curse up a storm about. Confused when they heard a knock on the door. Looking in the peep hole, seeing Corpse stood at their door. 'Hey Corpse, what this all about?'

'Heard it was a holiday for you and figured I'd surprise you. Swear on my life I didn't mess it up, tried it a dozen times just to make sure.' Rambling a little before handing it to them. Looking down, the poppy seeds staring back at them. 'Oh, jar of honey as well.'

Y/n thought of what they had planned for the day, or lack thereof. Shifting from foot to foot as they made up their mind. 'Wanna come in?'

#iago writes #holidays w/ corpse #x reader #x gn reader #corpse husband #corpse husband x gn reader #corpse husband x reader #rosh hashanah #jewish reader #x jewish reader #corpse husband x jewish reader

[imarvelatthestars]

Zise: Emet

Notes: This takes place during the training sequence of X-Men: First Class and I chose to take some liberties with the plot, mostly keeping Darwin alive and not pairing Mystique and Erik together. I struggled to think of a way to weaponize the reader's plant powers like the other mutants are able to do when it finally came to me. I think you'll enjoy the answer I came up with.

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr x Jewish!Reader

Warnings: feminine language used to refer to reader, references to the Shoah & the camps

Part 1

Four days of hard work and all you had to show for it was a terrace covered in blossoms and ivy, and a literal thorn in your side from when you got so angry with yourself that the thorn bush you'd been growing exploded and half impaled you. You were tired, you were sore, and even though everyone else was experiencing their own struggles, you felt wildly out of your league and out of place among them. Between Darwin's ability to adapt to literally anything, Alex's energy blasts, Raven's shapeshifting, and Erik's metal manipulation, you felt like a child dwarfed by all the greatness surrounding her.

"I don't think I should stay here any longer," you finally tell Charles that night.

He starts out of his seat and you can see it in his eyes that he's ready to talk you out of it, but you don't care to hear it. Because you know you're right.

"I don't belong, Charles. My abilities aren't of any use to you or your cause. What am I supposed to do, throw daisies at Shaw and hope that scares him off?"

"You simply haven't unlocked your deepest potential yet-."

"I know I'm strong, Charles, I know I'm capable. That's not the problem. It's the fact that my abilities are completely useless in this war." You fix him with your gaze and feel a bit of calm wash over you when he doesn't fight you again. "You came to me for help, but what help can I offer when the most threatening thing I can conjure are some brambles? I mean, the rest of you have the most amazing powers I've ever seen! Abilities that can do real damage in a fight."

He rubs a finger over his lower lip as he considers you. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

"I just... I think it would be best for me to go so the rest of you can focus."

Charles thinks for a moment later before he finally nods. "Perhaps it would help you to know exactly who it is we're fighting." You start to protest when he holds up a hand. He stands, gaze focused solely on you as if you're a wild, cornered animal. "I haven't told you the whole truth about who Shaw is, or who he was some years ago, because it wasn't my place to say. But before you leave, I think you should speak with Erik. Ask him about Shaw and then you can decide what you should do. Does that sound agreeable?"

You don't tell him that your bags are already packed, but you figure he probably already knows. "Okay," you sigh. "Tomorrow then."

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

The sun is barely clearing the horizon when you wake. You say modah ani and the rest of your morning prayers, shower, and put on one of your more plain dresses with a pair of tights instead of your workout wear. You're not sure that you'll be staying long enough for Charles' exercises today and you want to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, before anyone can stop you.

Erik is waiting for you in the terrace, dressed in his sweatpants and sweater. He seems entranced by what remains of your work from yesterday - ivy and brambles tightly intertwined as they swallow everything in their path, from the statues and banister to nearly half the wall of Charles' house. The sight of him takes you by surprise, even though it shouldn't have, and a tiny rosebush sprouts by your foot, immediately growing about a foot tall and covered in a dozen blooms. The sound of the earth shifting and the bush sprouting to life draws Erik's attention, and when he turns, you feel his eyes pierce right to your heart.

"Hello," he whispers.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat. "Hello."

The wind stirs your hair and the strings on Erik's sweater. You're not sure what else to say. He's been your greatest comfort since you left home, the only other Jew in a sea of goyim, your one lifeline to anything familiar, and he's been a good friend. It hurts that you'll have to leave him and you hope he won't think poorly of you in your absence.

"Charles said you're leaving." Something burns behind his irises then, something so dark and fierce that you can almost feel its heat from across the terrace. "You're choosing to abandon us."

And God, does the accusation sting. "No, that's not it, Erik, I swear. I just, I don't feel that I should be here anymore. My abilities-."

"Could help us take down Shaw. Don't you see that? Don't you see what you're capable of?"

You follow the line of his arm as it points to the brambles along the wall. "It's not a question of what I'm capable of. I know I'm capable. But you were right, Erik. I don't fit in here. Not because I'm frum, but because my abilities are nothing compared to what the rest of you can do. I can't influence people's minds or fly or destroy weapons with a sonic blast. I can grow flowers and little thorn bushes. What good is that against a man like Shaw?"

Erik jerks as if he's been hit. His chest caves in on itself, his jaw goes stiff, and he turns his face away until you can only see the back of his head and the ragged heaving of his chest. And you can't help feeling angry that no one seems to be listening to you. You won't be any help on the battlefield, you'll just be the scared woman that watched Shaw and Azazel take Angel and almost kill Darwin all over again. And your little brambles and rose thorns won't be any good then.

Then you remember what Charles told you last night: ask about Shaw. So you do. And you watch Erik transform into something you've never seen before.

"His real name is Klaus Schmidt. We met at Auschwitz." His Adam's apple bobs and his voice trembles as the world crumbles down around you. "When he murdered my mother and abused my powers for his own enjoyment."

You can hear your blood rushing through your veins, can hear your heartbeat, can feel it all the way in toes as your heart threatens to hammer through your chest. Erik was at Auschwitz. Erik was in the camps. Erik survived the Shoah. It's like a nightmare you can't wake up from because you've heard the stories from other survivors on Yom HaShoah, you remember the radio broadcasts during the war when you were just a toddler, how they spoke of bombings and ghettos and Kristallnacht while you sat safe in the confines of your four walls and continued going to shul each week with your parents. Untouched by the horrors of the war, sheltered from Hitler's tyrannical reach by the simple fact that your family had left their shtetl a decade before his rise to power.

"He walked away from it all unscathed, unhindered. Because he could. Because no one held him accountable." There was that dark ferocity, the one you'd seen in Erik's eyes only twice before, now seeping into his voice until it was almost unrecognizable. You could hear the German-Yiddish tint of his accent more now than ever before, it was thick like blood and ash in your ears. "But I will."

What can you possibly say now? You'd joined Division X to stop Shaw from initiating World War III and murdering the whole of humanity, and perhaps you'd also joined because you finally knew you weren't the only one with abilities you couldn't explain or understand. And you had planned to leave because you knew you couldn't measure up to what Erik and Charles needed of you, but... Shaw was a Nazi. He took part in the brutal massacring of your people, he oversaw executions and gas chambers and Hashem only knew what else, and he wanted to take what he'd learned in the camps and apply it to all the non-mutants of the world? Eradicate them like he'd tried to eradicate the Jews? If he succeeded, then for all you knew, the only ones left alive would be himself, his henchmen, and Division X. And that you simply couldn't abide by. You would rather die in the heat of battle, useless and broken but still fighting, than stand back and let Shaw destroy what remained of your people.

You can still hear Erik somewhere in the back of your mind, but it's impossible to make out the words over the noise of your fury. You feel sick to your stomach and righteously angry. You feel as if you could take on Shaw yourself this very instant, wrap a vine around his neck until he stops breathing and then your people will be safe, then there will be justice for Erik and all the other innocents once at Shaw's mercy.

Something pulls hard at your arm and you come to. You hadn't even realized that you were literally seeing red until your vision returns to normal and the rage fades from your eyes. Now all you can see is Erik, tall and lithe and frantic as he shakes your arm. You frown, recoiling from his sudden proximity and start to back away when your heel catches on something and you drop like a stone. Erik catches your hands as you hit the ground. You're not sure if it's him or the impact that winds you, but you're back on your feet a moment later and he puts his hands on your shoulders. It's uncomfortable, it's strange, it's almost nice, and it would certainly make your mother scold you if she could see you now, but then he turns you around and you see what it is you've tripped over.

Erik breathes a laugh into your ear and you can feel it warm your skin. "I do believe you've disproved your own argument, my dear."

The golem that stands before you is massive, more comparable to a boulder than a human. Its domed head looms at least a meter above yours, its shoulders broad and its arms thicker than tree trunks. Two hollow eye sockets, a nose, and a faint line of Hebrew lettering form its stony face. And perhaps even more startling than its mere existence is the fact that this golem seems to be alive, crafted from a shifting mass of rock, brambles, and vines.

You blindly seek out Erik's hand, unable to tear your gaze from the golem. His fingers squeeze around yours and send a thrill down your spine. Perhaps you ought to stay after all.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #magneto #x-men #marvel #jewish reader #my love of glammim knows no bounds. i always end up putting a golem in like every story i do

[bts-hyperfixation]

Stuck

A quick new years piece dedicated to my Beta and friend @stealth-liberal

Seokjin x gender neutral Jewish reader

Warning: Jin in women's underwear

"My love? Where are you?" You call out into the dorm. 

You'd passed the other members on your way in, each claiming not to have seen Jin all day, but they were certain he was somewhere in the building. You had decided to surprise him since he hadn't been able to come home for the last couple of days since promotions started up again. 

"Y/N?" Jin's voice sounded far away.

You followed it into his room only to find it empty.

"Marco!" You yelled.

"Polo..." A very sad-sounding Jin responded from the closed closet. 

Confused, you make your way over and pull at the handles, to no avail. To your knowledge, there has never been a lock on the walk-in wardrobe before now... A painfully obvious flaw when Jimin had walked in on you and Jin not long after you had started dating... You tug harder and the door budges slightly, only to be promptly shut again.

"JIinnie... Are you holding the door closed?" You raise an eyebrow and tap your foot, waiting for his excuse.

"Maybe."

One more tug and you give up on trying to get in. You instead walk back a few paces and sit on the floor to wait for him to stop being stupid.

"And why is that?" you sigh, looking up at the door.

"Because I don't want you to see how I look right now."

"Don't be absurd Jin, what could you possibly be wearing or doing that you don't want me to see you in?"

Slowly the door opens revealing your boyfriend to you in all his glory. For some reason, he has wiggled his way into a very skimpy pair of lavender panties, with matching bralette, and garters. Not forgetting the half rolled down stockings. You take your time drinking him in. Your eyes rove down his body leaving not a single patch of his skin untouched by your gaze as he shuffles uncomfortably. 

