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#jake lockely x reader
l0caltiredgirl · 2 days ago
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*checks the age gap between me and my favorite actors*
also me:
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soonknight · 2 days ago
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moon knight system + their favorite nicknames for you
content: SFW w/ a little implied NSFW, romantic relationship, all moon boys x reader, nicknames/pet names/terms of endearment
S T E V E N
love, my love, sweetheart, darling, dove, angel, precious, dear, your name
The way Steven says your name makes you absolutely melt. It sounds so special, so real, when he says it. Love is his most frequently used nickname, but all the other ones he uses are soft and sweet. He adds them in his text messages too.
He calls you ma chérie to make you laugh.
M A R C
Baby, honey, sweetheart, babe, my sweet girl/boy, beautiful, gorgeous
Unlike Steven, Marc hardly ever uses your real name. There's a nickname sprinkled in every other sentence. He also manages to make each one feel absolutely filthy, which drives you crazy when you're just going about your day.
Marc imitates Steven's incessant use of adjectives (complete with bad British accent) to mess with you.
J A K E
My girl/boy, cariño (like dear or darling), babe, baby, princess/princesa, sugar, mi amor (never just amor)
Jake's nicknames are unique and amazing in any context. Like Marc, he can use them for evil very easily, but he says them like they're only meant for your ears. They're a reminder how special you are to him. He loves to make you feel loved when he does get to spend time with you.
Jake calls you random Spanish words because you don't know what they mean. Once, he called you mi impresora, and it stuck. You thought it meant "my precious," until he laughed and told you it meant printer.
thanks for reading! leave some asks, I need ideas! <3
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paperweightshopp · a day ago
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I miss them every day n night 😭
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sgt-morgan · 2 days ago
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Pause/ Play
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Description: Steven is the sweetest man alive, and he always endeavors to make you feel special, but sometimes he can’t take a hint.
Warnings: None! Fluff central over here.
A/N:Wanted some fluff, made some fluff. There you have it.
🌘🌔🌒
Steven is of the talkative sort. He’s a nervous rambler. It’s as if silence makes his skin crawl, which makes sense to you, the void in your head is scary, and you’re not a vigilante. So, the filler talk doesn’t bother you. In fact, you find Steven’s version of filler noise to be really endearing.
His filler is always full of interesting factoids, and a passion for knowledge that you didn’t fully understand. He knew a little bit about everything, Archeology and Ancient Egypt being his prime focus, but it was as if he soaked up every piece of information he thought might be interesting to you.
“Did you know love, that The Beatles got the idea for their name from Buddy Holly and the crickets? Yeah, John Lennon loved the insect thing and puns so Beetles became Beat-les and the rest is history!”
“Did you know that Keanu Reeves does most of his own fight Choreo in John Wick? I wouldn’t wanna fight him in the open, yeesh!”
“Darling? Did you know, that light roast coffee has more caffeine that dark roast? It’s cause when they roast the beans, the longer they roast the beans, the more caffeine they roast out! I bought us a light roast this week to try!”
It always flowed out of him like a fountain, a wealth of knowledge. You loved learning all those little things, you loved that he was reading up on your interests in order to make conversation. It was precious. Every little thing he said made you wanna kiss him. The problem was, you didn’t like to interrupt. You didn’t want Steven to think his knowledge wasn’t valuable to you, so you usually just waited for gaps in conversation.
Today, Steven had out done himself on his little factoid mission. He had taken you, on a wine tasting. You were very excited, any amount of time spent with Steven was worth having, especially when there was good food and good booze to be had. In true Steven fashion, he was a wealth of knowledge. It’s like he had become a Sommelier over night. Each glass and snack pairing they handed you, he would listen patiently as the wine taster talked about tannins and whatever, then he would look at you with his breathtaking smile, hand you a glass, and would whisper a little fact to you while you drank and commented on the wine.
“Darling,” he said as the server handed him your first glass of the evening “did you know, that the tradition of drinking to one’s health started in Ancient Greece?” He smiled, thumbing a bit of your smudged lipstick from your mouth as he handed you the snack that went with the glass you were splitting. “Typically, a host would stand and take a drink before the rest of the guests, in order to prove that the wine was not poisoned.” He laughed, tilted the glass towards you in a salute, and pointedly took the first sip, “so, to your health darling, if it’s poisoned, avenge me!” He whispered conspiratorially as you giggled into your first sip, savoring the wine and the company. You had hoped he would give you a kiss to seal in all the good health luck, but no luck, he was currently telling you about the Roman tradition of ‘toasting’ and you were helpless to his charm.
“Ooh! See that one over there?” Steven chuckled pointing to the bottle you were about to drink, it had a little fox on it, “That one is special, that one is actually called a critter wine!” He chuckled as the server handed him a glass of said wine, “For some reason, when there is a little animal on the bottle, they get a special name, adorable innit?” You looked at him as if he had hung the moon, and muttered ‘you’re adorable.’hoping he would get the hint and kiss you already. Instead, he chuckled at your enthusiasm and kept telling you about the critter wine. He was not catching the hint.
“Oh, love? Have I ever told you the myth of Dionysus and Ariadne?” Steven said as you both sat at your table in the corner, sipping on a glass of your favorite wine in the tasting. At this point, you had learned about the oldest wine on record (some bottle from 200 AD or so in Germany), The oldest wine cellar on record (surprisingly? The Titanic, most bottles were still intact!), and the fear of wine (oenophobia). What you hadn’t learned, was what Steven’s wine soaked lips tasted like at this very second, and by the Gods you were going to find out.
“Pause!” Steven had just started his story when you held up your hand and ground him to a halt, “My love, I love your stories and I have had the time of my life listening to you talk this evening, but I am going to literally pass away if I don’t kiss you right now!” You explained giggling, slightly tipsy. You watched as a mirthful confusion took over his features, before you grabbed the sides of his face and smashed his lips to your own with vigor. At first he was startled, flailing his arms momentarily before settling them on your waist. After releasing him with a loud ‘mwah!’ Steven finally clued into what Marc and Jake had been trying to tell him all evening from the reflections of your wine glasses.
“Oye Papi! They think your brain es muy guapo, hombrecito!” Jake chuckled in the back of his mind.
“Yeah Steven! They’ve been eyeing your mouth all night, and if you quizzed them on your every fact, I think they would ace it!” Marc chimed in with a teasing laugh.
Steven stuttered for a second, looking at you with wide love struck eyes, as he fumbled to find the words for the way his heart swelled. He landed on a bemused, exasperated, huff of laughter as you sat there giggling at him. “Sorry darling! I didn’t want to be rude!” You apologized through love drunk giggles. With the look on his face, you couldn’t resist and kissed him again. “Play!” You said miming a clicker on a remote and leaning forward on your palms. “You can finish!” You nodded encouragingly.
Steven felt his heart swell six sizes as he fought to contain his laughter. You were truly still invested in his stupid stories, they meant the world to him, and all this time he hoped they meant the world to you, and in this moment he knew they did. For all the world, he counted himself the luckiest man in the universe to be witnessing the glimmer of love and fascination that shone in your eyes. “Something about pirates, Theseus, and Dolphins, the end c’mere!” He laughed raucously and pulled you squealing into his embrace, smothering you in affection.
Somewhere far away from this happy scene, Konshu sat in his corner of the sky, where he liked to do his watching. He normally sat guarding over the travelers of the night, but tonight he was watching something different. Tonight, he watched the worm. Steven Grant, was sat in a restaurant with his lover, and they were in their own little bubble. Konshu witnessed as their love infected the moods of the others around them, witnessed as the elderly couple at the table next to them smiled and held hands a little tighter, reminiscing about their young love. He watched as the Sommelier smiled and rolled an old, faded, silver ring around his left ring finger, reminiscing about his deceased partner. He saw as a woman on a failure of a date, with a man who shamelessly flirted with their waitress, rekindled the hope that there may actually be love out there for her. Through this one act of love, Konshu watched, and he was slowly reminded why he cared so much about these humans anyway. He cared, because the smallest acts of kindness, vigorously renewed their most valuable trait of all, hope. Konshu watched, and in his watching decided maybe, just maybe, the worm wasn’t half bad.
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ohwowimlonley · a day ago
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🫧I’m pickle Rick!!!🫧
As much as Marc says he hates being tied up, it’s it favourite thing. He loves the way you make him whimper and the way you touch him when you’re topping because sometimes that man needs a break. Jake on the other other hand loves to fuck you into oblivion and lives to fuck you so hard that you’re crying
Marc hates it when you he can’t touch you. He absolutely hates it. But maybe that’s why he loves it so much. He loves the struggle he puts up against the pretty ropes you tie in bows around his wrists. He loves the angry redness that he evokes from pulling against the restraints, how it decorates his skin for the days after.
“Tighter,” he’d demand, cringing at his own neediness and averting his gaze from you because he doesn’t like it. He loves it. And he hates that. But when you tie the knot more firmly around his wrists, he’d let out the most beautiful moan, “yes, yes that’s better,”
Jake, however, is the opposite. He wouldn’t necessarily tie you up, per se, but he is definitely much more in control than Marc is with you. Jake loves to see how helpless you become under his smallest touch, how you scream and tremble with just his fingers.
He thrives off your reactions. Sometimes, he’d go for hours without even cumming himself just to watch you squirm. He could go days without letting you cum, or doing so himself because he just adores the tears that gather in your eyes as you beg, “please, daddy! I wanna cum! I’ll be such a good girl I promise!”
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fanfictionworthreading · a month ago
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egcdeath · a month ago
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love in bloom
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pairing: jake lockley x reader
summary: every saturday morning jake brings you to the farmer’s market, and every saturday morning, you leave him a flower.
word count: 3k
warnings: SO much fluff, domesticity, meanings of flowers straight from the internet, jake is an uber driver because this is my story i can use whatever plot devices i want to, a hint of angst if you squint, very soft jake, very smitten jake, khonshu has a little cameo 
author’s note: this fic is based off of this post i made a few days ago. we all need more soft jake in our lives, and less evil alter bs so i hope this fic fills that void for you all <3
Jake’s life was busy.
His mind and schedule were constantly cluttered whenever he happened to be fronting, whether it was whatever ‘chore’ Khonshu needed him to do that day, or the never ending amounts of rideshare requests that seemed to pile up on him. 
But you were a welcome element of his busy routine, one that he didn’t really mind at all. (One might even argue that he looked forward to seeing your name on the top of the endless queue of requests.) Every Saturday, around 9:30, you popped up on his phone, requesting a trip down to Union Square Greenmarket—what Jake had come to learn was your favorite farmers market in the whole city. 
Jake had met a lot of people in his line of work. He even had a handful of regulars that often found themselves asking to go to the same location— bars, work, or even concert venues, but you were just different. From the moment you sat down in the back of his car, tucked your flowing sundress behind you before reaching for your seat belt, and made an off handed comment about the ‘new car smell’ of the vehicle, he was smitten. It was silly to think he could fall so quickly, but as soon as he glanced into the rearview mirror and caught you beaming back at him, he swore he heard his heart sing. 
And his heart orchestra only crescendoed when you’d somehow managed to request his vehicle for your journey back home, with him around the area having just dropped another person off and you finishing up your shopping. It was undoubtedly fate. (At least that’s what Steven, ever the romantic, told him as he caught his reflection on a door’s mirror.)
You slipped into the same seat once more, did that little move with your dress, and smiled up at your driver. 
“Long time no see,” you teased, that adorable grin on your face. 
Smitten was an understatement. 
Jake listened intently as you went on about your favorite breads and honey that he just had to try because it is just leagues better than that stuff at the store. And healthier for you! And you know what’s leagues better than the stuff at the store there? Tomatoes. You don’t like tomatoes?! What about soup? There’s a company there that sells these soup mixes that are just too good. Their soup with that bread? A match made in heaven. 
“Thank you for listening to me ramble,” you giggled with an undertone of embarrassment as he approached your apartment building. 
“I liked listening to all of your recommendations. I might have to go back and grab some of those pickles you mentioned earlier.”
“They’re really good. You’ll love ‘em,” you hummed. “Thanks for the ride, Jake,” you opened your wallet and set down a twenty on his middle console. “Maybe I’ll even see you next weekend?”
“I’ll keep my schedule open,” he smiled softly, trying to keep any sort of longing expression from his face as you began to get out of his car, gathering up an absurd amount of reusable bags before exiting the vehicle. 
Jake glanced back at your seat after you’d closed the door, and found one lone daffodil on his seat, one that you must’ve dropped from one of your many bags on your way out. Jake rolled down a window and called out for you, and you attentively turned around. 
“You left a flower in here! Let me grab it for you,” he offered. 
“No, don’t!” you called back. “It‘s a gift for you. I left it on purpose, like an extra tip.”
The cellist in Jake’s heart orchestra was playing so aggressively that his bow broke. He was going to have to find a more intense word than smitten.
You quickly became part of Jake’s weekend routine; dish out some of Khonshu’s good-old-fashioned justice Friday evening, then up and at ‘em Saturday morning, finding himself at your place at 9:30 AM sharp for your weekly trip to the market. 
You seemed to be a fan of gifts, bringing him a coffee from Starbucks (black, for the record) after inquiring about his coffee preferences the week prior, offering him samples of overpriced vegan jerkies, and whiffs of chic beeswax candles. And of course, there were the flowers. 
A different flower every weekend, and typically just the one, just for Jake. 
“Hydrangeas mean unity and togetherness,” you explained as you gently set the stem in the palm of his hand. “I know we only see each other once a week, but I would consider us friends. It doesn’t get much more united than that. Well-“ you cut yourself off, but the damage was done. 
“The sunflower means adoration and loyalty… but it mostly just matches my dress today,” you gestured to your clothing. “But I’m loyal to your Uber service. Don’t tell anyone else, but you’re my favorite,” you winked. “See you next weekend, Jake Lockley.”
“Daisies are gorgeous, but they represent simplicity and good fortune. I’m fortunate to have you in my life because you make my Saturday mornings much more simple. Especially considering you just pick me up now without me even having to get onto that app. You need to stop doing that, by the way. You deserve compensation for driving through this hellish traffic.” It may have been true, but Jake didn’t mind. Taking you to and from the market was more of a treat for him than actual work. He still graciously accepted the flower and tried not to have too obvious hearts in his eyes as you rang yourself back into your building. 
You truly made his Saturday mornings, with your long-winded rambles on the best items at the farmers market, or your giggled out gossip about your elderly neighbors and drama between stands at the market, and of course, those damn flowers. 
It was yet another Saturday morning, after a rather exhausting Friday night with Khonshu. Jake was looking forward to nothing more than seeing your smiling face as you carried two cups of the newest brew you were swearing by, yet, it was 9:35 and you were nowhere to be seen. While this wasn’t completely unheard of for you, it was strange to be five minutes behind. But it was more than possible that Jake was overreacting and you had woken up a little late, or spent a little extra time getting ready. However, 9:35 had turned into 9:45, then 9:55, and something felt extremely off. 
Twenty minutes late was completely out of character for you, the ever punctual woman. Jake checked his phone to see if you’d requested a later time, but despite his incessant scrolling, you were nowhere to be found. 
Jake’s stomach churned as he turned his car off and approached your building, making up an excuse to one of your neighbors he’d previously heard you mention to get inside, then knocking on the door of your apartment, the one he’d helped bring bags up to when you’d overdo it at the market. 
Despite his knocking, you were nowhere to be found, and the pit in his stomach only seemed to drop further. 
Maybe you were already at the market, and Jake had nothing to be concerned about. Jake leaned into the gas on his way there, narrowly avoiding a few accidents in his fervorous search for you. Jake swore he left no rock unturned as he searched for you, asking around for you at booths he knew you were a regular at, and letting his mind roam for maybe a few too moments long at the flower booth.
Maybe this was payback for all of the terrible things he’d been doing in Khonshu’s name. Maybe a vengeful widow or orphan had been tailing him for weeks, putting a target on the woman he’d come to love. Jake marched back to his car, swallowing his fear and anger just long enough to make it back into the semi-private haven of his vehicle so he could release some of his wrath on the old bird who got him into this mess. 
“Where is she?” Jake questioned as the deity manifested himself in his back seat. 
“Why would I know,” he countered casually. 
