#jake lockely x you

[pimosworld]

Blueberry Pancakes

Moon knight system x f!reader

Summary- You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.

CW-NSFW, 18+ MDNI, Depictions of DID, Smut, mentions of sex, Unprotected piv,fingering,rough sex,slight dom Jake, piv cream pie,cum,light angst, fluff.

Please let me know in the comments if I missed any warnings.

WC-3k

Not beta-read

———————————————————

You slowly blink open your eyes taking in the soft morning light of the flat you share with your boyfriend-boyfriends. You’ve been spoiled by Marc and Steven for a year now and you couldn’t be happier. The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts amongst the flat and you can’t help the bittersweet feeling that consumes you.

Jake makes you blueberry pancakes.

Despite doing all the things a loving, caring boyfriend does- he refuses to front. A simple hi and bye is the most you’ve gotten out of him. It shouldn’t bother you really, you have two wonderful men that kiss the ground you walk on. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t think he deserves to be a part of this the way Marc and Steven are.

You're pulled from your thoughts as the door to the bathroom opens and you're graced with the sight of Marc stalking towards you only wrapped in a towel. His broad shoulders and chest are still dripping with water from the shower. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You smile up at him feeling slightly guilty. You secretly hope one of these mornings it’s Jake emerging from the bathroom still glistening from the shower, he climbs into bed and fucks you like his life depends on it and you both enjoy those sweet blueberry pancakes together.

“Prince Charming made you pancakes again.” He says sarcastically as he makes his way to the closet to get dressed.

It seems to be a sore subject for Marc as you think back to the first time he made them. Marc excused himself from the table as you moaned into every bite. You didn’t miss the way he glared into his reflection in the toaster while he stood in the kitchen waiting for you to finish.

“You know I love you and you make the best omelet.” You say as you make your way out of bed and wrap him in a tight hug from behind.

“Yes but you don’t sound like we’re fucking when you eat my omelet.”

You nip at his back and smack his ass on your way out of the bedroom. As much as he calls you a brat he definitely has his moments.

You make your way to the kitchen to enjoy your breakfast before you have to head to work. As you sit down to take your first bite you feel Marc’s eyes on you. You look up from your plate and see him with arms crossed and a smirk on his gorgeous face. You cock your head to the side and take a slow bite stifling a moan, because now is not the time.

“Are you going to watch me eat the whole thing?” You say playfully as you watch him make his way to the coffee maker that Jake got ready for Marc-because you prefer tea.

He doesn’t respond right away so you think this is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been bothering you.

“Why won’t he spend time with me?”

Marc groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I’ve already told you, please just leave it alone.”

“Is he listening now?”

“No sweetheart.” Yes cariño

“Well if you could tell him, I really really love pancakes.”

“Sure thing.” Marc says with slight annoyance.

****

You turn the key to enter your flat and as you open the door you're greeted with the sight of your boyfriend on the couch pecking at you over the bridge of his reading glasses.

“Hey love.” Steven smiles sweetly at you as he sets his book on the coffee table. “How was your day?” He always directed his full attention at you, as if you were the moon and the stars.

“It was fine.” You say rather unconvincing.

“Oh just fine,that won’t do.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch. “Come have a seat, let's talk.”

You make your way over to the couch and sit down and he grabs your legs placing them in his lap as you lean your back on the opposite arm rest. He takes your heels off one by one and begins rubbing your aching feet.

“I know you had pancakes this morning so the day started off better than fine.” He says jokingly with a smirk on his face.

“Well…that’s just it.” You say slightly embarrassed about what you're about to ask the sweet man rubbing your feet as he does most nights after a long day at work. “Could you help me with something?”

“Depends on what it is but anything for you love.”

“Could you…help me spend some time with Jake?” You say almost at a whisper.

He ceases rubbing your feet and looks at you with those deep brown pleading eyes. “You know how he is…but if it’s important to you I’ll try.”

You sit up enthusiastically and curl into Stevens' side wrapping your arms around his waist in a gripping hug.

“Okay, what does he like to eat?Does he have any favorite hobbies?What kind of shows does he watch? What’s his favorite color?…you realize your rambling like Steven does when he’s giving a tour at the museum, not even giving the poor man a chance to answer.

“Slow down love, one thing at a time.” He furrows his brow deep in thought. “Oh bollocks, I’m afraid I’m no help. I don’t know what he likes to eat, I’m pretty sure his favorite hobby is murder, he barely watches television and…well.” He chuckles to himself.

“What’s so funny.” You say slightly defeated

“Oh it’s nothing, it's just that I’m pretty sure his favorite color is red since he’s practically always covered in it.”

Steven looks at his reflection in the t.v. and suddenly drops his smile. “Right…well that’s about all I can help you with sorry love.” He stammers out quickly.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” He says as he hangs his head. Your sweet Steven has no idea how helpful he truly is.

You slide your hand to his cheek and tilt his head down at you placing a soft kiss on his lips. You sit up to straddle his lap and you can feel him getting hard for you already. As you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to whisper in his ear, you can tell his breath is ragged.

“I’d like to show you how helpful you are, if you’ll let me?” You bite down on his earlobe and hear his breath catch in his throat.

“I’d like that very much love.”

****

It’s Friday night, it’s been three days since Steven helped you-and you helped Steven. You’ve been planning and hoping that what you have in store will draw Jake out of hiding. If not you’ll just have to live with his silent affections.

Steven is relaxing on the couch as you stand in front of your full length mirror putting on the final touches to your look. It didn’t take much convincing to have him spend the night with you if things don’t go according to plan.

You got your hair done that morning, something you rarely treat yourself too. As you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel slightly turned on- this has to work.

You adjust the straps on your silk red dress and smooth your hands down the front. You slide in your strappy red heels that you hope you won’t have to walk very far tonight. You lean into the mirror to apply your crimson red lipstick to match the red you applied to your nails earlier that day.

As you grab your purse and make your way towards the door you can feel Stevens' eyes on you. You don’t dare glance over at him suddenly feeling like a predator's prey.

“Bye love, I’m going out with some friends, don't wait up for me.”

You reach for the door but an unfamiliar voice stops you in your tracks.

“Bebita I don’t think your boyfriends would be too happy about this.” You turn around to see Jake with his eyes narrowed as if he’s studying your movements.

“My boyfriends don’t care if I go out.” Your voice cracks a little and you're suddenly aware of how dry your throat is.

“I didn’t mean if you go out cariño.” He stands from the couch and you suddenly feel very small. “I mean dressed like this.” He gestures his fingers up and down your body.

“Maaarrrc…Steeeeven?” You mockingly call about the flat. “I guess they aren’t here so I’ll be going.”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror next to the door feigning confidence.

“You’ll be staying.” He says in a commanding tone that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.

You grab the door handle and look over your shoulder with the most sultry look you can muster (that you absolutely have not been practicing in the mirror). “Make me.”

He crosses the distance from the couch to you in two steps and pins you against the door with his chest pressed to your back. You can tell you’ve had an affect on him by the way his hard bulge is pressed against your ass. He grips both your wrists with one of his large calloused hands. He leans in close to your ear and breathes in deep.

“New perfume?” He says in a low husky tone.

He licks a stripe up your neck and gently bites down on your earlobe. Drawing a small whimper out of you.

“Not so talkative now are we hermosa? His chuckles reverberate through your body as he slowly draws his fingers up your thigh. He can feel how wet you are through your panties and a low growl from him sends shivers down your spine.

“This wet for me?” A breathy “ yes” is all you can manage as he drags his fingers through your slit at an agonizing slow pace. He starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you can feel that tell tale sign that you're close to your climax as you clench down on nothing. He knows you're close and he wants to draw this out- you drew him out after all. He ceases his movements and all you can do is whimper.

“Shh it’s ok hermosa I’m going to take care of you.” You try to calm your breathing but he still has you pressed against the door with both hands behind your back.

“Answer my questions and I’ll take care of you.” He says into your ear as his breathing picks up. You give him a quick nod and his grip tightness on your wrist. “Words sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.” He nips at your shoulder with that last word. He resumes his movements dragging his fingers through your slit. “Did you buy this dress for me?”

“Yes.” You answer as he dips two fingers into your soft channel. If not for his grip on your wrists you’d be in a puddle on the floor. “What about these panties, did you buy them for me?” He’s slowly fucking you with his fingers and all you can hear in the flat is your breathy moans.

“Yes.” You say a little louder this time and he presses his fingers on those bundle of nerves inside and you think you might lose your mind.He brings his thumb to your clit as he steadily works you open. He places his knee between your thighs and slowly lifts you up. “Come for me hermosa.” You drop your head back on his shoulder and note down on your lip as you come with a silent cry.

As you come down from your high you realize you’ve never had an orgasm so intense without seeing your boyfriend's face. He slowly puts you down and draws his fingers away and you hiss at the loss.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” He says still with his back pressed to you, his obvious erection putting a strain on Stevens sweatpants.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say in almost a whine not even recognizing your own voice. He spins you around and you can see the hunger in his deep brown eyes, pupils blown wide. He looks very different from Marc and Steven, yet so similar. It takes your breath away how he looks at you like you're his world and also his victim in the same moment.

“I’m sorry about your dress.” He says sarcastically as you look down confused seeing nothing wrong with it. Before you can ask why he takes both hands and rips it down the front as if it was made of paper. “I’m sorry about your panties too.” You close your eyes and prepare yourself for what’s next as you feel a light tug on your hips and the sound of your new red lace panties ripping.

He takes in your form as you're now left in your sheer red bra and strappy heels. One of his hands comes to the back of your head and he pulls you into a bruising kiss, he kisses you like he’s been starving for you. Like if you pull away you’ll disappear. Your hands come to his arms tracing the familiar muscles you’ve come to know and love and this just feels right.

His thick bulge is pressed against your abdomen, as he grinds his hips into you pressing you further into the door. Precum now staining Stevens sweatpants (which you’ll have to hear about later). You suddenly feel very exposed and you slowly push him off you. As you both catch your breath he looks as though he’s done something wrong and your heart aches because you just want the man to be as exposed as you are.

“Clothes off.” Is all you can manage-real articulate.

Jake strips in two seconds flat and your thanking whatever Egyptian god that he didn’t rip Stevens clothes.

You’ve seen this body many times but as he stands before you with his thick cock, tip red and aching steadily leaking precum you feel as if it’s the first time. He backs you against the door again and grabs your face with both hands as he stares into your eyes.

“Tell me again.” He says in a pleading tone.

“I want you to fuck me Jake.”

You yelp in surprise as he grabs your waist and hoists you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes his hand and wraps it around his thick cock slowly coating it with your slick just teasing your entrance. You whimper at the feeling as he pushes in and you both moan in unison at the stretch. You drop your head to his shoulder and he’s not moving but you desperately want him too.

You dig your heels into his ass and he groans as his grip tightens on your waist.

“Just give me a moment cariño.” And you almost don’t recognize his voice. You squeeze your core around his throbbing cock and that’s all the moment he needs before he’s thrusting into you at a bruising pace.

“Oh. Fuck. Jake..” your words are punctuated with each thrust as he fucks too against the door.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy is so tight.” He’s quickly falling apart as he slams you down on his cock over and over. “I can’t believe I waited this long to do this.” Your moans in his ear as you hold on for dear life are going to send him over the edge. But not before you. His movements slow and you can feel his thick cock drag through your walls as you drop your head to the crook of his neck.

“Tell me what you want cariño.” He turns his head to see his reflection in the mirror next to the door.

“Fuck me harder Jake please.” You’re practically crying at the sensation as if it’s your first time. He smirks at his reflection and your pleas are all he needs.

“I love when you beg hermosa.” He holds you up with one arm and brings his thumb to your clit as he resumes his pace, roughly fucking you against the door. He can feel your pussy gripping his cock as your slick coats both your thighs.

“Fuck. Me. Right. There.” You're screaming now and will surely get a noise complaint, but you can’t care at this moment you’ve wanted for so long. Your vision goes white as you reach your climax and you're digging your nails into his back as you come undone. That’s all it takes for him before he comes with a choked sound as he’s shooting hot ropes of cum into your quivering channel. He groans in your ear as he slowly rocks his hips up pinning you to the door.

You don’t know how long you stay like that trying to catch your breath as you both come down from your high. It feels like you're floating and you realize he hasn’t put you down but he’s carrying towards the bed. He gently lays you down and you both wince as he pulls out of you. He places a soft kiss on your sweat soaked forehead. He takes off your heels and brings you one of Stevens shirts to sleep in.

“I’ll be right back cariño.” Your smiling to yourself as you watch him walk towards the bathroom.

Sleep is starting to claim you as he makes his way back to you with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your thighs and your swollen folds. He tosses the towel in the direction of the hamper not caring if he makes it. He lays down beside you and pulls your back into his chest wrapping you in a deep hug.

“Shouldn’t you call your friends so they aren’t worried?” He mumbles into your hair.

“Hmm?” Your blissed out brain can’t grasp what he’s talking about. He chuckles lowly to himself.

He’s not sure if you're asleep when he whispers to himself.

“I really really love pancakes too.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#moon knight #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #moonknight smut #jake lockely smut #oscar issac characters #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockely x you #steven grant x fem!reader #marc spector x fem!reader

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

taglist:

@pcrushinnerd @since-im-already-here @am-3-thyst @aug-ust69 @hangmanslover @suddenlysteven @nxonlights @lwjmoonchild7 @o-zenith-o @amasdaydream @may-tulip @skarrkiie @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @lxne20 @sangwoahsbat @orihimi-19 @purple-amaranthe @autismsupermusicalassassin @mt2sssss @angie2274 @dancing-pinky-flower @y2kbratzqouturr @brekkers-desigirl @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @softdvng0dness87 @venomous-ko @grilled-steak @emily-roberts @airzonaaa @yomoms-stuff @mess-of-fandom @winter-soul @insomniacrobyn

i couldn't tag some of you, just check that your settings allow for mentions :))

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #khonshu #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #moonknight fic #moonknight #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x reader

[st4rymoon]

✧ 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 ✧

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑: 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

◦𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: p in v, semi-Hunter x prey roleplay, unprotected sex, choking!, bathroom sex!, pet names, language, catcalling, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, fearful situations, slight dubcon, reader is dressed as a playboy bunny, implied age gap but not specified (18+)

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You walked around the party in your slutty playboy outfit, ignoring the cat calling and comments by other men. You waited for Jake but he was no where to be seen. Was he really that low to ghost you at a party?

You began to grow anxious, your eyes darting around for him but to no avail. You sighed, leaning onto the wall with a red party cup at hand. Just as you gulped down some of the shitty liquor, you felt eyes on you.

Looking up, you saw a masked ghost faced staring at you from across the room. The black cloth cloaking them enough to make them blend into the dark of the party. Small party lights lit the room, the dj having some extra lights on giving you enough light to make out the very little feature they had.

You thought it maybe Jake but he isn’t really the type to dress up, he’d probably walk in with his gloves and hat on as a ‘costume’

You pushed your way through the crowds of people, making your way towards the figure in hopes to see Jake. You looked down once and they were gone. The corner the ghost face once stood now empty. You sighed, they were probably looking at someone behind you.

You plopped down onto the couch. Sighing in disappointment as the party went on. A few minutes pass of meaningless conversations and sips of your cup until you see the figure again.

This time, the ghost face was now a few steps away. The mask looking as if staring right at you “hey, do you know who the ghost face is?” You asked someone next to you.

“Nah, a few people were a little freaked out since they’ve been lingering around for a while but it’s probably just some rando” they replied with a shrug.

You decided to let it go, if it really was jake he’d at least give you a sign. You noticed your red lipstick smudged all over the cup, it’s time for a touch up.

You made your way out from the loud crowds and walked towards the bathroom you remember walking past when you first came in. You sighed as you finally made it down the hallway.

Before you could process your surroundings, you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and a large arm wrapping around your stomach. You screamed into the palm as you got dragged into the restroom. You kicked and scratched at the persons hands as they locked the door.

You heard them grunt as they pinned you onto the sink. Your eyes widened as you saw the reflection of the masked ghost faced from before. “Don’t you remember my touch hun?”

You heard Jakes voice from under the mask as he pinned your back to his chest. You could feel his cock poking your plush ass that was on full display due to your tight costume.

“Son of a bitch” you yelled as you smack his chest “scared you huh?” He cooed as he pulled his mask off. You let out a sigh of relief as Jakes face came into view. “Of course you did you asshole” you hissed while giving him an eye roll.

Jake gave an amused chuckle as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, his eyes looking at you through the mirror as he rubbed his hands up and down your hips. “Dressed up as a bunny for me? All dolled up and pretty” he hummed as his fingers trailed up the curve of your ass.

You moaned at the feeling of his lips softly pressing on your skin, his tongue sucking softly onto your flesh as he bit up your neck and onto your jaw “mi conejita se míra tan guapa” Jake teased.

Your hips jerked back onto his as you felt his fingers play with the back of your zipper, his calloused fingers rubbing up your shoulders and back down to the zipper before slowly pulling the metal down.

Jake groaned as he unzipped your costume, your strapless bra and tiny panties coming into full view as he dragged the thin material off you. “Don’t look away from the mirror, I want you to look at yourself when I fuck you.”

Your mind went blank as your eyes followed his fingers down to your clit “me escuchaste?” Jake hummed as his palm slapped the back of your ass “yes yes.”

“Good girl” Jakes hands unzipped his own costume, his shorts and boxers getting yanked down in a hurry as you rubbed your thighs together. His fat tip slapped against your panties as he strung out of his boxers causing you to whine.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he ripped your panties off, throwing them somewhere into the pile of your costume. You could see how impatient jake grew as you whispered teasing words “please jake I need to feel you” ; “Wanna make you a daddy jake, hurry” you pouted.

The last one made him snap, within seconds he was slamming into your walls. You felt the air get knocked out of you as he held you close for a few seconds, a loud moan leaving his lips as you squeezed his cock in the best way.

His hand instinctively moved to your neck, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other with a fist full of your hair. Jake watched the way your tits bounced, watched them spill out of your flimsy strapless bra with each hard slam.

You were sure someone could hear you, his fast pace echoing through the bathroom as you hugged his arm. You moaned into his bicep as he pushed you onto the counter, the wet sounds of your pussy loudening as he continues his brutal pace.

“Mira que chula” he cooed. You whined into his arm as you felt every vein and curve of his cock rubbing against your tight walls. “My pretty girl letting me fuck her in bunny costume? Letting an old man like me fuck you out?” Jake hummed as he watched your tears stream down your face.

You hummed in agreement as his cock became overbearing. Jake loved the way you looked whenever he fucked you, you were always so fucking sensitive when he touched you in anyway.

You were completely dumb fucked as Jake let go of your throat, a loud gasp leaving you but before you could even catch your breath his hand wrapped under your thigh, lifting it up onto the sink and pushing your hips down to fuck you at a new angle.

“J- Jake b- ah-“ not a single coherent word came out of you as he slammed you onto his cock. You could feel his pubic bone dripped in slick as you focused on the sounds filling the room.

All of your senses were heightened at the feeling of his hands pinning you onto him. It was unfair how easily he could manhandle you into submission but neither of you complained.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he lifted his hips up, angling his hips and hitting the perfect spot deep inside.

Your eyes connected with Jakes through the mirror while you bounced along with his thrusts “look at how pretty my little girl looks, look at yourself baby. So fucking gorgeous” Jake gritted.

Your vision went blurry as you finally let go. Your orgasm washing over you all the while Jake fucked his messy cock into you “yeahh sweetheart” he hummed, hand wrapped under your jaw and head thrown over his shoulder as he felt you squeeze him to the brink.

You watched in the mirror as Jakes eyes squeezed shut and mouth flew open. A loud gruntled moan spilled out of him as he came inside you.

