#jake lockley x fem!reade

[autismsupermusicalassassin]

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #marvel #moon boys #jake lockley x fem!reade #Single dad au

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[euphoricosmo]

Smutty Reccomends 18+

because i’m a whore for emotionally unavailable middle aged fictional men who can break my back and rearrange my guts, I’ve decided to compile a list of some of my favorites written by a lot of you unholy creatures out there😗

this list is clearly 18+ so MDNI pls and thank you🙂

Moon Boys

Office Party — Marc Spector x Fem! reader @romanarose — it was a party in my ovaries after reading this🙂

Praise Worthy — Steven Grant x fem! reader @starks-hero

Satisfactory Pt. 2 — Jake Lockley x fem! reader @welcometostayingawake JESUS. the amount of times i’ve gone back to read part one and two got me a front row seat on satan’s lap.

Tag Team — Marc Spector x fem! reader x Steven Grant x Jake Lockley @babyboibucky lawd have merthy🏃🏻‍♀️

Venus, Planet of Love — Steven Grant x fem! reader @peterthepark

Cracked Perfection — Jake Lockley x reader @jake-g-lockley just.. this man has me in a chokehold.

A Long Night — Steven Grant x reader/Marc Spector x reader/ Jake Lockley x reader @myfictionaldreams

Sunshine — Marc Spector x fem! reader @readerthatreadsss

Forbearance — Marc Spector x f! reader @inklore

Joel Miller

Morning Delight — no outbreak joel x fem! reader @ozarkthedog

Mine Truly and Forever part two — joel miller x fem/afab! reader @me-and-your-husband

The Third Date — pre-outbreak joel x fem! reader @guess-my-next-obsession good god.

The Reunion — joel miller x fem! reader @apenny4thots

Moment’s Silence — joel miller x fem! reader @nexusnyx

First Rays of Dawn — joel miller x fem! reader @deardjo

Miss Sunshine — pre-outbreak joel x neighbor! reader @nexusnyx THIS. one of my absolute favorites

Agent Whiskey

you can hear the song i know you can.

Save a Horse (ride a cowboy) — agent whiskey x fem! reader @deardjarin

Sugar — agent whiskey x fem! reader @punkpascalita

Frank Castle

Fight and Fuck — Frank Castle x reader @chrisevansredbelt

My Girl — Frank Castle x reader @frankcastlescumslut

no. no i no longer have ovaries after this so you’re welcome🫶🏻 might update as i find new favorites to add but until then, please give all these authors the love and reblogs they deserve!!

#moon knight #tlou #joel miller #marvel #frank castle #frank castle x reader #joel x reader #joel the last of us #marc spector smut #marc spector #joel miller smut #frank castle smut #agent whiskey #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader

[sailorkamino]

Hospital Bed Confessions

relationships: jake lockley x fem!reader, established marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

warnings: car accident/hospitalization/injuries, protective (but soft) jake, referenced childhood abuse, non sexual showering together, little bit of jealous!jake, jake has never been in a healthy/loving relationship and it shows.

translations: cariño- dear, princesa- princess, mi vida- my life, muñeca- doll

‘Has Y/N sent her home text yet?’ Steven asks from his reflection in Gus’ II’s and Gil’s fish tank. Jake looks away from the TV, “her what?” His alter looks annoyed, ‘you know what I’m talking about. The text She sends everynight to tell us she got home safe.’

Jake sighs dramatically picking up their shared phone. When he sees the late time illuminated on the screen something twists in his gut. Ever since you started dating Steven, and later Marc, you would send daily texts to whoever was fronting. The amount would vary depending on your workload but there were always three constants: good morning, I’m home, good night. 

Jake clenches his jaw. He tells himself he’s being irrational, clingy even. He tries to keep his voice even when he responds. “No, but she said she was working late.” 

This time it’s Marc that speaks up. ‘She should definitely be home by now. Call her.’ 

“You two are so dramatic,” he grumbles, although he was about to do that anyway. You don’t answer. Jake tries to ignore the worry churning in his gut. You’re an adult, you don’t need him hovering, but something feels off. Marc and Steven are pestering him to go to your flat but he barks at them in Spanish, trying to gather his own thoughts. A notification has them all freezing. 

Jake takes only a moment to read the message before an unreadable expression flickers across his face. He bolts out of the flat, leaving his altars in the dark. If you heard the way he was yelling at the cabbie to hurry up you would be pissed but manners are the last thing on his mind. Once the car comes to a stop he throws some money (including a tip because he’s not a monster) at the poor driver before jumping out. 

He’s practically running through the hallways, ignoring the poor doctors and nurses dodging his path. Finally he finds the room. He bursts through the door but the sight before him makes him freeze. He’s seen, and done, many violent things but seeing you hurt is something he’ll never forget. 

You peer at him for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw, before a tired smile spreads across your cut lips, “Jake.”  He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and approaches your bed. His hands clench by his sides. He wants to touch you, reassure himself that you’re here, but he’s afraid of hurting you worse. “You should see the other guy,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, eyes becoming impossibly darker. 

“What happened?” 

You blink slowly at him. You know Jake is incredibly protective but you had never witnessed it towards you. Jake has always kept you at arms length so to speak. You would text some whenever he was fronting but he woukd mostly just tell you about Marc and Steven. He didn’t seem to realize that you cared about him just as much, and wanted to get to know him too.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast. I was driving home, I saw headlights then just… pain.” You wince at the memory.

His gaze is much softer now. “Are you in pain now, cariño?”

The pet name has you grinning, despite how sore your face is. “Some, but not too bad. They have me on a lot of drugs.” His eyes travel your scratched and bruised form. He wonders how many more injuries he can’t see and clenches his jaw. “Where are you hurt?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing he won’t like the answers. “Umm my back is sprained, broken ribs, whiplash, and a concussion… plus I have some cuts but it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Your attempts to soften the blow do nothing as he curses in Spanish (which is actually really sexy but now is not in the time.) His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can only assume Steven and Marc are griping in his head.

You brush your fingers against his in an attempt to calm him down. He looks down to see you weakly grabbing his rougher hand, effectively making his heart stutter. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he hisses, gently running his thumb over your chilled skin. He lets go of your hand (much to your disappointment) so he can remove his jacket and drape it over your body. You breathe in the familiar cologne that all the boys wear, snuggling into the leather.

“Thank you, Jakey.”

He shakes his head at the nickname as he takes a seat in the plush chair beside your bed. You turn your head to look at him playfully. “You know this isn’t how I imagined our first date.” He scoffs in response, "this isn’t our first date." You feel the sting of rejection and consider hiding under his jacket to cry a little but then he takes your hand in his (where it belongs, in your humble opinion.)

"Once you're better I’ll take you somewhere real nice, okay? But you have to heal up first.”

Your heart rises from where it had fallen in the pit of your stomach to flutter in your chest. “I’d like that,” you hum. Your gaze travels to your interlaced fingers, thinking about your words carefully. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you liked me.”

‘Nice going, locker,’ Marc seethes mentally. ‘You hurt her feelings.’

Jake ignores him as usual. “Oh princesa,” he sighs deeply, “I’ll admit at first I didn’t trust you. Nothing personal, I just didn’t want Marc or Steven to get hurt. But then I saw the way you treated them and I started falling for you too.”

This time his altars are quiet. Your voice is soft when you ask, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. And you seemed so happy with them.”

Your heart melts at his confession. You’re not naive. You know Jake has a dark side. He’s the manifestation of anger and resentment Marc felt as an abused child, but he’s also a protector. “We’re lucky to have you,” you softly confess.

He looks at you in awe for a moment before you notice his lip slightly quivering. He bows his head but you can still tell he’s holding back tears. “Oh baby,” you coo softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him against your chest, or even wipe his wet cheeks, but your injured back and sides won’t allow it.

‘You deserve to be happy too, mate,’ Steven pipes up, only making his eyes burn more. ‘Yeah man, stop shutting her out. She cares about you,’ Marc adds.

“Are you okay?”

He nods slowly, his altar’s words echoing in his mind. “Sorry princesa, I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m glad you can be open with me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration it makes you shy. Then he gently kisses the back of your hand, “I should probably let Marc and Steven talk to you. They’re worried sick.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to visit me again, amor.”

He grins at the sound of you using his first language. “I promise, mi vida.”

____

Within a few days you’re released from the hospital. Your boyfriends insists on staying with you until you’re better.

“Alright muñeca, bed or couch?” Jake asks. “What about shower? I smell like the hospital.” You counter, leaning into his solid chest. His arm flexes around your waist as he leads (practically carries) you into the bathroom. “Do you need help, princesa?” He asks. You nod shyly.

You lean against the counter as he gingerly pulls your baggy shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare (you learnt quickly that broken ribs and bras don’t mix.) “There’s my beautiful girl,” he coos. You grin bashfully, looking away as he kneels in front of you to pull down your sweatpants and underwear, leaving a gentle kiss on your hip. “Jake!” You protest shyly with heated cheeks as he stands in front of you.

“Sorry mi vida, couldn’t resist. This is my first time undressing you, after all.” He smirks before ducking into the shower to turn it on. He strips himself before wrapping his large arms around you to help you in the shower. You let out a happy sigh as the warm water hits your sore body

“Stand still so I can wash you,” he instructs, reaching for your fruity body wash. “Wait,” you interrupt, making him freeze. “Can you use yours? I like smelling like you guys,” you sheepishly admit. It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re worried you weirded him out, when his lips brush against your ear,

“Marc wants you to know that that’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.”

You grin at his words, trying to ignore the goosebumps left in their wake. “Tell Marc he’s cuter.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting through me.”

You bring one of Jake's large hands to your mouth, pecking his knuckles. “Aw baby, don’t be jealous. You know I don’t play favorites with my boys.”

Jake smiles so big it makes his eyes crinkle. Suddenly belonging to someone doesn’t seem so bad, especially when they belong to you too. He wordlessly kisses your neck and reaches for their body wash. You giggle to yourself but it turns into a gasp when he puts the cold loofah on your back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks worridley, movements stilling. You shake your head softly, “no, I’m ok, just surprised me. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Once he’s washed your back and shoulders he helps you turn around to face him. He runs the loofah over your front, being extra careful of your broken ribs. He places intermittent kisses across your face and forehead to distract you from any discomfort, mumbling apologizes against your damp skin.

After you’re cleaned off he helps you out of the shower, running a fluffy towel across your body to dry you off. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, mi vida,” he coos as he walks you to your room and sits you on your bed. He grabs you some underwear then moves to your closet.

“What do you wanna wear?”

You immediately point to your favorite stolen item of clothing. “The black jumper.”

Jake takes it off its hanger, examining it closely. “Is this Steven’s?”

“Mhmm, I always take his clothes.” You confess as he lays it on the bed beside you.

“Well Steven isn’t the one who just helped you shower but by all means,” he grumbles to himself as he helps you pull up your panties. You playfully roll your eyes at his childness. “I already told you, baby, I don’t play favorites, it’s just that Stevie wears the comfiest shirts. And besides, I don’t have any of your clothes yet.”

“Oh, so now he’s Stevie?”

“I tried to call you Jakey and you said you didn’t like it.”

“I was lying! Obviously!”

You scoff at his unprecedented jealousy. “Just get in bed, Jakey. I want to watch Encanto.”

____

A few Disney movies later Jake leaves to get you dinner and feed Gus II and Gil. When he comes back he’s bearing gifts.

“This one’s from me,” he explains proudly, presenting an oversized Yankees shirt. “And this piece of trash is from Marc,” he groans comically, presenting a Chicago shirt. You giggle at his dramatics, making him smile proudly.

“Oh and the flowers were Steven’s ideas but I picked out the type,” he adds on, holding out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. If your body wasn’t in so much pain you’re sure your heart would be beating out of your chest cartoon style.

“I have the best boyfriends ever.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon boys

[sl-ut]

tipsy

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader, slight marc spector and steven grant x fem!reader (reader is in a relationship with the system)

description: y/n returns from a night out with her girls and can’t resist from how beautiful her boyfriend is.

warnings: SMUT, reader is intoxicated (just tipsy, not wasted) and kind of a bitch, mocking, oral (m receiving), shower sex, moonboys arguing

words: 3K

date posted: 18/01/23

The apartment was silent when Jake jolted awake, save for the bubbling of Gus’s fish tank and the faded roar of London’s nightlife. He groaned, neck clicking back into place as he leaned back into the desk chair, cursing at Steven for nodding off in such an uncomfortable position. His sight was fuzzy, eyes still heavy with sleep as he glanced at his surroundings; several books on Egyptology laid spread open across the top of the desk, an uncapped highlighter tossed carelessly on the floor and a series of fluorescent yellow smudges staining his fingertips. Sighing, he pushed himself away from the desk, leaving it exactly how he found it–Steven could clean up his own mess–as he reached into the cupboard for a bottle of amber whiskey. 

He took three small sips from it, careful not to allow himself to feel any sort of strong effects from the alcohol, as he always did when Y/n went out with her friends, always prepared to go pick her up in the early hours of the morning if he needed. He glanced at the clock on the oven, squinting to read the bright green letters.

3:36 AM.

His eyes immediately shot over to the bed, alarmed when he found the blankets in the same haphazardly made fashion that Steven had left them in as he rushed out the door to work; the boys had quickly learned to do so in order to avoid a lecture from their girlfriend. 

“Damn it Steven, you were supposed to stay awake until she got home,” He swore as he turned to meet Steven’s snarky stare in the reflection of the window. 

I’m sorry, but she’s not normally out this late, Steven huffed, Usually a night out has her home and in bed by midnight.

Jake, He turned his head to find Marc in the reflection of Gus’s tank, He's right, she should be home by now.

Panic arose in his chest. Quickly, he abandoned the bottle of whiskey on the desk as he crossed the small studio apartment, forcing himself through the closed bathroom door. He called her name frantically, catching Steven once again in the bathroom mirror.

I’m sure she’s alright, maybe she called after I nodded off.

Jake nodded, turning into the bedroom and pausing. The personal cell phone that they all shared was not in its usual place on the bedside table, nor was it in the pants that Steven had worn to work that day, or small pocket inside his satchel. Jake ignored the Brit’s yelling of discontent as he watched him dump the contents of his brown leather bag on the floor, searching through the mess of papers and granola bar wrappers.

“Where the hell did you leave it, Steven?”

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of a key shakily being jammed into the lock, trained eyes watching as the lock began to turn and the door slowly creaked open, and finally letting out a breath of air as he watched his girlfriend stumble over the threshold of the apartment. 

“Helloooooo,” She sang out, jumbled giggled falling from her lips, “I’m here, somebody come love me, please!”

Jake shook his head as he stifled his chuckle, stepping forward and into the dim lighting provided by Steven’s desk lamp. His eyes did a quick scan over her body, searching for any sign of blood or injury, though the only sign of a struggle was the long run in her tights and her lack of shoes.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, though a mischievous grin spread across her cheeks as she leaned across the back of the couch, “Well hey there, big boy.”

He smirked, copying her posture as he rested his shoulder against one of the many vertical beams. He could tell by the way that she was looking at him that she was attempting to figure out exactly who she was talking to. Her eyes flickered over to the desk, taking in the dishevelled appearance of the books and the man who had once been sitting there. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

He nodded at her, refusing to speak so that she would need to guess which one of the three it was. On a regular day, it would be easy for her, but in her state it might have been more difficult. 

“Well,” she slid forward to stand in front of the desk, “These are all Steven’s books here, but from the looks of them,” she fingered at the crumpled and folded pages before glancing over her shoulder at him, “And you, he fell asleep.” She turned, pushing the books back so that she could boost herself onto the edge of the wooden desk, “But Steven doesn’t drink whiskey.”

Jake nodded once more as she gazed at him through hooded eyes, slowly fluttering her lashes in a manner that she knew would have any of them weak in the knees. He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest to mock the way that Marc might stand. 

“Hi Jake.”

He scoffed, dropping his arms as he crossed the room to stand right in front of her. He allowed her to tug him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding her hands over his arms to knead his biceps gently. 

“How’d you know it wasn’t Marc?”

She smirked up at him, leaning closer to whisper into his ear, “You didn’t look grumpy enough.”

His head rolled back as a hearty laugh rumbled out of his chest, growing even deeper as Marc shouted in protest and Steven agreed with her. 

“Oh,” He rested his hand on his belly, “He didn’t like that, princesa.”

She shrugged, leaning forward to nudge his nose with her own, “He can punish me for it later. But for now…” Her hands slid down his arms, around his back and landed just above his bum as she tightened her legs around him, “I’m all yours.”

He allowed her to press a warm, sloppy kiss to his awaiting lips, but didn’t allow it go any further as she began to wiggle against him. 

“We were worried about you,” He told her, “You’re usually home a lot earlier.”

“I know,” She shrugged, “I called and texted.”

“I couldn’t find the phone,” He admitted.

She raised a brow as she glanced down, nodding in the direction of where the phone was almost entirely covered in scattered paper, save for the corner. 

“Well apparently I didn’t look quite as hard as I could have.”

“Apparently not.”

Where are her shoes?

“What happened to your shoes?” He asked, both genuinely concerned and hoping to change the subject from his failure to find a scarcely hidden cell phone. 

“I took them off.” She shrugged, “I think Jenny has them.”

Now what if she had stepped on a needle or-or a sharp rock? 

Check her feet, they might be bleeding. 

Jake did as Marc instructed, stepping away and unwrapping himself from her limbs so that he could inspect her feet. They were dirty, of course, and the sheer fabric around the bottoms of her feet was torn up. There appeared to have been a few scrapes from the sidewalk, but the worst of the injuries were the two large busted blisters on each of her heels, oozing blood and various other fluids. 

“Shit, cariño.” Jake rushed to the bathroom, returning a moment later with the first aid kit. 

“That’s why I took ‘em off.” She shrugged, leaning back on her palms and allowing him to care for her feet, flinching as his fingers touched the swollen areas around the blisters. 

He sat in the unsteady office chair, carefully pulling her feet into his lap and tugging at the tights, “Can I rip these?”

She barked out a laugh, “Now you’re asking? You’ve ripped a lot of my nicer things off of me without any notice.”

He grinned up at her, ignoring the heat that grew in the tips of his ears at her lewdness. One thing that he always appreciated about these nights out was that she always lost all shyness and reservation the moment that a single drop of alcohol touched her tongue. 

“You certainly didn’t mind all those other times.”

“That’s because you rocked my world right afterwards. You gonna do that now?”

He glanced down, not ignorant to the way that his pants grew tighter at her words. 

She’s drunk, Steven argued, Don’t take advantage of her.

“You’re drunk,” He noted, tearing the material away from her feet and beginning to dab at the open sores. 

“Tipsy,” She corrected, “And horny. Please?”

He shook his head softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her kneecap, “Tomorrow, cariño.”

Y/n groaned, “I don’t want it tomorrow.”

He raised his brow as he finished cleaning her heels, “Oh really? I’ll keep that in mind. Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

She shook her head, pushing past him–making sure to bump his shoulder as she did so–and pausing in the bathroom doorway, “I need to shower.”

He sighed, carefully packing the first-aid kit back up and leaving it on the desk before making his way over to the bed. He leaned back against the headboard, glancing over to the partially closed bathroom door, only allowing him to see the vanity, though the mirror allowed him to see the figure he’d been longing for. 

He watched the reflection as she carefully peeled herself free of the ruined tights before reaching for the zipper on the side of her dress. His breathing became laboured as he watched each article to fall away, leaving her bare to the world as the mirror began to gloss over with steam. 

Go for it, Marc advised, If she’s really that mad about it then she’s definitely not that drunk. She’s never this unreasonable when she’s drunk.

Don’t, Steven argued, She’ll get over it.

Jake groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly as the two argued in his mind, “Shut up, both of you. I can’t even hear myself think.”

He pondered for a moment, then finally made his decision. 

The bathroom was frosted in steam, Jake’s body temperature skyrocketing as he stepped inside. He glanced down at the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, withholding a groan as he recognized the familiar pair of pink lace panties that had been thrown on top, carefully dropping his own clothes on top. 

The curtain prevented him from spotting any details, but he could faintly make out her figure as she stood beneath the pounding stream of hot water. She did not seem surprised to hear the curtain run quietly along the track as he stepped in, refusing to turn to face him as he stepped into the stream as well, wrapping his arms carefully around her waist and holding her back to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured into her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, “I don’t wanna take advantage of you, mi amor.”

She was frustrated with him, but she simply couldn’t avoid the way that she slumped into his embrace so easily. She sighed, tilting her head back to rest against his shoulder as their eyes met, a silent understanding.

“You wouldn’t be,” She argued softly, “But it’s okay.”

He kissed her lips softly, one hand coming up to grasp at her hair and help her to remove the remaining suds of shampoo. He pushed her gently to stand a bit further from him, allowing him to run a generous amount of conditioner through the ends of her hair. When he was finished, she turned, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pressing herself against him.

“I love you,” She whispered into his shoulder, but he heard nonetheless. 

“Yo también te amo angel.”

He felt the corners of her lips turn up against his flesh as she glanced up at him, wickedness clear in her eyes.

“What are you–oh!”

He gasped as her hand moved down, wrapping firmly around his length, which had been unabashedly erect against her thigh as they embraced, proving to her that he truly did want her. 

“Let me do you,” She whispered to him, beginning to administer slow pumps, “That’s all. Please, Jakey.”

NO!

Looks like she’s going to either way, bud. May as well enjoy it.

She kissed him softly, taking his eager response to her as permission. Cautious not to slip, she lowered herself to kneel in front of him, gazing up at him through her lashes as she carefully dragged her tongue up the bottom of him, cupping his sack in her slick palm. 

He groaned, leaning back against the wall in submission to her. She giggled, pressing the softest of kisses to his flesh before finally taking as much of him into her mouth as she could manage. Jake choked on his own spit, one hand carefully finding the nape of her neck to support her movements while the other ran through his own locks, smoothing the wet curls out of his face so they couldn’t obstruct his view.

“Baby-shit,” His hips stuttered forward, his tip grazing the back of her throat.

Her mouth curved around him, though she did not pause or slow her movements to respond with some witty comment, as he knew she had wanted to. 

Hey!