“If something happened to her, the deal is off,” Jake practically hissed. 
“That’s not how this works, Jake Lockley.”
“It is now,” he hissed. “I went behind their backs for you. I’ve done unspeakable things for you. What have you done for me lately?” 
“I gave you the gift of life. What more could you ever want?” 
“I want to know what happened to her,” Jake began to reach over to the glove compartment, and glanced back at the god, the implication of his action clear to both men. 
Khonshu sighed exasperatedly, “Fine. Love is not a good look on you, Jake Lockley. I can ask around about her, and that’s it,” he seemed to be done for a moment. “I do not apologize for whatever her fate may be.”
Before Jake could scold the bird once more, he had seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving Jake with only his increasingly worried thoughts.
As the day continued, Jake continued his wild goose chase of a search for you throughout the city, checking out pedestrians to see if you were out and about, and refreshing the request page of his rideshare app every few minutes to see if by some chance you would reach out to him, yet all of his searches were in vain.
Jake had just finished dropping off tourists at Broadway when he received a rather interesting notification– one with your name attached to it. 
You seemed to be at an apartment complex just a few blocks away, and in need of a ride back home, despite your home certainly being in walking distance. That was more than doable for Jake, considering he would swim across the Atlantic just to make sure that you were okay. A few blocks was nothing. 
But a few blocks was feeling more and more like thousands of miles as Jake attempted to get to you, the ten minute ride feeling like hours. Yet it was somehow all worth it when he saw your silhouette wave familiarly at him from the sidewalk. The man let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and you slipped into the back of his car as you always did, radiant energy following you. 
“Hi Jake. Sorry about missing our Saturday morning routine,” you apologized as you strapped yourself into your seat.”My friend asked me to watch her cat at the last minute, so I’ve been cat-and-house-sitting for the past few days.” 
“You don’t have to apologize,” Jake glanced up at you from the rearview mirror, and he swore his heart almost lurched out of his chest. “Not walking tonight?”
“My legs are tired from playing with the kitten all day… And I guess I just wanted to see you,” you glanced out the window as you spoke, possibly embarrassed from your casual admission.
The orchestra in Jake’s chest was back, and in full force. That was probably the most romantic thing that anyone had said to him… ever, really. And it wasn’t even inherently romantic. 
Jake was silent for just a beat too long as he processed your words before admitting, “My Saturday was feeling incomplete without seeing you. I missed my flower.”
“And I missed delivering your flower fact,” you added, glancing up and catching his eye in the rearview mirror. “And catching you up on everything at the market.”
“Mmm,” Jake hummed, focusing his energy on the road, and not on how much he wanted to go on about how he missed you.
“How ‘bout I make it up to you next weekend?” you offered as Jake pulled up to your apartment building. “We can go to the market, and I can actually show you the places I tell you about. I mean, only if you want to.”
“I would love to!” Jake replied, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Next Saturday at 9:30?”
“Mhm,” you confirmed with a hum. “It’s a date,” you said as you cracked the door open.
Before Jake could even stutter out a flustered response, you were gone.
Jake spent a frankly embarrassing amount of time getting ready in the morning, going through a ridiculous amount of clothing to find the perfect outfit that said ‘farmer’s market’, and ‘boyfriend material’ at the same time. He was nearly late coming to pick you up, but he somehow managed to be by your curbside at the time he always was, and there you were, looking as jubilant as ever.
“Morning, Jake,” you chime before passing him a muffin that he could only assume you baked yourself. “I’m so excited to show you everything. All the samples and people you’re gonna meet… It’s gonna be great.”
Your rambling was extra ramble-y that morning, and it was somewhat comforting to know that you were in the same boat of nerves as he was. By the time you arrived at the market, you had talked enough to have Jake’s ear fall off, but it was oddly endearing. As soon as you parked, Jake made quick work of opening your door, and gently taking your hand as you exited the vehicle, as if you were some celebrity at a high class event.
“You are single handedly keeping chivalry alive, Jake Lockley,” you teased, eliciting a hearty laugh out from the both of you.
Your hands remained dangerously close as you approached the market, with your fingertips occasionally even brushing each other’s. A comfortable silence loomed over the two of you for a moment before you grabbed Jake’s hand out of the blue, and began to pull him in the direction of a booth filled with cheeses.
Right when he thought you couldn’t get any more adorable, there you were walking him through the best cheeses, catching up with the owner of the booth like you were old friends, and gently feeding him pieces of cheese. 
“Good, right?” you asked as Jake chewed. 
“It’s really good,” he echoed back, completely sure he was looking at you with ginormous, cartoon heart eyes, but he was far too infatuated to care. 
“Mhm,” you grinned back at him. “We’ll be back later to pick some up. Jake knows all about the time I had warm cheese. Nothing personal Jen, I just don’t think food poisoning starts a date off on a good foot.”
Jake felt like he was going to melt through the floor, even more so when you wrapped your arms around one of his and began to usher him around the rest of the market. 
For about an hour, Jake followed you like a lost, lovesick puppy as you introduced him to your favorite companies, products, and even friends. You brought him samples, got him discounts, and even bought him the occasional snack. He swore that he had never felt so comfortable and at peace than watching you just… be you at one of your favorite places. 
“We should do this again next weekend,” you said as you evaluated packages of strawberries. “If you’re not busy?” 
There you were, asking him out again. He’d be a fool to say no, but he’d also be a fool to let you keep making all the romantic(?) gestures. He didn’t want you to think that this was something one-sided when he somehow found a way to fall for you harder with every moment you spent together. 
“We should,” he agreed, cringing at the fact that he did not make even one romantic proposition or gesture, as he’d planned to do. 
You looked back at him and gave a soft little smile. Jake had seen all sorts of extreme things in his line of work, yet somehow, you were the only thing that managed to make him lightheaded.
You were deep in conversation with the woman at your beloved bread stand, both of you excitedly gesturing with your hands and presumably catching up on the week where you hadn’t seen each other. As much as he loved watching you, a bright pop of color caught Jake’s eye from his peripheral vision.
The flower stand.
That chance at a grand romantic gesture might have been closer in reach than he thought. Jake excused himself from the booth as you continued chatting with your friend, and he made quick work of getting to the florist. 
“Hi, do you have any flowers that represent love? Not roses or anything. But any other flower that means love.”
Jake approached you as you were heading out of the bread booth to presumably find him.
“Perfect timing,” you hummed then glanced down at his fist which was currently clutching a bouquet of red tulips so hard that his knuckles were turning white. “Oooh, what did you get?” you asked with genuine curiosity. 
“Well, I actually didn’t get them for me,” he inhaled, trying to find the courage to say what he wanted to say. You always get me such thoughtful gifts and it all started with those flowers and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it’s a little overwhelming and a little scary and I really hope you like these and know what they mean but I also hope you don’t know what they mean because maybe I read this all wrong.
Instead, what came out was, a simple, “they’re for you,” as he gently passed the bouquet to you. Your eyes were slightly… watery? as he gave you the bouquet, and you were quiet for a moment as you looked them over. 
“They’re lovely, Jake,” you practically cooed. “I love them.”
You completely caught him off guard when you got on the tips of your toes and gently pecked his cheek.
All at once, Jake’s heart orchestra played again. 
-
author’s note ii: in my head in this au jake calls the reader mariposa & one day they grow a vegetable garden together than u for coming to my ted talk
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grantspectortrash · 20 days ago
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Sleep With Me, Anytime
Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader (with hints of: Marc Spector x Reader and Jake Lockley x Reader)
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Summary: You and Steven live opposite each other and have been dating for a couple of weeks. One night you sleep at Steven’s during a storm. You get to meet Marc and Jake.
This is the 3rd and final part to the Suited and Booted series. Part 1 is here, and part 2 is here!
Warnings/Tags: No warnings. Fluff, forehead kisses, sleeping in the same bed, mentions of all 3 Moon Boys, just cute shit :)
Word Count: 3K
A/N: Credit to justoscarisaac for the GIF. It's beautiful. This fic is a personal favourite of mine, but as always if I’ve portrayed anything incorrectly please call me out on it so I can fix it!
If anyone has any requests let me know because I would LOVE to write them!
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Outside a storm is raging. It’s past midnight, with the moon high in the sky, and you haven't slept a wink. You've been tossing and turning for a few hours now, and nothing is working.
Every clap of thunder makes you jump and each and every bolt of lightning makes you squeeze your eyes tight, almost as if if you couldn’t see it then it wouldn’t scare you.
But your tactics aren't working. You feel scared and alone.
So, you distract yourself. You decide to think about your boyfriend, Steven Grant.
You think about the past two weeks and everything that's happened, and how happy it's made you. You go over everything Steven told you after your date at the quiz night. He had promised you that he would explain everything about himself, and he had. The pair of you had sat on your sofa, and Steven’s life was revealed to you.
“You see, I’m not alone in this body. I uh- it’s a identity disorder, see? Technically I’m not even the original. I’m an alter. But I’m still me, still a real person. Still Steven.”
Steven’s explanation made sense. You had heard him in his apartment talking to other people, even though he lived alone. You asked him then, who were the other alters? How many of them were there? You wanted to understand, to finally figure out the life of Steven Grant. He had frowned.
“You don’t think of me differently, do you? Knowing that I’m not just…me? We all have the same brain, kind of. We all have the same body.”
“And so, do you all like me?” The question had slipped out before you had time to stop yourself.
Steven had chuckled, a little. He cocked his head to one side slightly, as if listening to a song far away. You couldn’t hear anything.
“Yes. That’s kind of the number one rule. We all have to agree on someone, you know, that we all like. There’s me, obviously. Then there’s Marc, he’s the original. His last name is Spector. And then there’s Jake. Jake Lockley.”
You had stayed silent for a little while, trying to take in the information. It was hard to process the fact there was three of them, and they all liked you.
“Right, so you’re the only one who…who fronts, then? Or is it like you all are there at once? Have I met Marc, or Jake?”
At that point Steven had explained how fronting worked. He explained who Marc was and what his job was. You had pulled away slightly at the word mercenary, and Steven had no choice but to tell you the whole story. He told you about Khonshu. And after everything, after Steven’s love for Egypt and the way he seemed so strong as well as smart, the fact he was a host for a god seemed believable. You believed Steven, and he couldn’t believe it.
“I know it’s a lot. And I promise I’m not making it up, that would be weird. I just want you to know the truth. And if you don’t want to know me after this, I get it. I really do.”
A rumble of thunder disturbs you from your thoughts, making you nearly jump out of your bed. You don’t want to bother Steven, he had enough issues to be worrying about without your irrational fear of storms being added to the list.
But, you can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t stop thinking about being wrapped in his arms, feeling safe and protected.
The pair of you hadn’t shared a bed yet, you hadn’t even done more than making out and holding hands on dates. Not that you minded. But right now all you want is to be in his arms, in his bed, knowing that you have someone to ride the storm out with.
You slip out of bed, flinching at every lightning strike, and find your slippers and keys. You’re wearing shorts and a tee, standard pyjamas by any means, and you don’t care if Steven sees you in them. You just want him.
You pad across the hall and knock on the door. If he’s asleep, and doesn’t answer, you’ll just go back and try to watch something on the telly instead. But deep down, you’re hoping that you knocked loud enough to wake him up.
The door opens and you’re surprised to see Steven looks wide awake. When he realises it’s you at his door, his demeanour relaxes and he pulls you into a hug.
“Y/N you okay? What’s wrong, love?”
He pulls away from you, all worried with scrunched up eyebrows and a pouty lip. He’s wearing an oversized jumper and baggy sweatpants. His feet are bare, which makes you think he might have been asleep, but the look on his face suggests he hasn’t been sleeping at all.
“The storm, I can’t sleep. I was wondering if maybe I could stay with you? But, only if that’s okay?”
Steven quickly glances behind him, and you suddenly realise you've never been in Steven's apartment before. It's always you at his, and you've only ever hung out outside of Steven's apartment before a date while you waited for him.
You can’t see what he’s looking at, and you think he’s going to turn you away and say you can't come in, but when he looks back at you he’s smiling.
"Oh, love. Come in, yeah? Good thing I was awake. I uh-" Steven pauses as you step into his apartment. The layout is identical to yours, but Steven's flat is way more lived in. There's stacks upon stacks of books all around the apartment, some on bookshelves and some rising up in wobbly towers from the floor. There's lamps on all around the apartment, giving it a warm and cosy feel, even though the storm is still raging outside. Somehow though, just by being with Steven, it doesn't seem to bother you as much.
There's a goldfish tank at the far end of the room, and there's maps and Egyptian posters plastered all over the walls and, just like the layout of your apartment, Steven's bedroom is on show. But it's much different to yours...
There's sand all around the bed, and some sort of restraint is tied to a pole at the end of the bed.
"It's not uh, not a sex thing. Promise." Steven shuts the door behind you and scoots over to his bed, shoving the restraint under it. "Before I figured everything out about Marc and Jake, I thought - well I thought I was losing my mind - but I thought it was a sleeping disorder. I haven't got rid of it because it's kind of, habit? I don't know. Sorry."
Steven is babbling, flattening out his bedsheets and trying to tidy the place up while you stare at him. You think it's cute, the way he gets flustered around you. You take a step closer to him, and take his hand.
"You don't have to apologise Steven. It's alright. Is that why you haven't wanted me to come over before?"
Steven shakes his head, "No no no, Y/N, I've wanted you to come round. I've just...not had the balls to ask."
He squeezes your hand and leads you to his bed, where you both sit down.
"Anyway, you're here now. The storm's scaring you, huh?" Steven brushes a hand through your hair, coming to rest his hand against your cheek. You move to kiss his palm.
"I hate them. And I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to disturb you, but the thought of sleeping with you just seemed so much better than sleeping alone."
Steven moves his hand away from your face, bringing it down to meet your hand. He blushes at your words, but he’s no longer seems ashamed of the affect you have on him. He wears his reddening cheeks with pride.
"You know I'd do anything for you, love. You can sleep with me anytime." His words are sweet, but as soon as he says them his eyes widen, "I mean like, in my bed. Not like sleeping together together, you know? Well, maybe. If you wanted."
You shut Steven up by laughing. Even the rumble of thunder doesn't make you jump. Instead, you pull Steven in for a kiss. "I know what you're trying to say. It's okay." You pause, "Why were you up anyway?"
Steven's blush has gone down, and his expression becomes more serious. "Khonshu. There's a mission. The lads are trying to plan something."
Steven glances at the mirror on his wall, and you follow his gaze. You know he's talking to himself, either Marc or Jake has something to say. You want to say hello, even though you can't see what Steven's seeing. You wish you could meet them.
"Oh. Right. Scary stuff then?"
Steven looks back at you, and a fork of lightning flashes in the window behind him. You jump a little, and Steven puts an arm around you.
"Let's not worry about that now, yeah? Why don't you get in bed? I'll turn out the lights."
You do as he says.
His sheets are soft and his pillows smell like him and you feel like you're in the midst of one big Steven hug. He goes about, turning off the light's one by one until it's just the bedside lamp left. His bare feet patter against the floor before he slinks into bed next to you.
"Shall I turn this light off, love?"
He turns to you, propped up in the bed on his elbows, and you drink in the sight. Suddenly, the storm doesn't even seem so bad. All you care about is Steven.
You scan him, looking at his perfect curls and kissable lips. His kind eyes and his gorgeous, goofy smile. You nod, and the light goes off.
It takes you a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, and while you do all you can here is Steven getting comfy beside you. You're on your side, facing him, and when your eyes adjust you realise he's facing you too.
You can feel his breath on your cheek and when a flash of lightning illuminates the room, Steven smiles at you.
"Hi." He whispers, as if just because it's dark now he has to be quiet. It makes you smile.
"Hi." You say back. You're aware of his body heat beside you, but there's a distance between you and none of your body is touching his. You reach an arm out and put it against his chest.
He reacts by shuffling closer, and puts an arm on your waist. Your pyjama top has risen up slightly and Steven makes contact with your skin. It makes your brain tingle with delight.
"So," you say, trying to distract yourself, "When you say the lads are planning something, does that involve you?"
Steven's rubbing slow circles against your skin with his thumb, and it's the most soothing thing you've ever experienced. You start moving your fingers against his chest, rubbing the fabric of his sweater.