His warm liquid coated your gushy walls with pride “you wanna make me a daddy baby? Want me to fill this pretty cunt up with my cum yeah? Don’t worry honey. I’ll make sure it happens”

#smut #marvel smut #moonknight x reader #moon knight smut #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #kinktober #jake lockley #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x you

[redeyerhaenyra]

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

Summary: It's been a month since you've broken up with the moon knight system, and you start to notice someone.. watching you

Warnings: Stalking, breaking and entering, kidnapping, yandere themes, angst, no beta we die like harrow

Notes: So after all the positive responses on this post I just had to create in headcanon form- for those who want to listen to the song that inspired this fic, here :)

Breaking up with the moon boys was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do, but it did need to be done.

With the near constant dissappearing to do Khonshu's bidding, sometimes for weeks on end, with only a note or a text to tell you where they were and then radio silence, it was just too much for you. Your heart couldn't take waiting for them, worrying that they would never return, even if Khonshu was protecting them.

And so, you had begun the process of moving out during the time they were away on a mission.

Marc had come home to find your clothes, trinkets, anything that would indicate your presence gone.

You were there though.

Normally you'd be so happy to see him again, running up to him and kissing him with all your might.

Today, instead, you sadly smiled at him.

"Baby, what's up?" Marc had asked, gently holding your forearms after you had rejected his hug. He could tell you were upset.

"Baby?" "I'm leaving, Marc. I'm sorry."

He had stared at you, dumbfounded. You swallowed down your tears- "I can't do this anymore." You didn't have to explain, you knew what he meant.

You waited anxiously for his response, instead spying his eyes roll back into his head, and now you were faced with Steven and oh god, his eyes, they were already tearing up.

Coward, you thought of Marc, which was admittedly a little harsh but breaking up with them would be so much harder facing Steven's sorrowful gaze.

Steven looked terrified, moving to cup your face in his hands and you had to physically move back to stop him.

"D-darlin', please, what'cha talkin' about?" "I'm sorry steven-" "Please don't leave us love, please, 'can't do it without you please-"

"Stop it." You'd said firmly, Steven sobbed. You couldn't help but take his hands in yours, ever wanting to comfort him.

"Steven.. I will always love you," "Then why'd you have to leave!?" "Because I can't do this anymore!!"

You were both crying now. "I-i can't take waiting for you to never come home to me anymore, Steven, I can't do it."

Steven's gazed was fixed on the ground, his tears dripping onto the floorboards. You gave his hands one final squeeze, before pulling away.

"I will always love you, all of you, but my heart cannot take it anymore.. goodbye."

The strength with which it took to pull yourself away from Steven should have won you a medal, and you couldn't stop yourself from crying even more as you left him.

That was a month ago- with the help of a few friends you'd found yourself a decently priced flat for rent on the other side of London. Far enough away, you hoped.

It wasn't far enough. Jake had found out where you lived within days of you leaving. He knew it was wrong, but the part of him that didn't care grew and grew into something monstrous. At this stage the other boys weren't saying anything to disapprove of his actions, and so he continued to watch you.

He'd drive circles around your block to relearn your new routine, and you hadn't yet realised it was his cab you kept seeing.

The one person you actually hadn't said goodbye to was Jake- he hadn't fronted when you'd left, and you would always wonder if he was there, just choosing not to show himself. But if he wasn't? He'd have woken up to the discovery that you weren't together anymore and you'd always feel guilty for that.

But... you tried to move on with your life, as best you could.

It felt wrong to start dating again, but your friends had urged you to, even if it was a one night thing.

The guy you'd matched with on bumble was nice enough, smart, good looking- he wasn't them though. While he was polite and friendly during your dinner date, he wasn't your boys.

He'd walked you home, and you'd set up a second date. All things considered it was successful- but you just felt.. wrong about the whole thing. Like you were cheating, even though you weren't.

You'd guessed it wasn't all that successful, as he'd ghosted you a day or so after your date.

It was a week or so later that you'd seen the news report of his body having turned up in the Thames. God how awful! He hadn't ghosted you- the poor guy had been murdered.

Jake had really earned a bollocking off of Steven and Marc for that one, but he knew they were relieved you wouldn't be seeing that man again.

You'd decided to halt the dating game after that, for a while at least.

You were lonely though, there was no denying. Having no one to cuddle up to in bed sucked.

And so.. the logical conclusion was a pet, no?

Eventually, you found a young, ginger tomcat named "Franklin" in a nearby animal shelter and you just fell in love, you brought him home the same day.

He was great, not exactly filling the whole in your heart left by three men but you certainly adored him, and who wouldn't say no to curling up in bed with a cat every evening? Certainly not you.

One day, you'd left work for your lunch break only for the horrifying realisation to hit you: You'd forgot to feed Franklin that morning! You rushed home as fast you could- only to discover that, you had fed him, even when you were sure you hadn't.

And yet there he was, munching on his bowl of kibble.

Something squeaked under your foot- you looked down- oh, it was one of Franklin's toys. You threw it across the room for him to play with but- hang on... you didn't remember buying him that toy.

You shook your head free of thoughts that you were going mad- everyone forgets things, even buying specific cat toys. Or maybe one of your friends had left it when they'd been over- it didn't matter.

You moved to leave your flat and return to work- only to find your door lock jammed.

The locksmith you'd hurriedly called in was able to fix it in a jiffy, though advised that the jam was probably due to a break in, and that you should change your locks.

A chill ran down your spine- you checked and double checked, nothing of value had been stolen, but someone had been in your home! Is that who had fed Franklin? Who'd left him the toy?

You changed the locks, and threw out the strange toy.

Jake couldn't stop watching you. It was becoming more and more of a problem.

He was ignoring Khonshu and actively pushing Marc and Steven out when they tried to front, knowing they'd put and end to his antics.

But none of them could deny that they wanted, needed you back. Jake just considered himself the only one with the balls to get you back.

There was no warmth in his life now that you weren't there. Steven's flat no longer felt like home without your t-shirts in the laundry, or the brand of coffee you love but Marc hates in the cupboards.

He knew he ought to leave his little girl alone, but the fact remained you were his little girl. Jake would stop at nothing to have his bebita back.

Now it was two months since you'd broken up with the system. Life wasn't perfect, but you were chugging along.

You turned the lights on in your flat, yawning. Work was tough today, but it was Friday, and you had some left over popcorn in the cupboard. Film night~!

"Franklin? Baby? Mummy's home~!" You cooed, knowing that he always came bounding up and purring whenever you came home.

But.. he didn't. Your flat was silent. No distant meowing or the jingle of the bell on his collar. Nothing.

"Franklin?" You stepped further into your flat, worry seeping through you.

"Franklin..?!" Your tone became more and more erratic with the realisation that Franklin wasn't home- and then someone had covered your eyes with their hand, and pressed a strange scented cloth to your mouth. You kicked and screamed and struggled but it was no use- the chloroform had knocked you out in seconds.

Jake held you tenderly to his chest as you faded into unconsciousness. Steven had earlier expressed his distaste at this plan, but neither him or Marc said anything now, so close to having you again.

You woke the next day, nauseous and tired. The distant meowing you heard gave you comfort- it had all been a bad dream.

But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the horrifying scene of Steven's flat, not your own. So familiar, in any other situation you would have been glad to be here.

You shifted to sit up, eyes working their way down to notice your ankle tied to the bed with the restraint normally reserved for Steven.

You choked back a sob- a hum ripping your gaze to the other end of the room.

There lay Franklin, enjoying some pets from the man who's lap he laid on.

Jake Lockley stared back at you, you could tell it was him, you could always tell between them.

"Buenos dias, hermosa." His voice was rich like coffee, normally so comforting but now? It sent a shudder down your spine.

"You and I have some things to discuss, sí?"

#jake lockley moonknight #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #jake lockley angst #jake lockley headcanon #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight angst

[mandalorianslut]

Steven Grant 100% is a whiner. like can you just imagine riding him, his hands tied up as he helplessly bucks up into you. sweet and desperate whines following from his lips...

he's so silly

#marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #steven grant x you #jake lockely smut

[bit-dodgy-innit]

The Shape of You

Summary: Steven loves your boobs. A story of his devotion to them pre, during, and post-pregnancy as you welcome your first child together.

Pairing: Steven x afab!Reader, with some minor Marc x afab!Reader and Jake x afab!Reader. Reader is married to the system and all three alters are no longer working for Khonshu 

Rating: Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 9.4k (yes, you read that correctly 😳)

TW/CW: Heavy breast and nipple play, lactation kink, some awkwardness and embarrassment around Steven and Reader discovering they share a lactation kink, pregnant sex, breeding kink, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, daddy!Steven (in both senses of the term 😜), breastfeeding and angst about struggling to breastfeed, postpartum hormones, sundress!kink (that’s a thing, right?), public teasing, a smidge of masturbation, public bathroom sex…so exhibitionism? (no one hears or catches them), more fluff than I’ve ever written iN MY LIFE, titty-fucking, come-eating…writing these always make me feel like a dirty ho 😈

A/N: Sorry friends, the OP got flagged...so let’s try this again with a slightly less steamy gif! 

First time writing in second person so please, like Adele, go eaaaaasy on me :) Also I do not have DID, so please forgive and Feel free to educate me if I didn’t nail any dynamics. One more thing - Jake speaks Spanish a bit in this translations will be below

Marc, Steven, and Jake may’ve shared a body, but each alter had a different part of yours that was their favorite. Jake was an ass man, plain and simple. He loved smacking it, biting it, grinding himself between your cheeks…the list could go on. Marc loved your mouth. He never wasted an opportunity for you to suck him off, to feed you every last drop of his cum, to spit into its warm, wet cavern. 

Steven, on the other hand, was damn-near obsessed with your breasts. If it were up to him, his hands would never leave your chest. He’d been shy at first, bashful, citing his relative inexperience compared to the other alters. But the endearingly awkward bumbling phase of your relationship soon developed into its current one: The Steven-Can’t-Stop-Won’t-Stop-Playing-With-Your-Tits Phase.

You remember the first time he undressed you and got to see your boobs in all their naked glory. The expression on his face was so reverent it was almost comical. He looked at you as if you’d taken him straight to the Field of Reeds. 

“Bloody hell,” he’d whispered. 

You asked him if he was alright, to which he nodded frantically and asked, “Can I…can I touch?” 

“Of course baby,” you cooed. 

From there it was off to the races. Steven cupped your breasts, damn near whimpering when he felt the weight of them in your hands, and gave you a gentle squeeze. You mewled, and his gaze snapped up to meet yours. 

“That was a good sound, I promise,” you assured him. “Please, Steven, more.” 

He was all too glad to oblige. He massaged each mound in his hand and swiped each thumb over your nipple, delighting when you shuddered at his ministrations. It emboldened him to experiment further. Steven dropped a kiss between your breasts on your sternum, then tilted his head to mouth at one of them. You urged him on with a breathy cry, and Steven took the signal to suck on your nipple. 

Whereas most past lovers of yours had treated your tits as a fun but brief pitstop on the way to your pussy, Steven lavished ample delicious attention on them. And he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did, if the way he was frantically humping the mattress for relief was any indication. 

Later, after he’d fingered you to orgasm with a nipple in his mouth and you’d rode him like your life depended on it, Steven murmured to you, “Blimey babe, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your tits.” 

***

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you got pregnant that Steven became even more fascinated with your breasts. They kept growing, almost vulgarly large, and you’d caught your husband flat-out staring at them many a time . 

“My eyes are up here, honey,” you’d tease him. 

Steven snapped out of it and apologized, “Sorry, love.” 

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you conceded, looking down at your chest, using the insides of your arms to push your breasts together. “Even I can't believe how big they’ve gotten. The baby will be well-fed I guess.” 

Steven watched you entranced, his mouth ajar, a bulge in his pants growing. “Uh huh.” 

Sex was starting to get tricky as you entered your third trimester, but that didn’t stop Steven from fucking you on your side shortly after your little display. He lay behind you on the bed as he drove his painfully hard dick into your cunt, both of his hands on your tits. You rubbed your clit furiously as he alternated between squeezing them and tugging on your taut peaks. 

“Ohhhh, Steven, yesssss,” you moaned. 

“Are you close darling?” his lips were centimeters from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on its shell. 

“Mmmhmmm,” you whined. 

Steven picked up the pace and force of his hips. “Come then love, come for me. Gonna come too, your big titties get me so hard, you feel it, don’t you? So good at taking my cock and growing our baby inside you. Fuck love, yeah.” 

That surprised you. Dirty talk was usually a Marc or Jake thing, but you definitely weren’t going to stop Steven as his filthy words hurdled you toward your climax. 

“Your boobs are so big, gods, I wonder if they’ll get any bigger? Want ‘em to,” Steven was babbling, his thrusts lost their rhythm. “They’ll spill out of your shirt. Gonna have so much milk–” 

You interrupted him with a strangled shriek as your release consumed you. Your pussy spasmed delectably around your lover’s cock, compounded by Steven’s dick pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. You were so lost in the euphoria, the relief of your orgasm, that you didn’t notice the few drops of fluid that had dribbled out of your left nipple. 

It wasn’t until Steven withdrew his spent cock from you and rolled over to snuggle into his side that you noticed him examining his wet fingertips. 

“What’s that?”

Steven tensed. “It’s…um, not sure how to put this…I think you leaked a little.” 

“Obviously,” you giggled, “The sheets are soaked.” 

His cheeks burned. “Not from there, love.” 

Mortified, your hands flew to your engorged breasts. You could feel it too. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure it’s normal,” Steven tried to assuage you. 

You didn’t answer him, instead, you maneuvered your very pregnant self up and waddled towards the bathroom. 

He followed you, not needing to exert much effort to stop you. He captured your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a bloody miracle, growing our baby inside of you.” 

Steven’s tender words and touch allowed you to deflate some, yet you withdrew your hands from his grasp. “Thank you honey, it’s just…a lot to reckon with. I need a moment to catch my breath in the bathroom. Alone.” 

“Alright love, take your time and I’ll put the kettle on.” 

You kissed him softly, languidly, trying to pour all the love you couldn’t put into words into the liplock. 

But in the privacy of the bathroom, you crumpled. You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. Because why on earth did it feel so good to have liquid trickle out of your boobs and to come at the thought of how much milk they contained? 

Nevertheless, you splashed water on your face and composed yourself, joining Steven on the couch for a cup of tea and an episode of the latest documentary series you were watching together. 

What didn’t you know though, was later that night, long after you went to sleep and Steven had stayed up working on next semester’s syllabus for the course he now taught at UCL, your breasts had leaked again. 

Steven had noticed when he’d called it a night and was situating himself next to you in bed. The t-shirt you wore one to bed, one of the only things that still fit you, and now had twin dark spots staining the loose cotton.  

He didn’t know what to do. Steven didn’t want to wake you, he knew how the discovery would likely upset you again, nor did he want you to awaken and to have soaked through your shirt. He cursed his cock, which had twitched at the previous thought. He tried to ignore the arousal beginning to surge through him, but your tits made his blood rush south. 

The best course of action, Steven (and his dick) had decided, was to take care of it for you. He fetched a wet cloth from the bathroom, then pulled the already stretched out v-neckline of the shirt to reveal one of your tits. Steven gently cleaned the peak of your breast, the warm, damp feel of the cloth making you shudder in your sleep, though not enough to wake you. He switched to the other one, and found a small, perfect pearl of milk right on the tip of your nipple.

Steven didn’t know what possessed him - he certainly couldn’t blame this on his alters - but he swooped down and lapped up the milk with his tongue instead of the cloth. The drop was small, which meant Steven couldn’t taste much when he licked your nipple. So he sealed his lips around the bud in hope of getting a taste of the cloudy milk. Before he could, you rolled from your back onto your side. 

Your husband knew he’d have to call it a night, but that didn’t stop him from shuffling to the bathroom and rubbing one out, imagining what you’d taste like. 

*** 

Any thoughts of sex flew out the window when Nyla was born. All of your husbands had been co-conscious for the birth, the four of you equally in awe of what your love had created.

You loved your squirmy, wrinkly little girl more than you could comprehend, but the first weeks after bringing her home were rough. Nyla was a few weeks early, so your parents hadn't made it to London yet. There was no sleep. There were a lot of attempts at sleep training, but not a lot of sleep actually happening between you, your husband, and your daughter. 

Furthermore, Nyla had problems latching when you fed her. You tried to stay calm, telling yourself that plenty of women went through this with their babies, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d already failed as a mom. Plus, the wildly fluctuating hormones didn’t exactly help you keep your cool either. 

Steven, however, was a godsend. He never hesitated when he heard Nyla fussing over the baby monitor, he always had a backup bottle ready to go, he even sang silly songs to your daughter while he changed her. Marc and Jake adored Nyla too, yet you’d noticed that Steven had been fronting the most as of late. 

You suspected it wasn’t that they didn’t care for the baby, more that they didn’t trust themselves around a being so small and fragile. The thought broke your heart. You wanted to talk to them more about it…when you had the energy. Which, currently, you guessed would be somewhere around Nyla’s 18th birthday? 

Tonight, you’d actually had gotten Nyla to go down at 8:30. You and Steven silently rejoiced while getting ready for bed as quickly as humanly possible. The two of you had already learned to sleep when the baby slept.  

It felt as if you’d only laid your head on a pillow for a second when you’d heard Nyla crying through the monitor. 

Steven sprung up before you could. “I’ve got it. Keep sleeping.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were just starting to doze off again when Steven re-emerged with a wriggling, still upset Nyla. 

“She must be hungry,” he explained apologetically. “Her diaper wasn’t wet and I tried rocking her for a little.” 

You nodded in surrender, reaching under your shirt to unclasp a cup of your nursing bra, then extended your arms for Nyla. 

Steven carefully placed her in your hold, then announced “I’ll get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“I’m not thirsty right now,” you told him as you tried to get Nyla to latch. Steven was already retreating from the bed. 

“Just in case,” he called from the kitchen. 

You let it go, focusing more on Nyla than the observation you’d made that as doting as Steven had been, he was rarely present for when you breastfed. It could’ve been because your sweet husband didn’t want to add any eyes and pressure given your difficulties with it, but you couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion it made him uncomfortable. 

Nyla wasn’t latching. Again. When Steven returned, he only needed to take one look at your face to see what the problem was. 

“I’ll get a bottle.” 

Your face crumpled, unable to hold back the tears, which of course, caused Nyla to cry as well. 

Steven rushed back in, and scooped your daughter out of your arms. 

“There there, little dove, you’re alright,” he shushed Nyla, expertly feeding her the bottle. 

“You’re better at nursing her than I am,” you lamented. 

“That’s not true, you fed her perfectly for nearly nine months” Steven objected. “We’ll call the specialist Doctor Slater recommended first thing tomorrow.” 

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Sorry, it’s all these goddamn hormones.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he told you, moving to burp Nyla. “You did the hard bit, now let us all help out how we can.” 

“Alright,” you sniffled. 

Steven rose to take Nyla back to her bassinet, kissing you the top of your head on his route. 

You wanted to settle down, you did. You wanted nothing more than to surrender to blissful slumber but a fresh wave of tears came when your breasts began to ache. 

Steven came back and his face fell. “What is it, love?”

“They hurt,” you bemoaned. “They’re too full. It feels like my body’s punishing me for not feeding Nyla.”

“Oh darling,” Steven scrambled for his phone on his nightstand. “There’s gotta be a fix for it, yeah? I’m going to see what Google says.” 

You passed Steven his reading glasses so he could see, privately reveling in how cute he was as he studied his phone screen so intently. It helped distract you from the soreness in your chest. 

“Well, it says the best thing to do is to ‘manually express’ any excess fluid,” Steven read. 

“So milk me? Like a cow?” you spat. 

Steven put his phone down so he could give you his undivided attention. “Hey, hey, I won’t have you talking about yourself like that. Especially since I have Nyla beat at the moment for being the biggest fan of your tits.” 

You cracked a smile. Steven crawled closer to you on the bed, “I know tonight’s been a bit full on, but truly babe, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel better.” 