His eyes snapped up, finding Steven staring back at him in the reflection of the stainless steel shower head.

“W-what now?” He stammered out, not noticing the way that she glanced up at him, but didn’t stop; she was more than accustomed to the boys talking and arguing with one another while she was having sex with one of them.

Shut the water off! I don’t even wanna look at the bill we’re gonna get this month.

Jake almost laughed, hell, he probably would have if he hadn’t been balls-deep in his girlfriend’s mouth. Reaching over, he grasped the handle and turned the water off before turning back to watching her. She raised a brow, a silent question.

“Steven complained about the water bill,” He explained, groaning as she choked slightly around him as a small laugh vibrated around her body.

He pressed on the back of her neck, prolonging the feeling of her choking around him for a few moments before pulling her back and hauling her up to her feet. His lips met hers in a furious kiss, tongues intertwining and teeth gnashing as he grasped at her thighs, carrying her out of the shower and dropping her onto the countertop as if she were a doll. 

Eagerly, she spread her legs, grinding against him. He pulled away, moving down her body in hopes of returning the favour, though he was stopped by her, grasping his chin tightly and pulling him back up.

“No, no,” She gasped, “I need you. Please, I just need–”

“It’s okay,” He soothed, pulling her to the edge of the counter and lining himself up, “I got you, I got you.”

He slid into her easily, her folds sopping with arousal. Another perk of these nights out was that she was always so ready for him, and was always so responsive to his touch. He laughed as she squirmed against him, crying out louder than she normally would as his tip kissed her cervix. 

Y/n rocked against him, meeting his every thrust without fail and shivering as her clit continued to be tickled by the dark curls on his pubis. Her arms wound around him, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his muscular back as she gripped him for dear-life.

“Jake,” she gasped, “I’m not gonna last long.”

“I know,” He grunted, hands grasping her bum to pull her into his thrusts even more, “Me neither, princesa.” 

“I love you,” She cried out over and over as if it were some spell that she might have been using to bewitch him–that was the only way that Jake could explain how he was so easily manipulated by her every whim and became so enthralled by her simple presence. 

“I love you,” He panted, “I fucking love you.”

His mouth took her lips, absorbing every sigh and moan that dared escape and committing them to memory. He wanted to encase every little bit of her being within himself, consume anything that she was willing to offer, especially her jerking movements and desperate whines as she tightened around him, spilling her release all over his member as he struggled to hold on.

“Come on,” She urged him, eyes hooded and hazy as she came down from her high, “Jake, come on. Please give it to me.”

Her words were enough, his hips stuttering through his final few thrusts before white-hot pleasure exploded within him. He groaned out loudly, following through with a few gentle movements to work himself through it before he slipped out.

They remained there for a few moments, wrapped in each other’s arms as they both came down, melting into one another and whispering sweet nothings. She kissed his shoulder softly, then reached up to meet his lips once more, allowing herself to force every ounce of love she had for him to flow through the embrace.

He chuckled when she pulled away, “Aren’t you glad I said no now?”

She shook her head, “You only made yourself suffer, I could have woken up Marc or Steven to do me the second you fell asleep. I was getting it one way or another.”

He frowned at her, pinching her thigh in retaliation, “You think that either of them could do what I just did?”

Watch it, amigo. I could have done her twice as hard as you did.

Jake grinned at his reflection over her shoulder turning back to his girlfriend, “By the way, Marc called you unreasonable.”

HEY!

#jake lockely imagine #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #marc spector #marc spector fic #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #jake lockely fic #marvel #mcu #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine

[first-edition]

Moon boys (Steven grant/ Marc Spector/Jake lockley X Fem! Reader)

Sum- Night before christmas your husbands give you a special gift.

Warnings- Oral sex (fem recv.), SEX. P-in-V, Unprotected, rough sex, hair pulling, light slapping, squirting, mirror kink (if you squint.), riding, pet names, mention of both male and female parts, cussing, 18+ language and themes, after care, long intercourse, hickies, my ditty google translate Spanish. (Sorry)

SMEI-PROOF-READ sorry for errors (suck it up)

THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 READ WITH CAUTION AND HAPPY SMUTMAS.

Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, you watch as Steven feeds his fish the premium fish food he got for christmas. 

“There you go gus…special food.” he says watching him eat it. 

“What are you doing baby?” Marc speaks as he stands putting the food to the side. 

“Nothing.. Just watching you both talk to the fish.” you smile looking up to him as he walks to you standing in front of you. 

“I got all the presents wrapped and under the uh…tree.” you say looking over at the fake little tree that sits on a box in the corner of the room. 

“Hmm. Steven not get a real one this year?” he asks you to shake your head. 

“It's okay though.” you say scooching back onto the bed as he kneels on it the covers dipping under his weight. His lips connect with yours as you both share a passionate kiss. 

His lips move to your jaw line. 

“Fuck…you smell so good.” he grunts into your neck leaving sloppy kissing behind. His hands move under your shirt. You feel his calloused fingers against the skin of your waist moving higher to connect to your breast as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I know you feel so much better.” he says gruffly in your ear causing blush to attack your face your breathing speeding up. You take his face in your hands connecting his lips with yours. His hand leaves your chest and moves to your thigh pulling your legs apart lifting your leg up and around his waist holding onto your thigh before leaning back from your lips and pulling off his shirt. 

His scarred, ripped chest mouthwatering to your sight. He pulls off his belt discarding it and his shirt somewhere in the room. He comes right back to your lips kissing you deeply breathing in your scent. Your hands feel along his skin. Breaking the kiss for s second once more to pull your shirt off your breast free nipple harder from both arousal and cold air. Youre left in your small christmas themed panties. 

“Imma give you over to steven baby huh?” Marc speaks lowly, glazing in the mirror after Stephen was yelling at him to go first. 

“M-marc.” you breathly speak. He kisses down your body since they've learned to shift without it looking like a seizure; it's seamless to his voice shifting into Steven's sweet English accent. 

“I'm going to take these off now, love.” he speaks softly which makes you giggle at his politeness where Mark would rip them off without asking. 

You nod to him and he pulls off your panties, mouth watering at the sight of you always so wet and ready for him. 

Before any other word or action can be done he grips your thighs throwing them over his shoulders and diving face first into your cunt his skilled tounge immedtley finding your clit suckling and swirling. 

“A-ah! f-Fuck! Ste-steven!” you scream out in pure pleasure of a moan as you weren't expecting such pleasure so fast it shocked you. He answers you with a moan, the vibration hitting a new type of nerve. 

Your hand finds his hair gripping his fluffy curls, your other hand gripping the bed sheet under you, your back arching. His tongue dips into your entrance back to your clit over and over as your writhe in pleasure. He will never miss the chance to eat you out so good you go absolutely brain dead for him. 

Marc should be waiting in his headspace but he sits in the reflection with Jake, arms crossed, watching as you moan and whine under Steve's firm grip holding onto your thighs. The sight of his alter makes you feel the best turning him on even more. Making him more excited for his turn. 

“St-steven..ah sl-slow down. Ngh!” you gasp out back arching as you feel your climax approaching. But he does the exact opposite and wraps his arms around each thigh sitting up kneeling sitting back on his heels pulling your body up with him your lower half off the bed. 

You gasp as you make eye contact with him, his eyes dark and lust blows before your eyes roll back cumming into your husband's mouth. 

You grip the sheets tightly as your orgasm washes over you. Giving your cunt one last drag lick of his tongue does he carefully set you down licking his lips before wiping his mouth like he just devoured his dinner. 

You pant fuck out already with out even any dick. Steven glances at the mirror and Marc fronts getting up off the bed pulling off his pants, his already hardened cock leaking and twitching in his grasp. 

“You ready for round two baby?” he asks not really wantign an answer as he’ll fuck you anyway. 

“Wh-what?” you ask not to hear him. But before you can decipher the message he pulls your legs again rubbing his tip up and down against your used slit. You flinch in pleasure as he brushes over your stimulated clit. 

“Come here honey.” he says taking your arms placing them around his neck as he allows you to brace for the fucking hes gonna give you. 

He slides in easily as you were well teased before. Bottoming out in you in no time he begins to thrust up into you. 

“Shit…” he groans, feeling you clench down around him. Your nails dig into his skin as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Ma-a-a-arc!” you moan out as he impales you over and over his member is perfect in every way filling you so good. 

“You fucking slut baby, my fucking slut huh?” he groans. 

“yes - ah -y-yours.” you moan uncontrollably as he pulls your leg over his shoulder kissing and marking up your inner thigh. He pants and groans at your pulsing walls as he takes you over and over. 

He leans back slighting allowing his hand to dip between you his thumb connecting to your overly sensitive clit and with a view rubs you cum on his cock mouth opening into an o face beautifully contorting. Your clenching cunt around him makes Marc cum deep into you with a moan. 

He lets go of your leg carefully taking it off his shoulder resting it on the bed making sure to stay in between your legs. He leans down to you kissing your face and neck making you giggle. Marc chuckles into your neck as you wrap your arms around him pulling him down to you.

“Don't say that,” he says. 

“I didn't say anything.” you speak. 

“Mm-mm not you baby, jake.” he says, glancing back at the mirror set up in the corner of the room, a hidden kink between the two of you.

You turn your head, you see you and Marc are still tangled in each other, you smirk before pushing Marc over to your on top of him. You look behind you at the mirror before Marc smacks his hand down on your ass making you gasp and giggle again. 

“Come on Jake, honey, if you got something to say. say it to my face…papi.” you joke the last word. The once soft placement of Marc's hand on your ass turns into a tight grip. 

“I was saying, that if you can smile and laugh you havent been fucked rough enough.'' Jake says you look down seeing your other lover. Hard blush now pasting your cheeks. 

“F-fuck.” you stutter not expecting him to actually front. Out of the three you rarely see jake he’ll only come out when both marc and steven arnt doing well and usually he’ll come out to give you the fucking of a life time. But on rare occasions he’ll join you in the shower just to run his hands along your body, tease you about and then help you dry and dress before cuddling for a bit before you wake up and either Marc or Steven are back. But goddamn is he good at after care.

His arm extends his hand wrapping around your throat snugly before he sits up. Your mouth falls agape. 

“What? No smile for me Princessa?” He says you give a cocky smile before he slaps your cheek, not enough to do any true damage but just enough for you to feel as it goes straight to your pussy again squeezing around his now hardened dick. 

“Smile again.” he says which comes out more like a threat as his lips grazing against your jaw line. You do so and in return get another slap making you giggle which pisses him off more he takes his other hand, the one he slapped you with, and pulls your head back by your hair causing a whimper out of you wiping the smile off your face. 

He takes his handoff your throat and moves it to your hip patting your skin speaking his accent strong. 

“Ride,” he speaks. You don't listen but once he gives a firm tug to your hair you whine and then move your hips forwards and back. His grip on your hair loses but not enough for you to look at him as you still look at the ceiling. 

“Arms behind your back, hold your elbows.” He instructs you to immediately list and put them behind your back, bending them and holding onto your own elbows to keep them there much like how he would time them with his belt. 

“Mm good girl.” he groans as your hips move against you forcing all of him to shift in you. Moving his hand from your hip to your breast he pinches your nipple playing with it while his mouth connects to the other one. 

“J-jake.” you gasp out. He tugs on your hair and bites your nipple. 

“Nuh uh!” he snaps at you. 

“P-papi.” you stutter out. 

He hums loosening the grip on your hair once again. 

“Come on princess, you can ride better than that. Marc and Steven had you being a pillow princess, with me, you're gonna work for it.” he says slowly. You pick up the pace but unfortunately you feel as though you're not going to last long. Not with your clit rubbing against him and his cock hitting the perfect spots. He can feel you clenching around him as your movement becomes sloppy he lets go of you completely and grips both your hips stopping you forcing you to freeze your motions panting in ecstasy. 

Your legs shake under you as your orgasm is put on hold. When your legs stop shaking and your breathing goes back to normal, Jake pats your thigh and lays back. 

“Go again.” he says, your eyes widened as you look at him. He raises his eyebrow at you, tightening his grip on your thigh. 

“¿Hice tartamudeo?” He asks you dont answer having known very very little Spanish or atleast what he's taught you. 

“Did I stutter whore?” he asks again not wanting to ask again. 

“No.” you answer only for a sting to hit your thigh as his hand slaps down against the skin. 

“No papi.” you fix your mistakes quickly. Your hips begin to move again keeping your arms behind your back once again feeling the slow eventual build up of an orgasm. Once again he stops you in your lust filled state feeling your cunt fluttering around him making him go crazy on how you please him with being so obedient to his commands. 

“Again,” he says. You let out a shaky breath and once again continue grinding against him. This time you reach your high faster but Jake can still tell but this time he doesn't stop you as he sees tears threatening at the corner of your eyes and your flushed body and worn out legs. 

You reach behind you taking your arms untangling them and bringing your hands up to his chest to support yourself. 

“Go on. Princessa cum for me hm?” he says as your nails dig into his chest making him groan in pleasure as you fuck yourself on him finally cumming. 

“My turn.” he chuckles and grips your hips and roughly thrusts up into you causing you to scream out a moan. Your head falls forward, your hair falling in front of your face as you take his cock once again.

His hand shifts again to your clit making sure to fully overstimulate you. You hear his moans underneath you as you feel his dick twitch inside you signally he’s close. 

“P-pa-api..ah ah!” you moan out the neighbors surely hearing you. 

“Come on princessa squirt on me! hacer un lío hacer un lío.” he speaks 

(make a mess)

“Agh fuck.” Jake groans out as he roughly thrusts up into you cumming deeply into you once again and as if on cue the last rub of your clit your body does exactly what he demanded. Your cunt squirts on him painting his abs.

He chuckles sitting up holding your head up from the back of your neck. Kissing your lips. 

“Good girl.” he says. Before carefully pulling you off him and setting you down he gets you going to the bathroom turning on the bathtub water before wetting a washcloth with the warm water cleaning off his stomach from you and his cum. Hurryign back to you he sees you breathing lightly fucked out laying on your side nude in bed. You're covered in hickies.

“Princess.” he speaks calmly as he pulls his boxers off the floor pulling them on. 

“Hey” he says moving your hair out of your face brushing his thumb against your cheek. You lean into his touch causing a smile to form on his face. 

“You alright?” he asks you to nod your head. 

“Come on.” he says, lifting you like a rag doll and pulling you up into his arms, lifting you off the bed before taking you to the bathroom to help clean up. He changes the sheets and helps you dry and dress before drifting back off to sleep with you. 

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven grant x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #Marc spector #marc spector x reader #Marc Spector x reader smut #Jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley x reader smut #Moon knight smut #moonknight x reader smut #Moon boys x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc Spector x jake lockley x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc spector x jake lockley x reader #jelsasnowflakessmutmas #smutmas 2023

[st4rymoon]

Terrible Lie

Paring 〉Dom! Jake Lockley x Brat Fem Reader (Ft. Steven and Marc)

Genre 〉smut and some fluff

Warnings 〉sex toys (reader gets caught using one), teasing, slow burn? Kinda?, semi-impact play, semi-breath play, fingering, pussy eating, language, pussy drunk Jake, slight jealous (Marc and Steven), kinda mean Jake, after care

Summary 〉The boys 2 weeks away drove you crazy. Deciding to find your own entertainment, you get a surprise you’d never expect.

[Jake speaking some Spanish, translations at end]

Don't like don't read!

Although Jake was the one who fronted the least out of the boys, you both still had a great relationship.

He would let Steven and Marc take control most of the time due to being used to being on the sidelines which you understood but you’d always encourage him to spend time with you if he’d like.

The boys had some business to take care of for a few days which left you alone for a while. You were used to their short times away but they never felt any less better when they came around.

Unbeknownst to you, Steven ‘forgot’ to tell you that Jake had taken the body for a few days and would be coming home early added with the fact that he also ‘forgot’ to tell Jake you’d be at their place when he’d arrive.

You missed your boys, 2 weeks without seeing them was saddening, to say the least. So without them there, you decided to invest in a new toy to keep your mind at ease.

Your friends had been telling you about a vibrator they had gotten, praising it and its ability to get the job done fast so you decide to give it a try.

You tossed on one of Stevens sweatshirts and threw yourself onto the bed, toy at hand as you spread your legs. You played with the settings a little, chuckling in surprise as you pressed the highest setting causing the vibrating to louden.

“no..” you shook your head, deciding your go slow before testing out that hell of a setting. You sunk into the pillows, taking in the scent of Marc and Steven as you wore Stevens clothes and laid onto Marc’s usual pillow.

Your fingers trail down your stomach, rubbing yourself through your soaked panties as your mind flashed to Stevens whines and Marc’s moans.

You thought about how Jake would sound, would he whine? Moan? You had a feeling he’d be vocal but never got the chance to truly find out since he’d never mentioned sex.

You thought maybe he didn’t find you sexually attractive or maybe had no attraction to you at all. But little did you know it was quite the opposite.

Jake would hear Stevens and Marc’s conversations about you, how good you felt, how sweet you tasted. They tried convincing him to front more, telling him you always asked and questioned them about him.

He knew all of it already, listening from behind and even sometimes studying your body through the mirror when one of the boys was bottoming you out.

He loved the way your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, that shaky whine you’d let out everytime you’d cum made him dizzy.

-

You tossed your panties to the side, planting your legs wide as you pressed the vibrating silicone toy onto your soaked cunt. Dragging it between your folds slowly as you pressed it onto your swollen clit.

Your body shook in pleasure, the cold silicone making you whine as you felt your slick run down your folds. Your mind automatically went to the thought of Jake, imagining the way his mouth would feel, how his hands would feel as he wrapped your legs around his shoulders.

“Fuckk…” you purred as the images became vivid. Imaging his tongue flicking your clit as he pumped his thick fingers in and out of you.

-

Jake was happy to be home, happy that Steven would call you in the morning and see you’re pretty face again.

He was fiddling with his keys when he heard a quiet vibrating, stopping in his tracks as he listened closely. He guessed Marc must’ve left that damn desk light on again since it happens to buzz when left on for too long.

Pushing the door open quietly his eyes widen as he heard your soft moans from the bedroom. He thinks he must be imagining things as he hears you whine out his name.

He locks the door behind him and walks towards the bedroom. He stops in his tracks as he sees your legs sprawled across the bed with your face buried in the pillow.

“Fucking hell,” Steven says through the mirror. He looks at Jake as if to ask why he isn’t between your legs already. “If you aren’t going to do something let me take the body” Marc pleads as he looks at you through the mirror.

Jake's eyes are glued onto you, completely ignoring the boy's words as he watches your legs shake softly.

“Que vista”

You jump at the sound of a low voice from beside you. “STE- Jake?” You semi-yell as you toss the vibrator beside you.

“Don’t stop preciosa, by all means, keep going” Jake nods. His stare burns through you from his hooded eyes as he leans onto the doorframe with his arms crossed, biceps bulging through his black button-up.

“I- I didn’t know you were coming back so early” you mutter as you pull the sheets onto your naked bottom half. You try and hide the vibrator as if he didn’t just see you with your legs spread wide open while you cried his name into the pillow.

“And I didn’t know you’d be home” he smiles. He walks up to the side of the bed, moving your arm away and yanking the vibrator from behind your back.

“Moaning my name out while you played with yourself? Bet Marc and Steven are jealous knowing I haven’t even touched you once and your cumming at the thought of me” he snarks.

“No I wasn’t” you protested unconvincingly. Your face was burning from embarrassment, of course, the few times you see Jake he catches you legs spread while you fucked yourself.

“No me gustan las mentirosas” he sighs, his eyes watching you closely as you squeezed your legs together. “If you're just going to lecture me get out and let me finish” you hiss as you grow irritated as the feeling of being stopped mid-way through your orgasm sinks in.

His eyebrows raised in surprise at the back talk. He’s never heard you talk like this even with Marc or Steven. He guessed he either really pissed you off or you just like being a brat with him.

“Well I’m not the one who is fucking themselves in their boyfriend's home now, aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere” he chuckles.

You wanted to say something snarky back but stopped yourself as you saw the way his pants grew tight around his crotch.

He didn’t notice that you saw his growing bulge through his pants. He hoped it would be too dark for you to see but he was unaware of your ability to see slightly better in the dark.

“Give it back” you whine as you try and grab the toy out of his hands. He yanks back teasingly, shaking his head as he turned around and started to walk away.

“NO no please” you pleaded “please jake please”

He closed his eyes at the sound of your soft whines. “You know Steven and Marc are too nice to you, always giving you what you want. Is that why you're acting like such a fucking brat with me? Because I don’t give you want you want?”

You know he’s right, he knows he’s right by the way you stay quiet and groan in annoyance. Jake can hear the boys bicker about giving one of them the body. Telling him if he won’t give it to you they’ll happily comply.

“If my attitude means so much to you why don’t yo-“

Halfway through your sentence Jake turned around and gave you a death glare. His eyes threatened you not to talk.

“If I really piss you off…” you purred. You toss the sheets off yourself, crawling on the bed and sitting on your knees as you reach the end of the bed “Why are you hard?”

You chuckle softly as his eyebrows narrow. He walks up to you at a painfully slow pace, his hand reaching out to hold your cheek as he ran his thumb down your lips.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish muñeca” he hums. His eyes try their best to stay on your face. Your soft thighs glowed slightly as the moon lit up the room with the softest glow.

“Or what?” You purr, your eyes staring up at him in admiration as your lips spread and take his thumb into your mouth.

A hum vibrates through you as you roll your tongue over the base of his thumb. His eyes grew dark as you smiled up at him with his thumb between your lips.

Within seconds you were on your back, Jake was hovering over you with need in his eyes. His hands ran up your body, tossing Steven's sweatshirt off of you as he buried himself between your neck.

His needy moans made you whine as he rocked himself onto your soaked cunt. His name spilled from your mouth as he sucked bruises onto your neck.

“Tal vez necesito enseñarte cómo comportar”

He lifts himself slightly, taking in your flushed complexion and plump lips before he wrapped your legs around his waist.

Your hands tangled into his damp hair, pulling him deeper into a kiss as both of you fought for dominance.

His hand snaked around your throat, curving into a v as he pressed onto the sides of your throat. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as you felt your breath hitch.