When you don't immediately say anything, he moves to close the door again. You kick your leg out just in time to stop him from shutting himself away. The bruise that was sure to arise was definitely worth it. 

"Ahavah, if you don't stop staring at me I'll cry." Jin whines.

You continue to look on anyway. Some how, in your many years together, you had never thought to put Jin in women's  underwear, but you were definitely regretting it now. 

The lavender lace complimented his smooth tan skin in the most perfect way. The delicate straps of the bralet accentuated his already broad shoulders, making him look both strong a delicate. And the garters created a little line of chub beneath them from being so tight that you were just aching to bite.

"Would it be wrong if I wanted you to cry? just a little?" You ask coyly "Although not about the way you look... never about the way you look my beautiful little idol." 

You stand and move to him. Reaching for the waistband of his panties and twisting it in your fingers. You allow the elastic to flick back against his skin and kiss him on the nose.

"What if I wanted you to cry from me giving you the same amount of pleasure seeing you in this lingerie has given me?"

You reach up to remove unclasp the bralet, only to find one of the hooks trapped in the lace, twisted in to the fabric with little hope of release. You realise then why no one had seen Jin all day.

"How long have you been trapped in this bra?" You ask, turning off the horny to spin him around and help him out.

"Since this morning." He admits, clearly ashamed. "I would've ripped it but I really like this one.

You decide to let that statement sit while you helped him. You could revisit his apparent lingerie collection once he was free. Although the thought wouldn't escape your brain completely. 

Taking great care, you the exact parts of the pattern that are entangled with the hook and follow each one with as much focus as a brain surgeon. It doesn't take long for you to wrestle the metal free. You kiss along his shoulders as you finish and he turns around to face you.

"Thank you." He kisses your forehead and then moves to remove the entire set so he could get dressed properly. It's only as he is rolling down the garters, the real question springs to mind.

"Jin?"

"Hmm?"

"If only the bralet was stuck, why are you still in the panties?"

I'm alone for new years! send me an ask to keep me company! Let me know what you are doing this year!

#bts fic #jewish reader #jin fic #jin smut #jin fluff #seokjin fic #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff

[thejewitches]

Need a Jewish sensitivity reader, particularly for fantasy?

With a degree in English (with a specialization in fiction) and a wealth of knowledge on antisemitism (including topics like historic antisemitism, blood libel, and mythologizing of Jews), we’re happy to consult and provide feedback.

Feel free to reach out via our website! Feel free to send this to your author friends.

Jewitches.com

#jewish #jewitches #judaism #jumblr #jewitch #jewish magic #witchy #fiction #authors #sensitivity reader #editing #research #fantasy fiction #author

[loelysian]

marmoris

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

pairing: namor × reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: what happens when nakia takes a straggling passenger from talokan on her mission to retrieve shuri and riri to bring them back to wakanda—that passenger being the queen of talokan.

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you or there is an error in regard to lore (i tried my best to recreate certain scenes from the movie but i've only seen it once). please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. i would also like to mention that this was posted yesterday but because i accidentally deleted my main blog, this is a repost—not stolen. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: some discussions of colonization—i brought my own struggles with displacement into y/n's relation to namor's history. there are some depictions of violence as well.

Namor had prisoners, that much you knew. He hadn’t been keen on telling you why, insisting he had it under control and that absolutely no harm would come to you or the people of Talokan. He’d given you his word as the King and as your husband. Namor the loveless child. That was what he’d dotted himself as but then he’d met you. You’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime to study sea life in San Diego, California and your apartment, which had been paid for by the school, overlooked the ocean. Even as a child, you’d always been drawn to the ocean. Despite living hours away, whenever your parents took you to the beach, it was like the waves had been calling you, a primitive urge to get closer, to let the water engulf you. Your parents had always joked about it, calling you a mermaid or siren and were convinced that one day you’d have fins instead of feet. They weren’t exactly far off.

The very first time you saw him, he had been undercover trying to collect information about a new oil-infused tank that was set to drop in the middle of the ocean, potentially displacing thousands of already endangered species’, the array of coral reefs that resided in the area and polluting the waters. You’d been at the meeting to argue against its installation and provide evidence you and your team had collected that supported your claim. He’d been there, standing in the corner of the room with his hands behind his back eyeing you curiously. You’d assumed he was some sort of marine biologist, the long, white lab coat he’d worn over his shoulders as good a sign as any but once you got a closer look, he was anything but. You could tell it was hard for him to mask the disgust he’d had for everyone that stood on the opposing side and found yourself silently sharing the same sentiment. It seemed as though they were only thinking of money and not the catastrophic side effects.

“All you care about is how much you’ll have in your pockets if this deal goes through,” you argued, slamming your hands on the table in front of you. You’d tried to maintain composure throughout the debate but the businessmen weren’t letting up and you couldn’t allow them to go through with this. Not when there was something you could do about it. Not when you were this close.

One of the men stood up and met your eyes, wearing a smirk that only seemed to anger you more.

“Finally, y/n speaks some sense!” he clasps his hands together as the men sitting behind him laugh into their hands. Your eyebrows furrow.

“I don’t care what it takes to put an end to this endangerment. Arrest me for all I care.” you barely registered the fact that your hands were shaking, the first sign of you losing your composure.

“That can be arranged.” the man in the middle said, both of his goons laughing impossibly harder.

Finally, the mysterious man who stood in the corner stepped toward the table with a neutral expression. You could tell he was hiding something right away. You’d always been good at reading people. You felt the urge to step back and let him handle this, but this was also something you were incredibly passionate about. This was why you were here. Straightening your shoulders, you stood up and eyed the men in front of you dangerously.

“If you go through with this, there is absolutely nothing stopping the stream of bad luck that will likely find its way to the three of you if this tank is to be installed. I may be forgiving, but the ocean is not.”

You had never seen businessmen keen on making money pack their things faster. It was almost as if they were in a trance. All you could do was watch on in awe as they quickly left, ushering their apologies to the mysterious man from the corner which was what you’d taken to calling him in your head.

Once the men were gone, you quietly let your peers know you wanted to speak to the man alone and they each nodded in understanding, slinging their backpacks over their shoulders as they exited the room as well. The man eyed you curiously, and suddenly, the fire you’d ignited during the argument had been extinguished leaving nothing but a shy college student who loved nothing more than the ocean.

“Thank you for taking care of that mysterious corner man.” you said. To your surprise, the man laughed. The sound was loud and sweet and your stomach felt funny, an unfamiliar sensation you’d only felt once before when you’d been at the beach and finally caught your first wave on the surfboard you’d crafted yourself.

“Namor.” was all he said, the smile never leaving his face.

“Huh?” it had taken you by surprise.

“Namor. My name. It is Namor.” he said once more. Somehow, the two of you had gotten closer to one another.

“Mine is y/n.” your eyes met his dark brown and he seemed to be captivated. Unable to look away from you.

“Your name .. it is lovely,” you barely registered the fact that your hands were still shaking at your sides from the debate, but he did. In fact, he silently searched your eyes for permission as he took one of them into his own big and strong and pressed your knuckles to his lips. You eyed him confusedly. Was this allowed?

He seemed to pick up on this.

“I wanted to thank you.” was all he said, hoping you’d get it.

“Whatever for?” was what came out instead. You weren’t sure what he was getting at.

“For defending the ocean. There are not many who do what you do anymore. They couldn’t be bothered.” Namor seemed hurt by this but there was a hint of fondness in his voice, probably hinted toward you.

“I’m just doing what any good person would.” and that was the truth. You couldn’t understand why the profession you’d wanted to be a part of was so small in size—why so many people lacked any sense of care or self awareness about the problems out in the ocean. At least Namor seemed to understand. It felt good knowing someone was on your side.

“You’d be surprised.” and wasn’t it funny that he hadn’t let go of your hand yet? It barely seemed to register to you as you were far too engulfed in the way he’d been staring at you. Like you meant something. Like your voice was heard.

After you’d both parted ways, you’d been left with nothing but his first name and the yearning sensation that you wanted more. It couldn’t have ended there yet you had been certain you’d never see Namor again. It caught you by surprise when you’d seen him at the beach during an afternoon stroll. He’d been standing by the shore, letting the surge of cold yet clear saltwater rush past his feet. He had his hands behind his back as he watched the sun set below the horizon. For a moment, all you could do was watch. Could it really be him? The same man who’d so bravely defended you and your cause? You were keen on finding out.

As you walked closer and closer, he finally spoke without turning around.

“Y/n. Our paths cross once again.” you silently wondered how he’d known you were there. To your knowledge, he hadn’t turned around.

“Namor,” you joined him at his side and instead of meeting his eyes, you kept your focus on the ocean, watching the mixture of oranges and pinks that reflected off the sea from the setting sun.

You weren’t sure what to say. Surely mentioning the fact that you’d been thinking about him since you’d last parted was weird. He spoke first, though.

“What is it you do for a living? Your passions and hobbies?” so he wanted to know more about you. You felt the same.

“I’ve always had a fascination with sea life which is why I’m here studying to become a marine biologist. I guess you could say I surf in my free time, but since school is so demanding, I spend most days learning more and bettering my arguments so I can stop crooks like the men you met from ruining our oceans and provide better ways for energy infrastructure instead of relying on oil.” you’d been rambling and suddenly felt embarrassed, searching Namor’s eyes for any hint of annoyance or confusion but all that was there was the same look of fondness he’d had back when you’d very first met.

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke after the moment of silence.

“Sorry for oversharing.” you spoke quietly. If he hadn’t been so close, you were certain the waves rushing in would drown out your voice.

“Do not apologize, y/n. It is something I also find fascinating—you could say I study it too.” he was wearing a smile.

“You’re not a marine biologist?” you asked confusedly. For whatever reason, you’d assumed he was some sort of scientist. Why else would he be at the meeting?

“Not quite. You see, I study the ocean from a different angle. Not from the surface.” you furrowed your brows in concentration, trying to piece together what he meant. Maybe he voyaged in submarines, studying deep sea life?

“So you’re a scuba diver.” at his sudden laughter, you placed your hands on your hips. “Are you mocking me?” you inquired, feigning offense, though it wasn’t masked very well as a smile had broken out on your face as well.

“No, no, not at all.” Namor regained his composure, looking at you with a seriousness you hadn’t seen from him yet. “Have you ever heard of the K’uk’ulkan?” he asked. You nodded. Of course you had.

“Yes. He’s regarded as a serpent-like deity in Mesoamerican mythology. They say he had feathered feet.” you wondered why he was bringing this up, but it interested you.

He was quiet for a while until the last of the sun's orange disappeared beneath the horizon. You two were the only ones on the beach for miles.