"Yeah, yeah. It involves me. I'm 1 out of 3 of the protector of the night, you know?"
There's a joking tone in his voice, and you're aware he's trying to make the situation lighter than it actually is. You almost laugh, because you realise now you're both whispering to one another about a very serious topic of conversation.
“So, you’ll have to go soon, then? To deal with…whatever the mission is?”
"Yeah. It's okay though. I've got the suit. I've got Marc and Jake. They'll have my back and we'll be home to you in no time." Steven moves his hand from your waist to stroke your cheek again.
"The suit?"
"Yeah. The ceremonial suit of armour from Khonshu's temple. Although my suit isn't like Marc or Jake's, mine's sharp and has style, you know? I did say to you that I'm suited and booted sometimes." Steven chuckles to himself and you smile. You've never seen the suit, but the way Steven describes it makes you believe you'd find him sexy in it.
But your mind isn't fully focused on that. Your mind keeps replaying something he said only moment's again
"Hold on. What did you say? You said we'll be back to me in no time. As in, all three of you. Like, like-"
"Love, I did say to you we all have feelings for you. We all want to come home to you after this mission. You're what keeps us going."
At Steven's words you subconsciously move closer. You move your leg on top of his and he shifts. He's on his back and now you're hugging him like a koala on a tree. Neither of you say anything, because neither of you mind. Your heart is racing.
"That's the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me." You tilt your head upwards to look at Steven, who's already looking at you. Thunder and lighting go off at once, suggesting the storm is close, but it doesn't matter to you. You take one look at Steven and kiss him, hard. One of his hands is playing with your hair, and the other is resting on your hip.
When you pull away, there's a thought lodged in your brain.
"Can I meet them? Jake and Marc? Only for a minute or two, only if that's okay? Can you do that, at will?"
Steven goes silent, and you're worried you've pushed your boundaries. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.
"Yes. Yeah. They...they'd like that. Are you okay with that? Try to think of it as me, but different. If you like them too, I won't be mad. If you want, it'll be like three boyfriends in one." Steven plants a kiss on your forehead, and you practically melt under his touch. The idea of being the girlfriend to all three alters makes you sweat, and your excitement has fully outweighed your fear of the storm.
"Okay." You whisper, " Let's do it. Please."
You're not sure what to expect, you know they'll look the same so it doesn't matter that the room is dark, but you don't know if they'll sound the same or act the same. You're not sure if you should move off of him or not, when something happens.
Something passes through Steven, and you feel the change immediately. The grip on your hip is slightly tighter and his body tenses slightly. You look up at him and it's the same guy, but different. In the dim light you can see his jaw is more set, and his eyes don't quite hold the same, soft glow as Steven does. But he's still drop dead gorgeous.
"Hey, Y/N. How's Steven's babygirl doing?" You do not expect the American accent that come's out of his mouth. He too is whispering, but he sounds much more confident. You're blushing at his word choice - babygirl - and you can't help but giggle.
"Oh, okay. Listen to you." His voice is full of satire and there's a smug smirk on his lips as he looks down at you. He's loving every second of how flustered you are. "I'm Marc, by the way."
First introductions are usually followed by a handshake, but instead Marc just pulls you closer to him so that your head rests on his chest and the hand on your hip moves to snake around you.
"Is this okay? Are you comfortable with this?" He whispers into your ear and if you were standing, your knees would have buckled.
Steven was sexy in his own goofy, lovable way. But Marc was next level. And in a weird way, after what Steven said, you didn't even feel like you were cheating. This all felt totally normal, as if you had spent just as much time with Marc as you had with Steven. You guess, in a way, you had.
"This is good." You don't want to look at Marc because you know you'll blush.
"Steven says he knew you'd love me as much as you love him." You can hear the smile in Marc's voice. He's started rubbing your scalp, your hair intertwined in his fingers. Then, Marc laughs. "Steven also says he doesn't mean love like love. What an idiot. I know the pair of you are taking it slow and haven't said that just yet but, by the way, it's obvious."
You look up at Marc this time, totally distracted by the way he's playing with your hair, and he winks at you. Although meeting Marc is exciting, and it's all very surreal, you're slowly getting sleepy. Your body's relaxed against Marc's and you stare at him through a happy, sleepy gaze.
"You wanna sleep soon, huh? Wanna meet Jake first?"
"Mhmh. Sure." You're nearly falling asleep. Your eyes droop and shoot back open, trying to stay awake.
"We'll make it quick, sleepy girl." Marc leans over to kiss your forehead.
You don't notice when he changes to Jake. But he doesn't disturb your sleepiness. He simply snuggles closer to you, resisting all his sexual urges, and holds you closer as you begin to drift off to sleep.
"Sleep well, princesa. I'll get my time with you yet. Guess I'm the lucky one who gets to watch you sleep."
Jake's words fall into the void, and you're asleep.
He watches over you all night, protectively cuddling you and brushing hair out of your face. Before morning comes, he switches back to Steven, who plans on sleeping for a couple of hours before you wake up. Jake has done Steven a favour by taking off the sweatshirt, and now he's shirtless beside you. Steven's nervous about it, but Jake gives him the confidence he needs. As Steven settles down, and you subconsciously cuddle into him, he whispers one last time.
"We're so lucky. So bloody lucky."
The boys agree.
---
taglist: @later-gators12 @alicetweven @bristark616 @toracainz @dopeqff @insomniacfigure @allthingsvicf @leh2393
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gothamcafe · 20 days ago
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Imagine Marc and Steven arguing over who gets to have the first kiss.
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Title: Fifth Times the Charm
Summary: You're trying to figure out why your lovely boyfriends Marc and Steven haven't kissed you yet.
Word count: ~1800
Warnings: Possible Moon Knight spoilers if you haven't seen it all, just fluff otherwise. Not really beta read lmao
Timeline: Sometime after season 1, no mention of anything in the series or Layla and Khonshu. Legit just domestic fluff/humour.
The header below just signifies a change in POV, not a time gap.
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You'd been seeing them for over a month and neither of them had made any kind of move on you. You'd leaned in a few times on different dates, thinking that the moment was just right to have your first kiss but both Marc and Steven seemed oblivious to your intent and turned away, attention caught by a noise or movement nearby. After the first couple of tries you shrugged it off and figured they wanted to take things slow--this was new territory for all of you.
But twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, what makes four?
Rejection. At least that's how it felt when you'd reached up to cup Stevens face and finally meet his lips with yours and he leapt from your couch mumbling something about needing to use the restroom.
You slumped your shoulders and crossed your arms, sinking further into the cushions as you heard him turn the water on. You checked your breath by breathing into your hand, pressed your fingertips to your cheeks to make sure there was no stray food somehow left from dinner, and found everything was fine.
So why the HELL wouldn't either of them kiss you?
You stood, hands in fists at your side as you worked up the courage to ask the boys outright what was going on. If they didn't like physical touch they could tell you, you'd be fine with it--and it would make everyone more comfortable than you constantly missing kisses like some Bugs Bunny antagonist.
You moved to the bathroom door, knowing full well that Steven was just hiding in there with the sink on. But before you could knock you heard him speaking in hushed tones.
"We've got to figure this out now!" he hissed. A pause. "They've already tried twice tonight, they're going to think we hate them!"
Another pause.
"No," Steven said, "I will not give you the body; this is my date. They invited me over for a movie night and I-I think that means that I should get to be the one to...to..."
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"Kiss," Marc finished. "To kiss them. If you can't even say it then why are you the one doing it?"
"I can say the word," Steven argued, hands clasped together to ease his anxiety. "I just started thinking about it, and them and..."
Marc sighed in the mirror, hands on his hips. He understood Steven's feelings too well. You were his first serious relationship with anyone that knew about Steven--and you were far too easy-going about it; even when you learned about the mysterious second alter you didn't run for the hills screaming. You just said you'd help him figure it out and that was that. Both he and Steven were hooked.
"I'm just saying I have more experience in the area," Marc argued. He crossed his arms, raising his nose in the air despite only being a reflection at the moment.
Steven frowned and tried not to roll his eyes. "What, you think I'll kiss them and that'll be what sends them off, yeah?"
"No, that's not--"
"They've tried three times with me and only once with you, so--"
"That you know of."
"What?" Steven pressed his hands onto the ceramic sink. "What does that mean?"
"You aren't the best at reading people," Marc admitted softly, but there was a hint of condescension in his tone as he teased Steven. "You don't know how many times they've tried, really."
Steven's frown deepened. "So what do you suggest we do? Because only one of us is going to get the first kiss."
Both men thought about how this would sound to anyone but them. But they were equals in the relationship with you, and somewhere inside themselves they felt like whoever you kissed first you might...like better? Ridiculous, but then it sort of turned into a childish competition. And neither of them wanted to go to you and ask who you wanted to kiss first, it would be unfair to everyone involved.
Marc and Steven stared at each other when you knocked on the door. Steven quickly turned off the sink , unsure of how much time he and Marc had wasted arguing while you were out in the living room ready for a damned kiss.
Steven bit his bottom lip as he remembered the way you stroked a hand down his cheek and lifted yourself towards him on the couch--he'd been about to give in when Marc yelled at him to get his ass up and away from you.
And when he opened the door there you stood, staring at him with your eyebrows arched and lips pouted. The concern on your face was more worrisome than anything.
Right twits we are, he thought to himself.
"Are you...okay?" you questioned.
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Steven watched you for so long without a word you almost thought it was Marc. But when his fingertips tapped together you knew who it was. You quickly stammered, "Sorry, I'll let you guys talk."
Your own ramblings continued as you spun on your heel and started to walk away. If you'd faced them long you would have seen Steven's eyes roll to the back of his head as his neck snapped back, his relaxed shoulders tensing as someone else took over.
His hand wrapped around your wrist and spun you back towards him, his other arm going around your waist and hugging you close. Then the same hand that had grabbed your wrist went behind your neck and pulled your lips against his own. You jumped in surprised, but both arms held you steady as your eyes closed and you kissed him back. You thought it was Steven, since you'd just spoken with him, but the intensity that radiated off the man holding you was too strong for Steven.
He bit your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, more than willing to deepen the kiss and allow him entry. The arm around your waist tightened, your own hands going from holding onto the front of his shirt to wrapping around his neck. You pressed yourself further against him until you both needed to breathe and finally disconnected. You stayed in each others arms, staring into his deep brown eyes.
You smiled. "Took you long enough, Marc."
The smirk you were met with was not Marc, however, and it was far from the gentle smiles Steven gave you. Your brow furrowed. "Not Marc."
He shook his head.
"And not...Steven," you added slowly.
Your heart skipped a beat, thinking of the way Marc had described his second alter. Dangerous, deadly, and...unknown. A wildcard. You blinked at those brown eyes, seeing the danger in them but also seeing the same emotions that Marc and Steven carried. Caring. Gentleness. Devotion.
Devotion to you.
In a whisper against your lips he said, "They were wasting their time when they could have been doing this."
You tried not to smile at that after listening to half a conversation through the door. Probably not the most ethical thing, but you'd been hoping to gain some insight as to why they'd refused to kiss you for so long.
"I will see you soon, ojos de angel," he said, voice struck with more gravel than you'd ever heard it. <angel eyes>
Then his head whipped back, his grip on you tightened even more for a fraction of a second, and when he faced you again it was Steven. He blinked at you, brow furrowing as his bottom lip turned out with confusion.
"Love?" he asked. His eyes scanned your face as if you weren't really you, and then lowered to the complete lack of space between your bodies. His fingers poked into your side and made you laugh, and with that sound he let go and leapt back. "I'm so sorry, I don't--I'm not sure what..."
Steven's eyes went to the picture frame on the nearby wall as he held his hands out as if to ask, "What the hell, Marc?"
You licked your lips, pressing your hands to your burning cheeks. "It wasn't Marc."
"What do you mean?" Steven looked back to you. He glanced at the reflection, where you figured Marc was confirming your statement. Then his eyes widened with a sharp inhale. "Do you--"
You nodded, not letting him finish the question. In the blink of an eye his back straightened and he was holding onto one of your arms and tilting your chin to look up at him.
"What did he do?" Marc asked. His lips were somewhere between a grimace like Steven's and a scowl.
"Nothing," you said. "I mean...he...we kissed. But that was it! He wasn't like, hurting me. He was very polite."
He'd even given you a pet name that you were going to Google the second you made it back to your phone.
Maybe it was the way you were avoiding meeting his eyes, or the fact that you knew he could feel the burn in your cheeks, but Marc's scowl deepened. "Did he say anything?"
"He said you and Steven were wasting your time," you explained. You finally met his gaze. "Which I absolutely agree with."
Marc tilted his head, raising and lowing his eyebrows with no way to argue with you. You were right--they had been wasting their time.
"I guess that means we have some time to make up for, right?" he said. And just like that his scowl turned into a grin, already pulling your face towards him for a kiss.
Just as your lips were about to touch his head fell back and Steven fronted. "What do you think you're doing?"
They began to argue, switching back and forth between Marc and Steven fronting when you interrupted. You groaned and slapped your hands on their cheeks, holding them to look at you. They'd swapped places so many times you weren't too sure who you were holding, but it didn't matter as you squished their cheeks. "I don't know where you got this idea that the first kiss is the most important. Usually first kisses suck anyway until you figure out what the other person likes! And besides, if I kiss Marc first, or Steven, it's just my first kiss with them, not...all of you. I'll have a first kiss with Marc, and I'll have a first kiss with Steven, okay?"
You shook their head back and forth to push the point home. You groaned again and shook harder until he finally grabbed your hands and held them away from his face. He pressed his forehead to yours, looking up at you through thick lashes
"Okay," Steven breathed, "okay, love. You're right. When we have our first kiss it'll just be ours, yeah?"
"Yeah." You smiled. "Promise you guys won't fight about this anymore?"
"Promise," Steven said.
Marc fronted, placing his hands on your neck and taking a deep inhale. "Promise."
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ofstarsandvibranium · a month ago
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steven:
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marc:
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jake:
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afroethereal00 · a month ago
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After seeing the last ep
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l0caltiredgirl · a month ago
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fanfiction writers are the literal backbone of society
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soonknight · 2 days ago
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Atonement
content: NSFW, safeword usage, jake lockely x f!reader, smut, rough sex, jake's filthy mouth, orgasm control, steven grant x f!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (but mostly comfort), DID, general mental health discussion in relation to DID (nothing super serious)
disclaimer: I do not have DID, but I've tried to understand and do my research. Please alert me of any inaccuracies or harmful tropes.
"Fuck!" you managed to spit out.
"Doing so good, princesa," Jake said, driving into you at a punishing pace. "You gonna come for me again?
Jake had you pinned under him with your legs wide open and bent at the knees. You always got more than one orgasm with Jake, even if he had to force it out of you. Marc and Steven could be rough, but not nearly as rough as Jake. He'd gotten you to double digits many times, loved hearing all the noises you make, and some days, you needed that kind of release. But tonight, you were way too overstimulated. Each roll of his hips shot through your oversensitive body as you approached your third orgasm of the night.
"I ca- I can't, Jake!" you said as tears formed behind your eyes, threatening to fall any second.
"You can, sugar, you've done it before," Jake growled. He hooked an arm under your leg, pulling it up and sliding you closer to him in one swift motion. The angle change felt too good, and the coil in your stomach twisted tighter. He was so deep it made your head spin. "You're not done until I fucking say so."
Your moans dissolved into whimpers and you threw your head back, trying to get your bearings. "Too... too much!"
"What did I say? Fucking look at me," Jake ordered, grabbing your jaw. "If you wanna be my good girl, cariño, you better fucking act like it."
You couldn't do anything but sob as Jake released your jaw and brought his thumb to your clit. His words drowned out yours as your fourth orgasm ripped through you.
"That's right. That's right, baby. My good girl, coming when I say so," Jake said, never slowing or stilling his hips. It was too fucking much. Every nerve was on fire, and Jake was injecting gasoline into your bloodstream. "I bet you could-"
"Cairo!" you shouted, digging your nails into Jake's arms. "Cairo, baby!"