You smiled at the way he knew exactly how to choke you, after all, he probably does this a lot in his line of work.

You let him take control, fully aware that one had to lose to take control and it certainly wouldn’t be him.

“Good girl” he cockily hums onto your cheek. “Think I’ll test this out for myself” he cooed as he backed off your body.

His hands snaked up onto the back of your thighs, spreading you wide open for him to take a look at what was his.

He salivated at the sight of your slick-filled folds, the puffy swollen skin making him moan. He was debating whether or not to use the vibrator but as soon as he saw you spread out for him he didn’t have a second thought about it.

You were a mess, chest rising heavily and your fingers dug into the sheets as you watched him lower himself between your legs. He made sure to never break eye contact with you as he did so.

“What were you thinking about while playing with yourself muñeca? Of me eating this pretty pussy out? Or maybe me fucking that attitude out? Tell me” he purred.

You felt like you could cum just by his words, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you tried to get the words out.

He smacked your thigh harshly “talk”

“I- I as thinking o-“ You cut yourself off mid-sentence as the thought of pissing him off more came to your mind. You tried to hide the smile as you answered “I was thinking of Marc…” you whined in a shaky tone.

“Mmmh” he nodded. He knew what you were doing, and he sure did enjoy it. “Really? Marc? Maybe I should let him take care of you then” he shrugged as he looked into the mirror.

“NO no- no you Jake you” you almost yelled. Your eyes widened as you saw him nod at the mirror. “But you just said you were thinking of Marc sweets? I wouldn’t want to take you away from him” he sighed.

You can feel the pride slip away from you as you debated what to say. You were fully aware he knew it was a lie, but if you kept up the act he would definitely let Marc take control.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Marc, you just wanted to finally have Jake for yourself. He rarely ever fronted during sex which made this feel like it would be the last if you kept the brat act up.

“Huh?” He hissed. His hand slapped your thigh again as you buried your face into the pillow. “I lied…” you whispered. You knew Marc would be pissed at this, you dug yourself into a hole.

“Can’t hear you” Jake mocked. “I lied,” you said louder. An amused smile grew on his face “You lied? Why is that?”

“I- I don’t know”

“Another lie” he sighed. His lips kissed the insides of your thighs. Teasing you as he got closer to your pussy “So many lies coming out of you I think you need to learn some manners don’t you think?”

“Marc says you should, he’s not happy with this” Jake chuckles in accomplishment. As you were about to speak Jake cut you off “I suggest the next words are chosen wisely”

“I’m sorry” you whined, pleading with him to touch you as he looked at you with admiration and need. “Tell me the truth, what were you thinking of?”

You hated him, you knew he was fully aware that he was the one you were moaning for. He just wanted you to admit it, he wanted the boys to know it.

They knew you didn’t favor any of them over each other, they just hated the thought that it wasn’t their name being moaned out. Steven would’ve been whining and bickering if it was Marc who had been the one you thought of, and the same way around with Marc.

“You”

Your voice was shaky and ragged as he held onto you, his denim jeans rubbing against the sheets for friction. “Me? Really? What was I doing to you princesa?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at the number of questions. You jumped at the sudden harsh slap on your face as Jake pulled himself up and held your face up to his “What’d I say about the attitude?” He hissed.

“I’m sorry” you moaned. Your arms were piercing through his long sleeve as you looked up at him “Now tell me…. What was I doing to you for you to be that wet? Saw how left that toy, covered in cum”

You just wanted him to lose his patience and fuck you full, but you knew by now that Jake won’t give you any sort of satisfaction if you didn’t have patience. He waited so long for this to happen he didn’t mind waiting a little longer just to drive you crazy.

“I- I was thinking of you between my legs, eating me out while you fucked me with your fingers”

Jake groaned at your words, smiling down at you before pressing a soft wet kiss onto your lips “Eating you out huh? Like this?” He cooed.

He lowered himself between your legs within seconds. “Fuck” you panted out shakily as he wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you pinned down.

“How did I start muñeca? Fingers first or mouth first?”

You couldn’t think straight, how was it that he hasn’t even touched you once, and you're already a complete fucking mess.

“Fingers”

You looked down to see him already staring up at you before throwing a cocky wink up at you as he nodded. He never looked away from you as he rubbed two fingers onto your folds, dipping them in softly as he spread your folds apart and teased you with each of his movements.

“Jake… f- fuck” you cried out as he pushed his fingers inside you. His thick fingers filled you perfectly as he pumped in and out of you slowly.

His eyes follow his fingers, and his cock gets harder as he watched his fingers disappear into you. You clenched around him needly as he watched your slick run down your hole.

He couldn’t help but lean down and clean it up before it went to waste. Your body jerked at the feeling of his tongue sliding down your cunt. Your hips jolted forward as he moaned onto you.

It was like a switch flipped inside Jake as soon as he tasted you, he didn’t give a shit about teasing anymore. He buried his face into your pussy, lapping hungrily as he felt you making a mess out of yourself.

He swore this was the best thing he’s ever experienced, his fingers pumping in and out of you as he sucked and slurped your pussy like a man deprived of food.

He removed his fingers, sucking them clean quickly before burying his face back into you. Your hands ran through his hair, massaging and slightly pulling his brown messy locks as he kept you pinned onto the bed.

Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his tongue flicking and circling your clit. The slight facial hair growing on his face rubbed against your thighs as he held them still.

You were shaking, squirming under him as he threatened you with a groan. “Ja- Jake fu-“ You were crying out his name, tugging at his curls as you felt the knot in your stomach start to form.

You tried your best to stay still but your body moved on its own. Kicking and squirming as clenched around nothing, your clit aching on his tongue as you leaked onto the sheets.

Your mind was foggy, dazed with pleasure as he continues to lap at your puffy folds. Your eyes rolled back as soon as you looked between your thighs, the sight of Jake bobbing and swaying his head as he ate you out was a sight to see.

He pulled back slowly, his mouth covered in slick as he licked his lips clean. His fingers cleaned up the rest of the mess on his face, licking them clean with a low hum.

You lay there with your legs spread, your thighs soaked, and pussy throbbing post-orgasm. “So quiet for someone with such a big mouth” Jake cooed.

He dropped onto your chest, kissing you hungrily as he rubbed slow circles onto your hips. You smiled into his lips, kissing him lovingly as one of his fingers ran up to soothe your cheek.

Your hands traveled down to his belt, fiddling with the metal before he gripped your wrist. “Not right now princesa, let me take care of you” Jake reassured.

You were surprised when he got up from the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds then came out with a warm cloth to clean you up.

“But I wanna take care of you” you whined. Trying to close your legs in protest, he chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Trust me, you’ll get many chances too. But right now rest okay? You’re tired, I can tell muñeca. It’s ok” he nods.

You look at him unconvinced as you could still see the painfully hard bulge through his jeans

“If you want to take care of me, let’s lay in bed and get some rest ok? Do that for me?” Jake smiled.

Your heart warmed at his soft smile. You nodded in compliance as he threw you one of his shirts and changed into something more comfortable.

“Don’t worry about me, you can make it up to me tomorrow”

Translations:

Que vista - what a sight

No me gustan las mentirosas - I don’t like liars

Muñeca - doll

Tal vez necesito enseñarte cómo comportar - maybe I should teach you how to behave

#jake x reader #jake smut #jake lockely x you #jake lockely smut #moon knight #moon knight smut #marvel smut #smut #jake lockley

[lunalockley]

The Limo Driver (part two)

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Like, a lot. Can Jake on his knees count as a warning?

Summary: It's night, it's raining and reader just wants to sleep, until she doesn't anymore.

Words: 7700+

Notes: Sooooo, I'm sorry, it took me a little longer than planned but here it is, I really hope you like it. And thank you all so much for your comments, always brighten my day.

Specially dedicated to my dearest moon emoji anon who made me feel really good about this one <3

Masterlist

gif credit

So… you’ve been thinking about it. Well, you can’t stop. Of course you can’t. He kissed you once and you spent six months half in lov—Ok, no. Wait, what? No. Half hooked up on him you mean. Three-quarters stupid. Completely insane. But not half in that. No.

Uh, whatever. It’s only been a day, a couple of hours. It’s way too recent. So it’s normal for your mind to keep on spinning the matter. And the eyes, and the voice, and the fingers. It’s driving you crazy, to be honest. The feel of them on your throat, on your hips, on your mouth… inside of you. You barely slept last night, your mind keeps taking you back through every fucking second of it without even trying. And then you can almost hear his voice calling you preciosa in that way he does and everything starts to heat up. That good, nice heat that’s so easy to get lost on.

But there’s also the bad one. The focalized heat that sets upon your chest like a weight is pressing down on you, making breathing a little bit harder. That’s the one you felt when you walked out last night. And you’ve been feeling it every time you think about what you said, and what he didn’t. That’s the part you’re trying to avoid. Yet it comes to mind anyways. It’s pretty fucking unfair.

And it’s pretty fucking ridiculous too because how come that after all that has happened, all the time you two have shared, all the things he has done you still can’t… figure him out? It doesn’t make any sense. How does someone that’s so incredibly hermetic make you feel you can read him just by looking him in the eyes when you actually don’t know anything about him at all? Does he do it on purpose? Is it a calculated move or is he somehow unable to—

—And you’re doing it again. Thinking about it non-stop. You called in sick needing a night away from the restaurant, from Jake’s stupid chair and that stupid bathroom that has been giving you palpitations just by the thought of going in and this is how you spend it. You had planned to cook a nice dinner, watch a movie, water your barely-alive plants, do a beginner's yoga class on Youtube, and maybe even finish reading that book that has been dusting on your nightstand. But no, here you are. Already in pajamas, all you’ve done (besides eating yesterday’s leftovers) is sit on the couch contemplating how time passes with the rain and Viejita’s soft meowing in the background. Is procrastination the root of all your problems? Maybe it is.

Or maybe it’s just time to get up and do what you do best: sleep. Give your body the rest your mind refuses to get. You impulse yourself out of the couch to go and take Viejita with you. Cuddling with her makes it all better. No more stupid Jake thinking. You let your ear guide you, she’s right next to the window. She had never complained about the rain before and as she feels you getting closer she even starts scratching the glass.

“Hey, baby, It’s just a little rain,” you mutter, petting her and trying to calm her down until you rest your eyes on what she is staring at down the street.

What the f—He can’t just—There’s no fucking way.

You’re not sure. You just live on the third floor but it’s dark outside. The street light barely lights anything at all. And the rain makes it even harder to see. Yet the outline of the limousine is clearly visible, and so is the figure leaning against it. But it can’t be. You’ve always thought Jake is unusual in every little thing he does but this? He wouldn’t be crazy enough to be waiting under the rain without a fucking umbrella and without even ringing the bell to your apartment, just expecting somehow you knew he would be there, right? That would be insane. It must be a weird coincidence. Some other limo driver who's waiting for someone else here… in this neighborhood? Weird, yet not impossible.

But then he looks up straight at your window and your heart jumps inside your chest as you instinctively hurry back into the shadows, where he can’t see you.

Fuck, it is him.

What the fuck? He knows your apartment is on the third floor, you’ve told him. You’ve told him the number. You’ve told him everything, for fuck’s sake. It's not like you want him to come up to your house knocking on the door in the middle of the night but what is he doing? At this point, you’re sure he purposefully finds the way to do the least expected, most incomprehensible thing in every fucking little thing he does. It must be his life’s motto: “No matter what, always find a way to stress the shit out of the people in my life”.

He’s an idiot, there’s no doubt of it. The thing is: are you an idiot? Well, yeah. You just saw him outside your place and your heart is already a beat away from a fucking heart attack. But you should try not to be an idiot anymore. You shouldn't go down. Make it clear you said it’s over for good. He definitely saw you, he would get it, and then… and then he would leave. Forever. Yeah, that’s what you should do.

But… goodbyes are a good thing too, right? 

Closure and all that stuff. Talk things out, even if it sounds unlikely with someone like Jake. You can give it a chance. A… friendly goodbye. Ok, yeah. Sounds good. And it is the right thing in this type of situation, grown-up shit. A goodbye, that’s all.

You take one last look at the street just in case you’ve lost your mind and you’ve imagined the whole thing, but he’s still right there. Arms crossed, leaning against the limo and probably soaking fuking wet.

“Your dad’s an idiot, Viejita,” you say to the little black beast before taking her in your arms to leave her on her favorite cushion on the sofa. She settles down, pleased and exhausted as if she's accomplished a hard job.

You grab your keys next to the mirror at the entrance. 

Just a goodbye.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The bone-chilling air hits you as soon as you step out of the building but seeing him is what makes you stop dead in your tracks for a second. You couldn’t see it up from your floor but he’s wearing his usual type of clothes, not the casual ones that somehow felt so out of place on him yesterday. Now the familiarity of the white shirt, the jacket, and the hat gives you a naive sense of comfort you try to dismiss away. As if this one were more of your Jake than it was yesterday. Stupid, he’s not more of anything and it’s just clothes.

A white shirt, a jacket, and a hat that are drenched, by the way. Which reminds you—

“What the fuck are you doing in the rain? Are you insane?”

Instead of answering he just looks at you and opens the limo’s door. Silently asking you to get in.

Ok, well…. you didn't think this through. You only thought about coming down, not actually getting into his car. But, you guess… there’s no other option. You came here to say your friendly goodbye, after all. Can’t do it in the rain, just like that. And a veil of water drops is already setting in your clothes, you can feel some of the fabric clanging into your body. Another thing you didn’t think through is the worn-out sweatpants you came out with, the old shirt that has somehow become a pajama shirt, and your lack of a bra underneath.

Fuck it.

When you slide into the car you notice how spacious the limousine is yet it surprises you how it does not seem to be room for many people. There are only two rows of red leather seats facing each other. So much space for so few passengers. In order to be more private and luxurious, you guess. It makes you think about the people he drives for. Might he be just as serious and inaccessible as you’ve seen him be with basically everyone else? Or might he show his weird uncharismatic charisma as he has done with you? The latter doesn’t sound so good, for some reason.

You stop nosing around when you feel him sitting next to you a little bit closer than the spacious seat needs. You were right. He's drenched and most likely ruining the luxurious leather of the luxurious car, but he doesn't seem to care as he turns his whole body and attention towards you.

“Is it every day or once every six months with you? No in-betweens?” You blurt out, cornered by the closeness of his body.

Fuck, friendly goodbye. Friendly.

“Sorry. I take that back,” you mumble, thinking your next words before you pronounce them this time. “Why didn’t you ring the bell to my apartment?”

“It’s late. I saw the lights on but thought you might have fallen asleep. Didn’t want to disturb you. You work too much, preciosa,” he answers calmly, his voice softer than you ever heard before. Not in a submissive way but in a disarmingly appeasing tone as if he had come here disarmed, without any shields. Exactly the opposite of how you feel right now. You move back in the seat trying to get as far as you can get in the restricted space. Soft raspy melting voices shouldn’t cause claustrophobia.

“And if I had been sleeping what would you have done? Wait till I wake up tomorrow?” You throw it out half as a joke, but immediately you realize—

He doesn’t even have to answer to know that’s the truth. He had come here to see you and wouldn’t have left until he did.

“Do you always get what you want? Is that how things work for you?”

“If things worked out for me this wouldn’t be the first time I see you outside work,” he says replies, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. And to your disbelief, he puts it back with a sigh like he didn't even realize the damn thing is soaking fucking wet just like the rest of his clothes are. He should take it all off before he catches a cold. Ha, go on. Keep thinking of him without his clothes on. Good idea. “Speaking of which, you know what am I thinking?”

“Are you kidding me?” You snort, turning towards him, as shocked by your train of thought as by the audacity of his question. “I never know what you’re thinking,” you whisper, taken aback by the fact that he still doesn’t understand how little you understand him. At all. That’s the whole point here.

“That’s weird, I’ve always felt you can see right through me,” he mutters, frowning at you as if you had any fault in that absurd idea. Stupid Jake. His voice sounds sincere but you chose not to even give it a second thought, can’t allow yourself that right now. Not with the purpose you came here for.

So you cross your arms and frown back at him, refusing to answer anything at all. But he mirrors you, crossing his arms and resting his back against the seat.

God, this is so stupid. You’re so mad at him but can’t help smiling when the stare competition last a little too long. It’s infuriating. And so ridiculous. You came here to say goodbye, why are you smiling? 

“What are you thinking?” You ask, defeated.

A crooked smile forms on his lips in victory, but he quickly brushes away with his thumb.

“I’m thinking you look pretty fucking good here like this,” he says taking a look at your body, his eyes somehow soft and dark on equal parts. You try to ignore the effect his tone produces under your skin.

“In pajamas on your limousine?”

“Yeah, it’s a sight,” he breathes lowly, uncrossing his arms and getting a little bit closer. You can’t take it.

“Stop—don't do that, please.”

He waits for you to continue.

“That thing you do,” you explain reluctantly. “You make it sound like you’re joking but it feels like you are telling the truth. It’s confusing. Tell me what you are really thinking for once.”

“I’m telling you in every way I know.”

The words are out of his mouth like a caress and the way he’s—No, no, no. Focus. He’s flirting his way out. Get to the point. 

“So? Did you come here to say goodbye?”

“Why would I say goodbye?” He retorts like you had asked him the most bizarre question possible.

“Because we are not seeing each other again, I told you it’s over.”

“Oh, it’s over? So what are you doing here?”

“Would you have left if I didn’t come down? I’m saving you from pneumonia. You’re welcome.”

He shakes his head, a reproachful gleam in his eyes but then he exhales and lets it go. He looks out the window for a moment and then back at you. Outside, the rain pounds harder.

“I came to say that I’m… I’m sorry”

“Oh, that’s a first. What for?”

You cross your legs and he follows the movement. Then he shifts in his seat once more, trying to find comfort.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t—That I left without saying anything—I… I just disappeared. I’m sorry. I understand why you’re angry. If it had been you I would’ve—I’m sorry.”

He’s struggling so much one would think this is the first time he apologizes for something in his life. It cracks your walls a little bit, but still—

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just had to go and then I couldn’t come back.”

“How so?”

“I… I’m not able to control my time as I used to, just when is necessary.”

Oh. You weren’t important enough to come and let you know he was going to disappear for six fucking months.

“Yeah I get that, you didn’t need to be here,” you grunt moving to get out of the car but he moves from his seat, catching your hand before you even get to touch the handle. 

“Let me go, you asshole!”

You try to push him back but in half a second he’s resting his knees on the floor as his hands take yours on a soft grip at each side of your hips. He’s caging you between his body and the seat. And even when your body keeps attempting to get out of the car, the intense heat that radiates out of his body makes you wonder how his wet clothes aren’t fucking steaming.

“Wait, wait—hey, wait, stop,” he says soothingly, his voice not a bit altered by the force with which you are trying to push him. His left-hand find that soft spot on the side of your neck, drawing your attention to his dark eyes. You lose a little bit of your strength. “Listen to me. You’re angry, I know. Take it out on me. You’ll feel better.”

What?

Your heartbeat buzzes in your ears and you feel a little lightheaded. This is the first time he’s looking up to you instead of the other way around. Maybe that's what causes that slight desperate effect in his deep brown eyes, the look that the last speaker of an extinguished language would have. Condemned to never truly communicate with anyone else. And the way he looks kneeled in front of you, surrounded, as if he would let you do anything to him right now. Take it out on me, he said. Is he expecting you to hit him or something?

“That’s not how things work, Jake. I’m not gonna turn you into my… human stress relief ball. You just told me you don’t need this. And I wanna make that call too. So, that’s it. You’re an idiot but we’re good. Now move and let me go. It’s ok, it’s over just like I–”

“No, it’s not. Stop that,” he says all frown and serious, and then a little softer.  “And that’s not what I meant. But let me apologize. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Then the rest. Let me have you happy and relaxed first.” 

“What?—That’s n-not—We should talk”

“Oh, so you came here to talk not to say goodbye?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry,” he says in an innocent tone like he regrets it but he's actually smiling, the widest smile you've ever seen on him yet. A happy smile. The desperate glimmer turned into triumph. He knows you just gave in, he knows he’s won this one. God, you hate him. Stupid Jake.

“Don’t—” take off my slipper, you try to say. But he’s already taking the other one. You really didn’t think about your outfit at all before walking out of your apartment tonight. Whatever. Focus. “What did you mean then, explain it to me. You gotta give me something here because I don’t want to do this anymore, Jake. Not like this.”

He holds your eyes for a moment and then he leans forward, resting his forehead against your knee. One hand slowly making his way up over your calve, the other rolling up the fabric to expose the skin. It takes him a minute to speak again.

“I… I don’t have control over—I don’t really have a—I just do what needs to be done. That’s the purpose of me. That’s all I do. I prevent things from happening and if they happen I resolve them. I… survive, I guess. And this is how it’s been for as long as I can remember. It’s ok—it was, it was ok. It was until one night instead of going to a shitty bar like I always do I decide for some fucking reason to go into that damn 24/7 breakfast and you happened. I didn’t like it, at first, because I knew right there that it wasn’t going to be enough. I already wanted more. I tried to stop it but I kept going and going. You were always there. Lighting things up. Of course, I kept wanting more. It’s never enough”.

While he was speaking his fingertips were gently caressing your calf, his cheek word by word tracing the side of your leg, seeking the reassurance feeling of skin against skin but as soon as the last sentence is pronounced his mouth starts giving open mouth kisses to every inch of uncovered skin it finds on its way and you’re scared your heart may stop working it all. It’s the feel of his tongue in that sensitive spot in the back of your knee, his left hand slowly exploring the length of your thigh but mostly his words and that impenetrable wall finally beginning to break down.

You weren’t expecting this. You thought he was going to come up with a half-true half-joke excuse that you were going to resist not believing in. And then get the courage to walk away just like you had planned. But this is different. You know this is different. You know he meant it. You know for the way he was so evidently struggling to find the right words, the hoarseness on every one of them as if his body were still trying to keep them locked deep inside. This is him. This is what you’ve been asking for. But still—

“The thing is you’re changing things for me, preciosa. I know I’m not made for this. I’m fucked up, I am. I’m not good. And on top of that, there’s not much I can offer you. I’ve nothing. And I can’t even take care of a damn cat without having it all fall over. I’m not even close to being good enough for you. You deserve better, you do—but I’m still here… if you want me. And even if you don’t, I would still be here, waiting.”