“Oh yeah?” you goaded, watching Steven’s gaze zero in on your still exposed breast. 

“Uh huh,” he grunted, then looked up at you. “To be honest…you remember that night a few months ago when you first–”

The night you first leaked.  “Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve erm, I’ve been curious since then about…about your…tasting you.”

“Oh,” you gasped. That explained his skittishness when you fed Nyla. Steven left because it made him horny. Well, that turned you on rather quickly. Postpartum hormones were a trip. 

Steven gently cupped your engorged breasts, then groaned. “Will you let me try?”

“Oh-okay.” You batted his hands away so could you strip off your very unsexy sleep shirt and shed your bra. 

While you were self-conscious about how the milk stretched the skin of your breasts and puffed out your nipples, Steven looked at them like a kid on Christmas morning. 

He spared one more glance at your face, “Just tell me if it’s too much or anything.”

You consented with a nod and then Steven lowered his mouth to your left nipple. He started by tracing his tongue around your areola, warming you up to his touch, then enclosed his mouth around it. You mewled as he began to suck on your teat, the feeling of liquid being pulled out of you foreign and therefore thrilling in this context. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the sensation of Steven steadily sucking at you was overwhelming. 

Soon the novelty and lingering sheepishness melted into sheer relief as Steven suckled at your tit. You blinked your eyes open, nearly needing to close them again at the sight of your husband resolutely drinking from you. It sent another shiver of arousal down your spine. 

“Feels so good sweetie,” you encouraged him. “Are you–ah! How are you doing?”

In lieu of answering, Steven guided one of your hands to his crotch where you could feel his pulsing length. He was enjoying this too. Good. You gave him a squeeze, which incited a groan that you felt against the oversensitive skin of your weeping nipple. 

Steven used his free hand to pluck at your right peak, gently coaxing milk out with his fingers. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both your heavy breasts being drained. Keeping your hand molded around your husband’s crotch, you buried the other in the dark curls at the back of his head. 

Steven’s enthusiasm gave you the confidence to ask, “Do you like how it tastes?”

His mouth still around you, he nodded. At last, he pulled off and mumbled, “Why weren’t we doing this sooner?”

A winded chuckle escaped you as Steven massaged your chest. “Might have had something to do with the newborn.” 

“Clearly there’s enough to go around,” he remarked before he turned your attention to your other breast, latching on to your already leaking nipple and going to town once again. 

You stuttered out a breathy shriek, instantly worried that it’d wake Nyla. Luck was on your side however, the monitor remained silent. You resumed groping Steven’s dick through his pajama pants, letting the fabric catch on the wet stain his cockhead had created. 

Steven moaned at the stimulation and switched to flicking his tongue over your nipples, causing you to tamp down on another yell. 

“Ohhhh fuck,” he rapsed, pulling off your breast, “I’m gonna come.” 

Steven began humping your hand frantically while he gathered both your tits in his hands and swiftly alternated licking at each nipples. You mewled at the feather-light shifting touch on your puffy peaks, now hardened into points for a good while now. 

“Yeah, that’s it, come baby,” you urged him. 

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Steven’s cock spurt, soaking his sleepwear and your hand with his seed with a whimper. His head was thrown back, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, and it was in moments like these you understood how your husband and his alters could’ve been avatars for an Egyptian god, because Steven looked absolutely divine. 

Once he came down from high, you withdrew your hand, expecting Steven to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and clean himself up. Instead, he shucked off his pants, and went right back to lapping at your breasts, mopping up the milk that had spilled from you as he came. 

“Sweetie,” you panted, “you don’t need to–”

“You haven’t come yet,” he whispered from the valley of your tits. He nuzzled the two mounds briefly then reclaimed a nipple between his lips and resumed his feverish suckling. 

“Nnnnngh, Steven,” came your delirious reply. 

He pulled off for a split-second to ask, “Can I touch you?” 

You were still a few weeks out from being able to have penetrative sex again, but you gave Steven the go ahead to slither his hand down to your clit. 

Another cry loud enough to wake Nyla ripped from you when his fingers meet your neglected bundle of nerves. You were wet enough to flood the Thames, and Steven wasted no time stroking you exactly how you liked it. Fuck, if Steven sucking on your peaks and playing with your tits felt good, him doing that and rubbing your clit was rapturous. 

You began moaning, a tell-tale whine in the back of your throat that meant you were close. Steven switched teats and redoubled his efforts – your orgasm building to its zenith...then snapping and drowning you in pleasure. One last sob escaped you as your release spread through your body, Steven never detaching himself from your breast until you gently pushed him away from oversensitivity. 

You both laid with your backs flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in sexed out wonder. 

Steven spoke first. “No need to call the lactation specialist, I reckon.”

“Steven!” You exclaimed in a whisper, playfully slapping his arm. 

“That fixed it, didn’t it?” he pointed out. “Your tits feel better?” 

“Well yeah,” you admitted, “but I still want to breastfeed our daughter. You read all the books and journals along with me, I don’t want to deprive her of its benefits.” 

Steven hummed in defeated agreement. You rolled over on your side to caress his face and assure him, “That doesn’t mean you can’t still get your fill.” 

Your husband’s face split into a wide smile and he pulled you into a dirty, open-mouthed kiss. It allowed you to taste traces of yourself and your milk’s mild, nutty flavor as you plundered his mouth with your tongue.

Steven cradled you to him, tucking you into his side and the pair of you drifted into the best night’s sleep you’d both gotten since Nyla was born. 

When you awoke the next morning, your husband was spooned against your back. 

“Mmm, we’re naked,” Marc murmured. 

You turned to face him and with a grin, “Fancy seeing you here.” You planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi, honey.” 

“Hi, mama,” Marc shifted and groaned, “Any reason why I feel weirdly full this morning?”

You blushed. “Well, Nyla isn’t latching still–”

“Still?”

“Still,” you confirmed, “so Steven relieved some of the…buildup I was feeling. With his mouth.” 

Marc grumbled, “Just when I thought he couldn't be more fixated on your tits.”

Nyla made her presence known on the monitor before you could say anything else. Marc sat up, but you put a hand on his bare pecs. “I’ll get her. You start on breakfast please?”

He acquiesced with a kiss to your temple. 

Marc was in the midst of scrambling eggs and frying sausages when you brought Nyla into the kitchen, “Look who’s changed and dressed and happy to see Daddy!”

Marc beamed, rinsing his hands quickly before you passed her to him. “Hey little girl, I’ve missed you.” 

You took over at the stove as Marc walked his daughter over to the couch. He sat down and rested Nyla’s back on the thick, sturdy expanse of the tops of his thighs. 

“Now, Miss Nyla Spector, I hear that you’re not letting Mommy feed you,” he began with mock seriousness. “Don’t you know her huge boobs are a gift from Tawaret herself?” 

“Marc!!” 

***

Things slowly improved after you began seeing Pippa, the lactation specialist your obstetrician had recommended. Nyla now latched the majority of the time and you learned how to keep calm when she didn’t.

Your parents arrived in London too, which also made the care of your newborn a lot more manageable. They did diaper runs whenever you needed, helped with cooking so you and your husband stayed fed, and would watch Nyla so you each could take showers longer than 30 seconds, even nap. 

The only drawback was it made you and Steven having what you’d codenamed “Parental Time” a lot trickier. They’d gotten an AirBnb flat around the corner from yours, and your mom especially had a pesky penchant for dropping in unannounced, resulting in a few very close calls of her catching Steven’s head under your shirt. 

So you and Steven developed a new routine. On the days he was fronting, after your parents went back to their rented flat for the night, you’d feed Nyla one last time, put her down and then Steven would get his turn at your tits. 

To be honest, it happened a lot when Marc and Jake had fronted that day too. Your parents knew about your husband’s DID and had met each alter, but the men tried not to switch in front of them. They figured their in-laws being so accepting of their daughter being married to three men was already enough of an ask that they didn’t want to alienate your parents further. Therefore, if Jake was fronting when they came over in the morning, he’d have possession of the body for the rest of the day, or at least until your parents left. 

This was a blessing in disguise you found, since it evened out the time each alter spent with their daughter. All that being said, you didn’t exactly protest when Steven would force a switch late at night to get his mouth on your breasts when you were feeling particularly swollen.

“What is it, cariño?” Jake asked when you padded over to the bed after you tucked Nyla in for the night.

“It’s my boobs,” you told him, trying to massage the ache out of them. “Nyla didn’t eat a ton today so they’re feeling extra hea–”

Jake’s quizzical expression changed into Steven’s unmistakably hungry gaze. “Then come right over here love,” he beckoned you over to the mattress. “And let Daddy help you.” 

His naughty words made you whimper and obey him at once. You sat on his lap, where you could already feel his erection growing against your dampening core, and lifted your arms so Steven could disrobe you.

“Missed these titties,” he growled, motorboating his prominent nose in between them. 

“They missed you,” you sighed back as he wrapped his lips around a nipple and began suckling. 

And what are we, chop liver? A disgruntled Marc asked from their bedroom window.

Jake chimed in from the standing mirror. It was my day to front, pendejo.

I’m the only one who wants to do this, Steven countered in his head since his mouth was full of milk, See how much she enjoys it? 

As if to prove his point, you ground down on Steven’s stiff length and squealed at the combination of his thick, hard cock against your pussy and the steady tug of your milk flowing into his wanting mouth. 

“Wanna ride you,” you told Steven. “Need that big dick inside me.” 

Steven groaned and his hips bucked against you. “You sure you’re feeling up to it, babe?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed feverishly. “Doctor Slater said it was okay.” 

Your husband didn’t need to be told twice. He all but ripped off both of your clothes and flipped you back on the bed to prepare you. He slowly fed one, then two fingers into your pussy while he lapped at your dripping tits. After Steven worked you through your first orgasm, you two resumed your position where you sat on top of him. 

The two of you went easier than you normally would. As much as you wanted to bounce on Steven’s cock until the sun came up, your body was still on the mend, and your lovemaking consisted much more of your husband grinding into you, finding the perfect angle to rub his pubic bone on your clit while you clenched around him. And of course, his hands and mouth lavished non-stop attention on your puffed out nipples. 

While Marc had long retreated to the depths of the headspace, little did you or Steven know that Jake had stayed to watch. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was to watch Steven drink from you, nor should’ve the way you grasped your breasts to squirt some milk on his alter’s tongue when you came, but Jake was intrigued. 

***

Just before Nyla turned three months, your parents had convinced you to leave Nyla and go out for lunch with your husband, just the two of you. 

You’d agreed at first, positively exhilarated by the thought of an hour or two without thinking about diapers, feeding, and sleep schedules, but now that the afternoon of your lunch date with Steven had arrived, you couldn’t conceive of leaving your daughter, even if it was for a few hours and she’d be with her grandparents. 

“She’ll be fine,” your mother insisted. “Nyla-girl knows us now, and besides, didn’t Steven say you’d go to the bistro on the corner? You’ll be five minutes away tops.”

“But I’ve never left her before,” you protested as you tried to feed her. Nyla wasn’t latching, now a rarity rather than the norm. You used it as evidence to postpone your lunch. “See!”

Your mother took her from you, “She’s only doing that because she can sense you’re stressed. Sweetheart, trust me, it’ll be good for you and Marc–”

“It’s Steven today,” you corrected her. 

“Right, Steven. It’ll be good for you two to spend some time as just husband and wife. Your marriage is just as important as this little one here.” 

“But mom–”

“Now finish getting ready,” she wasn’t taking any buts. “Wear something nice.”

As old-fashioned and misogynistic as the advice seemed, it had been a long time since you’d worn something remotely appealing. It felt good to feel like a human again too. Your styled your hair and applied some makeup too, giggling to yourself that Steven probably wouldn’t even recognize you now that you’d put some effort into your appearance. 

You strutted out of the bathroom in a little sundress and wedge sandals, “I’m ready!” 

Your dad appeared, “Shhh Nyla’s napping.” 

“Sorry,” you lowered your voice. “Where’s Steven?”

“He went ahead to grab you two a table,” he explained. Nyla began to fuss faintly over the baby monitor by the couch, “I’d make a run for it now if I were you.” 

Though it felt like there was a physical tether pulling you to where your daughter was fidgeting in her crib, your parents were only here for a few more days. You and Steven had to make the most of it. So you slipped out of the flat as silently as you could. 

You felt strangely unencumbered as you walked the thousand or so meters to your favorite little neighborhood spot. The few times you and your husband had left the house, it was almost always with Nyla, which meant you’d brought basically the entire contents of the flat with you. At the very least a diaper bag filled to the brim. With only a small purse for your phone, wallet, and lipstick, you couldn’t help but feel like you were forgetting something. 

Any worries you had evaporated when you rounded the corner and caught sight of Steven sitting outside on the bistro’s patio. He’d cleaned up too - his hair brushed and parted to the side like he favored, clean-shaven, and same as you, he’d traded sweats for a pair of trousers and a patterned, short-sleeved button down. 

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted him coquettishly as you sauntered over to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“You’re a bloody menace, you know that?” he fumed.

You played dumb, “What do you mean?” 

You stretched your arms up and over the back of the chair, further emphasizing your cleavage in your sundress. 

The dress was from your pre-pregnancy days. Beyond its fit flattering your post-baby body, you’d chosen to wear it since it also provided solid support in the bust, which meant for once you didn’t need one of your frumpy nursing bras. It was a tight fit however, clinging to your breasts and resting just above where the smooth, creamy skin of your breasts darkened into your nipples. You wore it to drive Steven wild, and it seemed to be achieving your desired effect rather nicely. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” 

“No,” You continued to play coy. “I thought I’d dress up for the first date with my husband after our daughter was born. Feels like a significant moment for us as parents.”

“You want me to say it.”

You leaned over the table to prop your ribcage on your forearms, giving Steven a new, even better view down your dress. “Say what, my love?” 

Steven whimpered, straight up whimpered, a sound you’ve never heard him make outside of the privacy of your bedroom. 

You were on the verge of showing him a bit of mercy when your server appeared. “Mr. and Mrs. Grant, nice to see you! How’s the new baby?” 

“She’s good, thanks” you grinned at them. 

“Lovely. Would you two like something to drink?”

“Yeah, we’re both pretty thirsty,” you replied, kicking Steven’s ankle under the table to tear his eyes off your bosom. “Steven, what would you like?” 

“Uhh, tea, please.” 

“‘Course,” the server noted. You and Steven were regulars so he knew your husband’s order. “With cream and sugar, right?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. It took another kick to his angle to elicit a proper response from Steven, “Yes, please. Thank you.”

“And for the Mrs.?”

“Just water please, and one for him too. Thanks Alex,” you told them with a smile. Once they departed from the table, you turned your focus back to Steven. “Wow, you really like my tits in this dress.”

Steven glared at you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think it’d make you this frustrated,” you apologized. “I thought we could use a break from the baby talk of it all, concentrate on the two of us, remind you of the person who made you and the other boys want to have Nyla in the first place.” 

He took your hand. “You look bloody gorgeous, and yes those were quite instrumental in creating Nyla if I recall correctly.” 

“I can run back home and get a sweater,” you offered, “if they’re too distracting.”

Steven squeezed your hand and rumbled, “Don’t you dare.”

“Then you’ll behave yourself?”

Steven sent you a mischievous smirk and a shrug. 

And for the majority for the meal, he did. While it was impossible for your conversation not to include Nyla, you two did manage to discuss other topics. Steven got your thoughts on the changes he was thinking of making to his course at UCL for the fall semester, you mentioned a new restaurant you wanted to try, and the both of you brainstormed baby-friendly places to spend Steven’s fall holiday if Marc and Jake’s schedules also allowed. 

Throughout the meal however, you noticed Steven barely touched his tea. That was odd for him, since he downed no less than six cups a day. 

“Hon, are you alright?” You inquired after Alex cleared your plates and settled the bill. 

“Never better, why?” 

“You had like two sips of your tea,” you noted, “What, did they change their stock?”

“No,” Steven replied without elaborating. 

“Then what is it? “

“It’s the creamer,” he confessed with a suggestive look in his eye. “I’ve developed a taste for something a little sweeter.” 

You felt yourself flush. “Steven,” you warned him. 

“Come on, babe,” he pleaded, “you can’t wear that dress and expect me to wait until tonight.” 

He had a point. You’d spent all of lunch teasing him. “But where would we go?” 

“Bathroom.” 

“Together?” 

“You go first, I’ll follow you and knock three times so you know it’s me” he instructed. “Then if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re having ‘a new mother moment’.”

“What the hell is ‘a new mother moment’?”

“Dunno, but no one will ask anything more if I tell them that.” 

“We can’t get caught, I really like this place, Steven,” you cautioned, “I don’t want Alex and the staff here thinking we’re perverts.”

“I don’t think anyone will blame me after seeing you parade around in this little dress all afternoon,” Steven pointed out. “Besides, that’s up to you darling, as my mouth will be occupied.” 

You cursed the hot shiver that slid down your spine at his words. You rose from the table. “Five minutes.” 

Steven nodded, a tad too emphatically. 

“Be cool!” you whisper-yelled before disappearing inside the cafe. 

Thankfully it was a small bistro, so they had only one bathroom, so Steven couldn’t accidentally get the wrong door, plus the lunch rush was over, which reduced your chances of being interrupted. 

You locked the door behind you, and found yourself giddily pacing the length of the small loo. After checking your reflection in the mirror, you planned how you wanted Steven to find you. 

You decided to keep your chest covered for now and let your husband ‘unwrap his prize’ so to speak, so you opted to step out of your knickers and tuck them into your purse. Next, you hiked up the skirt of your dress and began touching yourself. Fuck, you were wet. Maybe this little rendezvous wasn’t only for Steven’s benefit. 

Three raps on the door sounded and you lunged to open it as quickly as possible and resume the lascivious tableau you’d created for Steven to discover you in. You managed to swing it, sinking down on the closed toilet seat and fondling your pussy while Steven slipped in and locked the door behind him. 

“Shit,” Steven exhaled at the sight of you. 

“You going to stand there all day and make me get myself off?” you challenged him with a playful lift of your brows. 

Your husband pounced on you, caging you into his grasp and then drawing you into his lap, where you could feel his already throbbing erection. He yanked down the straps of your dress as once, your tits tumbling into view, already dribbling from your lust. He dove right into your cleavage, his tongue tracing the rivulets of milk that had trickled down your skin. 

Meanwhile, you made quick work of his belt and fly, eagerly fishing Steven’s length out of his boxer-briefs and giving him a few tugs. You took a moment when you lined yourself up to sink down on his cock, slipping his head back and forth to feel your slick. 

“Were you not wearing knickers this entire time?” Steven asked before latching onto a nipple. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” you hedged, figuring that the ambiguity would only rile him up more. 

He groaned deeply around your tit when you sank down on him, while you bit your lip to muffle your own moan. You two worked in tandem to draw your bodies together, the force of your coupling causing Steven to have to pull off of your breast. That didn’t stop him from drinking from you however, he simply grabbed both of your tits and contracted his hands to spray your nectar into his mouth. 

It was Steven’s new favorite thing. He liked to switch, drinking a splash from each nipple, and you were a fan of this technique too, since it meant he could talk dirty to you while he consumed you. 

“Taste so good,” he mumbled after swallowing a squirt. “Ugh, wanna milk these jugs into a glass so I can have you anytime.”

You dug your fingers deeper into the meat of Steven’s shoulders and keened. This was some of his naughtiest stuff yet. Getting off on the impropriety of your situation seemed to be doing the trick for both of you today. 

“So bad daddy,” you gave it right back to him. “Looking at my titties all while I’m trying to eat, thinking about eating me.” 

“Don’t play innocent,” he retorted. “Stuffing your big boobs into this flimsy dress. I know exactly what you were trying to do to me. Is that what you wanted? For me to pound my cock into you while I suckle at your tits?”