“Namor, are you alright?” you wondered aloud, turning toward him.

“There is something you must know. Something you must promise not to share—to anyone. Am I able to trust you?” without another word, you nodded. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him too—more than you’d trusted anyone before.

Silently, he reached for your hand and led you toward the dry sand, offering you a spot beside him on a broken log that the tide must have brought in. Hesitantly, you sat down.

“I cannot deny the feelings I harbor for you—the things I think of, the things I wish to say and want to do to and with you, but I always promised myself if this were to happen, I’d tell them of the greatest secret I’ve ever kept.” conflicting thoughts rushed through your head. For one, you were grateful he shared the same lust for you as you did for him but on the other hand, you had absolutely no idea what he wished to tell you.

“Namor I-” but your sentence fell short as he revealed the feathered feet he had and just how pointed his ears were, which had been concealed by hats both times you’d seen him. Suddenly, everything made sense. Everything he’d been alluding to was true.

“The K’uk’ulkan? That’s you?” your voice was barely above a whisper yet you couldn’t conceal the awe you felt. The curiosity. As a scientist, you had many questions, but you wanted to remain as respectful as possible.

“I’m sure you have many questions,” was the first thing he said, laughing as you nodded.

“How were you able to conceal your identity for so long? From what I’ve read about the K’uk’ulkan, the first historical texts date all the way back to the 16th century. Have you been alive that long?” you asked, hoping you weren’t prodding too much.

“It is a long, long story. I hope you have time.” he teased, knowing you would.

Namor explained that while he wasn’t actually the great deity the Mayans described, he was a mutant. You were unfamiliar with the term, but because of the Avengers and the fact that so much in the Universe was left unanswered, you believed him. He spoke of a liquid he and his people were instructed to drink because of the colonization-inflicted diseases that were wiping the entirety of Mesoamerica out left and right. At first, his mother hadn’t wanted to drink the vibranium-infused liquid as she had been pregnant with Namor at the time, but was eventually told he too would be sick and that the liquid would cure him. In many ways, you understood his pain. Colonization had also affected your relationship with your culture and at times, you were also incredibly angry at how your people were still suffering years and years later.

Because of the liquid, Namor was born with feathered feet and his people worshiped him. He described his people with such fondness in his eyes. They called him K’uk’ulkan and he was the ruler of an underwater civilization called Talokan. Because of the liquid his people drank, they were able to breathe underwater which is how they were able to survive. Everything sounded so beautiful to you.

“Your home sounds lovely. If there was a way, I’d love to see it one day.” you said with a smile.

“There is a way.”

That had been a year ago. Since the talk you’d shared with him on the beach, you two had only grown closer. After meetings on the very same sands every now and then, he’d asked if you’d wanted to see Talokan. You’d said yes, happy that he’d trusted you as much as he did. You had to admit it was absolutely amazing. You’d never seen anything quite like it before and his people grew very fond of you as well. They enjoyed your company whenever Namor allowed you to visit and you were beginning to wish you’d never have to leave, though you were conflicted. Everything you’d wanted to become was on the surface, and Namor had only spoken to you once before about what would have to happen in order for you to stay with him and his people in Talokan permanently.

While you were putting your suit on, you’d decided to talk to him about everything you’d been thinking about.

Namor was watching you with the same fondness in his eyes he’d had the very first day he’d met you. It was something you’d gotten used to.

“Sometimes I wish I could stay here with you forever,” you’d whispered though the cave was empty. It was just you and him.

He rose a brow.

“In yakunaj (my love),” he whispered back. “There are ways that can be arranged, but I cannot ask that of you. That is a decision you’ll have to make yourself.” he stated solemnly. You knew what he wanted—what he desired—and you knew how dangerous that was. If he asked you to stay with him, you knew you’d say yes. Namor knew that too. That was why the decision was ultimately left to you.

“I think I love you.” is what you began with. You’d, of course, told him this numerous times before, but right now, it felt like it mattered the most that he knew this decision was coming from your heart.

“I love you too, y/n.” Namor looked like he wanted to reach out and hold your hands so you let him. They were grounding, helping you focus on what you’d wanted to say.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” and that was the truth—you did. “There is more you can teach me about the ocean than any land-dwelling professor. I want to wake up and see your face in the morning. I want you to teach me more about your culture—anything you think I might need to know. I’m all ears. I can’t fathom leaving you.” you whispered. The two of you were impossibly close. When he exhaled, you could feel it on your face. Searching his eyes, you anxiously awaited his response.

“I can teach you things no college professor of yours even has the knowledge to grasp, throw big, grand celebrations for you. You will be their Reina.” at your confused head tilt, he clarified.

“Their queen, y/n. You will be the Queen of Talokan. My queen.”

The ceremony had been one of the most extravagant things you’d ever been a part of. Before any of that though, you’d been given the mysterious liquid to drink which was going to give you similar abilities that the Talokan’s had. You still couldn’t believe you’d be able to breathe underwater—that you’d be living underwater. Namor had promised he’d be by your side as you drank from the flower and assured you that everything would be okay.

After you drank it, it was like a sedative. You were passed out in moments and once you awoke, you found yourself gasping for air. It seemed as though your lungs could no longer intake oxygen. As promised, Namor rushed you to the body of water that led to Talokan in the cave so you could get your bearings. He seemed to be memorized by you and your bravery. Once you caught your breath and gazed around the cave, the world felt different. You felt different, which was to be expected. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around Namor who held you close and you shut your eyes. The weight of what you’d just done finally settled in and while you were excited for the new opportunities and the fact that you’d been welcomed into his home, you were going to miss the surface-world.

“Is everything okay, in yakunaj?” he asked, his voice full of worry and concern.

It took you a moment, but after you collected yourself, you nodded, smiled and let him lead the way as you swam down, down, down.

Sometimes curiosity got the best of you. Like you’d said, one of the guards had informed you Namor was holding two prisoners in the caves and since you’d always been an explorer, you asked one of your guards, Muyal, to take you to them. Namor rarely held people in the caves as no land-dwellers knew anything about Talokan so when she begrudgingly said yes, you smiled and let her lead the way.

Since you’d become Reina, the Talokan people had treated you very differently to the visiting land-dweller you had been before you’d drank the vibranium-infused liquid. As a means to honor the K’uk’ulkan and your husband, you were gifted pointed, jeweled ear pieces you wore along with his mother’s bracelet he’d given you on the night of your wedding. You hadn’t taken it off since and every time he noticed you wearing it, Namor couldn’t help but smile. To honor your own culture, most days you wore golden hand pieces that reminded you of a home you were never able to know but hoped that you could visit one day, even if you were only able to travel its oceans. Namor respected the fact that you honored both yourself and his people and during language lessons, sometimes he asked you to teach him about your native tongue as well. You were happy to do so.

It took a while to swim upward toward the caves, but once you arrived, Muyal handed you a water-mask you needed to wear in order to breathe on land.

The first thing you registered was the fact that there were two women sitting there, one of which was wearing royal clothing that Namor had designed specifically for princesses or princes—in this case you recognized her as princess Shuri of Wakanda. The other woman—someone you did not recognize—was sitting on the ground and she noticed you first. Her face morphed into something akin to fear—worry—which confused you. You were not there to harm them. You just wanted answers.

“Shuri,” the woman sitting on the ground whispered, unable to look away from you as she tapped on the other. Princess Shuri looked at you yet you couldn’t quite register what she was thinking. Her facial expression was unreadable.

“Hello,” you stated, waving hesitantly at the two. The one on the floor waved back albeit nervously. “I’m not here to hurt you,” you said. “I just want answers.” Shuri and the woman sitting on the floor looked at each other with unreadable expressions before turning toward you.

“Did Namor not tell you?” Shuri asked confusedly. You shook your head. No, he had not.

“No, he didn’t. That’s why I came here. Things like this don’t happen often.” is what you replied with, hoping that would ease the tense atmosphere. The woman on the floor seemed happy with your answer and smiled.

“I’m Riri Williams. I’m sort of the reason we’re in this mess,” she nudged Shuri’s shoulder and the two of them laughed, though you weren’t privy to what caused everything. Riri eventually continued. “I’m a scientist,” that caused a smile to break out on your face.

“Me too,” you shared with her, urging her to continue her story.

“I made a vibranium detector that my professor sold to the government without my permission and now Namor wants to kill me,” it was word vomit but your blood ran cold. Namor wanted to kill her?

In a way, you supposed you understood. If the world were to gain access to vibranium detectors, Talokan would be discovered, compromising Namor and his people. But on the other hand, you could tell none of this was her fault.

“Maybe if I talk to him,” you mumbled under your breath but Shuri must have heard you.

“I have already tried. I could not convince him,” you felt immensely bad for both Shuri and Riri and an overwhelming urge to help them.

“How can I-” in the corner of the room where one of your guards stood, there was a sudden commotion that had the three of you turning toward the sound. Shuri stood protectively in front of Riri while you allowed Muyal to position herself into an attacking position in front of you.

“Nakia?” Shuri whisper-shouted. Muyal took the moment of distraction as her chance to strike. A shout left your lips but because of the adrenaline, she didn’t stand down like you’d demanded. Nakia threw her arms over her face defensively and once she regained her composure to fight back, she fired a warning shot that hit the wall of the cave. Because of the loud noise, none of you had noticed the fact that one of the guards had Shuri in a chokehold. Before you could do anything though, Nakia positioned her gun and got ready to fire.

“P'at a biin le princesa (let go of the princess)!” Nakia demanded, fluently speaking Yucatec.

The guard shook her head. You glanced over at Riri who had her hands over her mouth.

“Ma'atech (never)!” the guard shouted.

Nakia sighed in frustration, knowing how much time she was losing.

“Shuri, move your arm to the right.” as soon as she complied, Nakia shot the guard's arm, emitting a scream from your lips as you rushed toward her, hoping there was something you could do to help her feel better. The blast from Nakia had singed her arm pretty good.

You watched as Shuri collapsed beside you, shouting something about war and everything was just so, so overwhelming.

“I can fix this!” Shuri shouted, her voice full of anguish as Nakia demanded she follow her.

“Shuri, we don’t have time!” she shouted back, grabbing her by the arm. Nakia glanced at you.

“You,” she pointed at you. Your eyes widened. “You’re coming with us.” everyone was shouting in confusion—including you.

“What!? Why!?” you demanded. You hadn’t done anything wrong as far as you knew.

“There cannot be any witnesses.” Nakia muttered as she led the four of you to the ship-like tube she’d taken to Talokan. Hesitantly, you boarded, watching as Talokan got smaller and smaller and smaller.