It’s raining properly now, hammering on the roof of the limousine. The furious rhythm of hundreds of drops almost synchronized with the rapid beat of your heart. His thumb hooked over the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling until your hip is exposed. Your breath caught in your throat.

“You deserve better but I’m selfish now. If anything is your fault, you turned me into this. I want you for my own,” he mutters, leaning in to kiss the skin of your lower stomach. You can’t help but gasp at the contact, he’s barely touched you and you already can feel the wetness dripping out of you. “Will you let me have you?”

He’s looking you straight into your eyes now, he hadn’t done it since he started speaking, and you can see how much he just gave you. You’ve learned to know him, somehow. Not in the way one learns to read deciphering signs on a page but in the way our eyes become accustomed to darkness after some time. Groping and stumbling you’ve learned some parts of him, his outline. That’s how you know he’s asking for way more than he’s letting on. You have the feeling that saying yes to him involves a lot more than saying yes to somebody else. The feeling that whatever it is he’s asking from you might consume you and leave you heartbroken afterward. But that’s not the hold-up.

The thing is, you want more, you want to see him in full light. You want him for your own too. But you need to understand him. Fully. You won't give yourself up without having him first. 

“You want me to beg? I’ll beg if you want me to, but then I’ll be the one taking it out on you later,” he threats when you don’t answer for a while, all teasing voice and mischief glimmer, he’s back to the playful Jake you know so well. A little too long of silence and his defenses go up again.

You don’t think he’ll keep spilling truths voluntarily but now that you’ve heard some of them you want more. You’ve become addicted. You need more. But how?

And how are you supposed to think while he keeps playing with the waistband of your pants? Fuck, unless—He just acted on your terms, revealing himself just like you’ve asked him to. Now is your turn. You probably will get immediately caught up on it, but you can try.

You need to play it his way then. 

He sees the change on your face and a spellbound gleam forms in his eyes.

“Show me how it would feel,” you whisper and you don’t need to say it twice.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth the sweatpants are out of your legs. Once he has you only in your t-shirt and your panties he leans back a little bit observing you from head to toe, lingering his eyes on yours, on the contour of your hardened nipples and the wet patch of your panties, as if he wanted to burn the image in his memory, the pervert. Well, you can’t judge, you are the same. Admiring how the white wet shirt clings to his torso, wrapping him like hard candy. You may as well lick him—fuck, focus. Focus.

When he starts to slowly take off your panties you manage to find your voice again.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you undress me on the street.”

“You’re letting me undress you in my car, it’s hot. And its got tinted glasses, and it’s dark outside and you’re with me, bonita,” he answers absently, focused on the delicate movement of the silky material as it slides down your legs. You can't mock him at the implication that you're safe with him though, you know it's true. You’ve felt it from the first day.

Once your panties reach your ankles he carefully removes them to put them in the pocket of his pants. Again, pervert. You ignore the need to clench your thighs together at the gesture and decide to tease him about it. He deserves it. And it’s what has worked the best so far. Pushing his buttons it’s what had you moaning in the fucking bathroom of your workplace anyways.

“To remember me?” You ask as innocently as you can.

But he’s done with it. He pins you with his gaze, raising a thick eyebrow at you.

“Why would I need reminding, exactly?”

“Because this is the last time.”

“What did I just say? Stop that. Don’t make me say it again. You know it’s not enough, preciosa. You know it.” His lips back to your legs, his voice still annoyed but so soft you don’t think you hear right: “Will never be.”

For the sake of your own heart, you rather believe you misheard.

He opens your legs a little bit further and then—

“Fuck, baby.” He sounds so wrecked, you feel weak. You were supposed to do something, what was it? “Voy a despertar soñándote por el resto de mi puta vida.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t understand. And tell me… tell me more about yourself first, please.”

“There’s not much to tell. And I’d like to do something else with my tongue right now.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“I mean, if I could record this right n—”

“Jake.”

“Whichever you’d like to watch with me, bonita.”

“You drive for a living?”

“That’s how I earn some money, yeah. Stop torturing me.”

“But you’re not just a driver, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And is that…dangerous?”

“Not to you. I promise”

“Are you in danger?”

“I’m in danger of dying as a thirsty man here.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lockley. Come on, baby, don't make me go crazier than I already am.”

“Lockley… Jake Lockley.” That catches his attention back to your mouth for a second. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

“This,” he says sliding you effortlessly to the edge of the seat. You feel his breath near your core and you know you’re losing it. Shit, why were you doing this? Why are you delaying it when you want it so badly? Oh, right, you—

“Jake, wait,” you breathe. “I need more. I need to understand.”

“Then pay attention, preciosa.”

His mouth finds your inner thigh and he’s so close. So close. You won’t hold back anymore. You can’t. Your hand finds his shoulder just to hold onto something but fuck. He’s still in his wet clothes. He can’t stay like this. You gather the little willpower you have left to push him back. You expect some sort of resistance but he moves back with no effort on your part. Take it out on me, is this what he meant?

The way he raises his gaze is enough to set your blood on fire. He looks at you as if he’s about to say fuck it all and push you back to have his way with you mixed with genuine curiosity about what are you going to do next. Submission hanging by a thread.

“Take off your jacket.”

He holds your gaze for a moment and then he does it. Fuck, the power trip you're feeling right now. It feels pretty fucking good having him listening to you like that. More.

“Now your shirt.”

He sighs and begins to unbutton it, somehow amused by how much you're pushing it. Did he just unblock a new kink for you?

Once the shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor of the limo you lean forward to take off his hat. Is soaking wet just like his hair is underneath. And of course, you can’t resist. You take a moment to run a hand through his curls all the way down to his nape until your hand is resting on his shoulder again. He looks so fucking hot like this. You bite the urge to confess it, instead, you lean back and open your legs a little further, an invitation.

“You can go on, now.”

The little smile he’s trying to bite back makes your stomach flutter. You decide to tease him a little bit more.

“I mean, if you don’t want to…” you concede, beginning to close your legs but you barely get to move an inch before he dives right in and—

Fucking heaven.

You loudly gasp at the feeling of the wet heat of his mouth dragging over the folds of your pussy, his groan sending shivers from your core through your whole body. Fuck, it’s too good. It’s too good. When his tongue swirls around your clit your brain short-circuits having at the same the time the urge to push him away and push him impossibly closer. As your hand finds his curls you realize your body has chosen the latter. The movement pleases him, you can feel his smile against you.

“So fucking good,” he mutters, barely pulling back as you feel the movement of his lips with each word. Your hips move forward anyway, chasing the delicious contact.

Fuck, you’re already on the edge. His mouth is giving you everything without holding anything back. Fixed on wreck you from the beginning, desire running through your abdomen.

“Oh, fuck. Jake, I–I’m gonna—”

“Eyes on me, preciosa.” Is all he says but your mind is gone, every cell in your body focused on the sweet hot pleasure that’s rushing to you core. Your head falls back against the seat as the shocks of ecstasy flow through you, your whines chanting his name, your hand holding thigh to his hair, your cunt clenching hard around nothing—his mouth not leaving you for a second, drowning in you.

When your legs twtich a little too much one hand holds your hips down hard into the seat to ensure you keep still but he’s not stopping, he’s—

He’s—

Two long, thick fingers slid in and out of you as Jake’s mouth goes up, focusing on your swollen clit, licking and sucking and his eyes—

Fuck, you can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

His gaze is so deep and strong, melting your fucking bones. You’ve never been seen like that, never.

“Keep your eyes on me or I’ll keep going until you let me see.”

You can’t help but clench at his words, a whine escaping your lips. He feels it.

“Mmm, would you like that?”

It’s too much, too intense. The free fall never stops inside of you. And you can’t even move away from it. You just have to take it the way he wants to.

His tongue swirls, his fingers curl and you completely lose yourself in the pleasure ripping you from the inside. Your sense of gravity changes to where his wet hot mouth keeps taking everything you have to give. His fierce brown eyes the only thing keeping you grounded.

“That’s it. Look at you, so fucking pretty baby,” Jake says in that dark rich voice you love so much, and though he keeps praising you you’re too gone to even hear anymore. All you can do is lay back against the seat of his limo until your heart stops booming in your ears and air reintegrates into your lungs again.

When feeling comes back to your numb body you find one of his hands massaging the back of your neck, the other moving from your collarbone towards that spot that keeps beating strong under his touch. He keeps his warm palm right there in your heart and fuck, he’s still kneeling in front of you, looking at you with Am I forgiven eyes and you know this is not healthy, this is not how things should be, yet all you want to do is to close your own eyes because you know they’re answering him yes, yes you are. Instead, you lower your head to brush your lips into his, an invitation that makes his body go so pliant on you when you grab him and take him up with you, maneuvering him until you’re on his lap and you can finally kiss him like you’ve wanted since the moment you met him.

That first kiss six months ago was tentative and stiff, it felt like he was trying to stop himself but his body wouldn’t respond to his rational wishes, like his mouth was moving against all his fucking will. Yesterday’s kisses were dark and possessive, every movement of his tongue deliberately planned to have you whining at his mercy.

This one is completely different. This time it’s you who’s leading the way. This time it’s you who’s showing him that the despair that’s so evident in the glimmer of his eyes is the same that’s hidden deep down in your chest. And you know, you know, that the moan that sips out of him when you cradle each side of his face and your tongue clashes into his is because he understands what your body is saying to him. He knows.

And it may be minutes or hours, all you’re conscious of is the constant pattering of the rain against the roof of the car, your own taste in his mouth, the way he pushes you closer every time you bite his lower lip, his fingers under your t-shirt caressing the small of your back, tracing your ribs and digging in your hips, the warmth of his skin, the hard muscle underneath, his damp curls when you run your nails through his head, those dark sounds that come out of his throat when you rock against the bulge inside his pants, the slow, steady bone-melting rhythm that completely intoxicates you until you need more, more, more.

And you know he does too.

He takes off your shirt in one swift motion. You feel something icy at the center of your collarbone but you don’t even have time to process it because suddenly your breast is in his hot wet mouth and his teeth are gently nipping the flesh there and then his tongue swirls against your nipple and—

You need—you’re overwhelmed by the need to have him as delirious as he has you right now.

You push him back into the seat and he’s immediately calling you preciosa and complaining but you are already kissing him, shutting him up, and undoing the zipper of his pants. He growls in your mouth when you palm the outline of his cock over his underwear, your walls clench hard in anticipation. And then he shivers when you slowly run your nails throughout his length over the fabric and you know you’re fucked. You will crave this feeling for the rest of your life.  The feeling of having Jake Lockley trembling with pleasure underneath you. An instant addiction.

You take his hard cock out and you and you don't even give him time to pull his pants out or take them off before you’re rubbing your slit against his length. Utterly and unashamedly desperate.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters in your mouth, his tight and raspy voice making you throb in need, his muscles tense under your hands. “Feels soo good, doesn’t it? This is how it will feel like, everything, every fucking time.”

He pushes back a little to look at you. You know he’s talking about what you answered when he asked to have you. Show me how it would feel. You know this is his way to push for an answer. A confirmation that you’re his. But instead of trying to find those words hidden somewhere in your chest you get lost in his deep brown eyes and you realize that all those moments when he looked at you like he wanted to crawl under your skin your eyes must have looked at him just the same way.

“Will you let me have you?” The question leaves your lips this time, yet no words come out of his mouth but a breathless choked sound as if you’ve punched him in the gut. Instead, he just grabs the side of your neck and glares at you with something profound that could be anger or devotion, or maybe both. And then he’s kissing you, his tongue fighting yours, how dare you is saying. A hand on your hip lifts you up enough so that he can line himself up at your entrance and just when you begin to feel that pressure—

“If we are doing this you’re not allowed to leave again without warning, Ok? It’s cruel,” you blurt out without thinking, your helpless heart rising to the surface, exposing itself despite your efforts.

“Ok,” he answers, his voice torn and low, as solemnly as he can with your cunt torturously dripping the length of his cock. You look down, ready to feel him inside but he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “And you’re not allowed to say you hate me. Ever again. I mean it. Ok?”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll fuck your pretty little brains out until I have you begging me to stop but I won’t until I’m sure you’ve completely forgotten the damn fucking word. Ok?” He pulls at your hair for emphasis and you have to fight down the moan that threatens to leave your throat with the gesture.

“Ok,” you answer out of breath, obediently.

“Good,” he praises, soothing your scalp with his fingertips. Then, cheeky again. “What am I allowed to?”

“You’re allowed to ring the bell to my apartment, for once.” You laugh but then—

He holds your hips as he slowly begins to slide his cock in, gently and steadily but fuck.

Holy fuck.

You’re so wet there’s barely any resistance bet he’s long and thick and the stretch feels like he’s gonna break you in half. The strong grip of your hands on his shoulders makes him stop before he can go any further.

“You’ll get used to me,” he gasps in your temple. “Fuck, such a tight fucking pussy, baby. But I’ll make you get used to me. All of you.”

“Shut up and just keep going, for fuck’s sake”

“Relax on me, preciosa. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers caressing every inch of skin he can find, his tongue licking the pulse in your neck. “Relax…Mmm, that’s it. Yeah, like that.”

It takes a little.  The expert grip on your hips makes you sink into him so, so slowly every inch of him steals a whine out of you but you know it’s driving him fucking crazy too. He’s breathing hard, the muscles in his abdomen jump at the slightest shift of your hips, and a faint film of sweat appears on his neck. It makes you wanna lick him. But you get distracted by how good and how deep it feels and how his hands move from your hips to a playful hold on your throat, until they fall flat on the seat.

“You can go on, now,” he returns your words, a cheeky little grim forming in the corner of his lips as he leans back on the seat. Leaving you to it. Your heart swells at the wrecked and joyful gleam of his eyes. 

You try to say something smart and snarky at him but his cock is buried deep inside of you and you can’t think of anything else, to be honest. You lift yourself up and down, tentatively, the burning so good it has so gasping.

“Feels good, baby? Feels so right, doesn’t it? You know why it feels so right, don’t you? You understand it.”

You pick up your pace, oblivious of his words, trying to suppress the hidden emotion behind every roll of your hips. You don’t want to hear those words, you don’t need to. Not now. But he keeps going—

“You have no idea all the times a woke up this,” he breathes, his hands finding your hips again. Unable to stay away for too long. “Preciosa lurking me with her smart mouth and her —fuck— her pretty smile. Letting me punish her for being too good for me.”

He makes you clench hard around him. You can’t help it. It’s his words, the idea. 

“Mmm, you’d like that. I’d like that too. I could spank you for every time you wouldn’t leave my fucking head, for distracting me,” he growls grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it. “How red would your ass be then, huh?”

His hand goes up to hold your hip again. And now he’s thrusting into you. Reaching places you couldn’t reach yourself, so fucking deep. 

“I could edge you to tears for doing this to me.” The pad of his thumb finds your clit and you whine his name in response. The shots of ecstasy are growing fast and intense. You’re gasping, he’s breathing hard. And to your surprise, he keeps talking. “I could have you screaming for—for—”

Before he was forcing himself to get the truth out, struggling to answer your questions with honesty. But now it’s flowing out of him, a little bit of truth with every thrust of his hips. Every word sticking deep into your heart.

“Fuck, I missed you… my whole body felt it even—even when I wasn't myself.”

God, you can’t even process each sensation. And his scent is concentrated in that soft spot on the side of his neck, it makes you dizzy. You’re so out of yourself, so overflowed with sensations and desire, that you only notice you’re running your tongue down the skin of his throat when growls and holds you impossibly closer, just like you wanted.

Is too much. Everything. This is—you’ve never felt anything like this before. Like the whole ground is disappearing under you. All you can do is hold onto Jake, one hand on his shoulder the other on his nape, your face buried in his neck. But he’s asking you something, his voice softer than before.

“Do you understand?”

But you’re too lost on it. You can’t—Your movements start to grow impatient, fast, and erratic. The hot melting pleasure is close once more. But not close enough.

“Preciosa, answer me.”

You keep clinging to him, refusing to do anything but chase the feeling. You’re almost there, almost there, you’re—

You’re suddenly on your back, his body hovering over yours, both of your hands taken behind you, arching you and maintaining you exposed. Making it impossible to hide away. His hand is on the side of your neck, his eyes piercing through you. He’s expecting the same sincerity he has given you tonight. He’s done what you’ve been asking him this whole time—broken down the wall between you two. Why are you so scared to take what was behind it? Because it’ll consume you. It already is. And you know if he disappears again—If he disappears after all this everything it would be so, so much worse. It’s too much risk. It’s all too much. You can’t—

But fuck, he looks so lost in you. 

“Tell me, do you understand now?”

At this point, you couldn't lie even if you tried. Your heart is on the surface.

“Yes, yeah. I-I do. Me too, Jake.”

“Fuck, mía.” He groans between desperate kisses on your mouth, then becomes a prayer that escapes from his lips with every needier, sloppier thrust of his hips. “Mía, mía, mía…”

Your whole body tenses under him then the pleasure rips you from the inside, making you scream this time. The hard squeeze of your cunt enough to push him to the edge. He grinds his cock as deep as he can against something that makes you sob and then he’s cumming, hard. You feel his body shuddering above and you want to see every second of it but everything goes blurry.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow, you find yourself on his lap again. Your whole body a dead weight against him. Your head tugged in the curve of his neck. His hands moving up and down along your back.

Your body is tired yet the adrenaline is still running through your veins. You can feel it buzzing somewhere inside, that’s why you are surprised when your voice comes out as a whisper.

“If you disappear again I swear that I—”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

You push back to look into his eyes in search of any sign that may tell otherwise, but you don’t find any.

“I won’t be long gone. I’ll be back soon,” he reassures, running his fingertips from your neck to your collarbone, his lips gently tracing your jawline. “Apenas pude aguantarme esta vez. No soy tan fuerte.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll be back. Ok?”

Suddenly he’s looking into your eyes for some sort of final confirmation that you feel the same way he feels, even if he didn’t confess it with words. And you do. You do, you do, you do, your answer to him. Instead, your mouth says—

“Ok.”

He takes your face in both his hands. His lips brushing yours.

“Mi preciosa.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A few hours before sunrise, long after the rain has stopped, you enter your apartment. Happy and exhausted, you know you’ll fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You also know you’ll dream of brown deep eyes and a raspy voice calling you preciosa over and over again.

As you put your keys next to the mirror at the entrance your eyes catch a sparkle on your neck. It’s a silver necklace with a little moon on it. It’s beautiful.

Your head turns to the window, to the moonlight and the limousine below it that you know won't leave until it sees all your lights off. 

You had never felt anything like this before, you had never been under the weight of an emotion so strong that there was no way to communicate it with words, you had never been able to understand someone just by looking into their eyes. But then Jake isn’t like anyone you have met before either. And there's nothing you'd do to change that.

You know he will be back.

———————————————

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#jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #moon knight imagines #steven grant smut #mcu moon knight #moon knight smut #jake lockley fluff

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

defy your destiny | rewrite your fate.

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley) x Avatar Fem!Reader/OC

Update Schedule: Semi-daily (schedule depends on my work, most of the chapters are already written and I'm writing buffers coz I can't stop, help--)

Summary: Under the luminous full moon of the pre colonial Philippine archipelago in the year 900, Mira Batala's fate to serve their patron moon goddess, Mayari, as an avatar was sealed from the moment a divine kiss was bestowed on her forehead from her infancy. Gifted with a second chance at life, her extraordinary birth marks the onset of a divine oath to be honored and fulfilled as immortality soon became a curse rather than a gift. As she outlived her family and becomes the last of her olden lineage, Mira embarks on a millennia-long journey of protecting her people and guiding the travelers of the night through its darkest.

bugna: takipsilim (destiny's twilight) is a thrilling saga of ancient gods, boundless love, and a woman's timeless odyssey. As Mira confronts her past and embraces her role as Mayari's Avatar, she discovers the essence of her bugna (true destiny) and the interconnectedness of all strings of fate tied to her own: namely her intertwined destinies with Marc Spector, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley as the reincarnated fragments of her greatest love's past life.

TW/CW: Abuse, Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, Drama, Dreams and Nightmares, Falling In Love, Fluff, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping I'm Sorry, Idiots in Love, Not Beta Read, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Reader-Insert Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Build, Smut, Soulmates, Trauma.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

MASTERLIST BELOW

Prologue | A Kiss Of Intertwined Destinies

Chapter One | Shadows Of The Past

Chapter Two | Dreams Of Fate, Farewell & New Beginnings

Chapter Three | A Chance Encounter Above The Clouds

Chapter Four | The Homecoming

Chapter Five | Ties & Strings That Bind

Chapter Six | Coffees, Paninis & Museum Dreams

Chapter Seven | A Night of Discovery, History and Connection

Chapter Eight | Avatar Of Mayari, Protector Of The Night

Chapter Nine | Forgotten Memories & Inevitable Truth

Chapter Ten | A Taste of Camaraderie & New Adventures

Chapter Eleven | When The Sparks Fly

Chapter Twelve | Between Awakening Desires & Celebratory Nights

Chapter Thirteen | Companionship & Late Night Confessions

Chapter Fourteen | The Hidden Protector

Chapter Fifteen | Bound By The Crescent Moon

Chapter Sixteen | All Has Been Revealed

Chapter Seventeen | Moon Magic & Mysteries Of The Night We Met

Chapter Eighteen | Shared Burdens & Unexpected Alliances

Chapter Nineteen | Choices and Commitments

Chapter Twenty | coming soon (11/13/2023)

Chapter Twenty One | coming soon (11/14/2023)

Chapter Twenty Two | coming soon (11/15/2023)

Chapter Twenty Three | coming soon (11/16/2023)

Chapter Twenty Four | coming soon (11/17/2023)

Chapter Twenty Five | coming soon (11/18/2023)

MORE CHAPTERS COMING SOON.

Also, I will be cross posting this on Wattpad and AO3 soon, so I have commissioned an artist to create a book cover. Here's a sneak peak.