Jake pulled out immediately and sat back on his heels, breathing heavily as he watched you catch your breath. You'd never safeworded with Jake, and you'd never seen him so frightened.
It didn't last long. His worried visage was quickly overtaken by a very confused and doting Steven.
"Oh God," he said, his eyes scanning your body, all the way up to your tear-stained face. "Are you alright? I got triggered out, I'm not sure what's happening..." he trailed off, doing his best to calm you with soft sounds and touches.
You sniffed and let Steven work you into a seated position against the headboard. "I'm ok, Steven. Jake and I were having sex and I safeworded."
Steven brought a hand to your face. "Oh, love... You sure you're okay? I know he gets rough."
"Really, it's ok. I just couldn't handle more than a couple orgasms tonight," you chuckled, finally coming back to a more stable headspace. "He looked worried."
Steven bit his lip and glanced at the mirror on the bedside table. "I can't hear him. Neither can Marc. I doubt he's upset with you. He's probably just afraid he really hurt you."
"Well, if you hear from him, will you tell him I'm ok?"
"Of course," Steven said. "I'm gonna get you some water and something to clean up with, okay love?"
You nodded as Steven got off the bed. You heard a cup fill in the kitchen and a cloth wring out before he came back.
"Here," he said, handing you the cup. Steven ran the warm towel over your skin, pausing when he reached the backs of your thighs. His fingers traced a developing bruise just under the back of your knee. "Does this hurt?" Steven asked, a protective edge to his question.
"Not really," you reassured, sitting quietly and drinking your water while he finished his work.
"We can get you some ice if it hurts tomorrow," Steven said, getting up to throw the cloth in the laundry basket. "Okay. Let's get you some clothes..." He fished a pair of underwear and sweatpants out of your drawer and selected one of Jake's t-shirts. He showed it to you and you nodded.
"A peace offering," Steven said, crawling back into bed. He shimmed the bottoms around your ankles and pulled them up after you slipped on the shirt. "Some sleep would probably do all of us good. Anything else you need before we lay down?"
You shook your head and opened your arms for Steven to come closer. After all the excitement, you drifted to sleep fairly quick.
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The next morning, you woke to find Steven had already left for work. You walked to the kitchen and found a note on the counter from Steven:
Morning, sweetheart! Everything's OK- Jake was awake this morning and wants to talk to you when he gets home. Call me if you need anything! - S
You smiled. At least no one is mad. You set the note down and went about your day.
You heard the lock click open about six 'o clock. A guilty Jake walked through the threshold with a bouquet of flowers.
"Cariño?" Jake said, scanning the apartment. You rose from your place on the couch and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Hey, watch the flowers, sweetheart," he laughed, the tension easing out of him. He put a hand on the back of your head, pulling you close and stroking your hair. "I'm so sorry."
You stood back. "You don't have to be sorry. It was just a little too much for me. That's what the safeword is for, Jake."
"Ya lo sé. But I'm supposed to be-"
"-Jake." You stopped him. "I'm not hurt. I'm not mad. It's really ok."
Jake sighed. "Okay. Okay..." he said, setting the flowers on the kitchen counter. "I'll put those in a vase in a minute. Can I make you dinner?"
"That would be great. I actually started thawing some chicken earlier today if you could make something with that!"
Jake smirked. "You knew I'd make your favorite to atone, huh?"
"Mhm. Save some for Steven too."
thanks for reading! leave some asks, I need ideas haha <3
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paperweightshopp · 12 days ago
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we are NOT gonna move on from Steven
NEVER
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sgt-morgan · 20 hours ago
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Estrellita✨
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Description: there is only one person more important to you in life than The Moon Boys, and that was your niece. What happens when Jake meets her for the first time?
Warnings: Use of female pronouns for reader, some references to smut in a joking manner, other than that I’ve written another fluffy one folks!
A/N: Jake Lockley gives Girl Dad Energy™️, and he deserves all the good things in life.
🌘🌔🌒
“Listen, when you come over today, I have a little visitor, so if this is Jake fronting, keep a happy face! Cause if you scare the kid, we’re gonna have problems. Love you baby!” Jake listened to the ending of your voice mail with a chuckle, he knew a thinly veiled threat when he heard one, and he thought it was super hot. He knew of your niece, seeing her in photos and hearing her voice on phone calls on numerous occasions, but he was honestly a little shocked to hear he was going to be meeting the child in question. He knew you loved him and the rest of the system equally, and he had previously met a couple of your family members, but he didn’t truly believe that you loved and trusted them enough to let them interact with the most special person in your life.
The day she was born, Cassiopeia, affectionately referred to as Cassie by family, was a little miracle. Your Niece was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you constantly told everyone exactly how it was true. Your parents decided to get back together because of your niece, your sister and her husband moved to be closer to you because of your niece, and finally, you met the boys because of your niece. Your niece was a feisty little thing and often found herself in trouble, and about a year ago her attitude and fearless spirit led to a broken arm. The day she broke it she called you crying, insisting you come to the hospital. So of course, in your desperation to get there, you smacked into Jake.
“My word, I’m so sorry!” You gasped as you smacked into a man who was carrying a cup of coffee, spilling it all down his front. “I’m so sorry! I was in a rush, my niece is in the hospital and I can’t find a ride and there aren’t any cabs! I’m sorry!”
Jake was burgeoning on Murderous when you smacked into him. His day had already gone to shit, and now he was covered in coffee. He was preparing an absolute onslaught of curses in Español, until he looked up and laid his eyes on what was quite possibly the most beautiful person on planet earth. So naturally, he offered you a ride, the two of you have been inseparable since.
Thinking back on that day, Jake smiled widely and pride filled his chest when he remembered that you first fell for him. He then thought about the little catalyst he was about to meet, and decided that by the end of the night, he was gonna be that little girl’s favorite person if it killed him.
He got to your apartment around dinner time, bag full of groceries in hand, and a plan to charm this kid. He knocked, and when you opened the door he almost fell to his knees. You were beautiful, your smile was just perfect, your hair knotted up in a bun on top of your head. You were wearing one of his shirts, an oversized Ramones tshirt, and he could feel that puff of pride well up in his chest again. He noticed as you pointedly looked down at your legs and he glanced down, seeing a little girl hiding behind your legs shyly. He gave you one of his devilish smirks and a wink, you knew tonight would be perfect.
“Oye, Mi vida! You get more and more beautiful every time I see you.” He smiled and gave you a little kiss on the cheek, producing a beautiful bouquet of flowers from behind his back. You chuckled at this, because normally when Jake brought you a gift, it was more likely to be a bottle of whiskey than a bouquet, but you noticed with a laugh that there was an airplane bottle of Jack tucked carefully between the blooms. “Hey, I heard that there es una princesa here? All I’m seeing though es mi reina!” Jake heard a small giggle from behind you, and was pleased to see your beaming face as he attempted to get the small child to come out from behind your legs.
“PST! Down here!” He heard a small childish whisper and he grinned as he looked down to see a little girl that for all the world looked just like you. From the mischievous smile on the girls face, he could already tell you all would be the best of friends.
“¡Dios mío! Mi Vida you shrank!” He gasped, placing a dramatic hand over his heart as he glanced down at the giggling little girl.
“No silly! I’m Cassiopeia!” She smiled and came out from behind your legs. She was wearing an adorable little dress, and Jake felt his heart melt a bit at the sight of you with a tiny version of yourself, he might even want to give you a tiny version of yourself, but that was for later. Right now, he had a job to do.
“Well! Cassiopeia huh? So you’re an Estrellita, a little star?” He nodded crouching to meet her level, as Cassie blushed sweetly at Jake’s term of endearment. You chuckled and thought ‘Same kid.’ As Jake leaned into her conspiratorially. “Well then, I must be the luckiest man alive! I was only expecting one pretty girl to take on a date tonight, but now I have two! Good thing I came prepared! Para ti, mi estrellita!” He said softly, brandishing a perfect white rose between his fingers. Oh boy had he won her over. You’d never seen your niece take to anyone as fast as she took to Jake, and you began to believe that the bastard had a secret supper power as a child whisperer. “Vamos, mis señoras, ¡estoy preparando la cena! How do we feel about enchiladas?” He winked at you as he was pulled into the house by a tiny fist clasped around his finger. You blushed madly, pressing your hands to your heated cheeks, beaming. God, you loved that man.
Jake was a phenomenal cook. You didn’t understand where he learned the skill exactly, because Marc and Steven were practically hopeless in that department, but he never disappointed when the kitchen was concerned. You looked on in wonder as he carefully pulled a stool up to the counter for your niece, and listened as she rambled on to him about the movie Coco, her only frame of reference for Spanish, besides her dad who was from Argentina. He nodded and muttered comments when appropriate and occasionally handed her ingredients to toss in to the rice that he was carefully toasting on your stove. Once the rice was simmering and the enchiladas in the oven, you knew what came next. Jake walked over to your record player and flipped the needle into the grooves with a smile. Suddenly throughout your apartment the Kako y su Orquesta played throughout the house, and Jake reached to spin you into his arms, and sway you around the kitchen. You giggled and swayed in his arms as he carefully kept an eye on the food. Your niece giggled and clapped as he spun you in and out of his arms with a brilliant smile. Your bodies rolled together in perfect time and your niece squealed, wanting a turn of her own. Jake spun you into a chair at your table, and pointedly pushed his glass of wine towards you with a conspiratorial wink. He then swung your niece from the counter and placed her feet on top of his, and held tightly to her hands as he gently danced in time to the music with a smile. “Oye, Cariño! You didn’t tell me she was una bailarina!” He smiled charmingly at your niece, and you laughed for all you were worth, because you could have sworn you could see the hearts in your niece’s eyes. When the timer went off, Cassie had practically laughed her head off at Jake’s silly antics dancing her around the kitchen, and had easily fallen in to calling him Tio Jake.
You sat down to the table to eat, and she grinned at every bite, you had never seen the usually picky child eat as much as she did. When you thanked Jake for making the food, he smirked at you with a wink and said “No me des las gracias, todos los cumplidos a estrellita, ¡ella era la verdadera cocinera!” You rolled your eyes and laughed again as Cassie smiled brightly and asked Jake to stay for movie night. He had an even further surprise up his sleeve. “But of course! I brought candy!” You couldn’t help but melt a bit inside as he pulled out her favorite, and yours. At this point, the little girl was practically buzzing with joy, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have this man. You squealed alongside your niece and pressed your foreheads together in excitement as you discussed what film you would watch. You scooped her up into your arms and left to change into your pajamas.
While you were gone, Jake took the liberty of popping popcorn and spoke to his alters about how wonderful you were.
“Did you see them talking? They way their foreheads pressed together and their eyes sparkled? My days, that woman is a goddess in disguise.” Stephen swooned in the reflection of the wine bottle on the counter, causing Jake to chuckle. “And Cassie is a dream! I can’t wait to meet her! She is quite the cheeky thing, Innit? I bet she would love the museum! Did you hear her talking about Mayan mythology? She’s adorable.”
“I’d for one LOVE the chance to put a baby in our girlfriend. Did you see the way she danced tonight? My god, that was hot.” Mark growled, causing Jake to smirk.
“Imagine it up close padrecito, Demasiado calor para este mundo. If there wasn’t currently a child present? We would be having an entirely different evening.” He muttered throwing a wink at the reflection of his alter in the pot he was washing.
“You dog you,” Marc cackled, “also, you didn’t tell us you were good with children? Cassie loves you!” Marc exclaimed with an impressed smile.
“Oh si,” Jake muttered under his breath, “normally, No soy tan bueno con los más pequeños, but Cassie is the reason we met our girl, so I figured I needed to put the work in.”
“Tio look!” Jake turned with a small smile to see what was quite possibly the most adorable sight in the world. You and Cassie stood side by side in matching pink pajamas, Jake couldn’t help the look of wonder that came over his face at the way your eyes sparkled while you posed with your little niece on your hip. He couldn’t help but imagine you with a little girl of your own, with his brown eyes and your perfect pink lips. He nearly swooned.
“Oh my goodness! Mi vida! I wish you had told me, I would have brought a pair of my own!” He grinned as Cassie nearly laughed herself to death. You couldn’t help but join her at the mental image of your big scary boyfriend in a pair of pink pjs. “What?” He faked offense at your laughter. “You don’t think I could pull them off?” He gasped laughing as he pulled Cassie from your grip and settled into the couch with your head on his chest and Cassie’s in his lap. You settled in to watch whatever princess movie your niece wanted to watch, and Jake noticed as slowly, both of you fell asleep in his arms. His heart felt so full. He has always been the protector, the brute force, the berserker, but in this moment, with you and this little girl curled up so gently in his arms. He got to experience being the lover, the soft one. He tallied up as another gift that you and this brilliant little girl gave to him, and he could t be more grateful. For a moment, Jake got to smile, and be at peace. “Buenas noches, mis amores.” He said stroking Cassie’s hair and kissing you gently on the forehead as he watched the rest of the movie.
About half ten, Jake heard a key in the lock of your door. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep, but it didn’t really matter. He heard as two voices hushed each other gently and giggling, made their way into your living room. He figured this must be your sister, who he’d met before, and your brother in law, who he had not. “Shh!” A female voice whispered “Awe look! They’re asleep!” He peeked one eye open and gave a half smirk to your sister, Allison, holding a finger to his lips. He shook his head in amusement as she clicked a picture of the three of you curled into each other.
“Hola, Amigo.” Your brother in law whispered, shaking his hand after scooping Cassie into his chest. “¿Qué tal la noche?”
“Muy bien, tenía dos hermosas damas para comer, ¿qué podría ser mejor?” Jake chuckled softly, shifting the blanket to cover you further as you curled more firmly into his side.
“Ah, so you’re Jake, nice to meet you hermano, Marc and Steven spoke very highly of you. I’m glad we got the chance to meet.” Your brother in law Andreas smiled and nodded at you, handing the baby to his wife, “She speaks highly of you too, you boys have really won her over.”
Internally Jake and the rest of the system couldn’t help but feel so grateful at how well your family treated them, how easily they accepted them into their close knit bond. Surely it couldn’t be this easy with everyone, but he accounted it to your parents, who were big proponents of mental health awareness. Tonight only further demonstrating how lucky they all were to have you, and they swore to always keep you close. “Si, I am a lucky man.” He smiled, placing another kiss to your brow.
“Well Jake, we’re gonna get going. Take care of my sister or I’ll kill you!” Allison blew a kiss at him and Andreas chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.
“We’re both lucky men.” He smiled and winked as he left, locking the door behind them. Jake sighed and positioned you in his arms a little tighter. After he was sure you were comfortably pressed between himself and the back of the couch, he sighed and fell back into sleep, dreaming of little girls with Steven’s smarts and Marc’s sass, his keen eye and your beauty. He’s never had a better nights sleep.
Over the next two weeks, he had spoken to your niece three times over the phone, taken her to the zoo, and gotten them matching keychains. He also received a beautiful drawing of his cab that he hug from his fridge with pride. It was safe to say, he was smitten. It was a rare thing to get Jake to truly smile, not smirking, not the maniacal grin he gives when he’s especially homicidal, but truly smile. The list used to only be occupied by one person, you. Now however, he seemed to smile every time he heard a childish giggle over the phone, or looked at his fridge. Hell, his Lock Screen was the picture Allison took of the three of you. The list had gone from one to two, and he had never been more grateful. Now that he had met the baby, the baby seemed to latch onto him as tightly as you had, and he learned one thing he for sure needed to know about the women of this family. (Especially if he wanted one of his own.) They had all inherited that gene for being truly threatening.
“Tio, next time I see you I have to meet all the other uncles, or I’m going to be really cross with you.” She grumps from the other end of the phone. “Mi Tia says that the others are jealous, and I want ALL of my favorite uncles to be happy! Because you make me happy!” There was that thinly veiled threat thing again, mixed with a sugary sweetness that almost made his heart pop. She had missed the finer nuance of the system of course, but she was young , she couldn’t know. It was honestly impressive that she was even able to semi comprehend that Jake had two alters, so they took what they could get.
“Si Estrellita! If you want the moon, I won’t hesitate to give it to you!” He winked at you when he gave his terrible pun, and you rolled your eyes. Those two were going to be trouble, you could already tell. However, if there was one thing you knew about you and your boys, you loved trouble, and couldn’t wait to make more of it.