He punctuated his question by doing just that, flicking his tongue over one of your weeping nipples and latched on to coax your milk into his mouth faster. 

“Yesssssss,” you moaned. You added a swivel to your hips for good measure. “Ohhh I wanna come.” 

“Yeah? Then rub that little bud of yours, come all over my cock,” he provoked you. 

You did just as he said, maneuvering your hand around his that were still attached to your boobs and worked frenzied circles over your clit. Your release hit you less than a minute later, your fingers providing the last push over the edge, where the novelty of the location and desperation for each other had brought you there quicker than usual. 

You kept impaling yourself on your husband’s dick. He was close too, you could tell from the little cries he let out around your breasts that took on a borderline forlorn tone, as if Steven didn’t want to come yet, he didn’t quite want your fucking to be over. 

Steven was no match for the heat of your cunt and the sweet creaminess of your teats however. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and planting his face in between your boobs as his cock gushed inside you. 

A few moments of silence transpired between the pair of you, save for your heavy breathing, then Steven slowly and gently extracted himself from your core. 

“I can’t believe no one interrupted us,” you marveled. 

Steven nodded from where he stood by the sink to wet paper towels to clean you both up. “Lucky, innit?” 

“Thank you honey,” you said softly when we passed you paper towels for your breasts and slit. “We should be getting back.” 

You tried to think of something else to say, but when you and Steven looked at each other, the two of you simply burst into a fit of giggles in disbelief over what you’d just done. 

“You could ask me for anything now and I’d say yes, I reckon,” your husband joked while you two switched spots in the small bathroom. You checked your appearance, smoothed down your hair, and prayed that people wouldn’t be able to see how fucked out you felt. 

“You and the other boys already gave me everything I could ever want,” you turned away from the mirror to gaze straight at Steven. “A beautiful, healthy baby, and a trio of loving fathers to raise her with.”

“Awwww, darling–”

“Jewelry would also be nice,” you swiftly added. You found the idea of a “push present” too transactional, having a baby was both your and your husband’s idea thank you very much, and you knew what you were signing up for.  In fact, you’d fiercely wanted it. But something sparkly had caught your attention recently. “There’s this stunning gem bracelet I saw on the Tiffany website that would go great with my eyes. I’ll send you the link.” 

Steven rose from the toilet seat and crowded in behind you. He sprinkled a few kisses on your neck, then locked eyes with your reflection. “Whatever you want.” 

***

Marc and Jake didn’t protest when Steven mentioned he purchased you the Tiffany bracelet, work had been steady for all three of them, and you had a solid maternity leave package. 

“Besides, think of how much we’ve saved on groceries now that every night Steven eats local for dessert,” Marc quipped. 

Steven had fucked you in full view of the mirror to get back at him for that, using every trick in his book to show how much you enjoyed him enjoying your body. 

Though drinking from your tits didn’t really appeal to Marc (truthfully he had no qualms with it, despite an offhand joke here and there), Jake was different. He hadn’t forgotten the look of elation you wore on your face that time he watched you and Steven fucking while he tasted you. 

His chance came a week after your parents had left. Nyla was soundly settled into her sleep schedule, and things didn’t feel quite as chaotic as they had when you first brought you little bundle of joy home. You two were lying on the couch, watching a trashy reality show after folding a load of laundry while Nyla napped. 

“Ugh, shit,” you swore, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Jake clicked off the TV. “You okay querida?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I leaked again,” you took the pads out of your bra. Jake couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “I’m just pissed because I thought I was done with this.” 

“Lo siento, mami.” 

You rose from the couch. 

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower,” you told him. “Warm water helps ease the ache.”

Jake caught your hand. “Wait.”

“What?”

“No”, Jake barked at his reflection on the dormant television screen, then furrowed his brow. You recognized it as the look he made when he tried to stave off a switch, “I want to help.” 

“You do?” you asked carefully. “You do know what Steven usually does to relieve the pressure?”

“Si mami,” he reiterated. “I figure if Steven likes it, why wouldn't !?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’ve seen you eat two burgers in one sitting and Steven’s a vegan?”

Jake waved a hand as if to swat the implication away. “That’s different.”

You weren’t convinced. “How so?”

“Because Steven and I share a taste for you.” 

“Okay,” you watched him cautiously as you sat back down, “We can stop if it’s too weird for you.” 

“Please,” Jake scoffed, climbing over you and pinning you down onto the cushions. “They’re your tetas and they’re still so big. And you know I’m the kinkiest one out of all of us.”

“Bien bien Papi,” you surrendered. “Show me what you got.”

Your husband hastily rid you of your clothes. When his mouth first made contact with your pearly nipple, a hearty groan resonated in his chest. He’d held the warm, heavy weight of your post-baby tits many a time, but this was something entirely different. 

“Mmm, mamacita, su leche es tan dulce,” he switched to the other peak, already getting drunk off your milk, “no wonder Steven didn’t want to share.” 

***

Your family’s fall holiday came together more smoothly than you’d anticipated. Steven’s students were on holiday, Jake took time off from the limo company he owned, and Marc was between consulting jobs. 

You were still on maternity leave, but planned on returning to your job in the new year. This time was precious - it felt like the end of a chapter, the last hurrah, the eve of “what comes next”. 

So you and the boys rented a seaside cottage in Cornwall. Though you were anxious about Nyla and the four-hour car trip, she was a champ. It turned out that Jake was the one you needed to worry about, nearly veering off the road when he caught a glimpse of you feeding Nyla in the backseat. Apparently your daughter wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hungry. 

It was past the busy season, so the little village you were staying in was quiet, exactly what you’d all wanted. You pushed Nyla’s stroller around the sleepy high street, hoping the serene location would ease the blow of what you needed to discuss with Steven. 

“Solid foods.” 

“Yes,” you confirmed, “We’ve waited long enough to start her on them. I don’t want her to fall behind “ 

“So no more breastfeeding,” Steven spoke slowly, deliberately. 

“Yeah.” you tried to soften the blow. “But not right away, it’s a process.” 

Steven looked at you like a kicked puppy, but ultimately he wanted what was best for his daughter. Trying to look on the bright side, he remarked “Well, there’s always the next one.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, storminess flickering behind your eyes. “This one–” you pointed to Nyla, “--needs to be potty-trained and eating solid foods before any of you–” you jabbed your finger at him “--in there can even begin to think about the next one.”

Steven immediately squeaked out a “Yes ma’am.” 

“I freaked out,” you acknowledged. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright love,” Steven comforted you, affectionately bumping his shoulder with yours. “You have to do the hard bit after all. Feels like it goes without saying, but we don’t want another until you’re ready.” 

“I know,” you exhaled. “It’s been a lot. And as only you could, you turned my struggle with breastfeeding Nyla into a way for us to celebrate being new parents, when it could’ve sent me straight off the deep end. I can’t tell you how much it means…I was so self-conscious about my body after giving birth, and you–Jake and Marc too–but you especially made me feel desirable when I was afraid I never would again.” 

Steven drew you into a misty-eyed kiss. “I will always desire you. If anything, your post-pregnancy self is the hottest version of you so far.” 

You preened from his praise. “You’re a good man, Steven.” 

The week you were spending on the coast also marked your anniversary with Steven (each alter had their own “relationship anniversary” with you, though the four of you shared your wedding date).

As gracious as he’d been earlier, you knew Steven was gutted about you weaning Nyla off the boob, so you intended to do something special for him that night. 

You knew he’d spoil you, and your husband didn’t disappoint. Steven ordered takeaway from one of the nicer restaurants in town, setting up a candlelit dinner in your AirBnb cottage so you two could commemorate the evening without having to leave your daughter with a sitter. The Tiffany earrings that matched your bracelet though were a pleasant surprise though. 

For your gift, you’d encased his favorite photo of him and Nyla in a frame where you also made imprints of her little hands and feet. 

“For your desk at uni,” you’d elucidated when he unwrapped it. 

“Darling,” he whispered in awe. 

Steven’s dinner also included a bottle of very nice wine, which led to you making out like randy teenagers on the couch after your meal. 

“Are you ready for part two of your present?” you queried breathlessly. 

Steven looked up from the spot on your neck he’d been nibbling on. “There’s a part two?”

You assured him with a flirty little nod. “See, there is one more thing I want you to do to me while I still have these.” You grasped your tits and pushed them together with your palms.

Your husband’s eyes widened and his hips jerked underneath you. “What is it?” 

Instead of answering, you climbed off of him and led him to the bedroom. Your gaze kept dropping to the tent Steven’s turgid cock made in the dad-trousers he wore long before Nyla had been born. You found the view just as lewd as it was invigorating. 

Once you hopped back on the bed, you ordered Steven not to move a muscle, and peeled off the rather modest loose-fitting dress you’d worn for dinner to reveal the lingerie you sported underneath. The skimpy set consisted of a mostly sheer bustier that embraced just how obscenely big your boobs remained and a tiny, strappy thong. 

Your husband’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Fucking hell, babe. You look incredible.” 

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” your voice was lilting. “Now remember, stay there, and no touching”

“What are you going to do?” he whispered with a mix of crippling arousal and a perhaps a hint of fear. 

You palmed your mounds once again, squeezing them to urge more milk to spew from your teats. Breathy little gasps and sighs stuttered out from your lips as you soaked the thin mesh of your bustier, you wanted to put on a show for him. 

Steven’s hand crept down to his crotch but before it could reach its destination you snapped, “Hey! I said no touching.”

“I thought you meant you,” he whined. 

“Nope,” you quipped, popping the ‘p’. “You’ll get your chance soon.” 

“When?”

“Hmmm,” you glanced down at your chest and rib cage that was now bathed in your own milk. “Think I’m slippery enough?” 

“Uh huh,” came Steven’s articulate reply. 

“Okay then,” you leaned your arms back on the bed, “Now fuck my tits.” 

Steven’s knees threatened to give out. He caught himself and what he said next was a bigger surprise than the earrings. “Alright, mommy. But I wanna get my prick wet in your pussy before I stick it between your knockers.” 

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. Where the hell had sweet Steven gone and how did he learn to talk like this? Two could play that game. You fiddled with the straps of thong. “Then come over here and move these panties out of the way.” 

Steven jumped you, knocking you back on the bed, too impatient to get inside you to properly deal with your scanty underwear so he did exactly as you’d prodded, he pushed the crotch of your thong aside and sunk two fingers into your sopping pussy. 

They went in without much resistance, thus Steven only felt the need to drive them into you a few times, curling them against your g-spot for good measure. He licked off the residue of your desire from his digits and proceeded to tear at his own clothes until he was naked. 

His eyes were wild, wilder than you’d ever seen them, as Steven notched the head of his angry-looking erection at the opening of your cunt and sheathed himself in one fluid stroke. You cried out while Steven groaned, your husband wasting no time to start hammering into you. 

Every forceful push of his hips punched a “uh” from you, his unrelenting pace stringing them together in quick succession. He couldn’t stop watching your tits swing freely and the copious amounts of milk spill from them. His orgasm mounted in his groin sooner than expected, which propelled him to wrench his dick from your folds and grip the base tightly. Steven wasn’t coming anywhere except your tits. 

“Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice gravel as he clumsily scooted up your body to straddle your bosom. 

“Please daddy.” 

Steven advanced with a goddamn growl, positioning his cock between your milky tits and plunging his length in between them as you held your breasts together. It was nasty, your milk mingling with your juices and his precum, all spread across the expanse of your chest. 

Yet the years of love and trust you and Steven had fostered with one another allowed you both to succumb to the kinkiness of the sex you were having without shame. It had taken a hell of a lot of communication and vulnerability for you to get to here, so yeah, you were going to revel in the slick sound Steven’s cock made as it slipped between your tits, the way his face was contorted with pleasure and concentration, how his hands had fallen on top of yours to create the suffocating channel for him to fuck his rock-hard length through. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this meant you were going to have to be this slutty for all of your husbands’ anniversaries, but the thought was kicked out of your consciousness when Steven removed his hands from the top of yours to pluck at your nipples. 

A primal sound of pleasure tore from your throat that also ignited your competitive streak. You tilted your neck up and opened your mouth so that the tip of Steven’s cock could brush against your tongue on every drive of his pelvis. 

The kitten licks were what did him in, Steven orgasmed with a roar and raised himself higher on his knees at the last possible second to paint your boobs with his seed. 

“Oh. My. Days.” Each word required their own breath from your winded husband, now speaking his normal register once again. 

“Yeah,” was all your scrambled brain could add before you tried to squirm away from Steven’s tongue on your sternum. 

“Please, love,” he nuzzled the one patch of skin on your torso that wasn’t doused in some form of bodily fluid. “Wanna taste us.”

“Fine,” you submitted. “Be grateful I can’t move.” 

Steven hummed happily, getting a total of three sweeps of his tongue across your torso before Nyla’s fussing echoing down the cottage’s small hallway. 

“Perfect timing, as always,” you groused. 

“Ehh, she could've announced herself a lot sooner,” Steven countered. “Hey, you didn’t come.” 

There was your Steven, ever the gentleman and egalitarian in the sack. “Honey, if you go take care of her and let me shower right now, we can call it even.” 

He pecked your cheek and hopped to. “Only if you let me make a cup of tea too.” 

“‘Kay,” you said as he pulled on his, well technically Marc’s, boxers and headed toward the door.  You, on the other hand, set yourself the task of maneuvering to the en-suite without dripping everywhere and being kicked off of AirBnb.

“Hon?’ you looked to where Steven watched you from the doorway, ignoring Nyla’s fussing for one more minute. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am sweetheart,” you assured him. “My pussy’s going to be wet for days after this.”

Steven grinned, remarkably sweetly for a man who’d just come all over your chest. “Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” you parroted. 

Read the follow up fics : Close Encounters of the Maternal Kind  and First

A/N: Writes nearly 10,000 words of lactation kink and *takes myself to horny jail*. Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed! 

Also I wrote this in less than a week, isn’t that terrifying?! Leave it to the moon boys to inspire my to write obscenely long and dirty fics. 

My weird little headcanon on the reader and Nyla’s surnames are the on paper and official documents, you use Spector, but casually and in social situations you use the last name of whoever’s fronting. 

Translations: 

Pendejo - Stupid/Idiot 

Querida - dear 

Lo siento mami - I’m sorry, mommy 

Si mami - Yes mommy 

Tetas - tits 

Bien bien Papi - okay, okay Daddy 

mamacita, tu leche es tan dulce - little mama, your milk is so sweet

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x female reader #steven grant smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x female reader #marc spector smut #jake lockley #jake lockely x female reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockely x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #oscar issac x reader #Oscar Isaac thirst hours #jake lockley speaking spanish #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction

[whoreish-behaviour]

Steven Grant + Marc Spector x Reader

Warnings >~< = Hair pulling, mild brat taming

Not proof read

Shutting your eyes, you attempted to breathe normally - anger radiating off you in waves as you sat criss cross on the sofa - gaming controller almost on the brink of breaking in your tight grip.

It's just a game, it's just a game, its-

Marc's scolding words repeating in you head as you (forcefully) dropped the controller on the floor, the satisfying sound of the plastic doing little to ease your frustration.

'Just a game.' You murmured, shutting your eyes momentarily so you didn't have to keep staring at the DEFEAT! on the tv screen.

However, as soon as you reopened them - the anger flew right back.

'Fucking assholes! Spamming the same controls doesn't make you a better player-.' You rambled, face flushing as you felt yourself getting worked up.

'And my stupid fucking team, like seriously-'

'Darlin’?'

You snapped your mouth shut at the sudden voice of Steven, turning your head to look at where he was stood by the front door. He was dressed in his usual oversized attire, brows pinched together.

'You okay there?' His voice was soft, head tilting in that adorable way when he was unsure.

You pursed your lips, one side of you knowing that you should just take your loss and move on. But, you couldn't shake it off, it was too fresh.

'I'm fine.' You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the sofa as you looked back to the tv.

DEFEAT! PRESS 'X' TO CONTINUE

You heard Steven's footsteps as he migrated through his apartment, the sound of something heavy dropping on the counter before the tapping of his shoes made their way to you.

You felt slightly stupid for staring at the unmoving tv screen but made no move to change the channel or start a new game.

You felt him loom over you from behind, hand coming up to rub the top of your head lovingly.

'Aw darling, you know its-'

'I know Steven.' You yourself almost winced at the bite in your tone.

He didn't respond, a pregnant pause hanging in the air before he gently removed his hand from your head.

'Okay, well let me know if you-'

'Uh huh.' You cut him off, the rush of being an utter brat going straight to your head.

While Steven was sweet, you also knew that he loved to ring you back and put you in your place - problem was that it took a long time before that switch would set off inside him.

Giving you the perfect open window to let your frustration spew with no consequences.

Uncrossing your arms, you leaned forward and away from Steven to reach for the remote - lips set in a pout.

You weren't expecting the tight grip your hair was succumbed to, fist unforgiving as you were yanked back to your original position, back flat against the sofa.

'That any way to talk to Steven pretty girl?'

You swallowed thickly at the sound of Marc's unmissable American accent, throat bobbing at the sudden nerves racking your body.

'Hm?' He probed, hand pulling your hair even more taught as he leaned down into your space, running his nose over you jaw and then down to your neck.

Your body immediately shut down, Marc's intimidation and dominance usually having that effect on you.

'And now you're ignoring me, just digging yourself a deeper hole.' He reprimanded, using his hold on your hair to give himself more access to your neck.

'I'm sorry.' Your voice was quiet and meek, complete opposite to your earlier coldness.

Shutting your eyes, you accepted your fate when you felt him chuckle into you - lips brushing your skin and making you feel like an exposed nerve.

'No you’re not.' He pulled away, cold air cooling your warming skin.

You gasped, eyes shooting open when the hand in you hair somehow tightened, pulling your head back until it was rested over the edge of the sofa, Marc's displeased upside down face coming into view.

'But you will be sweet girl.'

#moon knight #marc spector smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moonknight smut #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #mr knight #khonshu #moonknight #brat taming #jake lockely x you #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #moon knight system #marc spector moon knight #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #steven grant one shot #part 2?

[jayden-killer]

STEVEN GRANT SAD HEADCANNONS.

A/N: Man, I love writing angst at past 11 pm. >:] even if it breaks my heart.

☆

• As we have seen in the TV show, people snob him way too much. Take for example Donna and J.B. He tries hard to have a social interaction with whoever he has next to him. Even Crawley! But I think that a part of him has surrended to the fact that people don't want him around. He feels like a burden, a fly. So he has learnt to limit himself by talking to Gus only (and Marc, after he discovered about him).

• He cries a lot, but like a lot, in his bed, hugging himself close to a pillow and imagining someone is comforting him. It's almost sure he's got mommy issues. He just wants to vent and to feel someone's warmth against him.

• I imagined this once: at one point, Marc told him that all those postcards were not sent by his mother, but written and sent by Marc himself. And Steven would just...sigh, and shrug his shoulders. He would have imagined that. Why would such a terrible mother keep sending him postcards? His mom wouldn't even loved him for who he was, If he had the chance to meet her in person (he kinda did, as a kid, to protect Marc, but her mother wouldn't know it was Steven).

• He keeps action figures of his childhood near his bed. Just to remind him it's okay to feel like a child sometimes.

• Part of his heart breaks when he's the one fronting and sees couples kissing, holding hands, etc. He can feel the cracking sound of it because he can't imagine having a relationship with another person. He would be too broken to be loved, so he looks away and fast walks.

• About that, he still likes romantic novels and romcoms. A part of him wishes to find a love like the one described in "Pride and Prejudice".

• Man once swore while cooking, and he burnt his hand on the fire. He kept cursing to himself, (not usually a thing Steven does), causing him to go into a full mental breakdown mode and also to make Marc front. Steven kept saying how useless he was, how he couldn't even manage to boil some pasta, etc. Marc took the lead so Steven could calm down and let him rest.