Solemnly, you wondered where Namor was.

chapter 2

#namor x reader #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor fanfic #jewish reader #arab reader #black panther

[by-ego]

Late night, Asher x Babe

Just some cute Asher and Babe stuff. She/they ashkenazi jewish Babe with good music taste. Asher being intrudused to Babes and their friends diffrent cultures. Him loving it. Asher being in love with Babe <3

Asher came home late, much much later than he usually does. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake up his sleeping mate. But when he stepped inside he heard music coming from the kitchen, in Arabic and russian. He could also smell honey, cinnamon and wild berries. He closed his eyes and took in the sensation of his mates ethnic baking and music. He kicked off his shoes, knowing babe would whoop his ass if she saw him wearing shoes in the apartment, and headed towards the kitchen to greet his lover. 

Babe was sitting on the counter, eyes closed and just vibing to the music as the oven was heating up and babka layed waiting to be baked. Rests of the mess making jam had caused was scattered in the sink. Babes' eyes shot open as they heard him enter the kitchen and a smile spread over their face. Ash smiled back and quickly stepped to his mate and wrapped his arms around their waist. He could feel her entire body relax and grow heavy as he embraced them, their head resting on his shoulder and their arms around his neck. He gently kissed her exposed shoulders and hands wandering over her naked thighs. All she was wearing was his t-shirt and very short shorts. That is usually what she slept in, and she changed as soon as she got out of bed, so it was clear how tired they had been when they started the long process of baking babka. No words needed to be exchanged, they both knew the other had had a long day, and just needed to rest in the embrace of the other. 

Soon the timer made its noice signalling that the oven and dough was ready and Asher picked his mate up from the counter and put them on the floor. He kissed their neck, a gentle and soft kiss, and whispered that he was going to clean himself up before coming back to join them. They nodded and turned to place a kiss on Asher’s cheek, leaving a smile on his face. He wanted nothing more than for them to join him in the shower, but the slight dampness of their hair showed that she had showered not long before. And if Ash asked them to join him, they both knew that they wouldn't just be showering, not with how much he had missed them. But they were both too tired, he knew that. So instead he rested his forehead on hers, eyes lazily gazing at them, before kissing them one last time and leaving the kitchen. 

The hot water hit his body and relaxed his muscles, he took a deep breath and let his head fall back, resting against the tiles. He let the warm sensation of the water wash the stress and ache of the day. He wished he had his mate there with him, resting against his chest, water running down their back. His hands on their body, her hands on his, helping him wash off.  He needed to feel them against him, but not right now. He knew that. He picked up the shampoo and drizzled out enough into his hand before lathering up his hair. Washing out the shampoo was always his favourite part, feeling the water wash out the dirt from his scalp. His shoulders sank and he closed his eyes, just breathing. 

Ensay by Saad Lamjarred was playing when he came out from the bathroom, just sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Babes' shoulders and hands were moving to the music, their hips swaying. He loved seeing them dance, her movements hypnotising. He saw the light on in the oven, and a timer ticking, showing that the sweet jewish bread was being baked. His chest pressed up against their back, hands snaking around their waist, and moving to the song with them. He was still getting used to the music, language, cooking and culture, not just from her, but from her friends too. He knew that the playlist playing was a shared playlist between her friends, coming from many cultures. He loved it, even if he didn’t always understand what was being said and why certain things were done the way they were, but nonetheless, he loved to learn. Especially for them. The song changed, russian this time. He recognized the voice but not the song. Erika Lundmoen. “Крыльями” they whispered, he looked at them with confusion. “It’s the name of the song, it means wings,” she smiled. She had turned around to face him, her chest pressed to his. One hand on his cheek, their other on his shoulder. He leaned down, kissing them. A deep and loving kiss, one filled with hunger for the other person. They broke the kiss, catching their breath, just to crash her lips to his again the next second. 

Not how either of them had expected the night to end. Making out in the kitchen to ночь by ooes, both of them lacking a lot of clothes, waiting for babka to get done and both very tired and drunk in love with each other.

#redacted babe #redacted asher #redacted asmr #jewish babe #jewish reader #cute stuff #redacted adio #redacted wolfs #redacted wolf pack #baking babka late is a nightmare but such a vibe #arab music #russian music #redacted sweetheart #redacted angel #redacted milo #redacted darlin #redacted davey #redacted sam #redacted david #redacted asher and babe

[romanarose]

I got the cutest Joel miller x Jewish reader fic comimg yall you don’t understand

Comment if you’d like a tag!!!

#TLOU #Joel miller x reader #Hanukkah #Hanukkah fanfiction #the last of us #x reader #Jewish reader

[commander-writergirl]

Red String of Fate 2

Synopsis: In a world where your soulmate is picked for you with a name tattooed, you are born with the rare trait of not seeing colors until you meet yours. You never expected the universe to foresee the divided mind of your other half.

Pair: Jake Lockley x Jewish!fem!reader, Steven Grant x Jewish!fem!reader, Marc Spector

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mention of child abuse (verbal), mentions of death, car crash, drunk driver, alcoholism

Word Count: 2,151

Tags: @softlyspector @romanarose @ginger-haired-queen @loonymagizoologist​ 

“Wait, wait.” I turned from the eggs I was cooking to look at Steven. “Why didn’t you tell me before you were vegan?”

The spoon Steven held stopped halfway to his mouth before setting it back in the bowl. “Y-you just always seemed so happy to cook for me. I didn’t want to ruin it.” He answered rubbing his hands along his pants.  

Steven still had a lot of nervous energy around me even after months of being together.  

And I knew he was being honest, Jake even stepped out of the kitchen when I began cooking because I just disappeared into my own little world. I hadn’t gotten around to telling the boys about my mother yet... even almost 16 years later, her death still hung around.

I shook my head and walked over to Steven. Once I stood next to him, I ran my fingers through his curls. “You could have told me; I could have tried to cook more vegan friendly meals.”  

He leaned into my hand, his eyes drifting close. I smiled lightly and tilted his head back before pressing my lips to his. He hummed and held me close to his side. I giggled. “Jake would have taken the chance to bend me over the table.”

Steven nodded, “Yea, the bloke won’t stop mentioning it.”  

I shook my head, “Well now I know to make more vegan meals.” I said walking back to the stove and finishing up my eggs.

Steven’s spoon clanked against the bowl a few times. “Well maybe if you keep them kosher, it won't be so bad.”  

I smiled to myself, moving the eggs from the frying pan to my plate. “I can certainly do that.” I grabbed my plate and walked over to the table.

“So, any plans today?” Steven asked, resuming his task of finishing his cereal before it got too soggy.

I took a bit of egg before answering him, “Yes, I have matinee ticket to a friend's production.” I looked at my watch. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” I shoveled a few more bites into my mouth before getting up and running back to my bag that now had an almost permanent place in the apartment.  

“Well, I’ll be at the museum today so no Jake randomly picking you up.” Steven said with a smile.  

I rolled my eyes; how could I be attached to two men so competitive for my attention.  Well technically three, but Marc was still hiding himself. I knew he came out when the boys weren’t around me, keeping himself distant.

I quickly slipped into the sunset dress I brought and turned in it a few times making the skirt ‘swish’ about. I nodded to myself, “Okay, this works.” I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my heels on.

“Oh, bloody hell,” I looked up to see Steven standing in the door frame with his hand on his heart. “You have to warn me when you’re dressed like that darling.”

I giggled and got up grabbing my purse as I walked over to him. “Sorry, I kind of forgot I even had this dress until a few months ago.”

He pulled me to him and kissed me deeply. I smiled and kissed him back cupping his cheek. It was always hard to pull away from Steven and Jake, the soulmate bond having full effect almost.  

I hummed and pulled away. “If I miss this, my friend will kill me. I will see you both tonight.” I pecked his lips before stepping around him heading for the front door. “Love you, bye.” I shouted before stepping out and heading for the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~

Steven rolled his neck sighing as the bone cracked.  

“Why can't I go do my job?” Jake asked for the... well Steven didn’t quite know how many times Jake had asked that. Probably since Steven grabbed the spot in the archive room almost; he glanced at his watch, four hours ago. Thankfully it was still daylight out.

“Because this is my job and we agreed to alternate who does what.” Steven rubbed his eyes, the text in front of him blurring a little.

“At least we aren’t doing Marc’s job.” Jake grumbled.

“Screw both of you.” Marc spat out in the headspace.

Steven looked over at the glass display and could see Marc scowling. Which since you came into their lives has been the norm. He still hadn’t shown himself and even Steven was losing patience with it. He woke to find himself on the couch when he could have sworn up and down, he fell asleep with you wrapped around him.  

“Maybe if you just showed yourself to her Spector, you would feel a lot better.” Jake said, showing up in another glass display, mustache and all.  

“I don’t know what you think but I don’t deserve her affection.”  

Steven grounded his teeth. There were days where he wished he had the ability to put the walls between them back up, but Jake didn’t deserve that. “Obviously the universe, the Fates, whatever you believe, knew what would become of you and still believed you deserved a partner.” Steven snapped.

Almost a year of this. Of Marc’s self-deprecation. It was grating on everyone. Steven and Jake could both see it hurt you that Marc didn’t want to meet you. Even when you said it was fine and gave them a smile, they could see the pain.  

When Steven was met with only silence, he returned to the text he was working on and was able to focus once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

I traced random shapes on Jake’s chest as he snored softly. As my finger ran over a specific scar, his arm tightened around my waist before his eyelids fluttered. I looked up to meet molten brown eyes.  

“Mornin’ mi vida.”  

“Mornin’,” I leaned up and kissed his cheek. He smiled and ran his finger over my thread bracelet.

“Who gave this to you?” He messed with the moon charm. “Because I wonder if they had any idea of who you were connected with.”

I tried not to think too much about what Marc did at night for an Egyptian deity, usually just worried me. “My mother.” I watched as he twisted the charm.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

I felt the burning start behind my eyes. “Believe me, I wish you could.” I sniffled and sat up.

“Mi vida?” I felt him pull me to his lap.

I took a shaky breath and wiped away tears. “She died, 15 years ago.” I looked at him to see him blink a few times. “I know it was so long ago and I shouldn’t be crying about it.” I looked down and curled in on myself.

He stroked my cheek. “What happened?”

I sniffled, “She was picking me up from a function or something, I can’t remember.” I could hear the music that had been playing. She had some Bruce Springsteen playing and I was laughing at her lip singing. I remembered the headlights... “We were hit by a drunk driver. The doctors said she died on impact, but that it was a miracle I survived.” I shook my head. “I haven’t felt lucky, and then after her death, my dad he...” I sighed.

“It’s okay, take your time mi amor.” Jake pressed a kiss to my temple and brushed my hair back. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

I nuzzled into his chest. “You never told me who was the uh,” I closed my eyes trying to remember the term. “The host was.”