I'm super excited to show you the rest once she's done. In the meantime, please follow her on Instagram @lindsaynid_arts if you wanna see more of her artwork.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #mcu moon knight #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc x avatar f!reader #steven x avatar f!reader #jake x avatar f!reader #moon knight x avatar f!reader #philippine mythology #philippines #ancient egypt #egyptian mythology #filipino reader #filipino #filipina #pre colonial philippines #mayari #khonshu #anubis #layla el faouly #moon knight system

[romana-after-dark]

Finish the Job

Yandere!Jake Lockley x GN!reader

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Summary: After months living in a room with only Jake, Steven and Marc as company, you can't say you aren't content most of the time. Sometimes, however you make a little trouble and Jake reminds you that he is the only one who can keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Yandere!Jake. Reader is kidnapped. Implied/referenced rape (reader 'never said no' according to jake, but rather just gave in after an unclosed amount of time bc they were lonely/manipulated. The circumstances of this are v vague but remember, if you feel like you have to, its not consent.) Jake Lockley typical violence. Referenced past abuse.

A/N: I began writing this fem reader, as most of my fics are since I am fem, but I realized there was no reason this couldn't be gender neutral. So, that's what it is. If I missed changing anything that makes it seem like reader is fem presenting, lmk and I'll edit it but I looked through this several times.

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

You couldn’t say the bed was uncomfortable. You couldn’t say the room was bland or boring. You couldn’t say you had nothing to do. It was a great room, actually. If you were being honest, you loved it here…

The problem was you couldn’t leave. When the man had taken you, it took a while to figure out what was going on with him; it was Steven that explained it, the DID. Honestly, maybe the mental disorder should have scared you more, but you were well versed in different disorders so it wasn’t something that phased you, rather than just made it a challenge to navigate your situation. You were given book after book after book to read, to entertain you when outside of Marc Steven and Jake’s company; it didn't matter how many you went through, you just had them. If you were feeling brave, you made requests but honestly after the boredom of the first month while you were still fighting it, you took what you could get. You were even given a laptop, although it couldn’t possibly connect to the internet, but you were writing. They didn’t even make you show them what you wrote, but Steven would often sit on the bed while you read to him your poems or short stories. You were saving your novel for when it’s finished.

Some days were better than others. 

Some days you and Steven talked for hours.

Some days you and Marc marathonned Star Wars.

Some days Jake held you so warm and so tightly you forgot they kidnapped you.

Today was not one of those days.

You were angry, you were upset, you missed your friends and you missed the outside, you wanted fresh air and you didn’t want to spread your legs for a man that took you away from everything you knew and wanted. 

“Why are you giving me so much fucking attitude today?!” Jake shouts at you, pacing the floor of your room so aggressively he had your throw rug all twisted up.

You were sat up on your bed, shouting back. “You KIDNAPPED ME, you HURT ME you RAPE ME-”

“CALLATE!” He screamed, storming towards you so fast you flinch and scramble back to the wall. “You know I don’t like when you call it that!”

A sardonic laugh. “What? Rape?”

“I never forced you! I never held you down! I never got you too drunk or high to resist-”

“YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, WHAT OTHER OPTION DID I HAVE!”

His face is suddenly right up to yours, so close your nose brushed his briefly as he speaks in a dark, quiet voice. “I never heard you say no, mi vida”

He was right. You hadn’t. But they had worn you down, twisted your mind so much that eventually you just began… giving in.

He continued talking, his voice rumbling with the low octive “I only hurt you in the beginning, carino. Just until you began to listen. You needed it, didn’t you? Someone to take you away from everything, take care of you, feed you. Baby, we adore you, and it hurts us when you fight like this.”

Your eyes wheeled up with tears at his words. It’s true, you had become so dependent on them… you weren’t sure you could even shower alone anymore. You’d be lucky if you remembered how to toast bread. Sickeningly, a part of you liked it. You liked he cared for, pampered, adored, and fuck, worshiped. You had time to write, time to listen to music and podcasts. If you need to look up something for a book or research something from a podcast that interested you, you just asked, and the boys would monitor you. You didn’t really need anything except some goddamn freedom. What was that they said in The Handmaid’s Tale? There’s freedom too, and freedom from… They offered you freedom from, and made that clear.

“The world is dangerous, precioso. You know that as well as I do… perhaps better.” With a cocked eyebrow, Jake referenced your past trauma’s, forcing the tears to spill over. “You are too precious, too perfect to be put at risk again. Your family didn’t protect you, but I will.”

Still, you are ever-defiant, shaking your head. “N-no… you aren’t protecting me. You’re hurting me…” but even then, you couldn’t manage much conviction. You hadn’t so much as burned your tongue since Steven, Marc, and Jake took you, and he was right… the rest was just discipline. 

Jake frowned, but simple stood up. He went over to your desk, taking out a Glee notepad he’d found on ebay for you and a pen, tossing them in your direction.

“Write them down, all the names.”

You look at him confused. “W-what names?”

He stalked forward, once again close to you.

“Give me the full name of anyone who has ever hurt you or touched you without your consent.” His gaze was focused, intense. You knew he was on a mission when he looked at you like that.

“I don’t… I don’t know all their full names…”

“If you have workplace addresses, any identifying information that’s helpful. I promise you, I’ll take whatever you give me and I will find them. Every single person who has ever caused you pain.”

“What are you going to do?” You didn’t really need to ask, but you did anyway.

“You and I both know. Now write.”

The list was long, longer than any one person’s list should be. A few, you only remembered their first name so you wrote down what you knew… Jake had his ways. Still, you had some cheek in you, and when Jake looked at the paper, he frowned.

“What the fuck is this.” He smacked the paper with his hand. After the list of people who had violated or harmed you before you came here, were three names Jake recognized right away.

Jake Lockley

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

“You told me to write the names of anyone who hurt me or touched me without-” SMACK! Your head flung to the side from the backhand, and when your turned back to face him, his hand gripped your throat.

“You think this is funny, carino?” His face pressed against yours. “How do you think Marc would feel if he saw his name on that list?”

Your lip quivered at that… you didn’t want Marc to see. Marc was special to you, and Jake knew it; he often exploited your relationship with his alter for his own benefit.

“I’m sorry” You cried, apologetic.

His grip on you loosened, and he looked back at you with sympathetic eyes. Letting go, he tore the bottom three names off the paper and tucked the offenders into his pocket. “I know you are, amor. Now, you sit here pretty, and don’t worry about a damn thing for the rest of your life, si?”

It took about a month. He never left you for more than one day at a time, but he always made sure you had food and were provided for, even giving you access to the bathroom. You didn’t dare even look for an exit; they wouldn’t have left anything vulnerable, and you were on camera, you knew. It would just cause trouble.

It was after one of those such nights where you were alone that he came back to you, still somehow looking put together after being out all night. You knew he hadn’t slept. You awake to his footsteps, heavy boots on your polished hard wood floor. As you stir, a piece of paper is placed on your pillow.

Sitting up you rub your eyes. “Jake, what’s- ” But you are stopped in the middle of your sentence. Every single name is crossed out on the list you had given him. “Does… does what mean they are dead?”

He steps forward, slipping to stand between your knees and bedding over, placing his hands on your thighs. His face was intensely close to yours, dark eyes piercing yours. You lean forward, accepting him in, existing in his precise. Jake did this for you. You were safe here, none of these people could hurt you… but because they had, whether months ago or decades, it didn’t matter. They were dead because they had crossed you, because they had dared to touch what Jake Lockley laid claim to. Jake, Marc and Steven… they were where you belonged.

 “Jake Lockley finishes the job.”

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

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @the-fox-den @fandxmslxt69

#jake lockley #yandere #yandere jake lockley #dark jake lockley #dark!jake lockley #dark moon knight #moon knight #yandere moon knight #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[loki-hargreeves]

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Jake Lockley/Steven Grant/Marc Spector x fem!Reader Warnings: implied murder [by Jake’s hand] so dark undertones, angst, reader gets injured [assault], mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, my attempt at using Spanish as someone who is still beginning to learn it [please don’t read this if anything like this could possibly upset you.] Word Count: 4,1K Summary: It has been a while since Harrow mysteriously ‘disappeared’ yet one of his followers is still loyal to him. The follower in question comes after you, suspecting you know where the man is. When Jake Lockley finds out about the incident, he makes sure to reunite the follower with Harrow. A/N: Jake Lockley owns my ass and I just needed to finally finish a WIP with him in it. Please enjoy!

YOUR POV

You were deeply upset, that much was clear from the very moment you arrived at the flat, coming home from work. Steven immediately went after you, his heart sinking to his stomach when he realized you were crying.

“Love, what happened?” Steven forgot about everything else, his mind entirely on you now. You stopped in your tracks, shaking hands covering your mouth as you held back a sob, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. There was blood all over your clothes.

Marc and Jake noticed what was going on but there was little they could do when Steven was in control. They both swore they would kill anyone if they had hurt you but perhaps Jake took that promise a little bit more seriously.

Is she bleeding?! Marc thought, wanting to jump into action to check you for injuries as Steven looked at you with pity and shock written on his face. His reflection appeared on the surface of Gus’ tank, looking at you instead of Steven.

Jake was standing by, quiet as a mouse but there was a deadly look on his face, thoughts conjuring in his mind about what he would do to whoever had dared even touch a hair on your body. 

“Here,” Steven gently took your hands into his, wanting to see your face. The cries that left poured past your quivering lips felt like whips to his heart. 

“I’m so...I’m so sorry!” You choked out, leaning against Steven for dear life, legs finally collapsing after carrying you away from that mess. The adrenaline rush had ended, now completely gone having paved a path for hurt and misery to replace it with. Guilt was weighing you down as you closed your eyes, seeing what you had done to the man. It was just self-defense, yet you felt horrible as if your hands were soaked in hot, pungent blood.

“Shh,” Steven shushed you softly, “you’re alright. You have nothing to be sorry about.” Steven didn’t actually know what had happened but there was no possible situation in which you were faulty for this, all the blood and tears. There was just no way. Not you, the kindest and most wonderful of people he knew of.

Steven held onto you carefully, his hand rubbing your back instinctively as a desperate attempt to comfort you as you cried. You were too upset to even try to speak as you let him hold you, the shock washing away and finally allowing you to feel the pain. There was a dull ache in your bones, your knees wet with blood, knuckles burning as a painful reminder of what you had been forced to do.

The actions of what had happened just moments earlier were replaying in your head like a broken record, making your heart stammer and thoughts swirl like a hurricane, dragging along every fearful thought. For a brief moment, you had feared that you’d never see them again. That the last time you ever saw Marc, Steven and Jake was when they were still sleeping, you looking over your shoulder at them before going to work. The thought of the sun rising to a day without you in it had crossed your mind.

You felt so relieved to be there, in Steven’s arms. The scent of his cologne enveloped you, the safety of something so familiar bringing you solace. You were safe. They would never let anything happen to you, especially not after this. Safe. You were safe. 

“Are you hurt?” Steven needed to know. Was that a dumb question? 

Why else would she be covered in blood? Jake butted in, pacing around restlessly as he awaited to know just how bad your injuries were. Oh if only he could get his hands on the person responsible for this...

Ignoring Jake, Steven wondered if you needed to go to the hospital. Just the thought alone made Steven feel nauseous, unable to imagine any scenario where you’d get hurt. Even seeing you with a paper cut on your finger made him feel horrible. 

“Maybe,” You nodded just enough for him to see as you stepped back, “I’ll be fine,” you whispered  as if your mind was elsewhere. Those words didn’t convince anyone though. There was a shadow over your eyes. To Steven, it looked like you weren’t even looking at him, as if you were looking past his shoulder and somehow seeing the scenes unfold before you again, reminding you of what had happened.

“Can I see?” Steven scanned you over, noticing that the deep shade of crimson had stained your clothes and settled on your skin too. If he hadn’t gotten so familiar to the sight of blood in the past few months, Steven was sure the sight would’ve made him faint.

Steven guided you to the bathroom, sitting you down on a wooden stool as he knelt before you. Ever so tenderly he lifted your shirt, holding in his breath as he feared seeing something gruesome. Seeing the damage on your body was gruesome, red lines standing out on your sides as deep bruises formed near your left ribs. However, there was a lot of blood on your shirt that didn’t seem to have come from you.

Where did all that blood come from? Marc wanted to know, part of him already aware of the answer.

“Whose blood is this?” Steven needed to know, trying his best to remain calm. If not for himself, for your sake. He had never seen you like that, so distressed and out of it. To him, it was as if someone had chased the light away from your eyes, those beautiful eyes of yours. 

“Not sure,” You didn’t know the man’s name, “said he’s looking for Harrow. He thought I knew where he is,” the words you spoke seemed calculated, not in a deceiving way, more robotic and distant. Steven feared that you were acting that way in order to cope, distancing yourself from the painful present but it only meant you were getting lost on the inside. 

I’m going to kill him, Jake was quicker to declare that, taking the words right out of Marc’s mouth.

I thought Harrow was gone, Marc struggled to understand how such a man could cause problems to this fucking day. He had almost dared to believe Harrow and his creepy followers were completely in the past.

He is gone!

Steven ignored the two others, happy you couldn’t hear them as he continued searching for injuries, just now noticing that there were bruises forming around your neck area, surrounded by small scratches and splatters of blood. Steven couldn’t see anything else but something told him you’d have bruises under the rest of your clothes too, if you had been in such a fight. Steven knew how ugly it could get. 

You didn’t deserve that. None of it. If Steven could shelter you from all the cruelty of the world, he would do it.

Although Steven only had a small idea of how exactly you sustained these injuries, it didn’t seem too inaccurate to suspect you had been hit by a bus. It was worse though, as reality often was. This was done by a man, another breathing and living human being. Steven didn’t want to think about it, the image in his head of this happening was far too much for him. What help would he be if he let his nerves get the best of him now?

“I’ll be right back, I’ll go grab the first aid kit, yeah?” Steven needed to let you know that before he got up, frantically looking around for the little red box. His heart was pounding in his chest, forcing him to act quickly as wasting time meant you’d keep bleeding. The sooner he could ease your pain the better.

Perhaps this would be better suited for Marc? He knew how to patch people up better than Steven. 

“Marc?” Steven had found the firstaid kit but he was willing to give control to someone with more expertise, deciding it was the best option for everyone right now.

On it, Marc reassured Steven and just like that he was in control of the body. By now, the three of them had learned to shift control rather smoothly. Life was easier now that they learned to balance each other out and live in harmony, sort of. The lack of blackouts helped too. 

Marc returned to your side, putting the small box down on the tiled bathroom floor and grabbing the necessities to first of all stop the bleeding. Although you weren’t bleeding much, he figured the wounds required some kind of compress. They could be cleaned after, but first Marc needed to know everywhere you were hurt so he could make it all better. 

“If you’re hurting somewhere else too, you need to tell me, alright?” Marc knew you were most likely in shock and that’s why you were quiet. He understood your reaction from the little information he knew. Being hurt physically by anyone was terrible and frightening. Despite his anger, not only directed at the person who did this but also at himself for letting this happen, Marc stayed somewhat calm and collected.

“Yeah,” Your voice was hardly above a whisper, teary eyes avoiding Marc’s as you sat there. “My head kind of hurts,” Admitting it was surprisingly difficult. When your own inner voice was so confused and scared, it was very helpful to let Marc guide you. You hadn’t even thought about the pain in your head or even telling him about it. All you found yourself thinking about was that you were safe. Safe. The word repeating in your head, trying to convince you of it being true. 

“Let me look, okay?” 

All you could do was nod, letting Marc scan your head for injuries. When he saw the back of your head, blood partly dry partly bright red on your neck, he had to force himself to hide his reaction. The last thing Marc wanted to do was to startle you. At first glance, it was bad, but Marc knew that once the blood was gone you’d be just alright. It wasn’t as awful as it looked, nothing he couldn’t fix at the very least. Well unless you had a concussion, then he definitely had to get you to a hospital. 

Oh god, Marc that looks horrible... Steven wanted to call an ambulance for you the moment he saw all that blood. Maybe his concern wasn’t so misplaced. 

If we take her to the hospital now she’ll be safe when we go track down the son of a-

We can’t leave her alone! Steven directed that at Jake, look at her, she’s terrified! She needs us. Oh bloody hell...

Bloody hell indeed.

Marc wished he could mute Steven and Jake as they bickered in the background, which was surprisingly quite a rare occurrence, at least on this level. Of course, situations like these brought out different sides of people. Under stress and worry for a loved one, anyone would act out. Unfortunately for Marc, it meant two people were arguing for his ears only, English and Spanish mixing in disagreement of the order of the next events. 

Jake sounded like he was ready to storm out the door and bring a man to an early grave right this second. Marc could relate to Jake in that moment but he knew there was no way he could leave your side now. Payback would have to wait.

You tried to touch the back of your head to see if you were bleeding but Marc quickly stopped you from doing that. He grabbed your hand gently and placed a reassuring kiss on your temple, 

“You’ll be fine, baby. I promise.”

                The water in the bathtub had a vivid red tint in it, even smelling like the blood Marc was washing off of you. No soaps or bath salts could possibly cover that copper stench. You sat in the tub with your scraped knees above the water, needing something to hold onto. Marc had cleaned up your wounds and even stitched you up when you refused to go to the hospital. In your head, a visit to the hospital would probably result in a visit to the police station and that was the last thing you wanted. 

For now, Marc stopped pressuring you about a hospital trip but he kept a close eye on you. If you showed any signs of getting worse, he wouldn’t hesitate to get you the help you needed. 

“Tell me if it hurts, I’ll try to be gentle,” Marc soaked the washcloth in the water and then rubbed it along your back, washing away the dry blood that had dripped all the way from the back of your head to the bottom of your spine. 

“Okay,” That was all you could muster up, mind still wrapped around the scary encounter. Was the man still looking for you? Would he show up at the flat? Or was he somewhere bleeding out because of the injury you caused him? 

“Hey,” Marc’s heart was breaking the longer he was there, failing to look past the expression on your face. It seemed like you had seen a ghost. “Talk to me, baby. What happened?” 

Daring to glance at your lover, you were pained to see just how worried he was, brown eyes full of concern. He didn’t seem angry, which you had almost expected for some reason. They were never angry at you and now you felt stupid for thinking that would happen. 

“I left work and went to get some coffee,” You took a shaky, deep breath as you tried to tell him about what had happened. “I was in the parking house and that’s when he showed up. He knew my name, where I worked. He wanted to know about Harrow’s whereabouts,” You felt sick every time you remembered Arthur Harrow. Had it not been for a miracle, Harrow would’ve been responsible for Marc’s death, Steven and Jake’s too. 

“He didn’t take it too well when you didn’t have the answers?” Marc feared, now washing the blood off your neck, being extremely careful around the wound he had stitched up. Marc didn’t want you to see how enraged he felt thinking about the man who had hurt you, knowing that you needed to feel a sense of security right now. Keeping that under control wasn’t a simple task. Marc swore he would find that bastard soon and make him pay for this.

“He had a knife,” You whispered, throat dry and your voice hardly carrying the words as you held back tears. Crying was exhausting and you didn’t want to cry again, but the pain was too much to handle. It felt like your heart had been crushed, absolutely drained of faith in other people. 

“I thought I would never see you again, I couldn’t have that happen,” Telling Marc about it brought back the fear, chills running down your spine and fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. Just when you thought you had no more tears to weep. “I tried to run but he was faster. We fought. He dropped the knife and I...oh god,”

Marc dropped the washcloth into the water, now focused on your words only. He was gripping the edge of the tub so hard he was sure it would break. The mental image of someone threatening you with a knife was taunting him. He should’ve known something like this would happen. It felt like this was entirely his fault.

“It’s okay,” Marc took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss on the roof of your hand, not caring about the fact you still had bloody water dripping down your skin. All he wanted was to comfort you, to make you feel like you could talk about what had happened. Marc knew how important that was. Letting stuff like that stay locked in your head wasn’t good for anyone. 

“I grabbed it. I just wanted to scare him away but he leapt at me. Everything happened so fast, Marc! I...I just swung it,” You didn’t need to explain it further for Marc to understand. Part of him was so relieved you had defended yourself, part of him worried of how everything would affect you. 

“There was so much blood. I left and didn’t look back. I had to get out of there!”

“I know, I know, baby,” Marc reassured you, not letting you judge yourself for leaving that man behind. For all Marc cared, he could bleed out and perish. 

Leaning toward Marc, you closed your eyes and let him hug you. At that very moment, the comfort was the only thing that eased your mind, chasing away the paranoid thoughts. You clung to Marc’s shirt with wet fingers, allowing his soothing words to help you relax. Pink droplets of water settled on your skin, some trailing down back into the water. One bath surely wouldn’t be enough.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Marc gave you his word. The sincerity of it all made it easy for you to believe him. Everything would be just fine.

                                                        Jake had waited rather patiently for you all to fall asleep. Marc and Steven had comforted you and luckily they too fell asleep, exhausted after the long day, slipping into a dream realm far far away. Jake was still there, now in control on a much deeper level. It had been a while since he had done this, taking control and making sure they wouldn’t take it back until he was done with his work.

You hadn’t noticed when Jake left the flat. He had checked several times that you were actually in a deep sleep, satisfied with the steady rise and fall of your chest and the relaxed expression on your face, not resembling the pained one he had seen earlier. You’d be fine, you’d be safe. He’d be back before anyone would even notice he was gone in the first place.

It wasn’t until Jake returned that you woke up, heart jumping to your throat when you heard the door closing. To your relief, you quickly realized where you were, recognizing your surroundings and the man who was joining you in bed. Safe. You were safe. 

“Where were you?” You wondered, sleep still heavy in your voice. The blanket was so warm and comfortable, it would lull you right back to sleep any moment now. 

“Just getting some fresh air, mi vida,” Jake wasn’t really lying, or so he told himself as he climbed under the blanket, joining your side. The bed felt soft, softer than usual, especially after such a refreshing little night trip. Jake knew he’d sleep better knowing the man who had hurt you had been dealt with. It was even better than he had done it alone. Steven and Marc would've probably stopped him and tried to convince Jake that he was deserving of less of a punishment. Perhaps not. Jake didn’t have the patience to wait for all of them to come to an agreement of what they would do. The answer was simple.