• About this headcanon, it revolves before the Moon Knight events: he is very insecure about his eye bags. He knows he has trouble sleeping, but his mind races with insecure thoughts. "Am I not handsome with these on?" He would say, looking into his mirror bathroom, circling his thumb under his eyes.

• Not a sad headcanon: for not a specific reason, I think his favourite song would be "The Logical Song" by Supertramp.

• As a kid, he was very clumsy. He would trip over everything and everyone, and mumble apologies even to things. "My bad, sorry, so sorry, oh gosh, I didn't mean to trip on you!" He would always feel this guilty feeling heaving on his chest. As an adult, he would still do that, not as often as he did as a kid.

#marvel imagine #marvel x reader #moonknight x reader #oneshot #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant headcanons #moon knight x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #marc spector x y/n #jake lockely x you #moonknight headcanons

[stevengrantsthings]

What if...#7

Jake, a cold-hearted person with of course a cold personality could be tamed by one person, you. Ever since you came into his life, he doesn't care about anything at all besides his loved one. But, Jake being Jake shows his love in a different way. Before he leave to do his job, he gives you flowers every day followed by a simple note..

"Tan preciosa como mi angel"

"Te amo, mi amor"

"hermosa <3"

who wouldn't fall in love with this prince charming? So, you decide to surprise him. He has been wanting the gloves from a shop for a really long time. You spent your 4 months saving for these. When he finally came home, you gave him a big smile.

"What is it, amor? Are you in a good mood today?"

You give him the gift and when he opens it, he suddenly becomes very quiet. Like really really quiet. You started become nervous if he doesn't like it,

"Uhm.. so, i hope you like it. I know you've been wanting these gloves, but-..."

You are cut off by his sudden hug and a sob. Jake never liked physical touch, but a hug? You caress his back and he tightens the hug, as if you're going to go easily.

"Welcome home, sweetheart"

"You are my home, mi luna"

#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #jake lockely x you

[pimosworld]

So Blue

Club Blue Jones x f!Reader Jake Lockley x f!Reader

This is a fic based on this post by @thedarkcoven and @melodygatesauthor

Summary- Jake comes to his cousin Blue’s aide in a time of need but finds something he needs much more.

CW-NSFW,18+ MDNI,Explicit, dub con,non con, Blue owns a Brothel and reader is a sex worker. Degrading comments,possessive Blue,possessive Jake, hints of yandere Jake, cursing, kissing, angst, innocence kink,fingering,oral sex female receiving, unprotected piv,anal,anal cream pie,dacryphilia,cum eating, orgasm denial,kidnapping.A hint of Steven and Marc if you squint.

WC-3k

A/N-Please do not read if this is not for you, this is a safe space to explore things outside of the normal world. If I forgot any tag warnings feel free to comment.

Not beta read

Your hands are shaking as you make your way down the hall to Blue’s office. You were only called into the office for two reasons, when Blue was feeling possessive and needed to let off some steam. He would bend you over his desk for what felt like hours, ramming his thick cock into you. Your screams of pleasure would echo down the hall for all his men to hear. 

  The other reason which usually resulted in the same outcome was that you’re in trouble. Each time brought a flutter of nerves and excitement, your brain can’t decide how to feel about Blue. He was so wrong and fucked up in so many ways, yet he could be so sweet when he wanted to. Keeping you right where he wanted, in limbo with your own body. 

  You stand in front of the door taking slow deep breaths as you smooth your hands down your barely there skirt and adjust your tie front crop top. Blue made you wear these clothes if you could call them that. You slowly open the door and you’re hit with a strong musky scent, like Blue’s but there’s something different there. You see the back of a man’s head seated in front of Blue’s desk, your heart slams in your chest at the thought of interrupting a meeting.

  So stupid you should have knocked 

  You’re turning on your heel faster than you can register. 

  “Where are you going sweetheart.” His voice stops you in your tracks and you turn to see Blue uncharacteristically smiling at you. He motions come here with his fingers and you’re at his side in an instant. He places a firm hand on the small of your back as he faces you towards the man in the chair. Your breath catches in your throat as you're met with venomous eyes and a grim expression. He’s staring at you but he’s looking at your eyes, something most men don’t do.

  You can smell it now the difference it’s fresh leather, his jacket and gloves in pristine condition. He definitely cares about his appearance, it seems just as much as Blue. Something about him was so familiar and you don’t even notice how long you’ve been staring at each other until a tight squeeze on your hip brings you back. 

  “This is my cousin Jake, he’s gonna be here for a few days to keep an eye on some things for me.”

  “Jake, this is my number one girl.” He smacks your ass eliciting a yelp from you and you can’t look at the man in front of you. Your face grows hot at the display he’s showing in front of this man who certainly peaked your curiosity. 

  “What’s your na-.”

  “Don’t worry about what her name is.” Blue bites out. Jake shoots him a look of warning and Blue holds his hands up in mock surrender.

  He’s not in control

  “Listen, her name is not important. If you need anything from her you ask me. Jake nods at him in understanding. 

  “Go get ready,you’ve got a busy night and I don’t want you keeping anyone waiting.” He slaps your ass again and you stifle a groan not wanting to deal with the aftermath of him hearing you. 

  “Yes sir.” Is all you manage as you round the desk.

  “Adiós Princesa.” He’s gonna be trouble. 

  ****

  “I need you to keep an eye on some high profile clients.” Blue lights his cigar and settles further into his chair. 

  “You’ve got muscle all over this place, what do you need me for?” Jake knows he’s not here by accident. 

  “They don’t have an eye like you…I think there’s some business going on under the table and I don’t want it going on in my club.”

  “Fair enough, I can only stay a few days.” Jake pulls his hat down nervously. 

  “A few days is all I need and you’ll be paid before you leave.”

  Jake stands to leave but hesitates just before the door.

  “How much for your number one girl?”

  Blue clenches his fist, digging his fingernails into his palm. He takes a steady calming breath and rolls his tense shoulders back. Jake was doing him a favor, but the thought of him having you still made him jealous. 

  “I’m not paying you enough for her.” He smirks to himself waiting for Jake's response.

  Jake is seeing red-does he know who I am? He knows he would never do anything to his cousin but it was hard keeping his cool when he always had such a smart mouth.

  “I have my own money hermaño.”

  Jake's insistence was pissing him off but he needed his help.

  “You can have her tomorrow night, she’s busy tonight.” 

  “For how lo-.”

  “I’ll decide how long.” He says through gritted teeth. 

  Jake exits the office with a noxious grin. I think I’ll decide.

  ****

  Blue told you to be ready for Jake. He was colder than normal and didn’t give you many details. You weren’t new to this but something about Jake made you nervous. 

  You knock lightly on his door and he immediately opens as if he was waiting on the other side. He beckons you in and turns you to face him.Your eyes trail down his bare chest and notice the bulge in his black boxers. He looks at you hungrily as he pulls the tie on your black silk robe letting it fall to the floor. You’re wearing matching blue lace lingerie underneath. 

  “I see you followed my instructions.” He grazes his thumb over your nipple sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in to kiss you but you pull away. You see that look in his eyes again and you’re trembling but they immediately soften into something sad. 

  “He doesn’t kiss you?” 

  “No sir.” He places a hand behind your neck pulling you into a bruising kiss, your lips melt into his as he moans into your mouth. He’s pushing you onto the bed without breaking the kiss as your tongues dance with one another. You feel like you’re floating from this intimacy. You feel the guilt creep up on someone other than Blue making you feel like this but you push it down not wanting to ruin this moment. 

  “I’m gonna make you feel good Princesa.” He’s breathless as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your body, he gently lifts your hips to slide your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping folds. He licks a stripe through your entrance and circles your clit with his tongue. Soft whimpers leave your mouth as you grip the sheets beneath you.

  “He doesn’t take his time with you, does he?” He doesn’t give you time to answer as he inserts a finger into your slick cunt drawing quick circles around your clit with his thumb. 

  You slam your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of pleasure. He quickly grabs your wrist with his other hand. 

  “I want to hear you, I want him to hear you.” Fuck

  He inserts another finger and fucks you at a fast pace, you don’t know how you’ll survive if his fingers stretch you like this. His tongue is on your sensitive nub and your breath hitches as he closes his lips down on your clit. He grinds his hips into the mattress for some friction where he desperately needs it. 

  “Oh..fuck…sir right there.” He chuckles lowly into your pussy and the vibrations could send you over the edge.

  “You can call me Jake.” He curls his fingers and presses down on your bundle of nerves. Your release slams through you leaving you sobbing his name as your whole body shakes. He’s kissing your thighs as you come back down and looking at you like you hold all the answers. 

  “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees.”

  Your body moves faster than your brain wanted you to but you’re putty in his hands now. You can hear him shuffle behind you as he discards his boxers somewhere. You’re trying to calm your ragged breathing but his hot tongue devours your slick folds and circles your rim. His hands grip your waist before you collapse into the headboard.

  He grips the base of his cock slowly dragging it through your slit, you can feel his tip breach your entrance and you keen at the stretch. He’s rocking his hips back and forth and his thick cock can barely fit.Your pussy clenches down on him and he bites down on his bottom lip practically drawing blood. 

  “I need you to relax…just let me in and it will feel so much better.” He reaches around and his fingertips circle your swollen clit. He can feel you relax around him as he works your hips onto his length. He’s in awe watching your slick coat the base of his cock as he stretches your pussy to the brim. 

  “Tell me who's making you feel this good.” He’s panting behind you as he picks up his pace.

  “You Jake…fuck it feels so good.” All you can hear are the sounds of his hips meeting yours, the squelch of your cunt as his balls slap your clit over and over.

  “Can I put it anywhere?” He runs his thumb along your lesser used hole and all you can manage is a breathy yes. He pulls out of your entrance and spreads your ass wide with his calloused hands.

You feel a glob of spit on your rim causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He prods just the tip and you already feel so full, he churns his hips slowly and your body feels on fire. The sensation has never felt so good, no one has ever taken their time. 

  You can tell he’s coming apart as his groans grow deeper and his thrusts become erratic. The pain gives way to pleasure as he snaps his hips into yours, he’s filling you with each roll of his hips and you can’t hear your thoughts over the screams of his name. 

  “Who do you belong to?” He’s grunting behind you as he slams you down on his cock. 

  “You..I’m.yours.Jake.” Each word punctuated on a thrust. A wrecked sound tears out of his chest from deep within as his release slams through him. His hips slow as he empties himself inside you. He trails light kisses down your sweaty spine and pulls out of you with a hiss. 

  You collapse onto the bed and he pulls your back flush with his chest. You can hear him drifting off to sleep as he mutters under his breath. 

  “Not letting you go, never letting you go.” 

  ****

  You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep when you hear a rap on the door. You turn to see Jake fast asleep, you raise his arm from your waist and slink out of bed to not disturb him.

  As you place your robe back on you hear another frantic knock on the door. You hurry over to open it, not wasting time to find your panties. 

  “Times up sweetheart.” Blue’s eyes are bloodshot, his liner is smeared down his face and the anger in his expression isn’t one you’ve seen before. He grabs your arm and yanks you out of the room slamming the door behind you. His grip on you doesn’t loosen as he stalks down the hallway. You can hardly keep up with him as you trip over your feet.

  “He fuck you so stupid you can’t even walk.” He doesn’t bother to pick you up, practically dragging you down the hall to his office. You can feel the tears prickling behind your eyes. His office door is a welcome sight for your poor knees. 

  “Get up.” His pupils are blown wide as you stand on shaky legs to enter his office. He’s pacing back and forth, Blue’s never been like this. He wouldn’t kill you, would he? He asked you to go to Jake's room. He finally stops pacing and sits in his chair. You can only stare at the floor afraid to meet his gaze as you fidget with the hem of your robe. 

  “Come have a seat.” His voice has softened a little and you feel a brief moment of relief. You move towards the chair but hear the faint sound of his belt buckle, as you look up and meet his eyes you can see the resemblance- the venomous eyes. 

  “You know where I want you to sit.” You can feel the arousal between your legs mixed with the dried cum. His cock is red and angry leaking precum down his length. You move to stand in front of him facing away as he smooths his hands up and down your thighs. He smacks your thigh and you hover your entrance over his lap. 

  “Sit.” You cry out at the stretch as he pulls you flush against his hips giving you no time to adjust. 

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” How do you answer this?

  “No.” He slaps your pussy hard and you bite down on your tongue. 

  “Yes.” He growls in your ear and you can feel his cock pulse inside your walls. 

  “If you want to keep lying to me that’s fine, you’ll just have to make it up to me later.” He circles your clit with his fingertips and you clench around him. 

  “Who do you belong to?” You're weightless as he bounces you on his cock punching something deep inside you. 

  “You Blue…I belong to you.” He grips your hair pulling you back against his chest as he thrusts his hips up. 

  “Oh…tsk tsk I thought you were Jakes?” Was he listening? 

  “I’m so sorry Blue, I’m yours I’m all yours I swear.” You’re sobbing now as he picks up his pace, never releasing the grip on your hair. Your orgasm is approaching and you shouldn’t have this reaction to him but your body craves it. He’s the rehab and the drug all at once. 

  You’re thrust forward onto the desk and your grasping at anything for purchase as he fucks you at a relentless pace.

  “Oh my god…Blue please.” Your cunt swallows him with each thrust. He pulls out of you suddenly, coming with a choked sound as he pumps his cock with his fist. You can feel the hot ropes of cum on your back staining the black satin robe. You can hear his wrecked groans as he milks the last of himself into his hand. He leans forward onto your back holding his hand in front of your face. 

  “Clean it.” You lick the salty remnants of his spend from his hand, moaning and savoring the taste the way he likes. As he slumps back into his chair you feel your pussy ache at the lack of release. 

  “You can go sweetheart.” The whine that escapes you is not lost on him.

  “Maybe when you remember who you belong to you can come.” His menacing laugh echoes in your thoughts for the rest of the night.

  ****

  “Those clients you wanted me to watch, we're trying to poach some of your girls. I took care of them so you shouldn’t have any more problems.”

  Blue doesn’t really care what taking care of them means as long as the problem is resolved.

  “Good, feel free to stay one more night. I’ll send some girls to your room.” 

  “Thanks hermaño, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. Ugh no need to send any girls, I need my rest for the drive.” Jake stands to exit Blue’s office but hesitates once again at the door. 

  “How much for your girl?” Blue groans white knuckling his chair -not this again. 

  “It’ll be double for tonight, same rules as last time.” He relents not wanting to cause a rift and is grateful for Jake's help.

  “I mean how much to keep her…I want her.” 

  If Blue could spit fire he would. Who does he think he is? He would have anyone else killed for less than what Jakes got away with and now this? 

  Jake turns to face Blue and he’s seething, a long silence passes between the two men as he awaits his response.

  “I wouldn’t let you have her for all the money in the world...She’s mine” His voice is dark and barely above a whisper. His eyes narrow slits and he looks like a snake ready to strike.

  Jake walks towards his desk and Blue stands,both men on either side. He’s a wolf in the lion's den but he won’t back down. He leans forward placing his hands on the desk. 

  “People don’t say no to me Blue.” He laughs, the bastard laughs and for the first time Jake thinks he might be in trouble. Blue leans forward just inches away from Jake's face.

  “There’s a first time for everything…Goodnight Jake.” He doesn’t falter, their faces still inches apart and then his face splits into a sickly sweet grin sending a chill down Blue’s spine.

  “Goodnight.”

  ****

  Your head is pounding in your skull and your body feels in motion. You can’t tell if it’s day or night but you know you’re not in your room. The smell of leather permeates your senses and it hurts to open your eyes. Your face is wet from laying in a puddle of your own drool. 

  You lift your weak body up and come to the realization that you're in a car. The windows are tinted black and you can hardly see outside-its a limousine. You wipe the drool from your mouth and try to remember the night. After Blue made you leave you cleaned yourself up and went to bed.

Is that really all you remember? 

  Tears begin to spill as panic sets in, the bile coming up in your throat at the thought of being in a stranger's car. You start to crawl towards the front and your body is so weak, you’ve never felt like this before as you try to focus on the soft carpet beneath your palms. You knock lightly on the partition and it slowly lowers. 

  “Good morning hermosa, how’d you sleep?” Your breath catches in your throat at the site of Jake. His hat pulled down above his furrowed brow.

  “Please…take me back please. He’s going to be so mad.” You're crying and trying to catch your breath. All the while he’s laughing as his gloved hands tighten the grip on the steering wheel.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me now.You’re safe with us now.”He raises the partition muffling your screams as you bang on it incessantly. You feel the exhaustion creeping in from your panic and you know no matter the outcome you were not safe.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging anyone that commented on the original post @thedarkcoven @simpforbritgents @fandxmslxt69

#blue jones x reader #jake lockley x reader #Club Blue Jones #Club Jake Lockley #moon knight fic #sucker punch #blue jones x you #jake lockely x you #jake lockley smut #blue jones smut #Yandere jake lockley #moon knight smut #blue jones #brothel au #Blue Jones sucker punch

[heartthrobin]

my bleeding dream, my shadow in the night

jake lockley x female!reader

wc: 9.5k

warnings: mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda?), angst, jake lockley is emotionally constipated, there is heavy steven / marc x reader but mostly jake centred, description of wounds and stitching them up, blood, a couple references to sex, there is a dog (i see him as a leonburger btw), jake still works for khonshu, post mk s1, heavy handed on the spanish fight me

an: hey loves !!! sorry it took so long, but here you go. obvs this is my interpretation of jake cause we don't see much of him in mk :// remember to comment and repost to support your fav writers

summary: you were convinced, no: you were sure, that Jake Lockley couldn't stand the sight of you. then why was he consistently banging at your door in the middle of the night, dripping in blood and begging to be stitched up?

Mouse was noisy.

You really wished he wouldn't be.

He was a big boy, the largest puppy you'd ever seen when you'd picked him up from the shelter. Tall enough now to sit straight up at your kitchen table and swipe leftovers off the middle shelf in the fridge when left unattended.

Despite his monstrous presence, Mouse yipped and whined like a teacup terrier.

It wasn't too bad most days. You were more than welcome to lug his eighty kilogram bum with you to the veterinary clinic where you worked, which you did, but it was the weekends that were tough on him.

When he'd be left alone in the flat.

Mouse would whimper at the door all the hours you were gone, whine until he heard you shuffling back up the corridor after a couple drinks with friends or between all the mostly horrible dates with monotonous men you subjected yourself to.

You couldn't call him a nuisance - he was your baby, you could never - but the guilt picked at you. You wondered most of all if he bothered your neighbours.

There was a sign up in the elevator: no pets allowed in the building! which you avoided eye contact with on a daily basis.

It wasn't all bad, Mouse's noisiness.

After all, it was his dramatics that brought Steven Grant to your door in the first place a Sunday night somewhere deep into April.

Steven had knocked so lightly, so politely on your door.

You'd opened it just slightly, enough to hide the furry mountain who was hovering curiously behind your figure. Who's there? Who's there?

He'd stumbled out a greeting, introduced himself as your neighbour. Two doors down.

You were long lost in the confusion of how you'd never realised that the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on was living less than a few feet from your front door, when he mentioned Mouse.

Not by name, exactly, but rather asked if "the dog" was alright. That he'd heard whining into the early hours of that morning.

That morning when you'd been in a bar two streets up from the apartment building listening to a man tell you about why Bitcoin was the "future of finance". God.

Dread had drained your face of colour, you remember how you'd tripped over your apologies, and begged him not to mention it to the landlord.

Steven's face reflected your panic. He assured you that everything was fine, he was just worried that something had happened. He apologised about as much as you had.

You invited him in that night, let Mouse sniff around the edges of his pants.

Mouse had sat with his bear-sized head in Steven's lap the rest of the afternoon when you'd poured them tea. Steven chuckled nervously: you figured that he hadn't anticipated the size of the dog when he'd come to make his welfare check.

From that day, things rumbled into a colourful blur of neighbourly dues to genial friendship to ... god, you didn't even know anymore.