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ohwowimlonley · a day ago
Note
☕️I’ll put the kettle on, then☕️
Okokkk but just hear me out w some goood gritty toxic hate-fucking w jake lockley
“You’re so annoying, Jake,” you complain, breathless from the simple task of opening your mouth for the exclamation. He just rolled his eyes, pushing down on your neck so your face was practically smothered in the pillows and speeding up his relentless pace inside you.
“Shut the fuck up,” he insisted, blanketing your body with his and clamping his jaw tightly around the sensitive skin of your neck, smirking as you cried out, “I hate you so fucking much, don’t you get that? I don’t give bratty little girls that I hate whatever they want,”
“Jake,” you argued, reaching your hand back to push on his abdomen but he just pushed it away, pinning both your hands under your ribs and snaking his palm round to cover your mouth.
“You speak when I tell you to,” he snarled, pace brutal now and hips surely bruising your own with the force, “you don’t get to argue. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m taking what I want and you’re just lucky I chose you,”
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writingfics-passingtime · 23 days ago
Text
Finishing the Job
When Marc and Steven feel incapable of keeping you safe, a surprisingly willing hero emerges.
Pairing: Jake Lockley x reader (no pronouns used)
Word Count: ~8200
CWs: Swearing, violence, death, mentions of child abuse and resulting PTSD, depictions of DID, briefest mentions of skin mutilation (not intended as self-harm)
If you’re a regular reader of my fics, please read this first x
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The first time you met Jake Lockley was the third time you’d almost died.
Granted, the other two were far less intense.
The first was in a car accident as a teenager when your car had been half-crushed under a truck and you were miraculously unharmed. The second had been on a dig site with a shaky foundation. Everyone had survived both incidents relatively unscathed so perhaps it wasn’t fair to call them "near-death experiences,” but the night you met Jake Lockley was undeniably so.
In your flat just outside London Town, in the dead of night, you awoke to a weird noise.
It was the city; it could have been any number of things, so the noise didn’t necessarily alarm you in and of itself. The thing that got you was something eerie in the atmosphere.
So you stayed still, listened, and then crept to your door to get a better gauge on what was going on in the hallway that held both of the bedrooms.
You heard… footsteps.
On any other night you would’ve assumed it was your roommate, Steven and Marc, but there was more than one set, and they were trying too hard to be quiet. The second you took a step back from the door, there was a loud splintering crash and the whoosh of the air pressure changing drastically. Someone kicked in the door of your pitch-black room. The edge of the wood barely missed your body as it careened by and slammed into the wall.
You gasped and turned away on instinct but a masked figure burst in and grabbed you around the waist. Fighting hard, kicking and screaming as you much as you could with a gloved hand clamped over your mouth, you hit and punched and clawed at anything on him you could reach. He gave grunts of pain but was big and strong enough to subdue your arms while still carrying you out of the room.
Over your own noise you heard the commotion of Steven waking up. There was no doubt he'd be immediately surrendering control to Marc. You heard fighting, and then your attention was taken by being dropped in a painful heap on a bare patch of hardwood floor in the main living area.
A fist tangled in your hair and pulled you to you kneel, your back shoved against your attacker’s leg to force your neck back. You cried out when you caught the glint of a knife in his free hand making its way towards your skin. Closing your eyes, all you could do was pray Steven and Marc wouldn’t self-destruct from guilt.
Please, was your last though, don't let them blame themselves.
A full year ago, the four of you had gone back and forth for weeks, you and Layla against Steven and Marc, convincing them that living with someone who knew them (really knew them) was a good idea. They were entirely unwilling to put anyone else in any danger, but you’d been stubborn. Besides, you were equipped to deal with it.
Mostly.
You’d even landed Steven a job with you at the Smithsonian - somewhere he could really shine - that was Layla’s idea. This whole thing was Layla’s idea, in fact. You'd been getting into sticky situations together since your university years… you'd always joked that you'd get each other into too much trouble one day.
You hoped your death wouldn't consume her with guilt either. It was the final thing you hoped before you felt the impact.
Again, you fell forward into a heap on the floor. There was no pain. You wondered if you were in shock and bleeding out, but the sight of an obviously dead attacker across the room and the sound of a scuffle behind you made you think twice. You scurried out of the way as Marc, with deadly precision, fought the man whom had nearly just taken your life.
After a flurry of limbs and fists, Marc succeeded in taking the man down to his knees before slotting behind him to lock an arm around his thick neck.
“What are you doing here, you piece of dog shit?!” He growled.
Your heart stopped in your chest and you felt like you’d been dunked underwater. Maybe you were in shock and your hearing wasn’t working, or your brain wasn’t working.
Because that wasn’t Marc’s voice.
It was American, like Marc, but less… standard. More Boston. More north-east, like a New Yorker or-
“TELL ME!” He bellowed in the attacker’s ear. The man opened his mouth to speak, to breathe, but the elbow against his windpipe would not allow it. Instead, he yanked up his sleeve to reveal a scale crudely scarred against his skin, as if it had been carved there in some sick branding.
The man in charge scoffed and whispered something you couldn’t understand.
"Rezaría por tu alma pero a los dioses no les importa."
As your attacker lost consciousness, the person in control finally looked up and locked eyes with you. It was startling, to look into his face and not recognise him.
“Who are you?” You demanded hoarsely.
This new man, this unknown person, looked at you with something severe in his eye. He dropped his sneer for a mere second, looking over you with a flash of relief, and then was stoic again. With his arm still around the now-unconscious attacker's neck, he met your eye and said:
“I’m the guy who finishes the job.”
He tightened and twisted his arm, and the attacker was dead before his body hit the floor.
The clunk of the limp corpse made you gasp and fill with a weird type of melancholy. It was you or him, you knew that, but a life just ended before your eyes and that wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
You looked back up at your saviour and found his eyes were still on you. You sat in silence for several moments before he shifted his stare to glance at the two bodies on the floor. He sighed and then scratched the back of his head. Turning back to you, he said “Get back to your room. I’ll take care of the mess.”
“Th-they’re people,” you argued unexpectedly, not really sure why you were defending them. “They’re not a mess. They’re people.”
“They were people who meant to kill us all,” he glowered, standing to his full height and squaring his shoulders. “Now go. So I can do what needs to be done.”
“Where’s Steven?”
“He’ll be back in the morning,” he said. It sounded like he had far too much understanding of how the arrangement worked, considering he wasn’t exactly a part of it. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”
“He’ll know."
He shook his head. “Not unless you tell him.” He knelt and began shoving his hands around the attacker’s pockets. “And since I saved your life, how about you do me the solid of keepin’ this between us.”
You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to hide this from your roommates. Though, that nagging feeling in your gut said if you didn’t establish the smallest amount of trust with this person right away, you likely wouldn’t get another chance. And you had questions, for him, so you nodded in agreement. “What do I call you?”
He closed his fists around the jacket of the body closest to you and began dragging it away, avoiding your eye and ignoring your question. Asking again felt like pushing it, so you stood and went back to your room without another word.
You didn’t sleep another second that night.
When the sunrise became more obvious, you left your room with the expressed mission of scoping out of the state of the living area. And making coffee. You switched the kettle on to let the water boil and took a hesitant step into the room which held cozy couches, a large rug covering dark hardwood floors, a TV, several bookshelves, a fish tank and way too many knick knacks. Everything was in its place. If not for the way your scalp still held the dull ache of being hauled up by your hair, you could’ve easily convinced yourself it’d all been an awful nightmare.
No blood. No broken furniture. No dead bodies piled in the corner.
Steven would be awake soon and you’d have to pretend like everything was fine. It was Saturday. He’d probably suggest going to the farmer’s market and you’d say yes because he’d been into cooking lately and it had been nice for him to have something to take his mind off everything that'd ever happened to him. Also, something to feel like a normal person. He was actually getting pretty good.
Layla wasn’t due back from her current dig for three more weeks, and Marc really only wanted the body when she was home. Which wasn’t often, but still often enough to make it work.
Which meant a few more weeks of Steven, his homemade fettuccine, his company at work, his movie nights, and… his deeply suppressed co-alter who’d just revealed himself to you for the first time.
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“Steven! Do you want some tea?”
“No thanks, love!” He called from the other room.
You got to work making your own, starting with opening the cupboard just above the kettle. You selected a random ceramic mug, a white one with blue polka dots, closed the door, and that’s when you saw it. The vile creature sitting presumptuously on the wall. Before you could stop yourself, your instincts forced out a blood curdling scream.
The mug shattered on the floor next to your sock-clad feet. You jumped back and clutched your racing heart, panting and scolding yourself for your overreaction. Suddenly remembering Steven was in the next room, you started to call out to let him know what had happened. When you turned to do so, you let out another small scream when you were met with Marc thundering into the room, a gun in his outstretched hand. Steven wouldn’t carry a gun, but he would certainly let Marc take over if there was perceived danger.
“Marc, it’s fine,” you breathed, holding up a hand. You then sheepishly admitted: “I’m sorry, it was just a cockroach.”
He looked at you for several moments and then lowered the gun. Your face fell in recognition. Or, lack-thereof.
Marc would’ve laughed in relief.
Marc would’ve made this into a joke.
This wasn’t-
“You’re not-”
“No. I’m not,” he scoffed and placed the gun on the kitchen counter. He leaned over it, gripping the sides of the smooth granite. He looked at you with something serious in his eye. “They care about you, ya know?”
You nodded.
He shook his head. “No, you don’t get it," he pointed an accusing finger for a few moments. "They worry you’re gonna get dragged into all this bullshit and get hurt. I can feel it. When they think you’re in danger their fried little minds get all riled up and-…” He sighed again, a little impatiently. Clearly he’d felt like he told you too much already.
You wrapped your sweater-clad arms around yourself and bit your lip, looking at the ground. “I don’t need protecting.”
He let our a few dry chuckles before tucking the gun into the back of his belt. “Yeah, well… trying telling them that.”
He stood up straight and walked over to the counter, tearing off a piece of paper towel on his way. When you saw he was advancing on the cockroach, which hadn’t moved despite the commotion, you reached out in an honest reflex and touched his arm to stop him. “Hey, you don’t-”
You were silenced by his flinch at the gentle contact. You removed your hand immediately and mumbled some kind of apology before stuffing your hand back against your arm.
He mellowed, again just for a moment, to say what may be his mantra for moments of comfort and purpose:
“Jake Lockley finishes the job.”
In this context, it was almost like a joke. You didn’t have time to wonder whether you should crack a smile before you had to consciously ignore the awful squelch of him squishing the bug in the paper towel. In order to have something to do, you got to your knees against the tile and began gathering the bigger pieces of the broken mug. Once he’d tossed the dead roach in the trash he grabbed the brush and dustpan from under the sink and passed it to you.
You cleaned the floor in silence, wondering how to make him tell you more.
“I didn’t tell them about last month,” you said, gliding the brush against the linoleum. “But they know someone else is there. They don’t know your name.”
“That’s how it should be.”
“But you know theirs.”
“Khonshu told me.”
You looked up and hardened your glare. “Don’t bullshit me.”
You stood and discarded the remnants of the mug before placing the pan back under the sink. You met Jake’s eyes and folded your arms again. He was silent, stoic, and unmovable.
“How do you take the body?”
He scoffed, then tilted his head with a smirk. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
“No, don’t-”
The body lurched with Jake’s forceful resignation of control. The new commander stumbled against the counter and looked up at you, frazzled. Steven.
“You alright, yeah?” He stood up and dusted off the crewneck sweater he'd put on that morning. He looked confused. “What happened?”
Not knowing whether or not Jake could see you, but not willing to compromise any small amount of trust he might have in you, you told Steven, “There was a bug. I freaked out. It forced a change, apparently.”
He eyed you skeptically, nervously. You’d never been a good liar, even though it was a partial truth. Steven opened his mouth, maybe to question you, but you’d turned on your heel and walked out of the kitchen, cup of tea forgotten.
Jake Lockley.
The name replayed in your head as you brushed your teeth and settled down to sleep. It replayed like the vaguely apologetic look he’d given you when you touched him unexpectedly and he’d flinched away. Your heart felt heavier in your chest when you remembered his reaction. Because you knew what it meant.
He was rarely touched with kindness.
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An argument could be made that it was unethical to try bringing Jake back. Yet, here you were with your mind made up.
Based on your experiences with Jake and your knowledge of Steven and Marc, you had to assume that the two familiar men were, subconsciously yet intentionally, surrendering the body. They had to be. Marc couldn’t take it from Steven without consent and vice versa.
Maybe Jake was different.
Or maybe, just maybe, in those split seconds between Marc or Steven registering a danger that felt beyond their scope, their subconscious minds called out for someone capable. Someone to finish the job.
Or maybe Jake was truly in control.
You didn’t know, but you felt like Jake knew, and you wanted answers. Still, it felt unethical to be plotting how to invoke such distress in someone. Telling yourself it was a minor infringement on their psyche, you decided that innocently scaring Steven might be within the scope of “acceptable.”
You’d never been one for horror movies but Midsommar got rave reviews. A new cult classic, said the critics, and not to be missed. The plot, the cinematography, the wardrobe and acting were all top-tier and totally worth the scary stuff. At least, that’s what you told Steven on a Friday night after you both got home from work and he asked if you wanted to watch a film.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he admitted sheepishly, then tried to respectfully disagree. “What about a comedy, or-or if you want something darker I think there’s a great new historical film that’s just come out, we could go to the cinema and-and…” he trailed off when you raised your eyebrows at him.
“Have you never watched a horror film?”
“I don’t exactly see the enjoyment of bein’ scared out my mind,” he scoffed, but he was cracking. He gave you a pleading look but saw that your resolve wasn’t moving. So he sighed and moved to the stove to make some popcorn, wordlessly agreeing. You gave him a quick squeezing hug from behind, which seemed to make it all worth it to him (for now) and then ran off to find the film on a steaming service.
You were fairly sure Steven hated every second he watched.
Sitting on opposite ends of the three-seater, you thought Steven might bite his own finger off given how much he was grimacing against it. He yelped at almost every jump scare and muttered choice words under his breath at some of the more gruesome scenes. Just as you felt some guilt nagging at you, seeing that he’d barely touched the popcorn and was pulling his knees up to his chest, arguably the worst scene of them all happened.
Instead of screaming, Steven flinched hard and hid his face in one of his hands. Then, his erratic breathing went still and he slowly removed the hand from his eyes.
“You okay?” You asked calmly.
Truth be told, your heart was racing. Did it work?
His eyes scanned the room, scanned the scene on the TV and then flicked to you. His arm slid along the back cushion to rest comfortably, his hand now almost at your shoulder. He turned in confrontation and gave you a serious look, but not one with any malice behind it.
“Now why’d you gotta do a thing like that?”
That upper east accent made your heart beat faster. Some weird part of you wasn’t quite sure why but you were sure you’d overanalyse it later.
Instead of making a big deal out of it, you took and handful of the popcorn in the bowl on your lap. “Steven couldn’t handle it, huh?” You looked at him innocently, then held the bowl out to him. He ignored it, keeping you locked in his stare once you’d dared to meet it.
Jake chuckled once or twice then rolled his eyes to look away.
“Malo. I’m bringin’ him back.”
You set the popcorn bowl down so it was touching his leg. He looked back to you and you shrugged, looking down at the bowl as you took some more popcorn in your hand, “There’s still an hour left.”
“So?”
“So I thought Jake Lockley finished the job.”
You’d said it with your eyes back on the screen, watching another terrifying scene unfold. Putting piece after piece of popcorn slowly in your mouth, your handful depleted yet you could still feel his eyes on you.
Just as you were sure he was going to tell you off, swear at you or just leave without a word, he picked up a few pieces of popcorn and turned towards the screen.
Heart beating harder again, you held back a smile and shared your popcorn with him until it was gone. Your hands only collided once. He flinched when it happened. You didn’t give any indication that it bothered you, even though it did.
Once the credits started rolling you took your hand away from where it was propping up the side of your head and then turned to Jake. “Scary,” was all you commented. You’d probably have nightmares, since you were prone to that kind of thing, but he didn’t need to know that.
He gave you a wary look, and then shook his head and chuckled through his nose.