Something about Jake’s demeanour told you he hadn’t been out just for fresh air. Suddenly you felt more awake and energized, curious in a morbid way. Sometimes not knowing things was for the best but you couldn’t help it, you needed to know what Jake had done.

“Did you find him?” You dared to ask, jumping to conclusions, fingers finding Jake’s and intertwining ever so softly. His hand was cold, calloused fingers feeling familiar and lovely on your skin though. Despite Jake’s efforts to conceal his actions, you felt the strain in his touch and saw the evidence on his knuckles.

Jake just looked at you for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. Moonlight poured in through the gaps of the blinds, landing on your skin which only enhanced the ethereal aura you owned. When Jake realized the silver light also illuminated the bruises on your delicate skin, he felt a flash of rage pass him. He should’ve gotten rid of that guy along with each and every follower of Arthur Harrow’s fucked up cult long ago. If he had just done that, you would’ve never been hurt in the first place.

“I did,” He decided to tell you the truth in hopes it would bring you comfort. When he saw your shoulders relaxing, he knew he had done the right thing. Wrong or right, Jake Lockley would’ve done it again in a heartbeat. Anyone who harmed the love of his life would pay for it with their life. 

“Thank you,” You didn’t need to know of the details, whether or not the man lived or not. If Jake had visited him, you were convinced you’d never see or hear from the man ever again. To you, that was more than enough. 

Jake appreciated that you didn’t dig deeper into it. Now that it had been dealt with he could finally relax a little bit and focus on you and you alone. There weren’t any plans of vengeance in his mind anymore, just plans of making it up to you in every possible way. Sure, Jake had returned the man to Harrow’s side which he had so desperately wanted, but it didn’t feel like he had done enough. 

Jake loved you, everything about you. You were the air he breathed, the stars on his sky and the blood that filled his veins. To him, you were a goddess, human evidence of miracles being real. You were the calm after the storm, the brave and sweet person who stayed by his side despite knowing more about him than anyone ever before. Jake knew that you knew what he had done yet there you lied, right by his side with a loving look on your face. The light was back in your eyes, practically dancing with affection and gratitude, relief too.

Sure, Steven and Marc would probably give him an earful or two for such drastic measures but when Jake saw the look in your eyes, he couldn’t possibly have cared about what they had to say. They wanted to do it too, he knew it, but Jake was the one who followed through with those desires. 

Jake brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against the flat of your palm. His eyes, dark as the night, looked at you intensely yet with so much affection it nearly made you swoon. Perhaps it was wrong, but you felt safe knowing that Jake was willing to do anything for you. If you asked him for the moon, he would find a way to give it to you. When the world was as messy as it was, it was good to know you weren’t in it alone. Right here, this bed, this man was your home. There was no other place you’d rather be. 

“You need to rest,” Jake stated clearly, the urge to take care of you strong. This tender and attentive side of him the polar opposite of what he had been like moments before. When Jake had found the man who had hurt you, he had seen red. Like an enraged bull, he hadn’t hesitated to get into action. Finding him hadn’t been hard either. People could hide from Jake Lockley, but he always found them in the end. Running away from him was foolish, only buying people mere seconds of extra time. 

Jake wouldn’t tell you this now but when he saw the damage you had done, he had been proud. His baby girl did that, you had stood up for yourself.

Jake usually worked with guns. It was a classic choice, quick and easy. Tonight he didn’t want to work quickly. No, this was very much personal. An eye for an eye, right?

If those who had crossed his path in an undesirable way could see Jake now, they wouldn’t recognize him, holding you as you laid your weary head on his chest. Jake traced his fingers along the details on your face and then your neck, gentle touch full of love. Jake was aware of the wounds at all times, not wishing to accidentally hurt you.

Before you drifted off to sleep once more, now being embraced by Jake, you needed to tell him; “I love you.”

Those three words were like magic, affecting Jake more than you’d ever know. Those three words made the dirty work worth it. Jake would finish every ugly mess, do what Marc and Steven wouldn’t or couldn’t if it meant you were safe and happy. If that meant you’d still love him. Jake would wash the blood off his hands for the rest of his living days for you.

“Y te amo tanto, más de lo que nunca sabrás,” Jake confessed sincerely, often switching to Spanish when the words he wanted to tell you were so intimate. They came right from the very center of his heart. 

“Sleep tight, mi corazón.”

Jake would never let anyone come close to hurting you ever again. One way or another, he’d make sure of it. There was not a thing he wouldn’t do to ensure that.

Anyone who would dare even think of it would be damned.

A/N: Hope you liked it! The thought of being Jake Lockley’s enemy is terrifying to me, just realized that. I would hate that, actually. 

I hope my Spanish is correct. It’s supposed to say

“And I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know.” 

#Jake Lockley #Jake Lockley x Reader #Jake Lockley x f!Reader #Jake Lockley x fem!Reader #Jake Lockley/Reader #Jake Lockley fanfiction #Moon Knight x Reader #Steven Grant x fem!Reader #Marc Spector x fem!Reader #Steven grant x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader

[davosmymaster]

Triggers

A/N - This should also be warning: this fic is purely self-indulgent. I’ve written some of my own personal experiences in it as both a plus-size person and what people call “a late bloomer”. I try to give as little (and general) physical descriptions as I can for the reader, so you can read it however you like and this is not specifically a plus size!reader or anything. I think many people will identify with the reader in this, but if you think it can bother you please do not read. There are no talks of body image or eating (as you can check in the warnings). I had to give names to some original characters, though, because I don’t personally like the (yourfriend’sname) thingy.

Basically, I just had this idea and had to write it. Here it is. Hope you enjoy. (If you see a typo or something doesn’t make sense, remember English is not my first language no you didn’t)

TAGS AND WARNINGS - +18, Minors DNI, oral sex, p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, safewords (mentioned), dom/sub dynamics (kind of), spit kink, cunnilingus, light bdsm (i think), hurt/comfort, bullying (mentioned), fighting with friends.

PAIRINGS - Jake Lockley x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 6.4k

SUMMARY - At the wedding of one of your high school best friends, you're asked about your singleness. You snap back, revealing some painful truths. Six months later, Jake Lockley disagrees with every word you said, and makes a personal commitment to let you know how wrong you are, every day, for as long as he breathes.

TRIGGERS

One of your friends is getting married.

 You're happy for them, really, you are. They are a lovely couple. She's very much in love with him, and it's obvious by the way that he's looking at her when he says "I do" that he loves her just as much. They've been dating for five years now, and engaged for two of them.

 So why do you feel that constant ache in your chest?

Your invitation said to bring a plus one, but you don't have a partner and all your closest friends, both men and women, were already invited to the wedding. They have all brought a companion, either their significant other —most of them— or someone they are already dating but not quite. You can't help but frown at that last group, you are not sure you could cope with the instability of not knowing if you can make plans for the future with the person you love in case they decide to leave you tomorrow. No strings attached because, hey, you two were nothing.

 But you're no one to judge, not like you're doing it either way. And even if you did, they'd probably laugh it off because you've never dated anyone, and it'd be just a further embarrassment for your persona.

 In the end, you're the only one who's actually single at the celebration. You had hoped the groom brought some single friends of his. Not like you wanted to flirt with them, it was more a matter of not feeling like a weirdo; but the closest to being single you can find there is a man in his late twenties who's already filling up divorce papers, according to your friends. And that fact only makes you feel worse about yourself. He didn't come alone either, after all.

 There's one friend of yours, her name is Ava. She broke up with her boyfriend of four years like two months ago; so you sort of expected her to be in your very same situation. It wasn't a clean breakup. But she also came with someone and your eyebrows shoot up to the sky when you see her new girlfriend.

 "Who is that?" you ask another of your high school friends.

 "I think her name is Lottie," Olivia replies. "They're not official yet, though. But they've been seeing each other and she looks quite happy."

 You hum in response, wondering how on Earth people move on so quickly; especially after a four-year hiatus from the dating world.

 "I'm going to the bathroom," she announces, gently stroking her fiancé's arm before leaving the table. Her high heels dig circles on the green grass as she walks. The sun is unusually bright for a spring day in Surrey, and you hope your foundation doesn't melt before the pictures are taken. "Wanna come?" she asks.

 You nod and follow her inside.

 The first thing she does once she gets in is checking no one's inside. You had already thought that maybe she wanted to talk somewhere private. After all, you've known her for many years now and she's one of your best friends. You lock the door.

 "I just think it's impressive how quickly she moved on, to be honest," you say, because you can sense that's exactly what she intended to talk about. "Of course, I'm happy for her-"

 "What else did you expect her to do? Cry for two months?" she chuckles, although her tone is not necessarily friendly. She checks her makeup in the mirror and reapplies some of it. Yours is intact, and thank lord it is because you didn't even bring a lipstick. "You know, people don't usually waste time."

 You look at yourself in the mirror, wondering for a second if you heard correctly.

 "What is that supposed to mean?"

 She sighs audibly and puts her lipstick in her purse. Now she takes some compact powder and gently presses it into her skin. You might ask for it later. Not if the conversation goes in the direction you think it's going.

 "I'm just saying that, well- it's time to start your dating life, don't you think?" she says. "I mean, I don't want to be rude, and we've talked about this before. But we're not teenagers anymore, and you've never had half the experiences most of us had in our teenage years."

 Her words throw you off balance. She's maybe partially right, and she's touching on a subject that you're too sensitive about. She did say she didn't want to be rude, though. And she's been your friend for a while now, so you don't want to get upset right away.

 "I've had no luck," you say, leaning back on the sink and crossing your arms, not without making sure it is dry first.

 "See, that's where you're wrong," she says, pointing at you with an accusatory finger. "You're waiting for your knight in shining armour, just waiting. You don't flirt with guys, don't go to pubs-"

 "I do go to pubs, sometimes."

 She raises an eyebrow.

 "Once in a blue moon," she says, and you shrug your shoulders. It's not like you're the kind of person to go to pubs every weekend, but you wouldn't say you go 'once in a blue moon', you just have other hobbies than spending every single Saturday and Sunday of your life being hangover, but you do like partying. Plus, it's not like the guys who go there are waiting to put a ring on your finger. "What I'm saying is- you can't expect Mr Right to just appear out of nowhere, and obviously you can't have extremely high standards-"

 "So I should settle with the first person that comes my way. Is that what you're saying?"

 She chuckles under her breath, obviously annoyed.

 "I'm not saying that, but maybe you should not tell them to fuck off when said guy tries to hang out with you."

 You know exactly what she's talking about, and your blood boils. Not long ago she gave your number to one of her fiancè's friends. So it did take you by surprise when this man you didn't know sent you a text. He was nice at the beginning, which was the first two days that he texted you non-stop. He got upset for late-replying even when you told him you were busy, working, which was not a lie. Then he texted you at midnight, asking if you wanted to attend some party, and when you refused because of how late it was, he said.

 "What are you? Cinderella? You have to be home at twelve?"

 He obviously just wanted you for one thing. There's no decent man who asks for a first date at midnight, and even if you wanted to keep it casual, you wouldn't have accepted just because of the way he spoke to you.

 "Did you even listen when I told you what he did?" you ask her.

 "Yes, and I don't see why you didn't go, honestly," she answers. "You could have had a good time, danced a bit and talked to him. Get to know each other."

 "At midnight, half-drunk."

 "Yes," she almost shouts. "He could've had different intentions, but you'll never know- No, let me talk," she says, once you try to interrupt. So you reluctantly let her speak. "You can't reject everyone from the start, because no one is up to your standards, and then cry because you've never had a relationship before. Even in high school we were all flirting with guys while you stayed in the corner. Don't you think it's time to grow up?"

 By the time she's done, your jaw is hanging from your face. Half of you expected something along the lines of what she just said, but you didn't think Olivia could be that cruel; especially when she knows how much it hurts you to talk about this.

 "Are you done?"

 "I guess," she responds, putting away all her makeup.

 You bite your lower lip first, trying to regain your breath as you find yourself suddenly running out of air.

 "You've never thought for a single second that all the people you guys flirted with in high school, were the same people who bullied me?"

 She snorts, annoyed, and whispers. "Oh, you're gonna start with that."

 "Yes, I am, actually," you respond. Your teeth are so clenched that your jaw is starting to hurt. "Because while you were out there succeeding with your love life, having any guy you wanted, Ava's first boyfriend was rating me minus five in the rank of the prettiest girls at school.

 "I was always the fat friend, or the flat one. Sometimes both. Guys, even now, only get my number to ask me for your number. And in the rare occasions when guys don't completely ignore my presence while talking to you, or Ava, or any of the rest, I find out that they were only hitting on me because they thought I was the best they could hope for. And I used to fall for that, but not anymore. I've never been called pretty, or any other nice words. No one has ever bought me a shot. So stop, stop talking as if finding a semi-decent human being is just so fucking easy."

 Olivia just holds your gaze, but you can tell she doesn't believe one word of what you're saying.

 "That's your problem," she says. "You always victimize yourself, so much. And that's just bullshit. Worst of all is you believe you're doing the right thing. I really do feel for you."

 That's enough to plant a seed of doubt in your mind. But that happens later, once you're alone in your flat, back in London. At that exact moment, you don't think of anything as you just stand there, tears pricking in your eyes as she takes her purse, unlocks the door and leaves you there, completely alone.

 Luckily —or not— it's not the first time you've had this conversation with one of your friends, so you already know she's the one who's wrong. And there's nothing you need to change about yourself or the way you act. And thank God you don't, because barely two weeks later, you meet Jake Lockley for the first time. And it doesn’t take you long to meet his alters, either, and fall for every single one of them, the same way they do for you.

 Needless to say, you don't talk to your friend anymore. Not at the wedding, and certainly not after.

Six months later

You're bent over the kitchen table. Air has been knocked out of your lungs with the impact, and you're unable to regain it back as an open palm between your shoulder blades keeps you firmly pressed against the wooden board. You gasp like a fish out of water, and thank whatever gods out there that the man above you seems not to be too concerned about how ridiculous you look in that position.

 As a rule of thumb, your boyfriend Jake hates quickies. If someone were to ask him on the street what bothers him the most in this world, you're ninety-nine per cent sure he would respond 'quickies', with the most straight face anyone has ever seen on this earth. Not the London traffic, not even how hard it is to find a parking spot for his thirty feet long limousine in the city. No, what bothers him most is not having enough time to fuck you; and the worst of all is that he doesn't mince words. If someone asked him, that's his honest answer.

 That's one of the things that you both fear the most and find the most admirable about Jake Lockley. He has no shame, not one single drop of it in his whole body. He does not care a single fuck what anyone has to say about him. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't envy him for that.

 "Uhm..." he lets out a low groan from the depths of his chest.

 His other hand, the one that is not holding you in place, travels down your right leg. The pads of his fingers brush your skin gently, an almost ghostly touch as he makes his way back from the back of your knee, up to your thigh until he reaches the tender skin of your glute. All the muscles of your body tighten as you wait for a spank that never comes. Instead, Jake chuckles behind you. He relieves the pressure on your back as he uses both his hands to lift your dress, the fabric now all rolled up around your hips.

 "Oh, look at you," you hear him say.

 Not a single second later you feel the denim of his jeans over your cotton panties, his erection impossibly hard behind it, and you can't help but bite your lip and moan as he grinds himself against you. The pleasure blooming down there forces you to press your hips against him too, and you soon find yourself on your tiptoes.

 "Jake..." you groan. "We don't have much time, hun."

 He lets out an annoyed grunt.

 "Joder... (Fuck...)" he mumbles in Spanish. "I hate quickies."

 "It's the third time you say that today."

 He really does hate them. He doesn't see the point of fucking if by the time he's done you're not absolutely destroyed under him. He's that type of man; all or nothing is his motto. He doesn't know how to keep it easy. He likes the sight of round fat tears clinging to your wet lashes, even the salty flavour of them on his tongue when he kisses you. He loves to edge you, overstimulate you to the point of exhaustion and rage, until all you can see is red and he has to make you cum before you gather any strength and use it to kick him in the balls for not letting you cum sooner.

 Sometimes it's the opposite, he works your body up, plays it like an instrument that he's proficient in, dragging so many orgasms out of you that you have to beg him to stop.

 And then he laughs.

 But he cannot do all of that now. In fact, sex wasn't even in the cards for today, having in mind that you had stayed the night before in his flat and you were still sore from that session. The trails of yellow and purple hickeys on your inner thighs are the only proof of his merciless, sinful actions.

 All of that was true until he saw you all dressed up, ready to leave the flat to attend a theatre play that starts in forty-five minutes. At first, it had been even fun to watch how Jake's jaw dropped to the floor, how he kept looking and looming over you time and time again, his eyes slipping up and down your figure, taking in the black dress you were wearing. He had the look of a hungry hawk when he approached you, and you immediately knew what was about to happen.

 The left side of your brain told you not to let him, that you'd be late for the play. But then he leant in to kiss you, mouth open and his heavy tongue against your own, and there was no amount of willpower that could have prevented the scene that was about to unfold.

 Behind you, Jake kneels on the floor. He catches the hem of your panties between his teeth as he goes down. You only know it because you can feel his ragged, hot breath against your skin as he bites the fabric. Once it passes your hips, he lets them fall to the ground. Then he bites your cheek.

 It doesn't hurt, but a little cry comes out of your throat nonetheless, and without even taking a glimpse of his face you can tell that he's amused; the biggest wicked grin on his face. People hardly ever see Jake smiling, but that's only because none of them have seen him during sex.

 "Jake," your angry tone does not go unnoticed, and you're now supporting your weight on your elbows. "We paid a lot for those tickets, I refuse to be late."

 He groans.

 "Isn't there another show later?" he asks, but that doesn't stop him from massaging your glutes, his thumbs on both sides of your groin as he pulls the skin of your inner thighs aside to have a better look at your glistening folds. "...for god's sake."

 You don't know if that last sentence is directed at you, or not.

 Before you can ask he's licking your entrance, giving enthusiastic laps at your folds as he buries his face in your most intimate parts. His actions leave you breathless, fists tightly closed over the table as you hide your face between them, nails digging into the tender flesh of your palms. Your forehead rests against the wooden board, and you feel how you start to break a sweat. Desire and wet heat start to pool at your lower abdomen.

 "I asked you a question," he says then, finally giving you a second to rest. But he's not a patient man, nor does he enjoy being interrupted while he's having a meal, so he continues licking long stripes along your inner thighs, delineating the yellow and purple bruises —the hickeys— he marked you with yesterday night. You know he's extremely proud of his work of art, because he stops and kisses every single one of them.

 "No," you lie, because you know that he will have you there all night if you let him, if you give up on his desire of turning this quickie into something more. Although it doesn't look much like a quickie, to be honest. "There's no other showing, so please, Jake. Just fuck me."

 "Shut up," he says, his heavy palm smacking your thigh and you can't help but jump. "You have such a big mouth. I'm trying to get you ready, you ungrateful brat."

 And that's exactly what he does. He separates your lips with his thumbs and sticks his tongue in. You moan, louder this time, feeling the soft edges of his tongue inside of you, and you don't even try to contain any other sound that comes out of your mouth. His tongue gets in every few seconds, licking and lubricating everything in its path. Then licking long stripes, his tongue flat against your clit and rapidly moving to your entrance. Every part of you is now trembling, the shiver that takes hold of your body following his actions is violent, leaving you gasping for air as if you were dying.

 If you needed any preparation —which, with all honesty, you probably did— that is not the case anymore. A mix of his saliva and your own juices is pouring down your thighs, so if you're not ready now, you doubt you will ever be.

 "That's my girl," he says, his accent half-hidden half there. He checks his work with the pad of his fingers, barely touching you but enough to make you whine, desperately asking for something to fill you up because you're just so empty. And you need him to soothe that feeling. "Look at you, all nice and ready for my cock."

 Despite that, he licks you one last time.

 "Fuck-" you cry out loud at the contact. Annoyance is building up in your chest despite his praise. "I swear if I miss one single scene for your horniness-"

 He spanks you then, at last. It's no surprise that he does. After all, it took him long enough with how mouthy you're being with him, but it still catches you off guard. His heavy hand hits your ass without a single warning, and you scream at the contact. This time it does hurt, but it soon fades into pleasure all over your body like a sweet aftertaste to a bitter treat.

 Jake finally takes action. His hands curl around both your wrists and he spreads your arms on the table, so you have no support anymore. Next, he presses the back of your neck against the board, and it turns you on so much, being squeezed below him with such force, that you are gasping again, silently pleading for his cock.

 "I should've shoved myself in that pretty throat of yours," he said. "Maybe then you'd be fucking quiet, for once."

 And you say nothing back, because you know he's perfectly capable of keeping his word: cum in your throat, then leaving the rest of you untouched as a punishment. And you don't think you'd be able to handle that, go through almost three hours without any kind of relief until you get home.

 "Nothing to say now, uh?"

 With otherworldly swiftness, he sheds his jeans. You hear the loud click, the indistinct sound his belt makes when he unbuckles it and gets rid of it. Then the sound of the zipper, loud and clear: it's a warning. And now you know that he's holding it, heavy inside his fist while he strokes himself; precum coating the tip. When you try to look back to have a look, the hand that is still holding your neck tightens on your pressure points and you feel like a deer with its neck between the lion's teeth. All you can focus on is your own wetness. Your hips go backwards in search of friction.

 "So fucking needy," he hisses. "Don't worry princesa. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

 You feel his hand on the back of your knee, but this time he grabs it and scoops you up on the table. With the new position, you're wide open under him. So much so that a blush settles over your cheeks as you feel the cool air on your wet flesh.

 Still, you're not given much time to think.

 He hits your clit with his cock, twice; before entering you with a deep thrust until he bottoms out. His hips are pressed against your butt. Your fingers close around the edge of the table, holding on for dear life. Your nails dig on the wood until you feel splinters falling off.

 He groans.

 "So tight. Always so fucking tight."

 While you try to adjust to the burning, pleasing sensation that has your brain melting; Jake's fingers find the zip of your dress. He unzips it, slowly, revealing the naked skin of your back and no bra in sight. The hand on your nape travels down your back, caressing all skin he can reach, until he touches the skin over your ribs, making you shiver, just to shove his hand under you and catch one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, until you finally scream. Half pleasure, half pain.