Stops in the corridors became twenty minutes for tea which morphed into "I cooked too much pasta, care for a plate?" and then three hours over your kitchen table.

Steven, you found, was cheeky and endearing, and shy in all the right places.

He talked more than he listened and you would warm yourself happily with the sound of his voice for hours before he'd stutter out a "I'm so rude, I didn't even ask how was your--", and then you'd give a little too.

There were books he put you on, mostly about Ancient Egypt, but others were poetry or mysteries or biographies. He'd invite you for tea in his flat, poke and prod you on your thoughts on the book while Mouse sat quietly invested in watching Gus and Gil float up and down the tank for hours.

You met Marc eventually.

He was soft in different ways to Steven, eyes wearier than his counterpart's. Marc was hesitant, following slowly when Steven tugged him out into the light of your eyes.

You worked on him gently, steadily. Brought him baked goods when you'd made, walked out with him some mornings to work and offered to stop with him for a coffee.

More than that, none of the boys took to Mouse more than Marc.

It was something about the military in him, you thought, that brought Marc around to bury his hands into the spaces behind the dog's ears. Coo at him and fish pieces of jerky out his pocket just so long as Mouse sat draped over his lap the whole time.

It rolled into walks with you on the weekends, when you'd need to sneak Mouse out the building, and then dinner on the way home.

The ebb and flow of it was sweet, and slow, and you sunk into the boys' presence like a cat bathing in sunlight.

Jake came later. Later, in the early days of July when the tendrils of Summer had sunk themselves deep into the heart of London.

He wasn't like Marc, not skittish. Neither welcoming nor open to your meddling, he seemed distinctly above it. Above you.

There was an explicit distinction between him and the other boys, maybe just to you.

Jake avoided your eyes and your conversation. He kept up with his alters' wishes but entertained you no further.

You'd heard about him long before you'd met him. A rainy afternoon, chasing down the foyer of the building with a "hold the elevator!"

His eyes found yours and you beamed at catching Steven or Marc before heading up.

"Hey--" you watched his eyes turn you over.

Jake didn't slouch like Steven, nor was he taut and tense in the shoulders like Marc. He stood with an ease about him, his head tilted down under the flat cap that worked to shield his eyes.

He greeted curtly, a definite East coast twang to his speech.

"You must be Jake." You said plainly, finding no other way around it.

The man's brow tightened, "Sure."

There came a realisation to his expression, twisting up again. "You must be the doll from down the corridor."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Neither of you moved.

"Uh ... I suppose so."

Jake nodded, moving without another word down towards his door. Your feet tripped over themselves to follow him.

Jingling keys broke the quiet of the corridor and his door creaked open.

"It was nice meeting--"

It closed with a thump.

"... you."

Your interactions with the third member of the system were spread out, bumps here and there. No more than a few words.

Steven worried about him, about Jake.

Him and Marc had told you about Khonshu, about the Moonknight, in the darkness of a Thursday night following a few glasses of whisky.

"But ..." the glass teetered over the wooden table where Marc was twirling it round. "He's gone now, right? I-I mean, you're done, aren't you?"

Marc's eyes flickered up just once.

"Yeah, yeah ..." he nodded, words blurred around the edges with alcohol. "Just some days ... I ... I don't know."

"You don't know?"

His eyes flickered.

"Yeah, love. We just worry about Jake some days, he comes home with bruises and stuff--" Steven.

His expression twisted again, this time almost painfully.

"Nothing to worry about." Marc had returned, clearly intent on shutting Steven up. He took a long slug of the brown remnants in his glass. "You still got any of that cake from yesterday?"

And so it passed that way, for weeks.

Jake was a ghost that haunted the corridors between awkward elevator interactions or sometimes when he'd pop into the middle of you and Steven's documentary movie nights.

It stayed that way for a long while, until the visits began.

The landlord arranged a check-in once a month, just to ensure that nothing was broken, that you were keeping the place clean, that you weren't hiding one of the hounds of Baskerville in your flat. Things of that sort.

Steven had graciously offered to let Mouse come stare at his fish tank for a few hours until the check-in was over.

You lingered at his door and knocked twice, eyes flickering nervously up and down the corridor for signs of any other tenants creeping out their own flats.

The door opened and with one glance over his figure, you knew it wasn't Steven.

"Jake?"

He squinted at you, clad in pajamas and looking you up and down affronted as if it wasn't already three o' clock in the afternoon. It was clear that he'd just woken up.

"Yeah?"

His hair was tousled in a way that was making your stomach churn. God, surely there were laws in place to stop men from looking this handsome in the middle of broad fucking daylight?

"Sorry to bother," your hand tightened around Mouse's leash where he was inching forward to lick at Jakes exposed ankles. "Steven said I could leave Mouse here for a couple hours while the landlord comes to check my place?"

Jake's eyes dropped to the dog, as if he was noticing him for the first time. He nodded, pulling the door further open for him to slip past.

You smiled softly, feeling the awkwardness crowd over your face and redden your cheeks. "Thanks, I-I really appreciate it."

He nodded again. "Yeah, no problem."

When you collected Mouse later that night, Marc opened the door with the dog merry under his palm and Jake was foggy memory.

That was the first night.

The street outside had already dimmed to a soft whir of taxis and buses when you'd slipped off into bed. Mouse was taking up most of the space, as he did most nights, and you'd passed out before the blinking light on your bedside clock had even hit midnight.

It was thunderous, the knock, when it came. It jostled you from sleep with the immediate panic that the door was being broken down.

Mouse was scratching at the base of the door before you'd even sat up, adrenaline pumping through your system. The clock flashed four thirty-seven.

"What the fuck ..." your bare legs kicked off the sheets, stumbling towards the door.

In hindsight, maybe checking the peephole would have been wise, but you threw open the door in oversight.

Leaning, head down and panting, against the wooden frame stood the figure of your neighbour.

"Jake?"

The jacket with the fur lining, the cap crumpled in his fist. It had to be him.

"What are you ..." Your eyes found the side of his waist, white shirt blossoming with a crimson stain.

Jake looked up with wide black eyes. Even in the darkness, they curled with remorse.

"Listen, I'm sorry, I just--"

"Get inside," your hand reached for his arm, helping him off the doorframe and guiding him to crash down into the nearest chair at your kitchen table.

He seethed, head leaning back over the seat. "Fuck ..."

Your knees found the wooden floor, hands creeping up his legs towards his shirt. "Can I?"

He nodded.

Cold hands crumpled up the edges of the once white t-shirt and you lifted it up against his chest. A deep gash was reaching from his armpit towards his hips.

You drew a shaky breath, "Jake, you need to go to the hospital--"

"No." His voice was stern. "No hospitals, I can't ... they can't know."

Realisation was dawning on your reeling mind.

"This has to do with Khonshu. Doesn't it?"

Jake's gaze burnt into yours, but he made no move to answer. It was the response you'd expected.

You sighed, running a hand back over your hair. "I ... I don't know what you want me to do?"

Mouse was sniffing curiously at Jake, sensing where the tension was building.

"You're a doc, aren't you?"

"For animals!"

He shrugged, "I'm as close as you're gonna get, muñeca."

Sucking in another deep breath, you glanced back at the wound. The dim light in the kitchen worked to hide where you were sure other cuts and bruises were forming over his torso.

The thought of Steven and Marc occurred to you. When they would wake up tomorrow morning in a hospital bed, panicked.

You nodded eventually.

"Fine." It was barely a whisper. "Give ... give me a second."

There was a small set-up in the cupboard beneath your sink, the basics you'd need to stitch him up.

He made no other comment in your movement to the bathroom and back. You placed the box onto the table noisily.

"You need to get up on the counter," you said, flipping the light on in the corner of the room. "I can't work kneeling down like this."

With a grunt that made your cheeks warm, Jake rose from the chair and hauled himself up onto your kitchen counter, knocking your toaster back against the wall loudly.

"Lose the shirt." You said it without meeting his eyes.

When his jacket and shirt had been tossed back against the table behind you, you neared him again: letting your fingers graze softly around the wound. You worked hard to ignore the sharp inhale he made at your touch, or the goosebumps that rose around your hand.

He was watching you with heavy eyes, you glanced up to meet them and if you didn't know better, might have said that they twinkled with a shine of endearment.

"I don't have any anaesthetic," you whispered, sure he could hear you at the close proximity you now found yourself with him. "You'll feel everything."

"He tenido peores."

I've had worse.

You considered him for a moment, before reaching behind his head for the knob on the cupboard: swinging it open.

Behind some coffee mugs was the last of a bottle of vodka you'd gotten for your birthday. Not a lot, but maybe enough.

You handed it to him and he took it without question, spinning off the lid. He took three big gulps, face twisting as he sat it down.

Picking it up before his hand had even left it, you took two similar sips to wash down the panic rising in your throat.

When you found his face again, a smile had curled into his lips. Like he was on the verge of a laugh.

"Oh no," you set it down, "Don't go starting to like me now right before I have you put your life in my hands."

The objects from your little medicine box clattered out onto the counter beside him, you pretended not to notice where his face curled up in confusion.

"What makes you think I didn't like you before?"

You huffed. "Jake, please."

It seemed he didn't have an answer. Silence grew stale between your figures as you sanitised the utensils and your hands.

You drenched a bandage in alcohol, giving Jake a sympathetic look before pressing it over the wound.

He seethed at the pain, but not enough that you worried. You wiped it down as gently as you could manage, resting your other hand on his shoulder.

When the dried blood had been cleared and only fresh blood was leaking out did you reach for the needle.

"You ready?" You whispered, voice trembling.

He shrugged, "Are you?"

Mouse nudged at your leg, whining lowly. You ignored him and nodded.

Your fingers pushed at the skin, nudging them together where you pierced the needle and Jake let out a jolt.

The needle wove in and out, your fingers stained in blood against where Jake was groaning. He'd reached for the bottle of vodka again, guzzling down sip after sip: the rim of the bottle working to quieten his moans of pain.

Your eyes flickered up between the wound and his face, his face twisted and his chest reeling with heavy pants.

"I'm sorry," your words wobbled, the vision of the wound growing blurry behind gathering tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so..."

A hand found your jaw, pulling you back up into Jake's line of sight. The grip was warm.

"Hey, hey ..." his other hand released the neck of the bottle, swiping a calloused thumb over your cheek where a tear had run down. "You've done this before, I'm just like a ... a big dog. Just not as hairy."

You nodded, ragged breaths escaping you. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

His hand stayed over your face and you hoped it would linger for a little longer.

It moved, returning to the safety of the last swigs of vodka.

Your hand came to find the needle again, working it into his side to finish out the last few stitches. He was making more of an effort to stifle his groans, you could tell.

When you finished, you patted it with alcohol again before setting everything down against the counter. You wiped your hands, watching down as you stained the kitchen cloth with blood.

Jake investigated the wound site, hunched carefully over. "It looks good. You did a good job."

You handed him a roll of fresh bandages, ignoring his needless compliment. "It needs a fresh wrap every time you shower ... and put some antibiotic ointment on if you have. If you don't have, go buy."

He slipped gently off the edge of the counter, you took a seat at your kitchen table: sucking in hard breaths and avoiding his face.

The jacket and shirt slid off the table, he pressed them against his chest.

"Thank you."

You nodded, still not looking at him. "You need sleep, Jake."

But he lingered, made no move towards the door. The quiet stretched long enough to where your head came back up to find him.

His fist was curling and uncurling at his side, lips pursed.

"What is it?"

Jake's brow softened. "Please don't .... don't tell Steven or Marc that I was here."

You stared at him, affronted. "I think that's the least of your worries, Jake. If I were you, I'd worry about how you're gonna explain the twenty stitches in your side."

"You'd think." He shrugged, an air of charisma to his tone that you were realising was characteristic of him. "They'd freak those two, if they knew I woke you up in the middle of the night for this. For anything, actually."

"Meaning?"

He huffed, tugging the blood-wet shirt over his frame carefully. You avoided where your eyes were desperate to follow the trail of black hairs down over his stomach.

"You're a smart woman, princesa. Playing dumb doesn't suit you." Jake tightened the jacket to his side. "You've got those two wrapped around your pretty little finger."

The implication made your cheeks flush. Made you itch under your skin with his remarks, with how little care he tossed them at you.

"Right. So that's why you don't like me, is it? Cause I care about Marc and Steven?"

He shook his head in place of answering.

"I'm gonna go." Jake's feet shuffled backwards.

The door clicked behind him and Mouse whimpered at his absence.

-

In the weeks following that night, days dissolved into a technicolour blur of work and sleep.

Things had picked up at the clinic: you were tied down by late night surgeries and early morning consults.

You didn't see Jake once in that time.

Steven invited you around in the few moments you were home when you had them, with the pot boiling, offering a store-bought muffin warmed on a plate and good intentions.

Even Marc had stopped past your work, a coffee in hand and a smile lit between blushing cheeks. It was the one you liked from the place around the corner.

But Jake remained a foggy memory and as they days passed, you were growing more and more sure that his visit had only occurred in a dream.

That was until he came again.

Another knock, another confused shuffle through the darkness towards the door.

The light from the hallway framed a halo over his head, throwing a shadow over where you knew a cheeky grin was forming. "Princesa."

You drew the door back, rubbing the sleepy buzz from the corners of your eyes. Too tired to indulge him with argument, you motioned for him to pass into your flat.

He limped past your frame, hand kissing his bloody shoulder.

"On the counter, Lockley." You mumbled around the sleeve of your pajamas.

Jake lifted himself with his left arm, groaning where he slid onto the surface. He reached into the cupboard, bumping past mugs to where you'd stashed the bottle of vodka. There was hardly two sips left in it and he cleaned them out before you'd even returned.

Mouse was watching the action from a spot on the couch.

When you'd set the kit onto the space beside him, his shirt was already pulled to the side: revealing two stab wounds up his right shoulder.

You made no move to lift your arms from your sides, instead your eyes traced the wound where blood was leaking steadily out.

"I thought there was a suit? Steven says it used to heals wounds."

Jake's gaze hadn't left your face since he'd sat down. He shook his head.

"I don't wear it, the suit." He said simply.

You said nothing else, instead moving to wash your hands and wipe down the needle, attaching some thread to the end of it.

Silence rung in the space. You could tell by his fidgeting that it bothered Jake, but still, he made no move to talk.

Your hands, cool from the water, ran up over his arm and pressed gently into the skin surrounding the cuts. He sighed and you pretended that the sound didn't eat you up from the inside, pretend that you weren't thinking about how it would sound muffled against your own mouth.

The needle pierced his skin without warning and he jerked against your hand before apologising quietly.

Compared to his last visit, these cuts were deeper rather than wide: like the perpetrator only managed a nick before Jake threw himself back. It would only need five or six stitches and you sewed them in gently, but this time, insensitive to his twitching and squirming.

Annoyance flared beneath your skin. He doesn't show his face once in the time since he last appeared at your door, but here he was again: offering his wounds like a struck puppy.

"You know I could lose my license for this." You say it quietly, more of a comment than a question.

He observed you from under thick black lashes. "Why're you doing it then?"

There hung a pause where you grappled for answers. Different combinations of words fought to leave your mouth - all of them reaching out from your bruised heart.

"Because Marc and Steven are in there." You settle on. "And if I left it to you, all three of you would die of sepsis."

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face, but it's hard to tell through the darkness and easy to chalk up to the needle dipping in and out of his skin.

"Good to know you worry about me, too, muñeca."

You wipe the now stitched wound unceremoniously, not even admitting to the end of the procedure and definitely not addressing the fact that you do worry. That since his last visit, you worry about him every fucking night before you sleep. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Let me see your side." You motion over his shirt where you'd stitched him up less than a month before.

Jake lifted the shirt tentatively. You were met with the pink stretched scar down his abdomen.

"Who took out the stitches?"

His abdomen rippled where he shifted. "I'm sure you can guess."

The image of Steven poking around between dried stitches and gagging dramatically made a chuckle rise up in your throat. "Marc."

"Yeah."

"What did they say? About the scar?"

Jake's hand brushed along where your forearm rested at the counter, but - not for the first time - drenched your question in silence.

Irritation picked at you again. You pulled your arm out from under his touch. "Whatever, Jake. Keep your fucking secrets."

Before you'd even been allowed the chance to storm back to your room, he caught your arm: slinging you back against the counter.

Your breath caught on the back of your teeth when his forehead pressed against yours.

It was warm and sticky with sweat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his nose pressing against the side of your own. "I'm sorry, don't be angry at me princesa. Please?"

His eyes were so intoxicating this close. You unstuck your face from his, far enough to wash him with your gaze but close enough to still feel the puffs of warm pants across your jaw.

You pressed some hair up out of his face, letting your fingers venture softly through its brambly depths.

"I'm ... I'm not." His forehead was salty where you pushed a kiss there. "Go to bed, Jake."

You'd already disappeared under the comfort of your duvet when your neighbour's footsteps faded out into the hallway.

-

Steven and Marc had taken to asking you about Jake. More than they ever had and far beyond what was necessary.

It peaked suspicion in you.

"No, I've barely seen him." You'd shrugged. Not completely untrue in your words, but not letting on what you knew you could. "Why's that?"

Steven would shake it off. "Nothing, just wondering."

Marc's responses were laced in a little more candour. "He's been asking about you. Talking about you."

"What's he say?" You pretend it's unimportant, like you're not burning to know.

Marc raised his shoulders. A part of you knew that Jake had to be imploring him, insisting he abandon it. Leave him alone, and you alone, and you and him alone.

It was a matter your mind twisted over: did they know? know about Jake and Khonshu and your medical handiwork? -- until it wasn't.

Steven asked you out on a Monday night outside your flat door.

He'd stuttered and stumbled through: "I'd like to take you to dinner."

"Sure, that sounds great Stevie--"

"No, like ... like a date. I'd like to take you to dinner. On a date, i-if you want to."

You'd paused, delight crawling up over your face and manifesting into two cherry red cheeks. "I'd love that."

That Friday after work, you sat across Steven at a tiny round table in a dress you'd not had opportunity to wear in ages.

It was at a pizza place up the road where a single candle lit the space between you, like it did in the movies, and a bouquet of white roses sat in the open chair with your purse. Steven had bought them for you.

You noticed his eyes flicker back in intervals when you spoke, but pretended you didn't.

He was attentive and funny, like he was most every time you saw him, but this time seemed more nervous at it. Your hands curled around his across the red tablecloth and he smiled over words when you brushed a forefinger over his own.

The night ended with a takeaway pizza box interrupting the space where you pushed against his chest, taking his jaw gently into your hand and kissing him sweeter than you'd offered a man before.

It was barely Monday morning when Jake came again. Hardly a week since his last visit.

He hung at your doorframe, fist hovering over the wood.

His head was throbbing something terrible and he could feel where blood was trickling between the tendrils of hair down past his left ear.

A part of him wished he could feel an ounce of shame for it, for creeping out into the night in search of a fight. In search of a reason to end up back at your door.

He didn't.

The knock scraped his knuckles and echoed down the hallway past the other flat.

Jake waited for it. The sniff of the dog at the door, then the sleepy shuffle of feet over wooden floorboards.

It played into the space like his favourite song. The door clicked open, spreading to reveal your figure against the light from the street beyond the window.

The image was burnt into his mind the first time he'd seen it, playing like a video on loop until the next moment that he was blessed with the sight again.

Your sleeping shorts rumpled up against the top of your thigh, sleeves reaching down to your fingertips and a stretch of stomach peeking up at him. So soft, so domestic - he wanted to squeeze you between his calloused palms and press you against him until your forms fuzed.

Instead he settled, like he's done before, with a "princesa" and a finger motioning to wherever he let a deadbeat land a punch or a swipe of a blade on his body.

Tonight, he was dripping all over your doormat. The sky lit up the flat behind you with a crack of lightning, followed with a rumbling that could just have easily grown from the back of your throat as it did from the sky.