He set his chin on the top of my head. “Marc is.”  

I ran one of my fingers along the vain running in his forearm. “Funny, he doesn’t want to meet me. Considering I was probably originally born to be his.”  

“Well, the time between the universes creation of you and you meeting us has been filled with roads of bullshit and death. He doesn’t believe he deserves you.” Jake rubbed circles along my bare thigh.  

I sighed, “I like cooking because I had to take care of myself for a while and it reminds me of my mom.” I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. “My dad, he lost himself when she died. He began to drink excessively. A man who hated liquor caused bottles to litter our home.”  

I felt Jake tense and realized I needed to keep going. “I came home from school one day and he passed out on the couch. I decided that for the moment, I needed to be an adult. I started with picking up all the empty bottles. I then took all but one vodka from the house to the bar down the block. And when I got home, I began to cook dinner.”

I remember that day, I had therapy and was home later than usual. “When he finally woke up, he went for the bottle of bourbon that had been on the table. When he couldn’t find it, he began to look for it. The whole time I sat at the island eating dinner and finishing my homework.”

The look in his eyes when he realized what I did.” I shook my head. “My father doesn’t scare me, but the look on his face that day.” I sighed. “I thought he was finally gonna break and blame me for my mom dying, I had been blaming myself. Hence the therapy.” I felt Jake slowly relax as I squeezed his hand. “But I guess something in my face told him, I wasn’t afraid of him even then. He cried a lot after my mom but after the tears were gone, he drank.”

“Whatever he saw in your face that night broke him again?” Jake asked.

I nodded. “He did and after that we went to family therapy, and he got better. After a few years of that, our therapist explained that losing his soulmate had broken a part of my father so much that she was surprised I was able to pull him back.” I sighed and moved so I could look at him. “And that is my tale of woe.”  

Jake stroked my cheek. “Aw mi sol.”

I sniffled and laid my hand over his. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of his hand spread from my cheek to the rest of my body.

When I felt his body tense again, it felt... different. “Marc?”

He huffed, “They were right, you are good at sensing that.” Midwestern accent, not what I was expecting.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had the same brown eyes, but I could see something else in them. Something I didn’t usually see in Steven or Jake. A sense of being lost, unfocused.  

“Why now?” I whispered. As he began to turn away, I cupped his jaw. “Marc, why now?” I repeated, a sternness in my voice.  

He gripped my wrist and for a moment, I worried he would shove me away. But his thumbs rubbed against my pulse points. “Because you don’t deserve to be in pain because I’m...” He sighed and kissed the inside of my palm. “I don’t feel deserving because of the things I did. Because someone told me for too long, I was a mistake. A monster.”  

I wanted to tell him that whoever said those things was a liar, but I also felt that once he told me who had been saying those things, I would understand why they still stuck so much with him.  

“Who made you believe those things baby?” I watched some of the tension in his shoulders vanish from the nickname.  

“My mother.” He looked at me and I caught the small crack in his armor. “I did a stupid thing as a kid, and I got my brother killed. She blamed me, took all her pain out on me.” He took a shaky breath. “It’s taken me a long time to realize, I couldn’t have known what would happen. I was a kid, I wanted to have fun.”  

“Is that what caused the break?” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “First, I went to therapy for years. And second, I know the boys let you in on my fascination with psychology.”

He shook his head, “Right.” He took my left hand from his face and began to mess with the charms on my thread. “Yes, it was.”  

I nodded and moved to sit on my knees in front of him. He tilted his head and furrowed his brow. I smiled and held my hand out. “Hi, I’m F/N L/N. And I think I might be your beshert.”  

He chuckled and shook his head before shaking my hand. “Hi Y/N. I’m Marc Spector and I think you are right.”

I watched our hands shake and we both watched as the red thread slipped off my wrist.

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

translation: 

Beshert: “destined” or “intended.” An event, set of circumstances, or situation can all be referred to as bashert, implying that whatever happens was orchestrated by G-d, who ultimately has out best interests in mind. 

In short, it’s the closest term in Hebrew/Yiddish to soulmates. Some Jews also see it as meaning “the right person, at the right time.” 

#sammi writes #Jake lockley x jewish!reader #Steven Grant x Jewish!reader #Marc spector x Jewish!Reader #moon knight au #soulmate au #moon knight fic #oscar isaac characters #marvel fanfic #jewish reader #SJ writes #moon knight x jewish!reader #soulmate au but make it Jewish

[milkymoon2483]

Hidden Magnets

Push & Pull - Episode 3 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

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Summary: Frank pulls you closer just to push you away again. Not able to contain your feelings for Frank you finally speak up, only to be met with more rejection. However, when you find yourself needing him the most he finally shows up for you.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), Mentions of alcoholism, drinking, smoking, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, fat shaming, sexual assault, violence, blood, and FINALLY some SMUT. Sensitive folks this is not for you. WC: ~5300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

Hidden Magnets

Frank sat at the window for longer than he’d like to admit, keeping his eyes on the light blue house across the street. He preferred to look at it as an act of protection rather than voyeurism, but he wasn’t sure you’d agree.

It’s been two days since you last spoke, since he almost kissed you, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to text.

You didn’t text either, perhaps shaken by what almost occurred, perhaps burned by the sting of his rejection. He saw it in your eyes, the disappointment, the hurt he caused you. Yet he still watched, convinced that this was for the better, that this was what’s right. He could make out your red sweater as you moved around the house,  a smear of color behind the glass and sheer curtains, like a koi swimming endlessly in an aquarium.

He was still being pulled in your direction, and watching from a safe distance seemed harmless enough.

Come noon you were making little trips outside, carrying some boxes and trash bags. wrapped in your unzipped puffy coat, your face pale and somber. 

When he heard the familiar sound of a car ignition refusing to start, he bit back smile.  An excuse. A perfect reason to see you, no false pretenses. Just as suspected you showed up less than two minutes later.

You were hardly surprised that your dad’s old Honda refused to start, the battery had probably died over the span of the past two weeks. At least you hoped that the little light indication was correct and it was nothing more serious. You didn’t have the money for anything more serious.

You hated to have to do this, but what choice did you have? You set your pride aside in favor of being pragmatic, because of course he'd help. You’d be nice and normal about it and he would come to your rescue, like he always does. 

With a heavy heart you crossed the street towards the humble dark gray one-story. 

Frank opened before you could finish knocking. 

“Hey Han, what’s up? ” He greeted you with a hushed tone. The tiniest bit of stubble showed on his otherwise clean-shaven jaw, he was wearing a gray melange pullover hoodie and cargo pants. You could smell the whiff of fresh laundry, battling the need to nuzzle against his chest. 

“Hi, Frank, um..the car won’t start, I think it’s the battery. Can you maybe take a look?” 

“Sure, come on” He smiled briefly, pulling on his boots and heading out after you.

What followed was a display of masculinity the likes of which you haven’t witnessed before. You were gawking yet again as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing those toned forearms, and popped the hood of the car open, furrowing his brows in concentration. He proceeded to replace the car battery with a spare one from his garage. He checked the oil and the brakes, filled up the windshield wiper fluid, and even got an electric pump to top off the tires. 

There was a self-assuredness about his movements, each one deft and precise.

It was an even more potent aphrodisiac than seeing him shirtless at the pool all those years ago. Each accurately confident action only served to remind you of other things he must know how to do accurately and confidently.  You couldn't help yourself when it came to him, your body reacted on a biological level.

Acutely aware of your gaze, Frank knew your eyes followed him as he moved, he was the one on display now, and a small part of him loved it. 

“I think she’s ready to go” He smiled, softening his stoic features.

“I can’t believe you just did all that, thank you so much, that was impressive!” you gushed as you both walked back into your house. Frank washed his hands of the grime in the kitchen sink. When he turned back, there was that look in your eyes again, filled with gratitude and awe, the one he couldn't get enough of. An overwhelming sense of pride swelled in his chest. He was still useful, still helpful to you. 

“Don’t mention it” He replied, laying both palms on your shoulders, slowly running them down your arms, making heat skittle across your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you Han” his voice was quieter, softer than before, as you drew closer to him, Hidden magnets pulling you towards each other.

“Anything?” you asked softly, keeping your eyes on his hands holding yours, caressing the backs of your palms with his thumbs. Your heart galloped at his proximity. 

“Yeah” he replied, exhaling sharply.

His palm came up to your face, thumb gently tracing the seam of your lips, reminding himself of what he was not supposed to taste.

“So goddamn beautiful and sweet, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasped. 

“Frank…” you pleaded. For him to kiss you, to do something, anything. To ease the agonizing ache in your chest that grew more unbearable with each time he was near.

He shook his head silently. Anything but this, anything but what you both wanted. 

He didn’t know why he was doing this to you, to himself. Maybe he felt like he deserved this self-inflicted punishment. Like a masochist pushing himself to the breaking point.

"You can…have me" you finally spoke, just barely, heart slamming in your chest at the words you thought you'd never say in his presence.

Frank sighed heavily. This was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Hannah, baby, you don't want this.." he replied, regret painted heavily on his face.

"You'd be surprised" your voice was tinted with annoyance. "I'm not a child Frank, haven't been for quite some time" 

"But you deserve someone your age. We're not even supposed to be talking about this" 

"Yet you keep almost kissing me. Maybe you should do it, get it over with." You cocked up a brow in defiance.

Frank chuckled, then turned serious. "I'm scared that if I start I’m not gonna be able to stop" 

You shuddered at his words. The thought of him actually reciprocating your feelings, and admitting it, seemed so far-fetched. 

"Well I might be a terrible kisser" you smirked, stepping closer to him, faking confidence to the best of your abilities. 

"I wish I could believe that" He clenched his jaw, eyes darting to your palm lying on his chest.

“Only one way to find out” You teased, glancing up at him.

“m’sorry” He stepped away, dropping his hands.

“Coward” you muttered under your breath, hoping he’d hear it. Anger flooded you, he was doing it again, pulling you towards him just to push you away. As if he had no idea how badly it fucking hurt. 

“Careful now babygirl, you don’t know what you're asking for” 

He issued a grave warning, shutting the door behind him, not giving you a chance to respond.

*******

17:45 Hannah I’m sorry

17:46 Frank Me too

17:48 Hannah Are you mad at me?

17:51 Frank No Han. Not at you

17:52 Hannah Who then?