You turned more towards him. “What? Why are you laughing?”
“I’ve never been tricked into a date before.”
Your cheeks burned. “This isn’t a date.”
He raised his eyebrows and teased, “No?”
“No!”
“But you got me here on purpose.”
“Yeah, but-”
“To watch a movie with you.”
“To talk,” you said, jutting your chin with a stern look. He met your eye for a few seconds and then laughed once or twice. He shook his head.
“Loco.”
“You’re one of them, it’s not-”
“I am not…” the sudden gruffness in his voice caught you off-guard. He finished his sentence slowly, so you’d take in every word. “… like them.” He looked you dead in the eye and you could tell he meant it. “I’m not. You don’t know who you’re talkin’ to.”
“Then tell me,” you challenged. “What does “finishing the job” usually entail? What are you doing for Khonshu?”
“They’re not supposed to know about what I do.”
“Why can’t they?”
“Dammit!” He slapped the back of the couch, startling you. His fingers dug into the cushion and he leaned in closer, olive skin now burning with a tint of rage. “You think they can handle the things I do?! It would destroy them. That’s why I exist. What, you couldn’t figure that out?” His eyes glazed over with something desperate and erratic and ashamed.
Your jaw clenched and you refused to break eye contact.
You refused to back down.
You refused to be afraid of him, to validate the way he felt like a monster.
It was hard, looking at him without showing all the pain you could feel. Without showing him the heartache of a surface-level understanding of his self-worth. You let a curt breath out through your nose.
“You deserve a life too.”
He scoffed, sat back and then looked to the rolling credits. “The things you saw on that screen are nothing compared to what I’ve done.”
“You don’t strike me as a cold-blooded killer.”
“What d’you know?” He snapped, turning back to you. Your mouth went a little dry at his cool demeanour but you swallowed your pride and reminded yourself that of course he’d try to shove you away. “No sabes nada,” he all but growled.
So you smiled, tight-lipped, wryly. “I know a hell of a lot more than you’d think.” You stood, picking up the popcorn bowl. “So do they,” you added. “They know Khonshu made a bad-faith promise.” You moved to leave, to test the limits of his drive to protect by forcing him to ask you to elaborate if that’s what he wanted. Just as you were two steps away from the kitchen, he called out.
“How?”
You turned and raised an eyebrow.
“How do they know?” He asked, eyes now on the place where you once sat.
Steven had told you about the habit of the sand around the bed and you’d agreed it was okay to continue, but clearly both Marc and Jake had dodged that before. Hidden cameras would’ve been a good idea but they may have been detected and disposed of by any dormant alter who’d had more control than they’d realised. And they knew there was someone else.
Sure, Steven and Marc could now grant each other a degree of privacy but that’s because it was intentional. It had taken work, to figure out the balance between their control. Their foundation of trust is what made it possible, but it also made them susceptible; because they didn’t always have to be on their guard to keep the other from jumping in the driver’s seat, their metaphorical doors had been unlocked.
It didn’t take long to realise they had someone taking advantage of the open-door policy.
“Some mornings they wake up sore and exhausted, and they talk to each other,” you said simply. Jake sighed and rubbed his temples in one hand. “You might be careful to avoid any injuries but underneath those suits that body is human. It needs rest. The nights you take control it’s… it’s obvious the next morning.”
You walked into the kitchen, wondering if he’d follow you. Wondering if he’d call out again. Now that you’d given him an answer maybe he’d come searching for more. There was no way he was ready for camaraderie Steven and Marc could offer, but maybe he could talk to someone who might understand. Or, at least, want to understand.
After dumping the kernels into the rubbish bin and moving to wash the bowl you, heard footsteps approach. You turned to see him walking into the room, still with a hand against the side of his head. He looked at you with something wary, but it was softer than Jake.
“That is the last time I let you choose a film,” Steven’s indignant voice rang throughout the kitchen. You scoffed and looked at the floor. “Oh well, I’m terribly sorry to disappoint but I bloody passed out at that cliff scene now, didn’t I?” Something stormy had clearly fallen across your face because Steven immediately back-peddled. "No, love, I didn't mean to-"
"I'm sorry," you tried to smile. "I shouldn't have pushed it."
But you didn't mean it, and there was something more behind the way you wouldn't meet his eye. You heard Steven look around, then look at the time, and you felt your mouth go a little dry.
What were you thinking?
Steven took a step forward, prompting you to face him. Still, it was hard to meet his eye.
"It's been an hour," he looked hurt and confused. "What happened?" When you didn't verbally respond, and only looked away, he got more concerned. "What, did Marc take over? Did he say something to you? Did something happen?”
You bit the side of your tongue and shook your head but Steven had wasted no time in walking past you to rip open the curtain which covered the window. Night had fallen, and his reflection was noticeable. He held up a scolding finger and talked to it.
“Right, I’ve no bloody idea what you’ve gone and done but we had a deal you and I, didn’t we? And-… what am I talking about? Oh that is rich. Rich, Marc! You can’t-”
“Steven.” You tried interrupting but he wouldn’t have it; protectors, the lot of them.
“-just jump in and out of the body whenever you like. This doesn’t work if we don’t have ground rules so-… don’t lie to me…” Steven’s face fell into realisation as he listened to, what you assumed to be, Marc’s fervent declaration of innocence. “… What?”
Your eyes fell and you said, no louder than a breath, “Steven…”
He turned to you. “The... the other?”
Regretfully, you nodded.
“No, no no no,” Steven’s eyes filled with fear and he stepped towards where you stood, hands meeting the sides of your arms, then your cheeks, behind your neck to make you look at him.
You half-heartedly pushed at him and sniffed, “He didn’t hurt me, Steven.”
“What did he do to you?” He demanded. His eyebrows scrunched in worry, his mouth agape in a perpetual wince. “Marc, yeah? Should I get Marc?”
“No, don't get Marc, he’s not-”
Steven flinched, and some of that worry turned rugged and robust. “Hey,” Marc’s low voice said, trying to soothe, not understanding why you were upset. “Tell me what happened.” He, again, began checking over you for injuries.
"I'm fine."
“I swear if he put his hands on you-” When he tilted your chin up to inspect your neck for signs of bruises, you snapped.
“STOP IT!” You jutted your chin out of his grasp and shoved at Marc’s chest with a grunt, infuriated that no one was fucking listening. He stepped away, worry and confusion painted across his features. You felt hot, angry tears brim in your eyes.
Marc’s jaw set and he turned toward the window. “Come face us, you slimy bastard.”
“Marc!” You stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder. “Stop it, Marc. Both of you. He’s not some psychopath!” He shook off your grip and kept threatening the unknown soul behind the reflection.
“You’re not welcome in this body, especially not in this house, do you understand me?!” His voice had raised to a near-yell but by the sustained nature of his demeanour, you could tell Jake hadn’t made an appearance. Marc suddenly turned to you. “How many times have you met him? What has he told you?”
“Three times, including tonight,” you said honestly, ignoring his other question. Marc searched your features for any sign of hidden truths, and he probably found some, but something made him not press you on it. “He’s not evil,” your voice broke and the tears spilled over. “The first time we met he saved my life. Yours too. He only asked me to keep it a secret because he didn’t want you to freak out.” Another tear spilled down your cheek, and that was probably the reason he didn’t press you on it.
Marc dropped his aggressive stance and let out a tense breath, “Hey, let’s just-”
“He’s not a threat,” you said with finality, turning towards the sink to end the conversation by beginning to clean the bowl. "If you're here you may as well call Layla," you sniffed, making it clear you were done talking to him. "I heard from her yesterday. She'll have service for the next two days or so. The number to her new work phone is on the coffee table."
You turned the tap on and rinsed the bowl, not wavering when you heard Marc sigh next to you. You'd made it clear that you were unwilling to divulge anything else, and Marc had known you long enough to know he'd be fighting a losing battle. You and Layla were friends for a reason, and it wasn't because you were opposites.
So he left to call his wife.
Once he was gone, you looked at your own reflection in that window. The fresh tears that'd filled your eyes didn't spill over. Instead, they were blinked back with a single quiet sniff. Before your mind could fill with memories of witnessing Marc or Steven have an argument with their reflection, or perhaps a funny verbal spar you were only privy to one side of, you reached up and forcefully closed the curtain.
Steven was back the next morning.
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Marc hadn't pushed the subject when he came back for the two weeks Layla was back in London on a break from the dig in Syria. It helped that he was barely around, and that when he was around Layla was with him.
He'd obviously told her something because she started saying cryptic things about Khonshu and Marc disappearing in the middle of the night.
"You've never beat around the bush before, Layla. Don't start now," you'd told her. She'd laughed and shrugged.
"What's going on with you?" She asked, an earnest desire to understand behind her fiery brown eyes. "Why are you protecting this other alter?"
You didn't know for sure, but the only thing you could think of was "Someone has to."
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Three weeks after Layla had gone back to Al-Suwayda, you still hadn't seen Jake again. Which was bittersweet, considering it meant you hadn't been in enough perceived danger to strike anxiety through Steven's core. What's more, the subject of your rendezvous with the unsung soul in the body had been entirely dropped.
Some nights you’d lie awake and listen through the walls, waiting for a sign that Jake had awoken to do Khonshu’s bidding. Nothing came. Not while you were alert, anyway.
Doing nothing felt wrong but you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t just forget about him. Though given your last interaction with Jake, you didn't think another gruesome feature film was the best idea; he probably wouldn't appreciate you forcing him up from the depths.
Then, entirely too early one morning, your subconscious cried out for a saviour.
Deep down, some part of you knew it was all a dream. That didn’t make it any less horrific, nor any less traumatic, when your slumbering mind conjured the terrifying images for you to experience in your dream state .
Harrow’s people. Kicking doors in, flipping tables, destroying artefacts, setting fires as they went. They got a hold of Steven. Sweet, docile Steven. You could tangibly feel the fear in him as they lifted the blade. You screamed when they drove it through his chest. They drove it in again, and you screamed again. Someone was holding you back. He was going to die alone. Not entirely alone, but they’d all be gone. Helpless together.
You tried to break free but all you could do was scream until the very real sound of a door being thrown open broke through your dream state and brought you sitting up in bed.
Tears blurred your vision and you choked out a sob or two before clamping a hand over your mouth. Someone was here. One of them. They watched for a few moments as you clutched your chest and hung your head in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Marc,” you choked out, noticing the gun he was brandishing. Steven would never. "Sorry. It was just a stupid nightmare. I didn't mean to wake you up. I didn't..." You choked on a pant again and coughed once or twice.
He stood in silence. You heard the safety of a gun click to reengage. You lifted your head and looked him dead in the eyes. The look was more severe than Marc. You felt more tears well up.
"I'm sorry, Jake.”
“It’s alright.”
"I don’t want to keep scaring them so badly," you admitted in a whisper. You made to move out of the bed, to make some practical steps to leave their lives, because it was so early and your frazzled mind wasn’t really working right. "Maybe I shouldn't be here anymore. Maybe it's not good for them- I'm not good for them." You were rambling.
Jake moved in a few swift steps to stand between you and your easiest route out of the sheets. In a surprising move, his hand met your shoulder to stop you from doing something out of an unfounded fear.
"Deténgase."
His voice was low and strong as always. A single shrug let him know you didn't understand Spanish. He sighed, and translated: “Stop. Look at me,” he slipped his fingers under one side of your jaw to prompt you to look up. You shook off his hand and kept your gaze downward. He didn't need to see your tears. "What happened?"
"I told you," you mumbled. "Stupid nightmare.”
"'Bout what?"
You wiped the tear stains with the back of your hand and shrugged bitterly. "Harrow's people."
"They're gone."
"I know," you nodded and looked up with apology in your stare. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
"Stop apologising," he said, then lowered the tension in his shoulders. He gestured around weakly with his gun-free hand. "It’s alright. You know that, don't you?”
Only then did you realise his earlier sentiment was meant to comfort you. The first it’s alright wasn’t him accepting your apology, but him saying you were safe here. So you nodded again.
He nodded back and exhaled slowly, “Good. Now go back to sleep."
Even though still domineering, his voice was softer around the edges, much more than you'd ever heard. It would be easy to mistake it as annoyance or disappointment but something in his demeanour only showed relief. Exhaustion, too; it was three in the morning and he was just catapulted into a body that was probably smack in the centre of its sleep cycle.
Either way, you didn't feel like fighting a losing battle. So you slipped your legs back under the sheets, cleared your throat of the final nerves, and attempted to lay down as naturally as possible to somehow convince him you were fine to be left alone.
Instead, he turned and took a seat in the plush dark green armchair that sat in the corner of your room, just eight or so feet from your bed. He rested the side of his gun against the top of his thigh. His finger was still on the trigger.
"You don't need t-"
"Jake Lockley finishes the job."
His eyes stayed fixed on the door. He left no room for debate.
You watched his body language for a few seconds. You took in his posture. He seemed shaken, but now prepared. Through your limited interactions with this person you knew there was no arguing. Jake Lockley would finish the job, even if that job was merely making sure you felt safe enough to go back to sleep.
Logically, you knew there was no one waiting to burst through your door. Selfishly, his presence soothed that nagging part of you that doubted your logic.
So Jake sat there, stare and barrel trained on the door, and he didn't say another word.
Perhaps more easily than you thought you would, you slipped back under sleep's spell.
When you awoke the next day, you wondered if that entire thing had been a multi-layered dream. Some kind of hyperrealistic inception that for some reason brought you to Jake. But Steven was complaining about the bad sleep he got. It must've been bad, he said, because he felt like he only slept for a couple hours. And his neck was stiff.
Almost like he’d slept sitting up.
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"I swear it's in one of these blasted boxes," Steven mumbled as you two searched around. It had been nearly half and hour of head-scratching, nose-crinkling confusion that was slowly mounting into exasperation.
"You're not wrong," you sighed, glancing around the rows and rows of shelves and boxes that held the catalogued minor artefacts and samples found at dig sites over the years. You clicked the pen shut against your clipboard and dropped your hands to your side, clutching the stack of papers in defeat. "Some intern must've put it in the wrong place."
"I suppose we'll need to check through every box."
"Not necessarily," you furrowed your brow in thought. Then, a lightbulb moment. "Come with me," you said, turning on your heel and making your way towards a side room. Your keycard let you into the smaller, dingier storage room which was far less organised than the great storage warehouse.
"Blimey."
"Yeah," you breathed out and ducked your head, knowing what he must be thinking. "It's a tip."
"Who knows what's hiding in here?" He walked past you and into the space. The ceilings weren't nearly as high as the towering warehouse, but still about two dozen feet from floor to ceiling. The room was about thirty feet wide and forty-or-so feet long, every wall lined with cluttered shelves of boxes (some opened, some closed), a forgotten mug here or there (which would most definitely be growing something cursed), and another wide row of shelves straight down the middle.
You shut the door with your heel, without looking at it, and took in that familiar sound of the loud air conditioning unit in the far corner. "This room isn’t temperature controlled so it's become a dumping ground for anything barely salvageable," you explained, walking past Steven. "It's also private. Hardly opened. Very little foot traffic." You turned and gave him a knowing glance. His eyes widened and a blush graced his upper cheeks but he tried to seem cool about it. After all, Steven Grant wasn't usually one to think about workplace rendezvous. He was far too interested in the work itself.
"Oh," was all he said. Adorably bashful, you'd have to admit.
You digressed. "But the Miller-Kayes dig in Utah had obscene amounts of periphery material brought back. Most of it is in here, and most of what's in here is from that dig," you took another deep breath in and out, then gave him an apologetic look. "We have to find it."
"Right," he rolled up his metaphorical sleeves. "Where should we start?"
You suggested starting on opposite ends, meeting in the middle at the back and then scanning either side of the central shelf in tandem. He agreed, and you got to work.
You wouldn't call it groundbreaking or fascinating work, but you also wouldn't call it boring. Not when Steven would exclaim in a child-like wonder every ten or fifteen minutes because he was so infatuated with everything he was seeing. Sometimes he'd call out and tell you what he was so excited about, and sometimes that would turn into a lesson, and then a conversation. No, it certainly wasn't the worst day of work you'd had.