Jake felt your eyes, felt it's warmth over his neck where the trail of blood was leading down like the Nile.

"Have you ever thought of coming to visit me when you're not fresh off the bad end of a beating?"

I never stop.

"You gonna patch me up or not, doc?"

He found his usual spot, up on the counter. You disappeared, like you did each time. The dog rested a friendly head on his lap and Jake offered him a pat.

You'd bought a new bottle of vodka, he found it behind the mugs just as he did the time before. He wondered for a moment if you'd gotten it specifically for him.

Cool hands found the base of his neck. This was always his favourite part, when he'd get a taste of your touch against his begging, desperate skin.

And as much as this was his immediate reason for coming, your skin lingered further in his mind: a memory that didn't belong to him. It had kept him up for days.

You were working quietly, like you'd done before and the time before that.

"So." He broke the crisp air that had settled around you two. "Steven asked you out?"

Your eyes flickered up from where you were patting an antiseptic drenched cotton ball at the bump on the side of his head between his hair. The smell was reminding him of the last time you'd pinned him against this counter.

Why're you doing it then?

Because Marc and Steven are in there.

They were words that punctured a new wound into his gut every time he thought on it.

"What's it to ya, Lockley?"

Your hands went back to work, unconcerned for his question.

He shrugged like he didn't care. Like he hadn't scratched violent tears into the sides of his shared brain for a fraction of a sight of you that night: in the prettiest green sundress he'd ever seen and looking like heaven on a plate.

Satisfied with just that, he'd slunk back into the shadows again.

Steven deserved the moment to himself. Deserved you to himself.

It didn't mean that Jake was any less jealous. Any less ripped apart by your place in their life, the place he could never make for you in his own.

"He took you to Lorenzo's, right?"

You hummed, not looking at him.

Jake shrugged noncommittally. "I mean ... everyone knows that the pizza at De Luca's is better. The wine too, but whatever, I guess."

A nail raked gently over a spot behind the cut and Jake tried - failed - not to shiver at it.

"Isn't that place run by the mafia?" Curiosity weaved through your tone.

Jake hummed, "That's what makes it the best."

You laughed softly at that, just barely under your breath, and it made the pit in the base of his stomach warm. He could grow drunk on the sound.

He noticed the red vase on your kitchen table, white roses peaking out the top and watching him merrily.

"And white roses?"

"I like them, Jake." you dug a finger into soft spot against the side of his neck, no doubt on purpose. He jerked against it. "Steven put in a lot of effort."

It struck a funny chord in him, listening to you defend his alter.

"You'd prefer carnations though, wouldn't you? You said they're your favourite."

"Not to you, I didn't."

Sure, you hadn't. You'd mentioned it to Marc one afternoon stroll past the new florist that had opened up around the corner, but that didn't mean he hadn't heard. Didn't remember.

He leaned closer to your face, watching how your eyes flew up from wiping the blood down his neck.

"You forget ..." He whispered, tapping a finger against his temple. "I'm always here, muñeca."

You stepped back and out of his space, tossing the bloody tissue into the bin.

"Well, if it bothers you so much ... you're welcome to take your complaints up with Steven when you see him. Alright?"

"You kissed him."

That made you stop. Made your hands freeze over the kitchen cloth you'd been using to wipe his blood from your fingertips. Another line of lightning cracked beyond the window loudly.

Your eyes moved slowly between resting on his knee and taking sips of his own gaze. There was a sliver of moonlight grazing over your cheek, Jake was sure it was Khonshu taunting him.

"Is that the only place you were bleeding?" You deflected his question with another.

Jake watched you with desperate eyes. He didn't know what he wanted, he just knew that he wanted all of it. All of you. It's heat dissolved when he looked down to his boots. Sticky drying blood smudged over the toe.

"Yeah. Tha's all."

He was surprised when a warm palm closed over his cheek. Droplets of water chased down from the edges of his hair over the back of your hand.

The hand was gone before he'd even a chance to acknowledge it.

"You could have a concussion, Jake." You perched yourself at the edge of your kitchen table across from him. "I think you should go shower and put on warm clothes and come back ... so I can watch you for a bit. Okay?"

As tempting as the offer was, and it did tempt him something terrible, he nudged himself off the counter shaking his head. "No. I should go."

"Jake." Your voice was stern. "Just ... please. I want to make sure that you're okay."

"That I'm okay, or that the others are okay?"

You swallowed. "That you're okay."

His chest inflated and deflated loudly against the hum of the rain at the window. Was it a crime to want more than just a few blood and pain filled moments under the solace of your hand?

"You have work in the morning."

A simple huff escaped you, akin to a chuckle. "Never stopped you before."

He flashed you an annoyed look that held absolutely no substance. His hands itched for yours.

"I'm not gonna go change."

"But you're wet."

"A little rain never killed anybody."

"Does someone pay you to be difficult, hm? A little something on the side?"

You grinned, proud of your little jab at him and he could melt under it's sticky sweetness.

"Shut up." He mumbled.

You sighed and he followed you without instruction towards the couch where you fell back against it. He sat more civilly down beside you - purposeful in the space he left between your thighs.

"You wanna watch something?" You ask quietly.

He shakes his head. No. You nod. Fine.

The fabric was growing damp under his wet jeans, Jake could feel the cold creeping up his legs. The dog was snoring loudly from a spot on the carpet.

"Where did you find this giant dog--?"

"Why do you only talk to me when something's wrong?"

Jake's eyes flew to you, but your gaze remained steadfast on a dark corner of the book shelf across the room.

"I found him at the shelter. Named him Mouse, thought it would be funny ... cause mice are small. And ... he's so big." Your voice was only barely more than a whisper, meandering between words like you didn't know where the sentence was going. "Your turn."

He ran a hand down the jean over his thigh, adjusting in his wet seat. Honesty choked him with the way it was clawing it's way up his throat. You make me nervous and I'm too scared of how much I care for you to face you in the light of day.

A hard swallow washed that confession back down from whence it came. You still weren't looking at him.

"I like it when it's just us." He mumbled instead. A half admission.

You sniffled like you might be crying. Jake was too scared to look.

"It could be just us during the day sometimes too, you know."

There was nowhere left to look for answer, so he didn't bother. Instead, he reached tentatively across the space where your hand was curling on itself at your side.

He pressed his palm against yours and it uncurled, fingers drawing around his like they knew all the curves and dips and callouses there. You shifted so your head pressed into the side of his arm, it stayed there.

Nothing else was said. Not for the rest of the night.

A long quiet hour had drifted past when Jake realised that you'd fallen asleep. Soft, predictable breaths were drawing in and out from your nose.

He shifted to look down at your face, a movement that jostled you off of him and he almost mourned the loss when you curled instead onto the plush of his lap: arms twisted up against your chest.

It took a long moment of convincing to lift his hand from his side: letting it brush along your hairline, tucking back pieces that fanned over your forehead.

His fingertips trailed down over your face, brushing along the bridge of your nose - he watched where it scrunched up and twisted, feeling his heart melt stickily over his ribs - and softly over puffy lips.

He thought again about how you'd kissed Steven.

Jake knew because Steven had told him, voice breathless and heart thumping against his chest just moments after he'd shut the door on you. Marc was proud, Jake was too - but it burnt where it lingered.

Marc would no doubt get there with you too, ask you on another date and have his moments with you. Have something to tend to, to grow, and he knew it because he saw how you looked at them.

That endearment that he knew he could have too if only he just--

He blinked the thought away.

There was danger in allowing himself to love you, far too much to consider it. A weakness that one of Khonshu's adversaries could surely exploit. 

Sure, Steven and Marc could bask in your warmth. Taste the sweet fruit of your intelligence and kindness, wrap themselves around your heart.

But not him.

It’s what kept him so far, you at arm's length. 

Only in the moments where pain and adrenaline blinded him to sense could he offer himself pathetically at your door in the dark of hot London nights. 

You twitched against him.

"I'll come for you one day, muñeca." He whispered for nobody but himself to hear. "Te lo prometo."

I promise.

-

Life fell into a sweet sway after that, it curled around the edges with the warmth of finding home in a person.

You drifted between work and the comfort Steven's presence.

It took three more dates and a shy kiss along a bridge over the Thames before he asked you to be his girlfriend and your heart swelled three sizes at the look on his face when you agreed.

Many weeks passed that way: Saturday mornings were warm despite the creeping winter where you found the morning light between the crack in Steven's arm over your waist.

Marc was around almost as much as Steven.

He'd asked you to the ice-rink in the days after Steven and you had become official. He wouldn't have asked if Steven hadn't thought it fine so you smiled and accepted his offer too.

You'd promised and delivered on the fact that you couldn't skate. Marc spent most of the time catching you moments before hitting the ice and your stomach cramped with laughter. He laughed too, loudly and with a shaking chest pressed against your own. It was the most you'd ever seen him smile.

He'd held you close under the gazebo where you'd bought him a coffee and yourself a tea, his nose brushed against yours almost as nervously as Steven's had. A different kind of nervousness though, more ... tentative. He shivered with it.

His hand slipped into yours, nose against yours but shifting no further than it. Quiet in his plea for permission.

"Steven?" You whispered against him.

Marc's eyes found the puddle below his feet, the hint of a smile teasing at his mouth.

"He's been begging me to ask you out for months, d'ya know that?" He chuckled softly, warm breath drifting over your lips. "Been holding out. Kind of forced him to do it first."

You laughed too, brushing your top lip over his. "You two are ridiculous."

He snorted. "Just wait till you get to know, Jake."

You kissed him.

Marc was confident, leading the kiss where Steven only followed. It was all-consuming, hand at the bend of your throat and sucking oxygen from your lungs until it's absence forced you apart.

You'd already made peace with the fact that maybe Jake was just a ghost. A figure that appeared to you in the night and you'd never see his shining beetle-black eyes in the light of any day.

But as you should have long since made out, Jake had a special talent for surprising you.

He appeared in the five minutes between making eggs and toast that you'd run to the bathroom. Nearing the kitchen: you found Steven leaning against the counter and biting down into a piece of buttered bread, wide back turned to you.

Your face found the centre of his back, nuzzling your cheek against his warmth. Cool from being freshly washed, your hands slipped under the flimsy layer of Steven's pajama shirt and chased up his hot stomach.

"Ay, mierda!" he flinched, but his voice stayed soft and even, "your hands are freezing."

It took a hard second, digesting his exclamation, before your hands withdrew from his chest as if scorched by a hot stove.

"Jake?" Disbelief laced your tone.

He glanced over his shoulder, clearly unconcerned when he nodded, "good toast, this."

That same wave of irritation was crawling over you, the one that found you late when the banging on your door deafened you, but it was numbed by the endearment. The fondness at hearing the lilt of his voice, seeing him so bright in the daylight.

"It wasn't supposed to be for you." You grumbled but the words held no malice.

Jake bumped his shoulder against yours, he shrugged: "Same stomach."

You rolled your eyes.

"But," he sighed, sipping on Steven's mug and making a face, "If you want your darling back so desperately, you could have just said."

"Jake, wait--"

His eyes rolled back and Steven returned, gripping the counter. "Was that Jake?"

He chuckled softly, reaching for the mug Jake had just abandoned. "Sneaky man."

You nodded, sighing quietly. "Yeah ..."

It wasn't the last time. Jake cropped up again and seemed determined to surface in the moments where things were most tender, the most private.

Late one night, your bare chest draped over Marc's. His fingertips drifted up and down your back, and you smiled while he talked.

"Why're you looking at me like that?"

He was grinning though like he already knew, fishing for affection.

You shrugged, pressing closer to him. "Like what?"

"Like that."

"What, like I'm lying against a very handsome man and enjoying his conversation but also thinking a little bit about how I wished he'd kiss me again?" Your nail outlined a little heart over his tanned chest. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

A warm hand moved up your side, finally resting up behind your neck and steering you in the direction of his face.

"What, like this--" His voice crackled out like a television losing signal and his eyes rolled back as they'd done time and time before.

Pupils straightening out again, you knew who it was immediately: that tight, thin line tugging between his brows giving it away.

"Jake, what the hell--!" Your hand grappled for the sheets, ripping it up over your chest to hide your body. You straightened up to sit on the bed.

His eyes widened, hands inching himself backwards. "I ... I didn't know-- perdóname. I'm sorry--"

He was gone again.

It carried on like that, Jake popping in for a few minutes at a time: once at lunch, once when you'd arrived from work, again when you'd fallen asleep against Marc on the couch - you'd awoken to find him there.

Sometimes, he lets you get a question in edgeways: "you gonna stick around, Jake? I'm about to put the pot on?"

"No, no. Just ..." he always looked around like he came for something but he'd forgotten what. "Never mind."

-

Christmas leered in the distance. Almost two months since Steven had asked you to be his, nearly one since Marc asked you to be theirs, and Jake remained the elusive man in the shadows.

There was ten days to New Years when Jake appeared for the fourth time.

You'd long dropped the habit of waiting up for him, having done that in the early times he visited. It was almost enough to put him out your mind, almost enough to pretend you didn't miss him miserably.

The door rumbled against the hinge as it had all the times before. You sat straight up, Mouse was already bounding noisily down the hallway.

Your hand ran up over your face, waiting for the knock to sound again. Maybe you'd dreamt of his return.

But it delivered, and the sound echoed through your flat.

With little concern of the sheets tangling around your ankles, you leapt from the bed and stumbled to where Mouse was scratching at the foot of the door.

The knob rattled under your hand where you threw it open and, as you'd hoped, there stood Jake: illuminated by the starchy yellow light of the building hallway.

"What's wrong?" Your eyes pressed over his figure for another bloody wound or ripped tendon. "Where are you--"

Your eyes could only find one smear of red. Barely more than a trickle edging down from the bridge of his nose. He pointed tiredly up at it.

Jake drank in your figure with his eyes. You'd abandoned the shorts that he loved so much, replaced by winter bottoms: the ends too long and trapped under your heel. A worn jumper hid your hips.

Like all the times before, you moved aside and Jake found himself up on the counter. He'd be surprised if the cut on his nose even bruised come morning, and he hadn't even gotten it in a fair fight. If you didn't consider hitting himself with the cupboard door while looking for a mug a fair fight, that is. But the pain had his eyes stinging with tears and the blood against his fingertips reminded him of you, again, and he'd crushed his tight fist through the cupboard door where it ripped clean off the hinge.

It's what lead him down the corridor, down the six steps separating your door from his.

You reappeared beside him, little first aid kit in hand and your side brushing his knee. When you dug through the box, your calf nudged at his hanging ankle.

The sharp smell of sanitiser made his nostrils itch but warmed his insides. Reminded him where he was, who he was with.

Your hand was gentle where it overtook the stubble of his cheeks. "This is gonna hurt a little, okay?"

Jake nodded, before realising that he still had yet to say a word since entering the flat. "Sí, amor. Está bien."

The cotton was ice cold against his nose and he groaned against it.

“Why are you here?” You wiped the drying blood down his cheek.

He watched you down the bridge of his nose. “Whad’ya mean? I’m all banged up here. Needed the doc to fix me up.”

He couldn’t tell if you appreciated his little sarcastic comment, but you didn’t answer him.

“Oh, you didn’t miss me?” He asked, digging and prodding in the hopes of hearing your teasing voice again.

“I missed you so much it made me sick, Jake.”

It was so quiet, a sentence said half into your chest and Jake thought he might have imagined it.

The words bubbled something inside his chest that was making it hard to breath. Hard to think.

But maybe that’s what made it so easy for his envy to creep up around the lump in his throat and jump out of his mouth.

“Didn't look like it.” His voice didn't come out as strong as he'd hoped it would have. "Got those other two keeping you plenty busy."

Your eyes flew up where to him. They were wide and wet.

"Like I didn't ask you to stay all those times you decided to pop in? Huh?" You pressed, tone crumbling around the edges. "You're the one who jumps in and out as he pleases."

"Not everything is about you, y'know that princesa--" It was a disgusting fat lie and Jake knew it too. Every breath he drew was in your honour, he'd long decided.

"Just answer me, Jake." Your hands trembled. "Just this once, can you give me something more than shrugs and silence. Can you answer me this once?"

He betrayed you with his silence.

"What do you want?" The wetness was collecting at your waterline, shivering like your frame.

Jake shook his head, the threat of your tears was making it hard to focus. "I can't ... I just can't."

"Can't? Can't what?"

"I can't have what I want."

You stepped closer again, hips pressing into his knees where he was still up on the counter. The gap of silence egged him to continue.

"Khonshu ... someone, they'll--" he sighed, hands curling into fists at his side. "I'd be putting you in danger."

Your head shook. "You think I didn't know that when Steven told me? That I'd be in danger?"

"It's not the same. thing"

"It is, Jake, it is!" your hands tightened against his thigh, "Do you forget that you're walking around with the same face? That I'm holding the same hand walking down the street?"

Mouse was peeking up at him from where he'd crammed himself under the kitchen table. He whined miserably.

"So what now?" He asked, not exactly sure what he wanted. "That solves everything?"

You retracted your hand and Jake desperately wished you hadn't.

"You still haven't answered my question." A whisper.

He shook his head, as if his thoughts would come tumbling out his ears at the motion. Frustration willed him off the counter, he huffed like a wild animal and pushed past your still figure towards the door.

His hand hadn't even collided with the doorknob when your voice rung out again.

"Don't come back, Jake."

Your tone was soft, apologetic, but the words hit him like a curled fist to his windpipe. He stopped.

"I ... I used to wait up nights for you. Hoping you'd come by. It's the waiting that'll kill me ... and I can't do it anymore."

Jake's forehead pressed against the wood of the door. He sighed deeply against it. Is this really how it ends?

"I want what they have."

He made out the sharp breath you sucked in. "What?"

His shoes squeaked against the wood where he turned. "I want what they have. I want what Steven and Marc-- I want you."

You seemed suddenly uncomfortable in your body, weight shifting between each leg and hands folding over themselves. "Oh."

It snapped a cord in him and his legs were moving before they'd been commanded, urging himself against you in three long strides.

"I also want to take you out," His voice was course, but pressing gentle words where he nudged his cheek against yours. "To De Luca's because Lorenzo's is shit--"

You giggled wetly under tear kissed lips and it made Jake's knees buckle. His hands found your jaw, face still hiding in your neck.

"-- and I'll bring you carnations or whatever the fuck you want. I want you to make me toast and coffee, too, and I want to come home to you. Let you patch me up like you do, but I want to stay. Want to fall asleep next to you afterwards and not ... not disappear like a coward anymore."

Your hands found his waist, scrunching his shirt into your fists. "Jake, I--"

His own hands slipped down from your face, caging your hips between his wide palms.

"And I wanna make you feel good." His thumbs dug welts into the soft skin there, he pressed a hot kiss against your neck and watched where the skin rose with goosebumps under his mouth. "Fuck, princesa, I could make you feel ... so good."

Hot pants were warming the shell of his left ear.

There was a long moment where nobody moved and nothing was said. Fear was starting to drain him of the courage that had so readily devoured him moments before.

When your hands nudged at his chest, he stepped resentfully back. Your face was twisted into an expression he couldn't place and you motioned him back toward the counter.

"Come on ... I haven't finished patching you up yet."

He slid himself back onto his usual seat. You rustled back in the little first aid box, your hand emerged with a little slip of paper.

"This is my last plaster." You flashed it at him, he made out the little pink poodles and sparkling hearts decorating the glittery little patch. "Is it fine?"

He sighed, pretending as if he cared even at all. "'s fine."

You smiled, the kind of smile that could stop traffic down the Lincoln Tunnel, and pressed the sticky end over the bridge of your nose.

"You not gonna say anything?" He asked quietly.

You chuckled softly, laughter bubbling like you'd been holding it in a while. "Oh, not so nice is it?"

"You're very annoying."

Shrugging, you pressed yourself into the space between his knees. "And yet, you seem pretty in love with me, Jakey."