17:53 FrankI gotta go 

17:54 Hannah OK

The exchange you had replayed repeatedly in your mind, making you feel increasingly pathetic. You practically begged for him to take you, made it abundantly clear you wanted him, and he still said no. Out of honor or dignity or god knows what abstract concept. It wasn't because he didn't want you, but you could see him trying to convince himself he didn't. That stupid fucking age excuse. You wished he’d just tell you the truth.  When the tears finally came you allowed them to wash over you. It felt foolish to cry over this, frivolous and vain in comparison to your father’s death, but it stung just the same. 

********

You bumped into Rebecca Levine on your maiden voyage with your dad’s Honda, deciding to go into the nearest Starbucks would be tempting enough to make yourself drive it. 

“Hannah! Omg! Hi!” She greeted you warmly, setting her cup on the counter so she could hug you.

“Hey Beck! Good to see you” you were genuinely happy to meet her. 

You’d see her every time you came to visit, and the two of you quickly struck up a friendship.

“I heard about Saul, I’m so sorry.” she grimaced, pulling her eyebrows together.

“Yeah, thanks, it’s ok. I’m just clearing out the house now” you mirrored her expression.

“I just got into town for the holidays actually, Do you maybe wanna go out? Catch up a little.” 

“You know what? Sure, I need to get out of that house” You agreed happily. Finally you had something to look forward to.

That night you stood in front of the mirror, applying your lipstick and pushing your breasts together in your top. You tossed your hair from side to side, mindlessly asking yourself if Frank would find you pretty like this. 

Doesn't fucking matter. Does it? 

Anger began to bubble inside of you at the thought of him. He made his choice and it was probably for the best. Whatever was pushing him away repeatedly must be a good enough reason. 

You wished you knew, maybe it would help you stay away from him out of your own volition. 

*******

The place was packed. Being one of three bars in a 20 mile radius it enjoyed quite a crowd, on Fridays in particular. The air was heavy with the smell of beer and smoke and you took your jacket off as soon as you were escorted to your table by the hostess.

After a brief conversation Rebecca ran into some more friends, leaving you to nurse your second drink alone while she entertained them. She did introduce you but the conversation went over your head, the music being too loud for you to follow.

Frank's image refused to leave you, as you touched your own lips, tracing the ghost of his fingers. 

By drink number three you pulled out your phone, opening your text chain with Frank. What an infuriating asshole. You riled yourself up, which was much easier in your drunken state.

What a fucking mess. He thinks he knows better than me, that he can make decisions for me… cant fucking decide for himself. He keeps torturing me, probably likes it too. Probably enjoys the desperate look in the fat girl’s eyes. Acting all fucking high and mightly and righteous. Fuck him. 

23:03 Hannah I thought about it again. I dont think I am sorry. I think YOU should be sorry. I think you enjoy torturing me. 

23:06 Frank Are you ok?? Where are you? 

23:06 Hannah Im great. Went out to find someone more age appropriate.

23:06 Frank Thats not funny. Are you drunk? 

23:08 Hannah Why do you do it? Why do you try to kiss me and then act like its all my idea?? Do you know how bad it fucking hurts??

23:08 Frank Where are you?? 

23:09 Frank Hannah??

23:09 Frank ??

23:11 Frank Han im sorry. Where are you??

Frank’s heart sank, guilt flooded him and settled low in his gut. He was making you collateral damage. Each time he was drawn closer to you and pulled away, each time he denied himself, he also denied you, rejected you, inflicted the same pain on you. 

And now you were drunk, god knows where, and with god knows whom. 

He opened his phone to text you again when he saw the instagram logo. Might help.

He scrolled past a few images and then he saw it.  Your delicate hand, nails manicured in black, holding a cocktail glass. The red logo on the napkin gave away your location. 

You returned your phone to your clutch bag and threw the rest of your cocktail back, the sweet tang of it causing bile to rise in your stomach. Need water, or tomorrow's gonna hurt like a bitch. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much, suddenly finding it increasingly hard to walk as you got up and made your way towards the bathroom, wobbling on two left feet and leaning on whatever your hands could find. 

“Hey! What the fuck dude!” The sharp voice was familiar, and you realized you were grabbing a man's shoulder.

“Sorry..sorry” you mumbled as he turned, making the color drain from your face.

Caleb. 

Even in a hundred years you’d remember the face of the person who turned your high school years into hell.  You dared to reject him once, and he made it his life's mission to make you regret it. 

“Would you look at that…heavy Hannah?” He smiled, without a trace of sincerity. "Should have known you'd come looking for me"

You blinked at him, dumbfounded, silenced. You were reminded of how powerless he always made you feel, of that awful nickname that caught on. 

“Aren’t you gonna apologize?” He continued, voice dripping with venom.

“Already did. Leave me alone.” 

“Hey!! Hey!! Come back here Friedman! Let's catch up!” He shouted at you as you desperately attempted to get away, pushing people to the side and squeezing in between them, clawing your way out.

Your eyes caught the back exit sign and you darted towards the glowing light as fast as you could, adrenaline pushing out the alcohol in your veins. It all felt like a nightmare, the ones in which you tried to breathe, but your lungs wouldn't fill with air, tried to run but your legs were stuck in quicksand.  You turned your head back, and for a moment you seemed to have lost him, as you quickly slipped out, closing the door behind you.

Your lungs burned, waves of cold sweat washed over you. You shivered from the cold, realizing your jacket was left behind, attempting to think of a plan that will allow you to slip back inside, grab it, and make a run for it as fast as possible. It was clear to you that Caleb wouldn’t leave you alone. The asshole could never resist the temptation of torturing you. Fucking sadist.

You leaned against the wall, drawing deep breaths of cold air. The sudden noise of the door opening drew your attention but it was already too late as he tightly grabbed your wrist.

You were in no shape to fight or defend yourself against him, but you knew you’d have to try.

“Gocha… lucky you can't run fast, can you?”

“Caleb please leave me alone” you insisted, trying to pull your hand, knowing it's hopeless, you were an easy target and he was nothing if not lazy.

“I’d say you seem a little cold, even with the extra padding” 

“Your fat jokes are super funny. Now go away please”

“Maybe I could warm you up, huh?” 

“It’s still a nope from me, now fuck off” You desperately tried to make your voice more intimidating and determined.

“You're being rude, you should be thanking me, you're lucky I even wanna touch you, most guys probably don't. But I'm feeling generous"

“you're being a creep, do not touch me.” You attempted to pull your hand out of his steely grip

Fear flooded your veins as he loomed closer, constricting your airways and making it harder for you to think and breathe.

He crowded your space, shoving his face into yours. His other palm grabbed your cheeks tightly, squeezing painfully.   “Come on baby, give me a little kiss, that would be a good enough apology for me” 

You could smell his foul breath as he slotted his mouth against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your throat, making your teeth clash.

Your body finally responded, you bit into his tongue and pushed him back as hard as you could, causing him to stumble backwards, finally letting go of your wrist. “Get the fuck off me!!” you shouted, hoping someone could hear you.

Anyone. 

“Fucking bitch!” he spat, blood drizzling from his mouth.

His palm moved fast, the sharp sting flooding the right side of your face, burning your skin. 

Your ear rang so loudly you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“You heard her” the grave voice was filled with more rage than you’ve ever heard.

Frank was an unstoppable force moving towards Caleb at maximum speed, crashing into him, sending him flying against the wall. His arm restraining Caleb in place.

“Fuck off man, let go of me” Caleb whimpered, his voice small and pathetic.

“I’ll let go when you apologize” Frank growled, not moving a muscle.

"So..s...sorry” Caleb squirmed

“Not good enough, fuckface. Try again” 

“I’m sorry Hannah” His voice strained against Frank’s arm pinning him by the throat.

“Atta boy. Now say thank you” 

“Thank you?” Caleb’s features twisted with a question mark.

“Say ‘Thank you for breaking my nose, sir’ ” 

“What?? Whah…what’s that supposed to mean?? why?” Caleb’s eyes filled with terror

“Cause you hit her, and I have decided to spare all other bones in your body” Frank's tone was flat, low and thick like gravel.

“Come on, let’s hear you” His steely eyes pierced through Caleb, cold and unforgiving.

"No man..your'e crazy" Caleb tried to protest

"You have no fucking clue" Frank replied, eerily calm. There was a pause that stretched between the two men, but Frank's eyes remained on Caleb, unflinching.

“Th…thank you..for..” his voice finally shook

The sickening crack sound was followed by a howl of pain. Caleb dropped to the ground, trembling, grabbing his bleeding nose with both hands.

“Come on, let’s go” Frank wrapped his arm over your shoulder, leading you towards his truck.

“You’rer shaking, take my jacket” He removed it, wrapping it around you. The residual heat from his body was so incredibly comforting.

You nodded without saying a word, keeping your eyes down.  You felt yourself sinking deeper into shame, and he didn't have to say anything, you disciplined yourself sternly enough.  Youv'e never felt more like a scalded child in your life. Helpless and irresponsible. Having the grown up clean your mess for you.

So fucking embarrassing. So messy. Drunk texting him, having him save you from the big bad creep. Pathetic.

“Whatever you’re saying to yourself now, stop it” Frank’s deep voice cut your train of thought. 

His heavy hand came to rest on your thigh, the warmth of it seeping through your jeans. 

“I’m sorry…” Your voice shook, tears began to pool in your eyes, the combined weight of every way you have embarrassed yourself was too heavy for you to carry. 

“Nothing you should be sorry about Han, It’s not your fault, none of it.” 

He kept driving in silence , his palm never leaving your leg, seeking constant physical validation that you are in fact ok and within his reach.

When Frank parked the truck the sudden absence of his touch left a cold void, making goosebumps run across your skin. You weren’t sure what you needed more; to crumble and cry yourself to sleep under your blankets or to cling to Frank's body heat and wrap around him like a cold blooded reptile, seeking warmth and comfort. 

“Thanks Frank, I’m sorry for this. I’ll go home now” You muttered, deciding that you have inconvenienced him enough.

“Do you wanna come in?” He asked softly, grabbing your hand.

“Okay” you replied, not finding it in yourself to resist the invitation.

Frank’s home was always minimalist to the point of being spartan. Nothing more than the bare essentials. Always spotless though you couldn’t imagine him cleaning. It fit him perfectly, being surrounded only by things that had a function, a purpose. 

You plopped on the couch with a heavy sigh, still wrapped in his jacket, shivering from the cold.

“Here, drink.” He handed you a glass of water, which you gulped quickly.

“How many did you have?” he asked 

“Three, pretty strong ones.” 

Frank took the empty glass from your hand, refilling it again, and sat himself next to you on the couch.

Your breath was heavy in the silence of the room, when tears began flooding your eyes again and you sniffled. You could sense him looking at you, disappointed no doubt, at the crushing way you managed to embarrass yourself. Your skin itched with the need to hide but your body refused to move. 

“C’mere” He grunted, scooting closer to you. 