It was taking a lot longer than you'd anticipated though, and about the time you'd reached the halfway mark of the shelves on the perimeter, you started longing for lunch. Steven agreed.
"Just one more box," you called, halfway up the ladder. Steven emerged from around the corner to see where you were at, wiping his dusty hands on a dubious rag you definitely wouldn't have trusted.
Your hands closed around the plastic container and pulled it towards you. However, you didn't anticipate it to be as light as it was. Having spent the past several hours pulling on boxes that far outmatched your strength, you entirely overcompensated.
You gasped as your body was propelled backwards by the momentum of your pull. The large box flew past your head and ripped through your fingers, while your other gentle grasp on the ladder was pulled away from force.
You were falling backwards, sure to land hard and painfully against the concrete floor that lay ten feet below. With a sharp intake of breath, you braced to be badly hurt. Instead, you landed less than gracefully in Steven's arms. Your arms immediately looped around his neck as he made a minor adjustment to keep you from tumbling further, hiking you just a little higher into his arms.
"Steven," you gasped out, resting your head against his shoulder for a second in pure relief before pulling back to look him dead in the eyes. "The things this body is capable of, huh?" You laughed nervously. "My hero," you smiled cheekily, letting it grow into a grin. Steven cracked a small, awkward half-smile.
But it was different than the way Steven smiled, and Marc would've declared himself your saviour. Steven's heart would be wildly racing, he'd be asking you if you were okay, even though he'd saved you from certain serious injury. Marc would've cracked some joking comment that had the weight of someone concerned behind it. But he just smiled, and then looked away when it felt like too much to be so close to you.
Jake placed your feet gently on the floor, and you unwrapped your arms from around his shoulders.
"Sorry," you chuckled, taking a step back, rubbing your arm in a self-soothing motion and looking at your feet on the solid ground.
"What, you're sorry to see me?" He teased.
Wait, he... teased? You furrowed your brow for a second and then look up to see him looking more unsteady than you'd ever seen. You thought of some cute quip to say back, but thought he needed to hear the truth:
"Never."
That seemed to catch him off guard. Especially since you'd said it so sincerely. He opened then closed his mouth, and then gave you a suspicious glance. Sensing you may have made it too much, you picked up your clipboard and turned to the box that'd been forced open by its fall. "Even though last time, you know, you kinda creeped on me while I was sleeping."
"Gracioso," he chuckled once. "You slept soundly with me close by."
That comment, mixed with the low timbre of his voice, sent a swell of flustered butterflies through your stomach and a strike of desire coursing through your chest. Thank goodness he couldn't see your face.
You gave him more honesty, while still ignoring that comment until you could figure out how to respond to it. "You've only ever kept me safe." You crouched by the cracked plastic container and then looked up at him with a wry smile. "Even from the clutches of a multi-legged insect," you grinned and then examined the contents of the box.
He walked over, wordlessly. You stood, after you'd surmounted it was a box full of trash someone was too lazy to throw away, and turned to find him an arm's length away. His gaze was penetrating, but also honest and, for the first time, a little vulnerable. Your lips parted at the intensity of his brown-eyed stare. He looked back and forth between your eyes and for a second you thought he might-
"Why?" He asked.
"Why what?" You turned to place the clipboard on the ladder, then turned back and met his gaze again. It was hard to not want to, considering how long it'd been since someone looked at you the way he did. It was hard to explain.
"That. All that," he gestured to you and you fought a smile. "Why are you tryin'… all of that."
You raised an eyebrow. It was nice seeing him so uncharacteristically cautious. "All of what?"
"To be… you know, nice."
"Jake," you laughed, a little sadly. "I'm just treating you like a person is supposed to be treated."
He searched your features desperately wanting to believe you. He looked for any sign of malice or manipulation. He looked for the tell that you were playing him, or just trying to figure him out so Marc and Steven could cut him off from the body. At least, that's what you assumed he was looking for.
From instinct, from being around this body, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. Jake flinched and his eyes shut for a second, so you stopped your hand mid-air. Your heart sank, because you knew it wasn't personal. When someone reacted the way he did, they'd been taught to fear an initiated touch.
The thought reminded you of the first time Marc and Layla told you about Steven.
You'd been there for Layla when Marc had disappeared off the face of the earth. You'd held her through it, as much as someone like her would allow herself to be held. It would've been impossible to not explain where he'd been, what had happened, and the reality of his mental health when he’d returned.
Marc was careful, and not too open, when he explained that Steven existed because he needed to escape their mother, who violently blamed him for the accidental death of his little brother. His mind decisively split open to protect him from the times she'd thunder up the stairs with whiskey on her breath and false retribution beneath her nails.
For the first time, now remembering back in the kitchen when Jake recoiled at your hand, you considered the possibility that Marc wasn't the one protecting Steven.
Maybe it wasn't Marc who was bearing the undeserved punishment for that fateful accident.
Maybe it was Jake, who was being told over and over again that he deserved it. Every lash telling him he was a monster, every venomous word from her mouth reminding him that he should never feel anything good in this life.
Maybe Jake bore it all so they wouldn't have to.
Here and now, you gave him a level look and said, ”You’re not unworthy of kindness.”
Jake winced and shook his head, taking a step back and scrunching his eyes in a grimace. You'd crossed a line.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, letting your hand fall back by your side. "I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't," he whispered back, then looked up in pain and tried to give you an apologetic smile for the way he'd reacted to you. "You're sweet," he grunted. You understood the meaning behind it, so you smiled sadly.
You'd made it clear that you thought he deserved something good, so it felt excessive to say it again. At worst it could sound pushy, and the last thing you wanted to do was push him away.
Still, you had to try something.
"You're hungry too, right? Steven said so." You turned and pretended to look at something on your clipboard, to make this whole thing less intense.
"Uh, yeah," he mumbled. You looked back up and him and saw the face of a conflicted man. So you didn't give him any chance to doubt.
You picked up the clipboard. "There's a good lunch spot just a few minutes away." Then, you walked past him with the confidence of someone who expected him to follow.
When you got to the door and pulled it open, you turned to see him rooted to that spot. He hung his head and then stood up straight and turned towards you. For a second, he looked too calm to be any of them. But you knew.
"Jake?" You called in prompt, holding the door open.
"Yeah," he looked at you for several long seconds and then allowed himself a brief smile. "Lunch sounds nice."
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vi-sinner · a month ago
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my friends: “He’s violent and a murderer, and will hurt anyone who gets in his way”
me: “but…he’s so pretty 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”
2K notes · View notes
grantfilms · 25 days ago
Text
Marc helping you shower after you’ve been attacked
warnings: Not much, mentions of blood, reader being slightly in shock
this is unedited so im sorry for any spelling mistakes
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Marc had found you curled up on the wet floor outside a corner shop with fresh bruises covering your face and ribs, a gash over your eyebrow and a bloody nose. He seethed with rage, demanding that you tell him who did this to you but when you weren’t responding only staring blankly ahead and shivering in the rain, thats when he realised it was not the time for being angry. You needed him.
He carried you in his arms back to the flat and gently sat you down on the bed so he could kneel down to meet your eyes “Baby…look at me” he whispered softly and you trembled as you turned to face him, he had to force himself not to become angry all over again when you winced just at the slightest movement. What could you have possibly done for someone to do this. His hand found yours and he held it as tenderly as he could stroking your reddened knuckles with his thumb “Come on, i’ll help you shower” you nodded and he helped you stand, leading you to the shower and sitting you down on the lid of the toilet. He smiled sadly at you and brought his hands up to craddle your face as he kissed your forehead, he shut his eyes to fight back the tears that welled in his eyes hearing you whimper in pain.
He didnt want to let go of you, the way you sunk into his touch and sighed in relief, the realisation that you were safe once again. You pulled back slightly giving him the sign he can let go and which he did but hesitantly, your eyes looked up to meet his for the first time since he brought you inside and it hurt you to see him so upset and genuinely afraid. As much as you wanted to caress his soft skin, you were in far too much pain for it.
Once the water finally became lukewarm, Marc had gently taken off your clothes along with his and helped you inside the large glass box, his arms wrapped around you protectively when the water hit your sore skin causing you to flinch against him, his grip tightened and he placed his chin on your shoulder “it’s okay honey, im here its me do you wanna face me instead?” you nodded and turned around so the water was now running down your back along with his soft fingertips. You both stayed. like that for awhile, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders and the other around your waist so he was holding you securely against him, you had both of your arms under his biceps and your hands holding onto his back with your head resting on his shoulder.
You could feel yourself falling asleep at the feeling of him grabbing the soapy sponge and rubbing it against your back, washing away the blood. He made sure to keep you against him and avoid you noticing the blood, not that it helped because as soon as you looked down your eyes squinted and filled with tears at the orange tinted water running down your legs, your body shook slightly against Marc and he sighed “oh baby its okay..its okay dont cry” he held the sponge against the back of your neck and pulled away to look at you “you’re safe, i swear to you that nothing like this will happen again do you hear me?” he said with worried eyes and again you nodded your head “yeah” you replied shakily.
Marc began washing you again, this time rubbing the sponge down your arms and across your chest, kissing at the skin afterwards to reassure you. Once he got to your face he dropped the sponge and grabbed a cloth, rising it and bringing it to your cheeks and as gently as he possibly could he wiped away the blood across them, across your forehead, your eyebrows, your jaw, your chin and then your nose. Luckily you didnt flinch that much and he kissed the tip of your nose “good girl” he smiled “you’re so brave”. Your heart fluttered at his words and you actually smiled. “there she is” he laughed and you scoffed burying your head back into his chest, you felt the rumble of his chest but he was quick to cradle the back of your head nonetheless.
He helped you rinse yourself off and wrapped you in a towel kissing your shoulder, trailing them up to your jaw then locking eyes with you “You are so beautiful my love” you felt your cheeks burn red and he smiled cheekily “lets get you into bed yeah?” he said softly and you nodded back at him.
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burnthoneymint · a month ago
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— make your tea and your toast | commission
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special thanks to @magpie-scribbles for commissioning me! thank you so much dear, this was an absolute blast to write and I had the best time! hope you enjoy xx
pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader, marc spector x fem!reader
genre: smut with a lil' bit of feeling (all of it with jake). minors dni
word count: 4.5k
summary: your first time meeting jake lockley. an alter neither steven nor marc knows about.
warnings: oral (receiving), vaginal s.ex, dirty talk, degradation, overstimulation, choking, dom!jake but also soft!jake best of both worlds, established relationship with both marc & steven, reader works at the museum, the use of slut & whore, rough s.ex
a/n: I kind of imagined this to be set after the series finale. The switches between steven and marc are smooth, they also don't know about jake.
disclaimer: the depictions of DID in this fic is based off of the show and the research I did on google, I am in no way saying that this is how it works so please take all of that info with a grain of salt. I am not a medical professional.
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Your head between your hands, you stared blankly at your laptop. A warning had popped up, a warning you absolutely dreaded to see, especially on a day that a new exhibit was coming to the museum. The fluorescent lights of your office agitated your eyes, you blinked, then you blinked again. Your eyelids stuck together. A sigh left your lips and you lean back into your chair, oh how you wished this day would be over already. 
“Hey beautiful,” 
Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing a faint knock at your glass door, the familiarity of the voice soothing you instantly. 
“Hey gorgeous,” you replied, smiling. 
Steven was awkwardly standing at the door, hands in front of him as he drew small air circles with his thumbs. Noticing his worryful gaze, you realized that he saw you wallowing in your own self pity over your frozen computer. He took a step forward, his one hand leaving his front as he nervously scratched the back of his head. 
“Are you alright, love?” 
“I am–” you cut yourself off with a sigh and a shake of your head. You had promised him previously that you wouldn’t do this anymore. You wouldn’t hide what you truly felt about the situations unfolding around you. “I’m frustrated and overworked. My computer froze just as I was about to put in the serial numbers of all the artifacts that are arriving today,” 
“The Hecate exhibit?” 
Steven quickly got behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders in a comforting manner. He gently squeezed your tense muscles, a relaxed groan parted your lips. 
“Yeah…” 
“Is there anything I can do to help?” 
“You can buy me a new computer,” 
He chuckled, it’s such a lovely sound. It lightens the weight that drowns your stressed heart. 
“No can do, darling. I can barely make rent. Very sorry about that.” he hummed. “Why not ask that insufferable Donna? this is museum work after all, it’s not like you’re playing games,” 
“Yeah– I don’t think the museum has the budget, Steven. And I do not want to hear Donna rant about it again,” 
“Fair enough,” 
While you conversed with one another, Steven continued to massage your shoulders. His hands traveled down to your upper back, fingers dipping into the sides of your spine. Warmth spread throughout your body, your head slowly falling back as soft moans parted from you. His one hand climbed back up to your neck, thumb pressing against your nape and smoothing down the soft tendons. 
“How have you been by the way?” you managed to ask despite your relaxed, yet fleeting, euphoria. “How’s Marc?” 
“I’m well,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “Marc is too, as well as he can be that is. He yammers on too much, gives me a headache,” 
You sighed, spinning along with your chair, you faced Steven. You hated not feeling his hands against your skin anymore, but you wanted to see him. His knees brushed upon yours, a shudder climbing up your back at the simple contact of bodies. Steven leaned down, his hands resting on the armrests of your chair. You felt his breath, a hint of coffee still lingering. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin warm and scolding against your own. Your eyes flutter closed and you bit the inside of your cheek. 
Your breath stuttered when you spoke.  
“I’ve missed you,” 
“I’ve missed you too,” 
The air around Steven changed in an instant, it was a subtle change but you’ve grown accustomed to it. For you, telling the difference was as easy as breathing. Marc raised his hands up from the armrests and cupped your cheeks, thumbs drawing slow, gentle circles as he closed the distance. The way he kissed you was different from the way Steven kisses you. Marc’s lips move in a soft, yet incisive way. He doesn’t hesitate swiping his tongue over your lips, wordlessly asking you to open up for him, which you always do with an enthusiastic eagerness. 
You moaned at the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth, exploring, delving deeper. He was sucking the air from your lungs, leaving you desperate, your body electrified, and desperate for more.
When he parted, you whined at the loss of contact. Marc smiled at the sound, thumb tracing the outline of your wet lips. Even the way he looked at you was different. Full of love, that part was similar to Steven, with lingering feelings of believing the love he was receiving was undeserved. After all this time, you still weren’t able to convince him that he deserved every single drop you had to offer. 
“I’ve missed you too, you know. You see Steven all the time,” he chuckled. “It’s been a while since we saw each other.” 
That was true. Unlike Steven, you didn’t have the luxury to see Marc at work. You haven’t been visiting that often either due to late nights at the office. 
“How about I visit you guys this afternoon? I should be able to get off a bit early if I work quick enough. I’ll buy those little cakes Steven likes and we can have tea,” 
You almost burst out laughing when Marc stuck his bottom lip out. 
“Why does it have to be a tea date?” 
“Because it’s–” you raised your hands as if you were forming a rainbow between them. “Aesthetic,” 
When Marc continued to stare at you, unamused, you add. 
“I’ll bring us beer and pizza too? For dinner?” 
His lips twisted into a sly smirk, his one hand fell to your thigh and pushed it up, stopping only an inch away from your clothed heat. You held your breath, chest raising almost all the way up to your chin. 
“You might as well stay the night if you’re staying for dinner,” 
“I like the sound of that,” 
The hand suddenly disappeared, he jolted up, a large wide grin spreading across his lips. The constant self pity that lingered in his eyes was gone, Steven was back and happier than ever. 
“You’ll be staying? Did I hear that right darling?” 
A breathless chuckle rippled from your throat, still feeling warm and dizzy thanks to Marc. 
“Yeah, hope that’s alright?” 
“Of course my love!” Steven quickly headed to the door, waving you off. “I’ll be leaving it to you then, time to get to work, chop chop!” 
You called out after him.
“I can’t do much with my computer frozen, you know?” 
“Just press control, alt, delete, love. I keep telling you. That’s how you shut down those stubborn programs,”   
With that, you’re all alone in your office once more. It felt even lonelier now, the lights more annoying. You turned back to your computer, doing just as Steven advised you to do. Of course, it worked. 
You smiled, you couldn’t wait now more than ever for the work day to come to an end.