His face ran hot all over at the allegation.

"Jakey?" he guffawed, his heart thrumming against his ribcage like a rabid dog. "Worse than annoying, I'm afraid, you're absolutely aggravating."

Your face drew closer against his own.

"And you are exhausting. You're worse than a child." But you grinned the whole time, "And you make me want to rip my hair out."

His nose prodded your own. "Well, you--"

"Jake, will you shut the fuck up and just kiss me."

It took all the willpower not to melt off the countertop when your lips met his. They were warm and soft and tasted sweeter than he could have imagined them to.

His hand pulled you all the way against his figure, desperate to swallow you whole. Your breath stuttered over the bow of his lip, parting for a fraction of a moment before pressing hot surging kisses against him again.

"I want that too," words huffed out between wet, red lips. "I want to take care of you, Jake. All the time, until you get desperately sick of me--"

Jake licked into your mouth, aghast at the accusation. "Not ever, mi princesa. Nunca."

Your hot tongue chased over his and he swore he was moments from floating off the counter. Your soft sighs were making his hands more desperate where they brushed over the warm skin of your back.

You pulled back abruptly, eyes wild and lips swollen. Guilt was twisting at your face. "We have to tell Steven and Marc."

Jake shrugged, his pulled you back against him by the sides of your pajama pants and kissed you again.

"Ugh, don't worry about 'em. They already know."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, "Who do you think told me to come here in the first place?"

A silence divided you, words sinking in when you slapped his chest: plaguing him with a widening grin. "I was worried, you asshole."

"Claro, pero al menos ahora soy tu imbécil."

Sure, but at least now I'm your asshole.

-

comment and repost <3 mwah!

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #khonshu #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #moonknight fic #moonknight #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x reader

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Could you make a fic with Jake x reader that maybe she is in a relationship with the other two (Marc and Steven don't need to be in the whole fic, just mentioning them maybe?) And Jake at first is rude to her until one day she comes late from work and Jake is covered in blood (not his) from a mission that left him like really bad and he can't stop thinking about it, so the reader helps him (although she's a bit hesitant at first because one day he told her that he didn't want her close), she helps him get a shower, cleans some little cuts on his face, and then when his dressed and ready to sleep, he asks her to stay with him.

I hope it's not too much 😅💖

hii honey!! I love this! so very sorry this is so late. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 @thewinterv

stay a while

jake lockley x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || none? brief mentions of blood

I haven’t wrote for jake before, so I really hope this feels like him

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being in a relationship with Marc and Steven was always very entertaining, never shying away from a dull moment when you shared your time with them. As Jake didn't front as regularly as the other two, you were still foreign to one another, only ever meeting him occasionally. On the very few chances you've met, he was rather hostile towards you, much preferring to keep you at arm's length. You weren't sure if you upset him or offended him in some way, but you couldn't quite figure out what you may have done wrong for him to dislike you.

Returning home from an extra long shift, you pull your keys out of your bag, jingling in the lock before twisting. You open the door, and your eyes immediately land on a very thin trail of blood. Following the blood drips, you see the silhouette of someone hunched over your sink.

"Marc?" you whisper, reaching for the light switch.

Stepping forward, you see a newsboy cap on the counter. A heavy feeling now clouds your stomach. "Jake?" you ask, almost in disbelief.

"What's going on? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" you anxiously blabber, slowly walking towards him.

He grunts in response, yanking the small towel from the hook to dry his swollen and bloodied knuckles.

"That's a white towel," you mumble, watching the fabric fill with small red spots that were sure to stain.

His head snaps over his shoulder towards you, practically glaring at your comment.

"Don't worry, I got more," you awkwardly laugh, reaching into the cupboard for the first aid equipment. "That cut up there looks pretty bad," you start, nodding to the bust piece of skin above his eyebrow. "Let me help you clean it?"

"It's fine," he grumbles, dabbing the towel over it to 'clean' it, instantly wincing at the painful sensation.

"Doesn't seem fine," you say quietly, flicking on the tap and thoroughly washing your hands. "Just-" you say, pouring a small amount of antiseptic onto a cotton ball. "Can I?" you question, hesitantly extending your hand towards his face.

He nods in response.

You watch the way he flinched at your soft, delicate touch, practically cowering away from your comfort. "I'm gonna hurt you," you whisper, lightly blotting around the open skin. "It's okay," you say tenderly, cupping his cheek with your other hand, angling his face downwards as you clean his wound.

He closes his eyes as he melts into your tender touch, finally allowing himself to feel a moment of warmth.

"Okay, some of these are gonna need covering… I think you should have a shower first. Clean yourself up, and I can bandage you up after." you sweetly instruct, sorting through the bag as you search for everything you need for later.

"A shower?" he repeats, looking down at his blood-covered clothes.

"I have a change of clothes for you," you cutely laugh. "They're your exact size too,"

A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his lips, watching you with softened eyes.

"Bathroom is just down here. I'll put a pile of clothes on my bed for afterwards," you smile, leading him down the small hallway. "The controls are easy, but if you need me, call me…. oh wait, also. Clean towels in there," pointing to the cabinet behind the door.

As you turn on your heel, a soft yet firm grip on your arm halts your movements. "Thank you," Jake whispers, wryly grinning.

You sweetly smile. "No problem, take as long as you need,"

Allowing Jake some time alone to recuperate after his clearly intense mission, you make your way back into the kitchen to clean up the mess. Wiping the blood from the floors and counters, throwing the tissues, anything and everything to keep your mind busy.

You notice the quietness from the bathroom down the hall, hearing nothing but a few scuffles and small groans. You collect the first aid equipment, stuffing everything in the bag, walking towards your room. Waiting a couple extra minutes, you knock on the door, waiting patiently to enter.

"Yeah," Jake calls out from behind the door.

"Hi," you say slowly, making your way in, laying the creams and bandages on the bed. "I'll just quickly put these on, then you can get some rest,"

"Okay," he nods, sitting at the edge of the mattress, facing you.

With clean hands, you apply small dots of antiseptic cream on the cut areas, lightly rubbing it in as you gaze at his face, watching the dozen tiny expressions play out. You tear open a plaster, laying it across his temple, covering the bust part of the skin from earlier and gently smoothing the sticky part to his forehead.

"There we go, all better," you smile, kissing your finger and placing it over the fabric. "I'll let you get some sleep," you say somewhat awkwardly, not quite sure if you overstepped a boundary.

"Stay," he whispers, holding your arm to stop you from leaving. "I won't see you for a while. Please stay.”

#jake lockley #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fic #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely fluff #jake lockley fluff #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon boys

[st4rymoon]

☾ 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 ☾

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏: 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: overstimulation, fingering, pet names, mean dom jake, teasing, dumbification, choking, manhandling

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Jake had you sprawled on his bed, legs wide open for him. Your pussy was in full view for him to see “What a welcome” he hummed as he threw your legs over his shoulders.

Today, Jake didn’t want to focus on himself, he wanted to focused on you. Today was your day and he’d make sure you knew it.

He’d been gone for a few weeks now, busy doing his job without complaint. Now he was between your thighs as his fingers played with your sticky folds.

“Have you been playing yourself while I was gone?” Jake questioned. You hid your face into the pillow in shame, you did even when he told you not to.

Jake sighed as you nodded your head “you never do listen huh?”

Jake wouldn’t say he was surprised, he knew a needy little thing like you couldn’t keep from fucking themselves while he was gone.

Two of his gloved fingers dipped into your wet folds, spreading and scissoring your messy cunt. Jake kept his gloves on knowing the cold leather made you squirm.

The rough material rubbed your swollen clit, your body tensed as he teasingly dipped one more finger inside you. You whined as he removed his fingers but before you could complain he was manhandling you onto his lap.

He let out a groan as he pushed you back onto his leg and pinned your arm down “you couldn’t wait a few weeks sweetheart? Pussy was so damn needy you couldn’t wait for me?” He hummed.

His gloved hand squeezed your jaw, trailing his fingers into your mouth and pushing them in softly. You gagged a bit as he watched you with a smile on his face, both of your eyes glued to each others as he noticed your eyes start to water.

Bite he mouthed as he aligned the tip of his gloves to your mouth, allowing you to bite down and let him slip his hand out of the black leather. “Good girl” he praised as his ungloved finger trailed down your thigh.

Your hips bucked at the feeling of his fingers messily rubbing your slick all over your pussy “what’s the use of me giving you rules if you won’t follow them huh?” He sighed.

You shyly hid your face into his arm, jake scoffed at your audacity. You broke his rules that you agreed to and you act like it’s not your fault. “Look at me” he hissed, a loud sack landing onto your inner thigh.

“Jake please” you whined, your eyes gazing up at him in need “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. I was thinking of you, the way you feel. I missed you” cried.

“I know you did honey but if I can do it, you can too.” He cooed. His fingers lazily played with your soaked cunt, his fingers barley pushing into you before he pulled them back out.

You were squirming in his lap as he had you pinned onto him, his eyes watched your every move as he dipped into your little tight cunt. You let out a breathy gasp as he pushed his fingers in.

He slowly pumped in and out of you with a sly smile on his face “this what you missed? Missed me playing with this sweet little pussy? I sure did” he hummed.

You let out a deprived moan as he knuckled your pussy. You could feel his thick calloused fingers rubbing and hitting the perfect spot with such little effort.

You could hear the lewd sound of your wetness. Jake let out an accomplished moan as you stared up at him dumbly with your mouth agar.

He watched as your eyes rolled back into your head as he slammed his fingers into your messy cunt. Your legs instinctively tried to shut as your body began to spasm, causing Jake to pin you down with his other hand.

“Don’t squirm, don’t fight it honey. After all, you wanted this didn’t you?”

“J- jake o- oh my-“ you cried out, pussy gushing all over his fingers as he worked your body like a toy. He knew every inch of you, he knew exactly what could make you scream and cry for him to stop.

Your orgasm hit you hard as he rubbed your clit with his thumb, still knuckles deep. You moaned into his chest, clawing at his bicep as he whispered filthily praises.

“I know baby I know, it gets so much for you when I don’t listen huh?” He mocks. He continued to fuck his thick fingers into you and he didn’t plan on stopping.

He watched you lose the power to protest from the overstimulation, your pussy continued to swallow his fingers greedily as he played with the sticky slick dripping out of you.

After all, he had to teach you a lesson to listen.

#smut #marvel smut #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #jake smut #jake x reader #jake lockley #moonknight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight #oscar issac characters #oscar isaac characters #oscar issac imagine #kinktober #kink tober

[thedevilsoftruth]

Every inch of you

Pariring: ( COMIC ) Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley x Afab reader

Summary; You're driving back home after having your honey moon with Marc and your family is waiting back at home for your arrival but none of Marc's alters seem to want to take their hands off you.

Warning: This is just pure smut, its just straight up porn. Inaccurate depictions of DID, unprotected piv ( don't try this at home) dacryphilla, spanking, car sex, Jake being mean to the reader, several orgasms, cream pie, MDNI!!

Notes: Finding comic Jake Lockley or Steven Grant smut is like rare so i decided i would step up and make this. They're based on their characters in the comics, so Steven isn't british and Jake doesn't speak Spanish here, ( because he doesn't speak Spanish in comics and it's just easier on me bc I don't speak the language and don't want to offend fluent speakers) sorry mcu fans lol. ENJOY!

" S-Steven I'm almost there.. " You moaned out to your lover, grinding yourself against him in the driver's seat of his black Tesla. He watched you move against him pathetically, smiling at you devilishly.

" Go ahead, babe. But the boys say they want turns with you. " He rested one hand on your hip, his other right in between your bodies, his thumb rolling around your clit.

The thought of Steven switching to Marc or even worse, Jake, was horrific. Marc wasn't as bad as Jake but every time Jake had the chance to get inside you, he tore you apart like a piece of paper.

You buried your face Into the crook of Stevens neck, breathing in his minty scent and moaning chants of his name. He ran a hand down your back and started grinding into you at a steady rhythm.

" Dont let Jake be too rough with me, " you panted in his ear. He hummed In response, increasing his speed and finally hitting your sweet spot. Your face contorted in pure bliss and your lips let out a choir of endless pants and moans.

" I can't make promises i cant keep, princess. " he chuckled, kissing your shoulder and breathing into your skin.You bit your lip and let out an orgasmic moan, feeling him getting just to the right spot.

" Oh, f-fuck. R-right there, Steven! " You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders for dear life as he hit that same spot repeatedly, never changing his rhythm.

" Like that? " He asked, his usual gravelly voice changing to Marc's clear voice, letting you know he switched. All you could do was whimper and nod in response, to which he took well, pulling his hips back before thursting forward into your heat.

The windows in Steven's Tesla were fogging up, the inside of the car becoming hot with both of your ragged breathing. There wasn't anyone around in the empty parking lot he had parked in, the gas station nearby was completely closed and it was in the middle of no where, basically. All four of you knew you had to get back home soon and that your family was waiting for you, but Steven just couldn't resist you in that dress. Plus, you had just gotten back from your honey moon with them.He could just tell everyone you ran into bad traffic, right?

" Oh, Marc... so good. So, so good. " You moaned, craning your head back and grabbing onto the steering wheel from behind you. You sunk your bottom lip into your mouth as you felt waves of pleasure overtaking you, his cock buried into the deepest parts of you and his thumb still rubbing circles around your sensitive bud.

With one last long moan from your lips and one last thrust of his hips, you came undone all over him finally, your body quivering.

" Good girl, making a pretty little mess around me.. Oh, look at you." Marc cooed, swiping a drop of your milky white come off his shaft and licking it with his thumb. He leaned in and gave you a soft peck on your lips before you fell limp over his body.

" We should get going, baby. " You took a glance at the infotainment system and saw the same read 12:38 AM. A low groans errupted from Marc's chest and he pinched your thighs, making you yelp in surprise.

" But I'm not done with you. " He murmured against your ear, his voice deeper and more commanding than usual. You had forgotten about him.

" Go to the back. " Jake said, raising his big hand and giving your ass a slap. Those simple four words were enough to make you shake, especially hearing it from him.

" but it's getting late--"

" I won't repeat myself. " He snarled, slapping your ass again, this time harder. You quickly obliged, giving up your fight because you knew he was never going to agree. You climbed into the soft, black seats and layed down for him, allowing him to crawl on top of you. You automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming him back into your slick entrance and letting him capture your lips again.

" You have to do a better job at listening to me, princess. " He whispered harshly in your ear, rolling his hips against yours slowly, taking full advantage of your wetness. You averted your gaze from his intense eyes scanning your body. Your bottom lip trembled, knowing this would only be the beginning.

Jake grabbed your neck and forced your gaze back on him.

" okay? And you look at me when I fuck you, understand? " He hissed and gave your cheek a smack, his thrusts becoming faster amd harsher. His eyes glittered dangerously and you gulped, nodding quickly, your hands clutching the sides of the seat tightly.

" Y--yes, Jake. " you whimpered, barley even able to speak or look at him straight. A low hum came up his throat and he smirked.

" Good girl, so good for me. " he purred, his voice laced with dominance and desire. The intensity in his eyes sent shivers down your spine as he slammed his hips against yours, the force reverberating through your body. Your breath hitched at the sudden impact, the pleasure intermingling with a hint of pain, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. He brought his greedy hands underneath your shirt, his calloused fingers fondling with your breast gently.

Jake's touch, though possessive and demanding, held a seductive tenderness. His hand caressed your breast with a skillful touch, his thumb teasing your hardened nipple. Waves of pleasure coursed through your veins, electrifying every nerve ending in your body. The feeling of his hands on you, the feeling of him buried inside you. Your back arched instinctively, craving more of his touch, aching for the release that only he could give you.

His lips trailed hot kisses along your jawline, nipping at your sensitive skin.You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin brushing against yours as he moved with an agressive rhythm, driving you closer to the edge of oblivion.

" Oh, Jake... f-fucking hell, so good!" You moaned, throwing your head back, feeling him inside you so deep that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He leg go of your breast and used that hand to rub your throbbing clit and further stimulate you. You bit your lip to contain your moans and threw your hand at the window, trying to get ahold of anything for support.

" Yeah? You like that?" Jake growled, his voice heavy with desire as he continued to thrust into you with an intensity that not even Marc would dare to match. Each movement of his hips sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter and hotter with each passing second.

Jake's hand grasped your neck, his grip firm but not suffocating, shaking you slightly. Everying about him seemed to turn you on; The dominance in his touch, the way he controlled every aspect of your pleasure. it all sent shivers down your spine and a surge of arousal straight to your core. You were completely at his mercy, surrendering yourself to his insatiable hunger. And the both of you fucking loved it. He loved watching you writhe, whimper and beg for him beneath him; loved knowing that he could make you do that.

" Jake, almost there again--s-slow down. " You choked out, tapping his wrist gently but he was too busy losing himself to seeing you so fucked out of your mind.

" Hmm? what was that, baby? Go faster? " He teased, his words striking you straight to your core and making you whimper. He lossened his grip around your neck a little tear ran down your cheek. He pulled his hips back and the straight forward, back and forth back and forth, hitting that spot you so badly needed him to hit again.

" Jake... Jake, please. " You cried, tears of pure bliss running down your cheeks and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

" God its that good, aint it? So good it makes you fucking cry. " he laughs darkly, withdrawing his hand from your neck and wiping away your tears. All you could do was moan and nod.

" Yes, yes, oh god. " You mumbled, biting your lips hard as you tried to control your moans. Your fingers clenched his broad shoulders tight and your toes curled in pure ecstacy. He curled his fist into your scalp and growled.

" I want to hear you scream my name." He snarled, using his free hand to throw your quivering leg above his shoulder to deepen his thrusts. You gasped loudly and threw your head back into the leather seat, your nails digging into his skin.

" Say it, baby. I'm so far gone. " He whispered angrily, feeling himself coming to the edge of spilling inside you. You were also building up your high, your insides burning for that release. His cock slammed against your sweet spot persistently, and you were sure it would be any second before you came all over him again.

" Oh fuck, Jake, don't fucking stop! " the moans you were relasing were just straight up pornographic at that point, your face scrunching up in nothing but ecstasy.

" Louder. " He said, pushing himself as far as he could inside you.

" Dont stop, Jake! " and just hearing that made him release ropes of his milky white orgasm into your quivering cunt. The both of you were left simply panting, but he wasn't done.

" Tell me when, baby. " he said, giving you a couple fast thrusts before slowing down his pace a bit. You groaned loudly, the feeling of his release inside you and him still going was phenomenal. And then--

" S-stop. " You said, patting his chest. He nodded and stopped, pulling out halfway and feeling you release all over his length.

" Oh, so good. " he said, fully pulling out and watching your hips jerking involuntarily as you tried to recover. He smiled at you warmly and gave you a kiss.

" such a good girl, my good girl. " he said, running his finger through your hair as he looked down at you lovingly.

" what time is it? " You choked out. He lifted his right wrist and checked his apple watch.

" 1:20 AM " He murmured. it was probably going to take another hour to take back home and you were exhausted.

" okay whos driving? "

#marvel #marvel mcu #marvel smut #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marvel comics #marvel fanfiction #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x you #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight comics

[slayingqueenchal]

busy days | marc spector x f!reader

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

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

"Sorry sweetheart, Khonshu needs me"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#fanfic #fanfiction #y/n story #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockely x you #jake lockley #steven grant x y/n #moon knight #marc spector x y/n #moonknight angst #angst #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x oc #jake lockley x you #marc spector x oc #marc spector x you #steven grant x oc #steven grant x you #moonknight series #mcu fanfic #mcu moon knight #marvel cinematic universe #mr grant #moonknight #reader x marc spector #reader x steven grant

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

Getting Up Next To You

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

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

Word Count: 2.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you know it was me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure then! I would love to!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Yes! You deserve the world.”

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

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

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

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

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

“If you’d have me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Steven.”

“Good morning, love.”

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x oc #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #steven grant fanfiction