A sign of relief left your lungs as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Seems like all I do is cry on you, I should really stop that” you murmured.

“S’ok Han, You know it's alright with me” He replied, voice muffled by the hug.

His palms ran down your back, sliding beneath the jacket, fingers brushing gently on the sliver of skin at the base of your spine, above your jeans. You fought your need to straddle his hips and press yourself fully against him, acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers on your bare skin.  His face nuzzled into your neck, breathing the scent of your hair, pressing himself against you. For a moment it seemed that he was the one begging for your warmth. 

Frank wished he could tell you. How sorry he was, how badly he wanted to kiss you, how his hands fucking burned with the need to touch you. He knew had no right to you, no right to claim you for himself, it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

Slowly your body went soft and limp in his arms as you began to doze off. He laid you gently on the pillow, covering you with the throw blanket. 

He brushed the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear, swiping a finger along your earlobe. He wished he could kiss it, draw the velvety skin between his lips and tug gently with his teeth. You'd shudder, goosebumps would run along your side as you'd press closer to him. God, he wished he could. 

The sound of the shower being turned on made you stir awake. You blinked once, twice, before connecting the dots in your mind. 

Your body ached, throat was dry, and limbs were heavy, but a voice in your head spoke loud and clear. Get up.

You obeyed.

You took off Frank's jacket, then your top, your jeans, socks, bra, and panties. The neatly folded pile of clothes was left on the couch as you walked towards the shower.

Steam filled the small room, the spray of water hiding your presence. Your heart slammed in your chest, so violently you could hear it, but a stronger force possessed you now.

You watched him for a moment, standing under the hot stream, eyes closed, he ran his palms on his face, combing his hair back with his fingers. You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing yourself onward.

Frank’s eyes flickered open, he felt like he was being watched, and it took him a second to realize what exactly he was seeing through the steam. The sight of your naked form made his breath hitch, unsure of what you'll do next.  He barely flinched when you opened the shower door and stepped in silently, your eyes finally connecting.

He was cornered, you left him no choice but to face this head on. 

Brave girl.

You lifted your hands to caress his face, in a silent plea, but he grabbed your wrists. A final pathetic attempt to stop you. He felt weak, desperately holding on to his reserve by the thinnest thread. 

He looked at you with an expression you could not decipher. His dark eyes wide open, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. He seemed angry but he did not speak, did not move. The deafening silence rang in your ears, and you felt yourself breaking under his stare. 

He released your arms slowly, as you gently cupped his face in your palms. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows, wearing a pained expression. The tension inside you boiled, begging to be released, clawing under your skin and rising like bile in your chest. You were ready to confess it all, every last agonizing thought, every dirty fantasy. 

You came closer, tilting your head and ever so gently pressing your lips against Frank's. His muscles tightened under your touch and your heart began to sink, as he did not move. 

This is a mistake, stop it now. His brain screamed, but all he could feel was the touch of your hands, the softness of your mouth on his. It was a balm on his nerves, forcing him into submission in the gentlest of ways. 

He drew a deep breath, allowing himself to finally surrender to you. His arms wrapped around your plush body, fingers digging into your wet skin, pulling you in, reciprocating your miserable kiss. 

You whimpered as the tension rolled over you in waves. He deepened the kiss, his tongue asking permission to taste you. He licked into your mouth, with infinite softness, nothing like the bruising kisses you imagined, he was tender and sweet and patient. His fingers rested on your cheek, guiding your mouth onto his, tracing your lips between kisses. 

He leaned you against the shower wall, pressing his body into yours, and you melted with delight, clinging closer to him, as your touch starved skin finally found relief. His patience spoke of a need to hold back, to protect you from himself, but you wanted to be consumed by him, devoured until there was nothing left. 

Your naked bodies slotted against each other yet you kissed as though you were still clothed, hands gently skimming along the sides, caressing the neck and arms. Exploring carefully into new territory, hiding desperate urgency.

Frank's mouth trailed slow kisses from your jaw, down your neck, until he realized there was no fabric separating you. Hesitantly and carefully his palm cupped your bare breast, his thumb circled the areola until he took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue and causing the sensitive bud to pebble. He muttered a soft “fuck” before moving to your other breast, cupping them both and feeling the weight of them in his hands. “So goddamn pretty” he whispered and kissed his way back to your mouth. 

You allowed your fingers to trail down his torso, skimming the firmness of the body you used to conjure in your mind for years. He felt so big, so real, his imaginary form turning solid. Your lips pressed against the column of his neck, licking greedily at the junction of his jaw and up to his ear, grazing with your teeth just barely, just like you desperately wanted to, a thousand times. 

The weight of his heavy cock on pressed into your hip, and as you rutted against it the friction made him groan, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, grinding himself against you. His thigh slotted between your legs, causing your breath to quicken. You were reminded of all the times you thought about rocking yourself on his thigh until you came.

You dragged your core on him, wet heat emanating from you, each moan you made swallowed by his hungry mouth. “That’s right, rub yourself on me baby” His voice was pure sin, and the words made you clench around nothing. He didn’t even have to touch you, he could talk your pussy into cumming if he damn well pleased.

His grip grew tighter and greedier as his fingers spread across your ass, grinding you against himself harder, each slippery drag of your soaked cunt punctuated by a breathy moan.  The heat rose steady in your belly, spurring you on, pulling you closer towards your release. Your hands rested on his chest, bracing yourself for impact. 

Opposing needs pulled Frank in both directions.The need to protect you, be gentle and careful and reverent. But also the need to ruin you, to watch you come undone, take more than you could give and give more than you could handle, until you were a quivering mess in his arms.

He broke from the kiss to look at you, transfixed with the way your face contorted in pleasure. If he was doing this, surrendering to this, he wanted to see you. The way your chest rose and fell, your brows pulled with concentration, your parted lips emanated those pretty sounds. He wanted to see what he was doing to you. His eyes flicked downwards, to where your slick folds rubbed against him, where his cock was pressed into your soft flesh. 

“Look at me Hannah” he asked, and your eyes fluttered open, heart galloping at the sound of your own name. 

“Shhh..look at me, s’ok baby, your’e so fucking pretty like this” his thumb ran along your bottom lip and slid gently into your mouth, you began sucking greedily, running your velvety tongue on the pad of his finger. He pumped his finger in and out, mesmerized by the way your plush lips wrapped around the thick digit. 

“Are you gonna cum baby? Hm?” He continued, as you quickened your movements, whimpering around his finger, dragging your drenched core on his thigh again and again, searching for more. "Cum for me honey, make a mess on me" he rasped,  brown eyes almost black with lust.  The pressure in your belly tightened, arousal stirring deep within you, rising higher and higher. A series of strangled moans tore from your throat as your thighs pressed around his tightly. Your blood flooded with bliss, bubbling to the tips of your toes in wave after wave of pleasure. 

You searched for his lips once more, tasting him deeper, pushing your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. He surrendered willingly as you purred against his lips.

He let you come down from your high before switching off the water. Your eyes flickered open lazily, still drunk with pleasure.

"Come on, let's dry you off" his voice sounded softer than you've ever heard it.

The post orgasm haze faded into a fragile sense of careful hesitancy.  He wrapped a large towel around you, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. 

“I can take the couch” He said with a tint of apology to his voice, as he sat beside you on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Your eyes flicked to his, looking for disappointment or anger, but you found none.

“Don’t go, please.” you pleaded, reaching for his hand.

You were scared that if you’d let him leave the room the moment would pass, the magic would fade. Afraid that he’d be back to being his strong stoic self, preoccupied with what’s right and proper and dignified.

You scooted closer to him as he ducked his head, kissing your bare shoulder, earning himself an immediate satisfied hum that spurred him to trail kisses all the way up your neck and jaw until reaching your lips. 

"Lay back baby" he rasped, leaning you on the pillows. 

Exhaustion settled in your bones, laying heavy on your lids as they fluttered shut. His coarse palm caressed you gently, lulling you to sleep in moments.

Frank thought he’d be angry at what you did, but he felt lucky, undeserving of your trust and affections. If he was a better man he would have been able to stay away from you altogether. But he wasn’t. And now he probably deserved this, to have a taste of you before he had to deny himself again. After what he knew he put you through he was willing to pay that price. 

*******

You stirred awake suddenly, being pulled from a dream that did not make sense into a brightly lit room. Your neatly folded pile of clothes laid on the pillow next to you. 

It took you a moment to register Frank's presence, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you, he turned his head a moment later. 

"Mornin' Han" his voice was grave, expression somber. 

"Get dressed, we gotta talk." 

Fin. 

#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #jon bernthal #jewish representation #jewish reader #x plus size reader #original character

[xuanelle]

goyim really will go out of their way to defend the mcu's bad casting to the point that they'll say being jewish doesn't matter to every character.

and like I think if you think being jewish isn't important to the guy who is literally a golem and whose character was based after his jewish creator, the jewish holocaust survivor who's experience in the holocaust radicalized him and shaped the rest of his life, the son of an orthodox rabbi who's upbringing as an orthodox jew shapes the person he grows up to be, the guy who is a reform jew and who had a jewish wedding and the girl who literally wore a star of david in her first appearance who constantly talks about how proud she is of being jewish, you should do some self reflection and realize you're just antisemitic

#kinda inspired by last post but this has been in my mind for weeks since seeing someone say marc being jewish #isn't as important as matt being catholic and said that also applied to kitty pryde somehow #for anyone who isn't a comic reader the characters r ben grimm magneto obviously marc spector billy kaplan & kitty pryde #bracken.txt

[imarvelatthestars]

Zise: (In) The Beginning

Notes: Set during X-Men: 1st Class. This is my attempt at filling the severely lacking amount of Jewish!Readers in Erik's tag.

"Zise" means a sweet person in Yiddish.

Pairings: Erik Lensherr x Jewish!Reader

Warnings: feminine language used to refer to reader

Part 2

"Curious place."

Charles glances across the taxi at his friend and smiles. "I quite like it," he muses. "The river, the hills, the trees." He cant catch Erik's eyes, but he tries anyway. "How long has it been? Since you've visited one?"

Erik's voice is smaller than he's ever heard it when he finally answers, "A very long time." But there's an unspoken implication that says it's been long enough that he simply doesn't remember anymore.

"Will you be alright, Erik?"

The taxi comes to a stop, jolting the pair forward in their seats before Erik has a chance to answer. He considers Charles and his question for a moment, but the firm line of his mouth is a clear indication that the conversation is over. Erik clambers onto the pavement while Charles pays the driver, and he can't help worrying that this visit may be difficult for Erik, that it may reawaken a slew of painful memories for his friend. He can only hope that coming here won't be a mistake.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

The bell above the door chimes as it swings open and you look up from your desk with a jerk, quickly pushing your book under the closest stack of papers. You wouldn't want anyone to think you're bored or, arguably worse, slacking off on the clock. So you greet the two visitors with a welcoming smile.