 "Such a beautiful sound," he says. "Let's hear it again, shall we?"

 He rolls his hips back, mercilessly thrusting into you with such force that the table moves an inch forward. He keeps your leg on the table, your knee flexed over it. His hand falls on your ass for the second time, a bright red handprint now adorning it. He grabs your flesh, massaging it so he can have a better look at where you two are joined. That’s what it takes him to gasp.

 "Joder.”

 "Jake..." you moan.

 It's like he lost his mind. He starts with a rapid pace, relentless, not even giving you time to build it up as you go. He's holding your hips and not even minding that the screws of the table are doing the weirdest of sounds. He must not even care if he breaks it. He bottoms out with each thrust, every freaking time.

 You've always known that he becomes feral when you moan his name, but it's not like you do it on purpose. You just love the sound of it leaving your mouth, his warmth against you, his perfectly sculpted body, his chest against your back as he leans in to whisper something in your ear.

 "Tell me how it feels."

 Your eyes are squeezed shut, trying to take him as best you can. He slows down, not much, but enough to at least let you breathe, even though he is now squeezed against you. His teeth nibble on your earlobe.

 "Tell me," he encourages you. His fingers brush both your arms lovingly. "Be a good fucking girl and talk to me."

 Another thrust.

 "J-Jake..." you breathe out. Another. "Good. Baby, it feels so fucking good."

 "Tell me how much you love my cock"

 You notice that he's trying to guide the conversation, tell you exactly what he wants to hear because you're too cockdumb for dirty talk.

 "I love your cock so much," you gasp, tears pricking your eyes. "So much... so much..."

 He stops thrusting for a second but doesn't pull out. Quite the opposite, he is as deep in you as it is humanly possible. He chuckles under his breath, leaves a kiss on your spine and you feel him smile against your flesh.

 "My princess cannot even talk, uh?" he says. "Don't worry baby, I got you."

 He takes a handful of your hair in his fist. He pulls your head back, the action earning a loud cry that is soon muffled by a kiss. His other hand rests on your collarbone, making its way up until the pads of his fingers rest over your pulse points. You know he can feel your quick heartbeat under his fingertips.

 His mouth leaves yours, and you're instantly complaining with a whine. Even if he's just one inch away from your lips.

 "Open," he whispers, still holding your neck. You obey, parting your lips, and Jake spits in your mouth. The pleasure makes you clench around him. "Swallow," you follow his orders, and he squeezes your neck so he can feel the muscles moving under his touch. "That's my good girl."

 There's a stupid grin on your face when he says it, warmth in your chest when he pecks your lips as a reward. It's almost impossible to believe how your body can have physical reactions to his words, even without one touch of his. It's ridiculous how much you love to please him. That's usually how the sex with Jake works: he gives you orders, you obey, he calls you his good girl.

 You love it.

 He pulls your head back into the table, returning to the same pace he started with. His cock fills you up to the brim, as if you were the finest glass of wine. You're not even sure you have enough air in your lungs. But you're not scared by that, Jake is so aware of every single sound and movement you make, that if he thinks you need a break, he will give it to you, exactly as he just did a second ago.

 Then, through the maddening cloud of pleasure that has settled in your brain, you hear it. You hear it coming from him.

 "You're so pretty," he says. You instantly feel the lump in your throat. "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

 It's not the first time he says it, of course not. He even said it the first time you met him, even if you didn't believe him at the time. The thing is he has said it before, so you don't understand how you simply shut down like a toy that has run out of batteries, how your body goes limp.

 You don't want to ruin the moment, even if it feels like you're going through an emotional storm all of a sudden. All the memories fill your mind like an avalanche, including every single word at that wedding not long ago.

 That's how you decide that maybe, if you close your eyes, you'll be able to retain the tears long enough for them to fade. So you do, while Jake keeps thrusting into your senseless body. His hand on your hair weakens, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you thank that the position doesn't allow much eye contact.

 But then he says it again.

 "So pretty right now," he says. "Dios (God)," he growls. "I can't believe I got you."

 The lump in your throat doesn't let you breathe, and that's when you burst into tears. You cry, because you never once thought in your life that you’d have someone like him in your life, let alone telling you how pretty you are. You sob and feel so immature right then and there, like a child crying for the silliest reason you could think of. In a desperate attempt at concealing your view from him, you bring one of your hands, the one that is closest, to your face, while the other falls by the edge of the table.

 Jake stops immediately.

 "Baby?" he asks, his voice low and full of concern. "Baby, baby, hey..." his hand barely touches your shoulder, trying to get your attention, but all he feels is the trembling of your body as you cry. He pulls out slowly. "Did I hurt you? Shit, did I hurt you?" his voice turns angry, angry at himself, but he keeps the composure for you. "You should've said the safeword, baby. Please, you have to tell me..."

 By the tone of his voice, the way it breaks on the last word, you know he's barely hanging out of a thread. He caresses the skin of your shoulders. One of his hands tries to uncover your face as you sob. You struggle against him, but he's stronger and once your hand is out of your face, he holds it down, his fingers intertwining with yours.

 "Babe..." he whispers. "Tell me where it hurts. If it's that bad we can go to the hospital, you don't have to be embarrassed..." he says. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've noticed," then you hear him whisper to himself. "Soy un maldito imbécil. (I'm a fucking asshole.)"

 He leans to kiss your shoulder, then he rests his forehead against your warm skin.

 "It's not that," you respond. Your voice is barely a whisper. Tears are still pricking your eyes, some of them still falling down your face. "I'm not hurt."

 That catches his attention. Jake brushes the baby hairs out of your face and now you can see him. Tears are about to spill from his eyes, but he doesn't let them. He's frowning, confused, and his calloused hand rests on your hair.

 "You are not?"

 "I'm sorry I scared you."

 "Oh, nena, (Oh, baby girl)" he says, and leans again to kiss your temple. "Don't say that, don't apologize. Just tell me what's wrong."

 Despite all his attentions and not wanting to keep him worried about you, you hesitate as you look into his deep brown orbs. It's not that you don't want to explain it to him, but you don't know where to start. Where does one start to explain something that has always been present in your life? It's as if someone asked you how you learned to breathe. Well, it was just there.

 Jake patiently waits, until your eyes focus on him and he knows you're not thinking about the matter any longer. The more you think about it, the way you've been treated, all the situations and how worthless they made you feel; the more your eyes fill with unspilled tears.

 "Stay here, okay?"

 You didn't notice he was caressing your back until his touch vanished. Once he's gone, your mind starts to race, to call you names and think way too much about how annoyed Jake must feel for your sudden outburst of emotions. You bring your hands to your face, suddenly overwhelmed by the mess you've made.

 You stand on the floor, and it's not until then that you feel the pain in your hips, exactly where they hit the table with each of Jake's thrusts. The soreness is so familiar that you can already see the bruises that will mark your skin tomorrow.

 "I'm such a fucking idiot," you press your palms against your face, angry that you couldn't just keep yourself quiet.

 Jake comes back from the bathroom with a wet cloth and he doesn't say a word before kneeling right in front of you. You spread your legs to give him access, wondering what you did to deserve such a kind man.

 He cleans you up. The cloth is drenched in warm water. He cleans you thoroughly, with a care and gentleness you rarely see in his actions. You hold the skirt of your dress up to let him work, and he looks up at you just once, his eyes as big as a puppy's, just before he leans down and kisses one of the hickeys on your thighs. Once he's done, he takes your panties and pulls them up your legs, as if he had never touched you.

 "Thank you," you whisper once he's standing back on his feet.

 Jake shakes his head and brings you closer. He hugs you, your chin resting on his collarbone as he pulls your hair over your shoulder so he can zip the dress up.

 "All ready," he says, still holding you. His hand rests on the back of your head. "Come on."

 He takes you to the couch, where he sits first just to drag your body over his lap. Once you're sat, he surrounds your back with his arm as you hug him. Your forehead resting against his. Jake closes his eyes and breathes in your essence.

 At first, you don't know where to start, and the first few sentences don't feel quite right either. However, he doesn't flinch, so you keep going and all of sudden you can't stop. You start with the wedding, telling him about your group of friends even though he has already met some of them. You explain the whole situation as you look for a reaction on his face. Annoyance, probably, because you didn't let him finish for something that happened right before you met him; or disappointment; because he expected something much more serious than something along the lines of 'I was never told what you just said to me'.

 Then you explain the situations you saw yourself in. You tell him about the pain and the hurt hoping he understands, about the disrespect too. You tell him about all the times you were straight-up ignored, about the guys that only approached you to keep you busy while their friends flirted with your friend and they wouldn't even talk to you. You talk about being called a prude, people insulting your appearance and your hobbies, calling you weird. You tell him about that constant feeling you had, not feeling enough or loveable, just a laughing stock for both strangers and every single one of your friends. Maybe the very last option on someone's table, in the best of cases.

 That's when he shakes his head.

 "Half the time I feel so lucky to have you," you say, tears still staining your face. "That I wonder if you're real. When you kiss me, I remember how I used to think I'd never be able to show my love to anyone."

 "Oh, nena," he whispers. You can see the pained expression on his face. "I'm so sorry all of that happened to you." you can see the struggle in his eyes. He's looking for the right words to comfort you. He’s never been good with words. "But I'm here now. And I assure you, I'm gonna give you all you deserve, and all the experiences you never had. All of them are wrong, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's their fucking problem if they cannot see that."

 He holds you close, speaks over your hair.

 "You're wrong, you're not unloveable. And you will never be alone again," he says. "I'm gonna tell you how pretty you are until the day I kick the bucket, I swear to God."

 "Jake," you pull away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "Don't say that."

 "But I mean it," he insists. Then, he squints. "I'd like to see any of those fuckers that mistreated you and..."

 "Oh, stop," you chuckle.

 "Yeah, yeah, I stop, but you tell me if by any chance we run into any of them..."

 "So you can choke them to death? Yeah, maybe I will," you respond, and his shoulders relax, glad about your answer. "Not sure if I should be concerned about how serious you are right now."

 Jake chuckles, and you end up laughing too. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you, and he keeps stroking your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

 "Te quiero, preciosa (I love you, gorgeous)," he says. And even though your Spanish is very limited, you understand those words, because he has said them plenty of times before. "Come here."

 Gently taking your chin, he guides you to his mouth. He pecks your lips at first, right before his other hand falls on the back of your head and pushes you against him. His lips part, his tongue gently licks your own. He makes you moan. His forehead rests against your collarbone when he's done. He breathes in through the nose, as if he could swallow you whole just by inhaling you.

 "So... are you not angry at me?" you ask.

 "Why would I be?"

 "Because I ruined our moment."

 "No, you didn't," he says. He kisses your shoulder. "We needed to talk about this, we already did. We fuck all the time, we can finish that up later," he said. "My moments with you are always special, whether we are just talking, not doing anything at all, or fucking like rabbits."

 You chuckle again.

 "My God Jake, your mouth."

 "What about it?" he laughs.

 You shake your head and hide your face on his neck. A blush has settled on your features and you're not ready for Jake to tease you about it.

 "I love you too, by the way," you tell him. "I love you so much."

 He lets out a content sigh, his body sinking into the couch as he lets his head fall on the backrest.

 "My pretty girl," his fingers are doing circles on your back. His scent is intoxicating. Your eyelids are starting to drop. "You're safe here. No one can hurt you now."

 His own eyes fall shut as he starts drifting off too.

Tags:  @later-gators12 @bensolosbluesaber @winter-captain-01 @dark-haired-and-mentally-ill​ @mirrorballgarden​ @zem0laufeys0n @murdickdocked @loki-hargreeves​

Want to be tagged?

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley smut #jake lockley #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley x you #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac x reader #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x you #steven grant x fem!reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/25/2024

Nerdie! You saw it right! He won! *hugs tightly*

Yes he did! 🥰 We're all so happy for him! Finally!

We're also buzzing about how he looks like he's on the cover of a romance novel. Maybe on a ranch, maybe in the 1800's. It's a pretty versatile look. He likes his deep V's....

As we all should. Also, I'm taking notes on that. *scribbles*

Anything new besides, well clearly pirate adventures?

Pirates have scurvy and Pedro is well nourished so none of that. Other ideas for his characters. Ezra and Pero might have scurvy though. I did manage to write some this week. It's been busy. 👀 Ugh...real life stuff. Nothing major. Just needs to be done.

Nerdie's fics:

Guiding Light (Ezra one shot - I was chatting with @lady-bess and had the idea for this. I always have Ezra in some crime. 😎)

Lunch is happening right? (Part two of my summer romance Javi G fic. Not sure how many parts.)

He told me his name (Din Djarin x plus size female reader) I wrote it after reading a new Din fic by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (will be listed below. I'd still call it moody because despite writing, I still have trouble with my vocabulary. 🤣 It is pretty though. I'm working on a follow-up since people asked 👀)

Can't win carino (Javi G one shot - for @i-own-loki because she gave me the idea and the moodboard so I ran with it.)

The Man Next Door (Jake Lockley one shot for @megamindsecretlair because she kinda asked, more like I asked her what she wanted in it. She asked for action and smut. I might try more action in fics later.)

Get a room you two and BONE (Part two of my Tim Rockford comedy series which now has romance? I binged too much B99, watched a bit of Castle and a few episodes of Kojak with my mom. The insanity will only increase with part three but maybe there might be some growth between Tim and Doc? Or a hippo.)

Nerdie I thought you said you were busy....that's six fics...

I was and some of them I had been working on for a while. I also had some insomnia (that lead to parts two and three of the Tim Rockford fic). Anyway, on to the main event! 😘

Nerdie's fic recommendations! or things I read this week. 😄

14 x kisses by @trulybetty (Jack Daniels x reader) Part of her 29 days of valentines for February.

Sorgan Girls Are Easy - Solo Din Djarin by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (the fic that inspired my Din - her Din has 100% more smut)

Half of you - chapter 3 by @foxilayde (Santiago Garcia x fem. reader) Slow burn series - love it and trying to read it slowly to savor it.

Falling for you by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi Pena x fem reader) A bittersweet read that had me wonder what was next but I was hopeful.

Sunday Naps by @javierpena-inatacvest (Frankie Morales x fem reader) More proof that cuddling with Frankie leads to wonderful things.

Poe Dameron falling in love with his shy best friend (GN reader) by @i-belong-to-the-stars What one hopes for if you're shy and you're in love with those curls...er Poe. 🫣

Mystery Strain by @rebel-held (Dieter Bravo x GN reader) All kinks are valid and who doesn't love Dieter with a belly? 😘

Bulletproof by @laurfilijames (Jax Teller x fem reader) She wrote poetic porn with feelings. I was overcome, titllated and confused.

A girl walks into a bookshop by @oonajaeadira (Ezra x fem reader) Soft Ezra with a bookshop, yes please! 😄

Beneath the mask by @saradika (Din Djarin x fem reader) A medieval knight Din...so where does one pick up the velvet dress?

Loneliness by @sirowsky (Pero Tovar x GN reader) Pondering Pero in your local Park? Highly recommended for Valentine's Day.

15 x cashmere by @trulybetty (Joel Miller x GN reader) What thread count was it that encouraged Joel to hop in bed in such a state? For my personal file. 👀

He sees you by @maggiemayhemnj (Joel Miller x reader) This writer will tell you she just loves words. I would argue that the words love her in a unique way that makes you see the things. 💜

16 x dance by @trulybetty (Tim Rockford x reader) I pictured him dancing with the reader in his trench coat. @secretelephanttattoo (El) is to the holsters as I am to the trench coat. 🤣 In my mind.

Quiet Moments Collection by @secretelephanttattoo (various Pedro characters x reader) It’s the small instances that you think don’t matter, that are the most meaningful.

Plus One by @always-andromeda (Frankie Morales x fem reader) Always a fan of two idiots in love, even with their spat.

A Strange Fate by @youandmeand5bucks (Silva x fem reader) Two people who came together because of life circumtances. Are they really satisfied?

A Beskar Valentine by @firstofficerwiggles (Din Djarin x female reader) Awesome username, it makes me giggle. Din will be ten steps ahead and still fifteen behind when it comes to matters of the heart. My guy is an overthinking champion.

Seven by @lokischocolatefountain (Javier Pena x reader) A simple discussion about children leads Javier to a drastic solution.

To be Explored Later by @legendary-pink-dot (Frankie Morales x fem reader x Santiago Garcia) aka Ms. Curls if ya nasty! 😘 Somehow I missed the gem of a sandwich. How the reader was able to think about anything is beyond me.

Red Light Glow by @missredherring (Lucian Flores x fem reader) This man has me and @rhoorl keeping track of his silk shirt and gold chain. We would accept his call. The guilt would go away too quickly if we felt it at all. 😌

Incarnadine by @iamskyereads (Pero Tovar x fem reader) This Pero has me swoon with his care toward the reader, his love of baths (I just want him to soak and relax - he's been earning coin!), and his word choice. This is another person that words appear to favor. 💜

Not like I fangirled over these writers this week or anything 👀

What on the docket for this week Nerdie?

Part three of the Javi G summer romance

Maybe...Roc & Doc part three I don't like sitting on finished parts but then I whine about having no motivation for the next part. 👀 I make no sense.

March is toward the end of the week so my March Spring Prompts will start! I scheduled the first six days I think. I got anxious about getting behind (which isn't the point of doing them but anxiety doesn't care) and did some in advance. I like how they're coming along and that they're short. Unlike this update. 🤣 They won't have summaries, but will have warnings, tags and notes.

And because I hear series and I think "I should start another one!" I decided to write an Ezra series. How did I happen upon our favorites prospector/scoundrel/reluctant father figure? I've been reading works by @morallyinept @maggiemayhemnj and @magpiepills

Ezra intimidated me because of his language, but actually, I think I'd get along with him because he puts on a persona with a great deal of performance. It's the audience's job to figure out if you're serious or not. Or at least that's how I approached him. 🤨 This could go badly. I stuck him on the bayou with an air boat and I want him to cook gumbo. *full delusional achievement unlocked*

Special shout-outs to @connectioneverywhere and @soft-girl-musings for sending me lovely asks this week.

Also to @inept-the-magnificent who called Tim Rockford her sidepiece and I am still very tickled. 🤣

This update was long 🤗 Hehe

Love Nerdie ❤️

#weekend update #Nerdie #Nerdie's update #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #joel miller #frankie morales #dieter bravo #the mandalorian #nerdie fic rec #pero tovar lovers unite! #pero tovar #ezra prospect #Ezra #jax teller #javier peña #javier gutierrez #tim rockford #jack daniels #Lucian Flores

[mrs-lockley]

Reach for the Moon | I. The Breaking

PAIRINGS: (Slow Burn, Romantic) Jake Lockley x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, (Platonic) Steven Grant x Southeast Asian!Fem Reader, (Unrequited) Marc Spector x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, no physical description of the reader

WARNINGS: Unrequited love (Reader is in love with Marc, Marc is oblivious but means well), first love and heartbreak, Reader knows limited Spanish, italics in dialogue indicates Reader and her parents speaking a foreign language (unspecified), mentions of divorce and a brief mention of the military 

WORD COUNT: 7.5k

SERIES SUMMARY: Inspired by the 1954 film & 1995 remake of Sabrina, No Moon Knight AU. 

To heal your broken heart from your unrequited crush on Marc Spector, your family sends you to Singapore to help establish your cousin’s bakery. You return to New York two years later as a more confident woman, but you find yourself picking up the pieces of your broken heart (again) after seeing Marc still holding onto his first love. Sensing the pain and heartbreak between you and Marc, Jake steps in as a white knight to create distance to help both of you heal, but he was never supposed to fall in love with you. 

Author's Note: Many thanks to @soft-girl-musings, @v4mpires0ap, @callingmrsbarnes for supporting me with this fic. It's been a long time coming 🤍 Special thanks to @flightlessangelwings for your guidance and advice on making writing more inclusive! Today is my birthday, and I wanted to share this to my dear friends who never gave up on me when I gave up on writing.

Tagging (but no pressure to read!): @writefightandflightclub @venting402 @musing-magpie @themarcusmoreno

THE BREAKING

You remembered your last night in New York— it was near the end of summer when you were set to leave to help your cousin establish her bakery in Singapore. While your friends and family were excited for your new adventure abroad, you had run away, letting your feet guide you to an all too familiar apartment building before you collapsed on the steps. Your heart was filled with dread, splintering into two like an old tree bending to the howling winds of sorrow and heartbreak. 

How foolish you were, you thought to yourself as you sobbed on the steps, your face buried in your hands as the tears continued to pour out of you. Your heart held no contempt for your cousin or the beautiful country of Singapore; you loved your cousin dearly and always wanted to visit her there, but living in Singapore for two years would mean leaving him behind.

Marc Spector, the man you loved for so many years. The man who didn’t even know you existed, the man who didn’t love you back. 

He was beautiful, handsome. Dark brown eyes and curly black hair, strong brows and the whisper of a five o’clock shadow kissing his jaw and cheeks. A smooth voice with a bit of a drawl that you found comforting and uniquely Marc. Broad, wide shoulders and sun-kissed tan skin, it did not take long for you to fall in love with him.

Like scenes from an old film, you replayed your cherished memories of him in your mind. His nose scrunching when laughing at one of your jokes, his proud smile when you showed him your college degree, his gentle lips on your forehead as he comforted you after a rough night. 

As much as you love him, shards of guilt tore through you. Deep down, you knew he was still reeling from his divorce, and that he still harbored feelings for his ex-wife. A few nights after the two of you had too much to drink, Marc would recount the memories he shared with her that were near and dear to his heart. Each time he mentioned her name, daggers were impaled through you. How could you let yourself fall for someone who only saw you as a friend and still had feelings for their first love? 

You had set yourself for heartbreak, and you had no one to blame but yourself as you tried to pick up the pieces and forget your feelings for him. Perhaps living in Singapore for two years would be for the best. You would make yourself forget about him and the distance would ease the pain and remedy the inevitable heartbreak that was soon to follow.

Before you could draft a plan, a pair of dark boots appeared in front of you, followed by the sound of a familiar voice calling your name in concern.

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“What are you doing out here so late? What’s wrong?”