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You stood nervously in front of the door, fingers on both hands aching as they held bags full of food and drinks. It truly has been a while since you found yourself right outside their doorstep. You really should try to make more time for both Steven and Marc, the museum wouldn’t collapse just because you were taking a bit of time for yourself and loved ones. 
Inhaling one deep breath, you kicked the door with the tip of your foot. Silence followed your unconventional knock. The walls of his apartment were thin, so usually you would hear noises coming from inside, steps rushing towards the door to let you in. But nothing of the sort happened, tilting your head, you attempted to knock again– 
The door suddenly opened, you staggered back, shocked that you couldn’t hear anything. 
“Let me help you with that,” 
Before you could identify which alter was greeting you, he took the bags and rushed inside. You thought that perhaps it was Steven, he would be the one to be anxious over your date. But he hadn’t even glanced at you, which was odd because you had worn the ankh shaped necklace he had gotten you from the gift shop. You were confused, but also glad that your fingers were free from the clutches of the bags. Passing through the threshold, you rubbed your fingers together and closed the door with a push of your heel. 
“How was work?” 
His voice sounded strained, troubled. You watch him with a raise of your eyebrow, he laid all of the things you bought on top of the kitchen counter. You still couldn’t get a clear view of his face, he had adjusted his hair in a way that would hide his gaze, the ends of them curling slightly. The lack of British accent made you think of Marc, but there was something still slightly different about the way he spoke.
“It was good, managed to finish early like promised,” the stifling aura that lingered in the messy apartment edged you to be cautious. You took a step forward. “Are you alright–?” 
You wanted to end your question with a name but you still weren't sure who you were talking to. 
“I’m fine. Just a bit tired,” 
The two of you marinate in the uncomfortable silence. Your eyes shifted to the windows, they were both wide open, meaning that the air was suffocating only due to the two of you. He had both his hands on the counter, looking down at the groceries with a gaze that could put holes through the food. Your lips felt incredibly dry as you took a step forward. Only his eyes moved, his gaze snapping towards you. The look was enough to stop you in your tracks. You lick your lips. 
“You’re not Marc,” your chest heaved. “Or Steven, are you?” 
“I’m not, sweetheart. No.” 
A dry chuckle left his lips, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. 
“I promise you I’m more than enough,” 
“Do you…have a name?” 
His eyes widened momentarily before bursting out with laughter. The sound echoed across the walls. He’s loud, the laughter itself enough to shake the very floor you stood on. But you supposed it was alright since now he seems more relaxed. He rolled his shoulders and he straightened his back. Fingers leaving the counter, he let out a deep breath that looked like he was holding until now. 
“Of course I have a name,” he said, turning fully to you. “My name’s Jake.” 
“Jake,” you repeated, feeling the way his name felt between your lips. The way his eyes darken didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Nice name,” 
You shifted from one leg to another, chewing the inside of your cheek. Your eyes were glued to his, you didn’t want him to feel unwelcome by hiding your gaze, or acting as if you were bothered. Jake raised his eyebrow, the right corner of his lips tugging up in an amused manner. 
“Do you know who I am?” you asked. 
“I do,” 
“Ah, good–” 
“You’re part of the reason why I’m here, they– They don’t know I exist, at least not right now,” 
“What?” 
Jake rushed to your side, your heart squeezing with his every step. He stopped only an inch away from you. His dark eyes scanning your slightly shocked countenance, he raised his hand. You held your breath, the inside of your ears whizzing as your heart thudded loudly. His hand stilled an inch away from your cheek, you could feel the warmth of his flesh. He let out a languid breath. 
“Can I touch you?” 
Your mind swirled but you managed to nod anyway. He gently placed his hand against the side of your face. His palm scorched your skin, much warmer than you felt previously before. 
“It’s no fair you know,” he said, a slight venom in his voice. “They get to be with you. Work with you. Eat with you. Laugh with you. Touch you. Fuck you,”  
The anger he felt simmered in his tone, voice raspier, quieter. Your stomach churned, the inside of your palm sweaty yet cold at the same time. You wanted to take a step back but you couldn’t, despite his excellent hiding of his emotions, you saw the hurt within his eyes. Jake was similar to Marc in that regard. So much pain for a man to bear. His fingers slid to your throat, curling gently around the column of your neck. Your breath hitched. He’s not squeezing, only holding, softly grazing his blunt nails against your skin. He locked his eyes on your lips. 
“Why do they get to have you? Why not me?” 
“Well, to actually answer you question, the fact that none of us knew about you might be one of the reasons,” 
Jake’s eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes. You’re afraid that you’ve offended him somehow but when his lips crack a smile, you’re visibly relieved. 
“You know about me now,” he rolled his tongue, his smile never wavering. “So, what are you going to do about it?” 
In all honesty, you weren’t sure. You didn’t know Jake. You didn’t know what type of person he was or how he fitted in Steven’s and Marc’s lives. You also weren't sure if the other alters would be alright with it. Steven didn’t mind sharing you with Marc and vice versa, but what if they weren’t alright with sharing you with Jake? That was a possibility. Still, you couldn’t shake off the look Jake was giving you. So broken, full of internalized anger from god knows what. He was a part of them. A part of them they currently didn’t know about. 
“I…I don’t know,” 
Jake became visibly annoyed by this. He leaned in closer, placing his other hand on your upper back. He stroked your clothed skin, watching as you closed your eyes and trembled with his touch. You couldn’t help it. They might be different. Act different. Feel different. But it was still the same body you lusted over touching you. His lips stretched out into a grin. Lips barely grazing against the underside of your jaw. 
“You know, when the other’s take the front, I still can feel. It’s more like your skin ghosting over mine, constantly. I can feel the heat, the warmth. For instance today, I felt how excited you were to have us touch you, feel you against our open palm. Isn’t that why you offered to stay over? So we could fuck you?” 
A shudder ran up your spine. His lips now fully pressed against your skin, moving towards your neck. You wanted to step away, just so you could breathe a little, but the hand on your back prevented you, pushing you closer to him. Your chest now flushed against his, you could feel his defined muscles from underneath his shirt. Your breasts are aching to rub against him like a dog in heat. Thickly swallowing, you slightly pushed them into his chest. It felt good, too good. A soft moan trickled from your lips. 
Jake’s hand that was idly resting on your back slid down to your buttocks, he squeezed the flesh, chuckling as he grazed his teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck. You flinched at the roughness he possessed, inactively rubbing yourself against his broad torso. 
“Seems to me that you know exactly what you want to do,” he keened. “I just want to hear you admit it, mi amor,” 
The vaguely familiar word of endearment took you by surprise. You blinked at him, eyebrows raised. 
“You know spanish?” 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” 
His voice became soft, gentle. His lips pressing against the skin right above your jugular, he left a small kiss that sent a wave of heat throughout your body. Jake continued to decorate your skin with open mouthed, wet kisses. It drowned out every needless thought you might have. You’re shaking, knees on the brink of giving out. His hand was the only thing holding you up. 
“I still haven’t heard you admit it,” he teased. “Didn’t you come here to get fucked?” 
“I…that’s not all,” 
“Admit it.” 
You swallowed, staring at him between half lidded eyes. 
“Y-yes. I…did come here in hopes of–” you licked your lips, voice trembling. “–Getting fucked,” 
“Good girl,” 
His teeth sunk into your flesh, jolts of pain mixed with pleasure blossoming against your skin. You cried out, your hands clawing at his chest as you buried your face into him. He smelled of Marc, Steven. The scent soothed you, made your heart flutter. His tongue danced across the fresh dents that your skin now possessed. Jake pulled back, his pupils were dilated, almost covering the entirety of his chocolate eyes. He took a step forward then another, forcing you to walk backwards. The steps you took with him were familiar, a route you often followed whenever you visited. Coldness returned to your body, heart almost leaping out of your throat as you spread your fingers across Jake’s chest, silently telling him to stop. 
Understanding, he stilled his steps. 
“What is it?” 
“Can we…Can we use the couch instead?” 
“The couch?” 
You didn’t want to outright admit that you didn’t want to use the bed for Marc’s and Steven’s sake. You still weren’t sure how alright they would be with all of this, and despite what your body was screaming you to do, you still had your reservations about Jake. He seemed to understand where you were coming from. His eyes wandered across your face and finally he gave in. 
“Alright.” 
With that you found yourself laying on the semi-comfortable couch with Jake between your legs. He crashed your lips together, teeth clicking, his mouth wide and tongue already pushing inside. You opened up for him, letting him devour you entirely. Jake's hands roamed across your body, dipping into every curve and every patch of skin. Your hips involuntarily thrusted up, seeking for friction, seeking for his cock. Breaking the kiss, he tutted disapprovingly. With both hands he pinned your hips back down to the couch and licked the inside of your mouth, he nipped at your bottom lip as he spoke. 
“And what do you think you’re doing?” he rasped. “So all of that ‘I’m not so sure I want to do this’ behavior was all bulshit, huh?” 
“I– No,” 
“Liar,” 
Jake slid down the couch, his face now an inch away from your clothed cunt, he quickly tugged at your pants, pulling them down along with your panties. He hummed upon seeing your glistening cunt, your face heating up at the way his lips curled upward. Not wanting to see his smug expression any longer, you covered your eyes and pressed the heels of your palms against them. A whimper left you, his lips delicately kissing a trail up from your exposed knees towards your thighs. This felt like Steven. The softness, the gentleness of his lips. 
But then he bit you and that reminded you of Marc. 
You hissed at the pain, looking down, you noticed that he was glaring at you, brows knitted together as his nostrils flared. 
“Don’t close your eyes, I want you to watch,” 
If your face was burning before, now, it was absolutely ablaze.  
“Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like you never felt my tongue inside of this beautiful cunt before,” 
“That might be true but it’s still my first time with you,” 
His eyebrows raised up all the way to his hairline, disappearing behind the hair covering his forehead. Without saying a word, he dipped between your legs and flattened his tongue against your folds. You whimpered, one hand immediately interlacing itself with his dark curls. With the tip of his tongue, Jake drew quick circles around your clit and flicked it. You watched with wide eyes as he groaned, his eyes closed while he tasted you. Seeing him added to the pleasure you felt, every time you saw that pink tongue disappearing inside of you, you moaned. Loudly. 
“Fuck, do you always get this wet or am I just that good?” 
He peered at you through his dark eyelashes. Breathing heavily, you just stared at him. 
“Come on answer me, I’ll stop if you don’t.” 
“I’m…I’m always this wet for all of you,” 
“I knew you were a slut but had no idea it was this bad,” he snarled. “Do you like being my perfect little slut? My perfect toy that I pleasure myself to,” 
You breathed out. 
“Y-Yes,” 
“Does my slut want to come?” 
You whined, eyelids fluttering, you pushed your dripping cunt closer to his mouth. He took this as a yes, inching closer, he violently pressed his lips against your folds, tongue forcibly pushing into your aching hole. You screamed out, your head falling back as you pulled at his hair. Jake fucked you with his tongue, shallowly thrusting in and out of you as his fingers dug into your thighs. You’re squirming, body arching in an uncomfortable manner. The top of his nose kept on brushing against your clit, the coil within you tightening– 
“Jake!” you moan out, thighs trembling. “Jake,” 
He doesn’t reply to your cries, he parted his lips, moving them along the lips of your cunt as he wiggled his tongue forward. Your juices were overflowing, wetting his chin and staining the couch underneath. You begin to grind your hips against his mouth, so desperate, so needy. A growl trembled within his chest, his teeth softly nipped at your folds. Your insides were burning, tingling, your mind fuzzy, not knowing who’s name to call out anymore. You’re thinking of them all– The sweetness of Steven, the harsh tenderness of Marc, the absolutely bone shattering presence of Jake– 
You cried out, gushing all over Jake’s tongue. 
Your hips jerked, body shaking uncontrollably as your cunt throbbed and twitched. His tongue continued to move inside of you, slurping everything you had to offer. You’re dazed, eyes unfocused. Your body stilled, the pleasure still coursing through your veins. Everything felt so intense, you’re completely spent. Jake finally parted away from your over sensitive core and looked up, he traced the outline of your inner thighs with his lips. 
“Hope you’re not gonna tell me that you’re tired,” he said whilst licking his lips. “We’re just getting to the good part,” 
You groaned when he flipped you to your stomach. His strong hands took a hold of your waist and pulled your buttocks into the air. Immediately your back arched for him, waiting to feel the blunt tip of his cock. Your wish was soon answered, pleasure bloomed within you all over again, a soft whine tearing away from your lips. 
Jake let out a stuttered breath as he pushed in, you’re embarrassed how easy it was, the flatness of his pelvis immediately felt up against your ass. Your lips parted, chest heaving uncontrollably. Jake felt so thick inside, stretching you in a mind numbingly pleasurable way. He let his cock rest inside of you, his hands spreading across your back and sliding up to your shoulders. Holding you, he squeezed and lifted your upper body from the couch. His one hand snuck under your shirt while the other came around your throat, experimentally squeezing as the other cupped your breast. You gasped and with that he squeezed harder. 
He pulled back his hips a torturously slow way, only the tip remaining inside, he slammed his cock right back in–  Your breath caught in your throat, you desperately tried to breathe. He snapped his hips over and over again, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the apartment. His fingers closed around your throat, blocking the airway and making you choke. 
“Who fucks you best?” he hummed, hips moving faster. 
Only choked out nonsense left your chapped lips. He squeezed harder, pulling you flush against his chest. You felt his damp lips pressing against your ear, you shuddered. 
“Tell me,” 
You couldn’t pick one. You just couldn’t. 
“I bet the other two can’t fuck you like this,” he growled. “They’re too gentle with you– But you don’t want that do you? You want to be fucked like the good little whore you are– You want to be used, isn’t that right?” 
Jake pinched your nipple and a rugged scream tore from your throat. The pacing he set for you was hard, fast. Every thrust of his hips made you see white, the edges of your vision started to become blurry. He grinded his hips, making you feel every curve, every inch of his cock. 
“Look at you, can’t even answer me,” he panted heavily, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. “Come on now, tell me who fucks you best,” 
“Y-You,” 
You’re surprised by the reply that left your lips, an immediate sense of regret settled in your gut but you couldn’t make a sane decisions when Jake’s cock just felt so fucking good. His hips only stuttered for a moment, the fingers around your throat found the sides of your chin and turned you sharply so that you would face him. You ignored the strain in your neck as he kissed you– Slow, sensual, mind numblingly full of love. This time, instead of directly dominating your mouth, your tongues danced along one another. His thrusts slow but still hard, the length of his cock brushing against your deepest parts as he claimed you both ways. 
You’re flustered, which is a funny thing to be feeling while he’s fucking you into the very core of the earth. But the way his tongue moved against yours, the way his cock moved inside, suddenly all of it had become so tender. Your heart fluttered uncontrollably, face burning as the love you felt for them all bursted from your every pore. Jake must’ve felt it because he broke the kiss, dragging his lips across your sweaty cheek and nuzzling the crook of your neck. 
That combined with the force of his cock was enough to push you over the edge. 
This time you came nice and hard, a ring of cream coating the base of his cock as Jake continued to slam his hips. You’re sobbing, tears streaming down your face, the pleasure proving to be overwhelming. His hand moved across your face, feeling the wetness of your tears. This time he thrusts only for himself, desperately searching for his own release. Your cunt squeezed around him, the tremors of your orgasm still very much in place. 
Jake swiftly pulled out, leaving you empty and hollow feeling as he fisted his cock over your back. He groaned and soon something hot and sticky coats the small of your back, an uncontrollable shiver seized your body and you moan out his name. 
Both yours and Jake’s heavy breathing filled the room. You turned only to collapse on your back, Jake’s staring at you between heavy lids. He seemed troubled, deep in thought, you opened up your arms, inviting him for an embrace. His eyes moved along your body and landed on your face. He took one deep breath and surrendered. He fell on top of you, allowing you to hug him. Your hands went up and down his back in a similar fashion Steven had done for you this morning. Jake hid his smile by burying his face into your neck, but you felt it against your skin. 
“It’ll be alright,” you whispered. “I’m yours too.” 
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A/N: to be notified of future work follow @burnthoneymintsathenaeum​ and turn on notifications✨
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