"Welcome, gentlemen. What can I do for you?"

The man on your left, a bit shorter than his companion and with a smidge more hair, offers you a charming smile. "My name is Charles Xavier and this is my friend, Erik Lensherr." His friend nods in your direction. "We're looking for a young lady, perhaps you can help us? I believe she works here."

"Of course. What's her name?"

You start to pull out a pad of paper and a pen, expecting them to ask for the rabbi's wife or the other girl who works in the office part-time and you're fully prepared to give them a phone number or address to aid their search, but instead they ask for you. By name. Your pen scratches along the pad as you look up at the man on the right, the tall one who said your name.

"That's you, isn't it?" says the shorter one, Charles. He has his forefinger pressed to his temple.

"Why?" you ask as you look between the two. You're trying your best to keep your voice as normal sounding as possible in case your nerves are getting the better of you.

Suddenly, you realize that you don't know why these men are here. You don't recognize them and they both have foreign accents. It could be nothing, but it could also be something. Something awful. This is, after all, the only shul in town and you're no stranger to threats of violence that end in shutting the whole place down for days or weeks at a time.

Charles still has his finger pressed to his temple, his eyes distant yet still focused on you. Like he's not really looking at you. The other man, Erik, is frowning slightly, eyes searching emptily for something you can't comprehend with his head tilted to one side. Then he blinks and he looks right at you, and you wilt under the intensity of his gaze.

"Please," he says as he steps toward you with an arm outstretched, "don't be alarmed." The pen in your hand wobbles, then suddenly flies up and over the desk into his waiting hand. He smiles and the pen floats back to you until it rests atop the paper. "You have a gift, like we do, and we're here to ask your help. Offer you a job."

There's a million thoughts running through your head, so fast and so loud that you can hardly wade through them. Did he actually just levitate a pen? How did he do that? Does that mean he's like you, with a secret power that manipulates the world around you? What else can he do? How could your own powers measure up to his? How did they even know about you or where to find you? Why-?

We can answer all your questions if you choose to come with us.

It's Charles, the one who keeps touching his temple. His voice is inside your head.

Charles grins and shakes his head. "We both thought so about ourselves for a very long time," he says aloud, "but there are so many more of us out there. Mutants with gifts you couldn't even begin to imagine."

"I thought I was the only one."

You frown. "Is that what we are? Mutants?"

"Yes. And we could really use your help."

This is all starting to getting a little too bizarre. It's making the vein above your eye start to tick. And what's all this about them needing your help? For what? What could you possibly have to offer a couple of strange, inexplicably gifted men?

"Why don't you show us?" Charles prompts, his voice soft and low.

With a fleeting thought somewhere along the lines of 'this might as well happen', you stand up and reach out for the vase of half wilted flowers at the edge of the desk. You focus your mind on the details of each petal, the way the leaves crimp and curl after being without water for a few days, how the stems are bent near the bottom from the force of being haphazardly shoved in, and you get to work. The familiar tingling sensation of something emanating from your soul all the way down your fingers and through the air into the flowers brings the ghost of a smile to your lips. It's been too long since you last used your abilities, long enough that you'd forgotten the bliss that came with it. When you snap out of your trance a few moments later, the stems of each flower have thickened, the leaves unfurled and now a rich shade of green, their missing petals have regrown and each bud is blossoming brilliantly and fragrantly as if they'd been picked from a greenhouse moments ago. And although you hadn't meant to, a new flower has grown in the center of the bouquet - a red rose still in the process of opening its bud.

You glance about the room to ensure that no one had entered the room and seen what you'd done. The last thing you need is for the rabbi to walk in on you performing magic tricks for visitors. But instead of the usual panic you feel after using your powers, you feel a sense of peace begin to settle in your chest. It feels good not to hide, to have your talents sought after. And when you finally find the courage to look Erik and Charles in the eyes, your face flushes with heat; they look proud, impressed, happy.

"Remarkable," says Charles.

And Erik nods. "Quite." His eyes are the bluest blue you've ever seen.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

Just an hour later, you're in your bedroom, frantically cramming your clothes, siddur, and toiletries into your suitcase while Charles and Erik chat with your parents in the living room. You keep replaying the phone call with the rabbi's wife in your head, over and over again, wondering if you've just made a terrible mistake. You'd given her a hug and a kiss on the cheek in thanks for covering the rest of your shift, and in farewell, and promised you'd explain everything soon before hurrying out of the shul hot on Erik and Charles's heels. What would she think? What would she tell her husband? What would your family and the rest of the community whisper when you didn't return on time from your mysterious visit to D.C. with the equally mysterious federal agents?

A sudden knock at your door jolts you from your downward spiral and you lift your head in time to see Erik open the door. "Pardon my intrusion, but Charles could hear you panicking." He taps a finger against his head and almost smiles. "I thought perhaps you could use some company."

From what you can tell, Erik is a kind man. Patient, observant. You appreciate it more than you feel comfortable admitting.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing to be scared of, you know. This Division X thing."

Easy for him to say, but you mostly believe him. He is, after all, just like you. Different. Both of them.

"I can't say you'll fit in very well, though."

Something hot sparks in your throat and you turn to face him, brows furrowed and your mouth already open, but he's grinning.

You huff, hands on your hips. "Why would you say that?" you demand.

Erik rubs his chin as he bites back his laughter. "Because none of the other recruits are quite as frum as you are."

The world seems to come to a halt and you're torn between frustration and shock. Why the hell is he mocking you? Where does he even find the audacity to do so in your own home? But then... how would he even know the word 'frum' if he isn't-?

"I-I didn't know you were-..." Your eyes are starting to water. "Erik, I-."

That's when you realize that he isn't mocking you, he's just teasing. Because he's Jewish. And if you could, you'd throw your arms around him and hug him within an inch of his life.

"I'm glad you're coming with us," he says, your name a pleasant ending to his sentence.

You have no idea what's in store for you, but you feel twice as brave as you did an hour ago. Division X, mutant abilities, this mysterious mission you've been recruited for, it all seems insignificant compared to the knowledge that you won't be alone anymore. Because Erik will be there too.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #magneto #x-men #marvel #jewish reader #eeik is such an intricate character and trying to get him right when you write him is..... a challenge

[ivystoryweaver]

Happy New Year, Jake

Happy Rosh Hashanah to the Moon Knight system

I haven't written enough for Jake, so he gets an impromptu story this lovely Rosh Hashanah (New Year).

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Word Count: 820

Content: Fluff, slight feelings of unworthiness, mentions of food, alters mentioned, brief reference to past trauma, mentions of religion and religious practices, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You asked Marc and Steven if you could do this.

Celebrate something with Jake.

Marc had some happy memories of holidays - Passover meals - finding the afikomen and getting a few dollars for it. The food, the wine, the prayers, the traditions.

Hanukkah wasn't quite as big of a holiday, but there were presents and dreidel to play and latkes to eat.

There were candles to light and services to attend.

Then, one day, there was no more happiness.

Steven's memories were spotty at best, but they were happy. His heart was rooted in the traditions of those before him.

But Jake had none of this. He was a shadow - a creature of the night. He had only been in your life for less than a year.

Jake was a difficult man to get to know. He preferred to keep to himself, but he was soft for you - that, he could not fight.

You didn't want to ambush him, or even surprise him. You asked his permission.

"Could...do you think we could have a little dinner for New Year's?" You asked him one night, moonlight spilling across the bed as you drew circles on his bare chest with your fingertips.

"New Year's?" He gruffed out, confused. "In September?"

"Rosh Hashanah," you supplied. "You know...the new year. If you want. I wanted to make you dinner - just something nice."

Jake's calloused hands scratched lightly down the curve of your back. "Not sure, mi vida. Better ask - "

"I did," you interrupted. "Marc's not ready yet and Steven is okay skipping this year - at least the dinner so you and I can share it. Only if that's okay with you. It doesn't have to be anything you're uncomfortable with."

The stubble of his chin tickled the skin of your cheek as he whispered back and forth with you.

"Okay. Yeah. I...I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do, but...sure."

You were excited, having hoped Jake wouldn't turn you down.

You prepared a savory meal - doing most of the work the night before. You set an elegant yet simple table, with your best dishes, a tablecloth and your grandmother's silver.

A round challah loaf sat on her silver serving platter. You prepared apples and honey to symbolize the hope for a sweet year. You also served pomegranates and some vegetables. You made some brisket for Marc to eat later. Wine glasses and water glasses were set appropriately. You were ready.

You put the finishing touches on the table just as Jake emerged from your bedroom, straightening his tie. Jake was no stranger to wearing a tie or looking absolutely dashing at any given moment.

But this was something else. Instead of his typical leather jacket, he wore a dark suit jacket. Noticing your blatant stare, he ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw.

"I think this is like a...proper dinner," he attempted, sounding a little like Steven. "This too much?"

"Jake," you breathed, floating toward him. "You look incredible." Placing your hands on his muscled chest, you leaned in and brushed your lips tenderly over his.

"Shana Tovah," you wished him, motioning for him to have a seat at the table. But he pulled you back to his side, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

As you sat down to enjoy your holiday meal, your heart burned within your chest each time Jake seemed uncertain about what exactly to do. The last thing you wanted was make him uncomfortable, or make him somehow feel less...Jewish? Than Steven or Marc.

You only desired for him to be who he was. But you wanted him to feel a part of his history too, if he was comfortable.

"You okay?" You quietly asked, watching as he dipped his apple slice into the honey.

He paused, his warm brown eyes going wide. "Did I do something wrong? Is there like a prayer?"

"Jake, you can't do anything wrong. This is for you. Just...be with me." You reached across the table and squeezed his hand, watching as his shoulders relaxed.

"This is nice, baby," he spoke up after a few minutes. Leaning in, he made sure to catch your eye. "It's really nice. Thank you...for thinking of me."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm always thinking of you."

You shared your special meal and some traditions together, feeling so warm inside and so grateful for this man of yours. When you got up from the table, he pulled you close and told you how amazing you looked.

"Gotta dress up like this again so I can take you out," he roughly whispered against your ear while holding you against him.

Easing back, you brushed your fingers along his jaw. "You mean 'take me out' a date, right? And not...your nighttime job?" You teased.

"Very funny," he mocked, scooping you up into a hug, where you stayed for a while, content in his arms.

"Happy new year, baby," he whispered, feeling like he belonged.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #holiday fic #rosh hashanah #new year #happy new year #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight system #moon knight fic #jewish holidays #oscar isaac characters