You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your wrists as you hastily wiped your tears, using your sleeves as a makeshift tissue. “I’m fine, Jake. I just got lost in my head, please do not worry about me.”

Your lips quivered and your voice trembled as soon as you spoke, a sob threatening to escape from your throat as another wave of tears pricked the corners of your eyes. How silly of you to fall apart on the steps outside of his apartment building- have you no shame?

To your surprise, a thin cloth was offered to you, pulling you out of your thoughts before you could spiral into self-degradation and pity. Hesitantly, you looked up at him to find his brown eyes softening in empathy. When you didn’t accept the kerchief right away, he gently gestured it towards you again, urging you to take it.

With a quiet thank you, you accepted it, dabbing your eyes and steadying your breathing as you heard him take a seat on the steps beside you.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, but kept your gaze fixed on the cloth in your hands. Even though Marc and Jake shared the same face, Jake was different. You couldn’t bear to look at him— one look, and he would see right through you.

Instead of answering him, you observed the scene in front of you. Across the street, two lovers exchanged sweet words and loving promises. Down the sidewalk, children screamed as they chased each other down the block. Cars, buses, and taxis drove by in a blur with only their flickering tail lights indicating their passing presence. You thought back to the nights you spent with Marc, your arm linked with his as he walked you home after you finished your night classes at the university. He would listen as you vented about the assignments your professors piled on you in the middle of midterms and other projects with similar deadlines. 

“We’re proud of you, you know,” Marc said once you finished crossing the street. “Going to school to get your degree. I went straight into the Marines after high school and was discharged after …”

His voice trailed off, but you caught the stony expression on his face and the darkness that clouded his eyes. Your heart began to ache. 

“I’m proud of you, too,” you nudged him lightly. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here. I think that’s something worthy and important to celebrate.”

You grinned as you watched a smile form on his lips. How rare it was to see Marc smile, but how sweet it was to be the reason behind it.

After a moment, you answered him. 

“I’m just sensitive, that’s all.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute as you both listened to the bustling sounds of the city. That was the thing about Jake Lockley– his actions spoke louder than words, and him sitting here with you, letting you cry and stain his handkerchief with your eyeliner and mascara was enough to pull you out of your downward spiral. 

“That may be true,” Jake hummed from beside you, “but it’s okay to be sensitive. It means that you care and feel things deeply.”

Perhaps a little too deeply, you mused as you folded his handkerchief. It was your parents’ idea for you to live in the Lion City for two years as a way for you to not only apply what you learned in college to the real world, but to keep you away from Marc. 

“You need to forget about him. Pining after him will do you no good,” your father lectured one evening after Marc dropped you off at home. “He does nothing but bring you heartache.”

“He is a good man, Papa,” you reasoned. 

Your mother sighed as she pulled you onto the couch to sit between her and your father. “We never said he was a bad person, my child. But we don’t want to see you heartbroken over him. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love with someone else.”

Suppose they have a point, you reckoned. All your life, you fantasized about falling hopelessly in love with someone and that they would reciprocate your feelings in return, but life is not as colorful and sweet as the romantic novels you read. 

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you weren’t supposed to have feelings for?” You asked quietly. 

Jake smiled softly, but you caught the pain in his voice as he spoke. “A long time ago, yes.”

You were not close friends with Jake, not to the same level as you were with Marc and Steven. With Jake, he was more private. Much like the cabbie that he was, it often felt like there was a window between the two of you. He was in the front seat, but you were in the back seat, only seeing rare glimpses of him through the window in between.

His brown eyes fell on yours, and he raised a curious, but amused, eyebrow at you. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, your cheeks growing warm. “I don’t know you as well as I know Marc and Steven, so it’s a little strange for me to picture you as a man who was madly in love. You are always so quiet.”

To your surprise, Jake laughed, and you could not help but laugh along with him as you noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. It was not often you heard him laugh, but it was a delightful sound that you wanted to hear again. 

“You’re a funny girl,” he chuckled, but you were not offended by his words. “But you do have a point. How about this? I’ll promise to show more of myself when you return from Singapore?”

You smiled at him as he extended his gloved hand to you. “I’d like that very much.” 

His smile was kind in return as he shook your hand. Then, he stood, gently helping you up from where you were seated on the dusty steps. 

“It’s getting late, conejita (little bunny), let me drive you home before your parents worry about you.”

You could not help but chuckle at the nickname he had given you as you followed him, barely catching the fond smile on his face as he helped you down the steps. Your tears had dried by then, your heart a little bit lighter while he guided you to his car. 

Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you, making sure you had your seatbelt on before heading to the other side. Inside, everything was uniquely Jake with the smell of leather and his cologne, the seats spacious and free of clutter. As he turned on the engine, the comforting melody of a Spanish love ballad played from the speakers, and you slowly closed your eyes.

The first few nights in Singapore were rough. You were miserable and heartbroken as you absentmindedly helped your aunt, uncle, and cousin clean up the new shop. Concerned as they were, they insisted that you rest, convinced you were exhausted from the jet lag and adjustment to the new time change. Of course, you should have known better that they would contact your parents. Not wanting to keep secrets, they told them about your unrequited crush on “a handsome boy back home,” and that you were heartbroken that he could not tell you goodbye. 

The first few months, you wrote various letters to Steven. From tourist postcards to long handwritten letters, you poured your thoughts, feelings, and emotions into the letters, hoping that your best friend would offer you some solace and healing to your heartache. 

I have never fallen in love so deeply, not even when I was a teenager. Isn’t it childish? My parents were worried, and now my aunt, uncle, and cousin fear I may not be helpful in establishing their bakery because of my “broken heart.” Growing up, I wanted to fall in love like in the movies, but I never expected it to be this painful and tragic. You would think that a smart girl like me would have fallen in love with someone else. Instead, I fell for a man who is still in love with his first love. I might as well be reaching for the moon. 

It would take weeks, sometimes a couple months before your letter would reach him. You would anxiously check the mail each day, hoping for comfort from him. When you finally received his letter, you excused yourself to the kitchen where you sat with your face covered in flour, your apron already painted in various colors from testing different icings as you unfolded his letter. 

You are still young, and you will find love again. The first love is always so painful, but do not fret, love. Have you forgotten? We already built rockets to reach the moon. It is a matter of finding the one that gravity pulls you to. 

You cherished each letter you wrote him. Even in today’s digital age, you and Steven preferred pen, wrinkled papers, and postage stamps. You would collect the most colorful and vibrant postcards to send to Steven so he could add it to his collection, and you could not help but smile when he sent a picture of all your postcards taped to Gus’ fish tank.  It felt a bit old-fashioned to wait months for a letter overseas, but more intimate as you shared stories and memories with each other.

The first few months were a bit painful, but as it turned into a year, your heart did not ache as much as when you left New York. Your cousin’s bakery took off during the first year, and soared to higher heights in the second with lines trailing out the door, but you were quick on your feet to bring out all the delectable treats and desserts that the city loved. One eventful night, your cousin brought you with her college friends to the local bar to celebrate, and you forgot that Marc broke your heart as you both sang to your favorite songs until your lungs ached and your throat ran dry. 

You stumbled into the kitchen that night with your cousin, the two of you giggling as your aunt and uncle merely laughed at how affectionate the two of you were with each other. You quickly ran to your room to pull out a pen, your body filled with warmth as you sat at your bedroom window with your cousin’s cat curled at your feet. 

Oh Steven, I haven’t felt this happy since leaving New York. I just got back from the karaoke bar with my cousin, and although I might be a little tipsy, I’ve learnt so many things here in Singapore. The night is young, but rich with dreams, wishes, and hope as I write underneath a full moon. Come what may, my heart will be open to new possibilities and adventures, for I am not the same person as I was yesterday. And before I forget, don’t tell my parents that I will be coming home a few weeks early; I want to surprise them, and I want to surprise you with how much I have grown. I would like to think I am not the same college girl who left with a broken heart, because I will return as a hopeful young woman who still dares to dream.

Before you knew it, you were packing your things and ready to return home. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin embraced you tightly with tearful smiles as they dropped you off at the airport, and soon, you were flying through the clouds. Your heart fluttered in excitement at seeing your family and friends again, and for once, you were not too worried about facing him again. You remained hopeful as you reminded yourself of how far you’ve come as you carried your dreams with you. 

But perhaps you spoke too soon. 

You called Steven a few nights before to plan for your arrival. Steven promised that he would pick you up at the JFK airport, but as you made it down the escalator, your heart nearly stopped. Waiting at the bottom was Marc Spector, holding up a sign with your name and a bouquet of flowers. His face is partially hidden by the shadow of his cap, but you could see the growing smile on his face as you approached. 

“I know you were expecting Steven,” he explains as you stop in front of him, “but he remembered he can’t drive, so I offered to step in-”

Your heart swells as you take him in. It has been two years since you saw him last. You did not keep in touch with Marc as closely as you did with Steven, but seeing him hold a sign with flowers for you, you suddenly feel like that college girl again. 

Before he could finish his sentence, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“Thank you for coming for me,” you whisper. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Your heart skips a beat as he returns your embrace. With your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. His arms are as strong as you remembered him, and the scent of his cologne brings you back to those nights he would pick you up after class to walk you home. 

“It’s good to see you. We missed you.”

You ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as he pulls away. He looks down at you, and you could not help but smile at the warmth and softness in his brown eyes.

“I almost didn’t recognize you. You look different.” 

“Different?”

Marc smiles softly. He smoothes a loose strand of your hair, and you pray in that moment that he did not feel the sudden heat rising to your cheeks from the contact.

“A good kind of different,” he answers, “you’re glowing.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy at his words. It was true- you were a different woman now, and you were not the same college girl with an unrequited crush on her friend. 

But in that moment, it seems all you could think about is his gentle smile. If you weren’t careful enough, you would slowly turn back into that lovesick girl. 

Before you delve too deep into your thoughts, Marc smiles fondly at you again as he hands you the bouquet.

“Let me get your things, and then I can take you home.”

You smile at him as he gathers your belongings. As you follow him out of the terminal, your fingers absentmindedly trace the soft petals of the daffodils. They are a soft white and delicate between your fingertips, and you are already thinking about what vase to use and where to put it in your bedroom once you get home. 

The ride home was quiet, and as much as you wanted to ask him about everything that you missed in the past two years, you were exhausted from your trip. It took some time, but Marc was able to persuade you to sleep, only lightly tapping your shoulder to wake you when he pulled up to your parents’ driveway. It was after dinner when you saw their silhouettes moving across the kitchen, and you could not wait to surprise them with your early arrival. 

And surprised they were. Screams of joy and laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood as your family embraced you with overjoyed tears streaming down their cheeks. Much to your surprise, they were civil with Marc as he and your father helped bring your suitcases in, even offering that he could stay for some coffee before he politely declined. Whether he knew that your parents did not favor him as much compared to Steven, you didn’t know, but you were happy that he brought you home. 

As he walks out the front door, you excuse yourself and call his name as you quickly follow after him. 

“Thank you again for picking me up and taking me home,” you tell him as he turns around. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”

He smiles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. “Anytime, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

You smile shyly. This wasn’t the first time he brought you home, and it reminded you of the nights he would pick you up or walk you home after class. Just like old times.

Your mind was reeling, your heart soaring as you placed the bouquet of daffodils on your desk. Despite your parent’s disapproval (and much to your dismay, too), all the feelings you thought you moved on from Marc quickly resurfaced after seeing him again. You did your best to not think about him too much while you were in Singapore, but seeing him smile at you and having him take you home, you could feel yourself falling for him all over again. 

It took a couple weeks to adjust to being back in New York, but it was wonderful to be home. You told your parents everything about your time in Singapore and the success of your cousin’s business. Every now and then, you would call her, your aunt, and uncle to see how popular their bakery became since you left. In the background of your video calls, you would see your uncle tending to a customer in the front, or your aunt reloading a tray of green tea mochi in their display case. You missed the hustle and bustle of Singapore, but you were glad to be in the familiarity of the Big Apple with your friends and family again. 

Steven met with you first after you settled back into your routine. It was a Thursday afternoon as the two of you sat in your living room and exchanged gifts. You beamed at all the stories and anecdotes he shared with you. 

“That’s amazing!” You told him. The two of you were cross-legged on the floor as you poured him another cup of tea. “I just know the kids are going to love having you as a tour guide in the King Tut exhibit at the Smithsonian.”

Your best friend grinned, a soft red dusting his smiling cheeks. “You think so? I start on Monday. I’m so nervous! I don’t want to mess it up or bore them with all the details, but you know how much I love Ancient Egypt.”

“You’re going to do great. You make history sound so fascinating and entertaining.” You smiled reassuringly at him. “I missed hearing all your stories while I was in Singapore.”

“Well, that just means I have to do some more research for you to get you up to speed,” Steven countered, and the two of you laughed. “I’m so happy that you’re back and that I get to meet with you again. We missed you so much.”

Once again, your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Marc missing you. But you quickly dismissed the thought as soon as it came— you and Marc were friends beforehand, after all. You already spent two years away from him, surely you should have gotten a grip over your unrequited crush on a man who had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. 

Your face must have fallen. Before you caught yourself, you found Steven’s brown eyes washing over you with concern. “You know, love, Marc told me he missed you too. I know you didn’t keep in touch with him frequently like you did with me. Are you doing okay?”

You swallowed hard as the other shoe dropped. As much as you hated to admit, it was true. Compared to the handwritten letters and postcards you sent Steven, your communication with Marc paled in comparison. You reasoned with yourself that the distance would do you good, and the only times you shared any correspondence with him were through some texts and pictures you sent via email. Like Marc, you did not have much social media, and you preferred to keep your private life private. But in the texts you both shared, they were straight-forward. You knew Marc was not fond of communicating through texts, and it was difficult to keep track of when he fronted with the time differences between New York and Singapore. Naturally, he fell through the cracks. 

It’s been a few weeks since you saw Marc, and the last time you spoke with him was when he took you home after picking you up at the airport. You weren’t avoiding him, but you also did not trust yourself around him. One look at him, and all the feelings you tried to repress would suddenly rush to the surface. 

“Does he know?” You asked, your voice quiet and hesitant. “About my feelings for him?”

You watched as Steven’s eyes softened. Whether your best friend was telling the truth, or telling you what you needed to hear to avoid hurting you, you did not know.  

“No, he doesn’t.”

You nodded, but kept your gaze on your mournful expression looking up at you through your reflection on the glossy surface. The mug grew cold in your hands, and you no longer felt the warmth and comfort of your favorite tea. 

Sensing the change in demeanor, you heard Steven clear his throat and set his mug on the table. Pulling you out of your thoughts, you glanced over at him to see a sheepish smile on his lips, his curls slightly askew. 

“If you don’t mind, can I practice my first tour with you? I have my speeches ready, and I think I need to get you caught up on what you missed.”

You vaguely felt the sting in your cheeks as you smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to hear it. Tell me everything.”

As Steven practiced his first speech and tour with you, thoughts of Marc began to fade away. All you could do was smile as you listened to your friend recite the great history of ancient civilizations over your favorite cup of tea. Your heart ached as the afternoon bled into the evening, but it was not as painful as it was before. Things were different now— you were different— as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had to move on, for your sake.

The days went by slowly, and soon it was summer. You smiled as the sun shined longer and the nights grew shorter, painting the sky vibrant hues of golds, oranges, and reds like a sparkling fire. You did not see Steven as often once he started his museum tours, but you always smiled at his texts. 

It was a Thursday morning when you were at home when you heard your phone chime from across the room. Expecting it to be Steven gushing about his latest tour to elementary school children, you picked up your phone without a second thought, only for your heart to stop. Marc.

You did not mean to ignore him, but your communication with him was limited in the months you returned. It was for the best, you reasoned with yourself. The distance would do you good, and for a while, you truly believed that you moved on from your unrequited crush on your friend. But just a simple text and call of his name brought you back to the sleepless nights of staining your pillow with tears. 

The rushing sound of your beating heart echoed in your ears as your fingers over the text. You couldn’t ignore him forever. He was your friend first, your heartbreak second. 

Which led you to wearing your favorite dress with your arm linked through his as the two of you walked through the busy town square of a night market. Much to your parents (and Steven’s) concern, you agreed to meet with him. 

“I haven’t talked to him since I left for Singapore,” you argued with your parents over dinner. “He was my friend first. I can’t ignore him forever.”

And honestly, you couldn’t, even if you tried. Marc was too observant, and the last thing you wanted was for him to think he hurt you. Even if your heart was breaking.

“I’m sure the food was better back in Singapore, but I thought that I could bring a part of it to you.”

You laugh softly as Marc turns to you. Seeing there was an Asian street food market in town that weekend, Marc invited you to come along. It was a way for you two to catch up since you had yet to have a full and proper conversation with him since you returned home. It was casual enough, and surely, no harm could be done. 

“It’s still home,” you assure him, and your heart swells as he smiles at you. 

How could you hate him when he still brought you joy?

“I researched what I could, but I’ll need your opinion since you’re the expert,” he teases, and you laugh again. “There’s so many choices, it’s almost overwhelming. Where do I start?”

You look around at the different vendors, booths, and trucks around the square. Even at this hour, there are so many people trying new things and enjoying the night. There really is no place like home. 

“I’ll show you one of my favorites,” you tell him. “Have you had mochi donuts before?”

“It will be my first time,” Marc smiles at you, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as he extends his arm to you. “Show me.”

With a pounding heart, you link your arm through his as you guide him to the booth. Thankfully the line was not long, and you had food to temporarily distract you from the emotions rising to the surface. 

The conversation began to flow into a steady rhythm as the night continued on. Two years have passed since you last stood by his side, but tonight, the memories gathered in your mind as if it were only yesterday. You found yourself laughing over the shenanigans that Marc and Steven found themselves in while you were gone, and in return, you shared stories of creating recipes and painting the town red with your cousin and her friends on sleepless nights. 

For a little while, you fooled yourself into thinking it was the two of you, just like old times. 

You sit on a bench as the night draws to a close. With his jacket around your shoulders, it takes everything in you to not pull it closer towards yourself. It may not mean nothing to him, but it means everything to you.

Across the promenade, a local college band begins to play as the strings of their guitar tunes out the noise of your beating heart. If you listen long enough, you would not have to hear your heart ache. 

After a moment, Marc takes a shaky breath beside you, his dark brows furrowed. “Can I ask you something?”

You turn to face him. “Anything.”

You watch as a soft smile spreads across his lips, but you know him long enough to know that it did not reach his eyes. 

“You’ve been different since Singapore,” he begins, and you swallow hard, fearing his next words. “You’ve been distant. Things just aren’t the same or what it used to be. I need to know—”

Your breath catches in your throat as he turns to look at you. His brown eyes were dark, filled with emotion that he seldom showed. 

“Was it something I did?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Have I hurt you?”

Marc Spector was many things— observant, perceptive— but a heartbreaker? A heartbreaker was not one of them, even if he held your broken one in the palm of his hands.

“No, Marc—” you swallow the growing ache in your chest as you reach for him. “Please don’t ever think that. You did nothing wrong.” Gently, you squeeze his hands to comfort him. 

You could not lie to him. You could not hurt him, not when he was like this. 

“Things may be different, but I haven’t changed. Not really.”

But you have, in your own way. You would like to believe you have changed and grown into a young woman, but as you smiled at him, you wondered how much you really changed when your heart fluttered at his smile. 

“You seem more grown up,” he whispers softly as he smoothes a strand of your hair. “Don’t grow up so fast that you don’t need me, kid.”

You blink, ignoring the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes at his words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

With a comforting smile, he stretches his arm and places it around your shoulders to pull you close as his lips gently place a soft kiss on your forehead. Your heart skips a beat from his touch as the scent of his cologne envelopes you. It is so tempting to close your eyes and fall deeper into his embrace, but you fight against the heartstrings being tugged at your heart. 

In the promenade, the band transitions to a softer, romantic song with a few slow strokes of an acoustic guitar. One by one, couples gather with their partners to sway and dance along. A soft smile graces your lips as you recognize the tune. 

“This is one of my favorite Hozier songs,” you remark fondly as you remembered discovering his music for the first time. “Do you like his music—”

You look over at your friend, but stop. It was as if he was frozen in time, eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost. 

“Marc?”

He did not answer. He remains frozen, paralyzed and rooted to the spot as if he was ensnared by invisible hands. You call out to him again as you grasp his hands in yours, trying to bring him back to reality. 

Finally, his eyes meet yours, filled with nothing but pain and sorrow. 

“This song—” he stammers, his voice hoarse. His gaze flickers between you and the band as the couples in the courtyard embrace one another to the lyrics. “This song was played at my wedding.” 

Your heart sinks as you realize the significance. Layla. 

“It was your song,” you breathe as the pain in your heart begins to splinter deep inside, tearing it in two. How insensitive of you to think that he was over his first love. 

As if he was burned, Marc pulls away from you. He turns his head away, his voice low and trembling as he speaks. 

“I’m sorry, kid, but please excuse me—”

Before you could say a word, he was already walking away, leaving you alone at the bench with his jacket around your shoulders. 

Slowly, you pull your hands toward yourself. The tears that threatened you from before finally had the chance to fall, staining your cheeks with heartbreak and woe. Your heart twists as you watch the couples cradle each other as if they would fall apart without their touch. You were foolish to think that could be you and Marc one day. How could you fault him for still being in love with his first love when you still had feelings for him?

You should have said no, you scold yourself as you pull his jacket tighter around you, trying to comfort yourself with the lingering scent of his cologne and imagining that he was holding you in his arms. Tonight was a mistake, and you should have kept your distance from him. You should have listened to your parents and Steven’s words of caution, but here you were, crying alone on a bench. 

Marc saw you as nothing more than a younger sister. He was never yours. 

As you wipe the stray tears on your cheeks, you are pulled from your thoughts by a familiar handkerchief crossing your line of vision. 

Stunned, you look up and find a pair of deep brown eyes washing over you in concern. He shares the same face, but you know the difference. 

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t spend her evening shedding tears, conejita.”

A dry laugh escapes your lips as you accept the handkerchief. As you brush away your tears, he takes a seat beside you and whistles a low tune. 

“Marc,” you clear your throat, trying to control the wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine, he just needs some time,” Jake answers. He looks over at you with a sympathetic gaze. “I’m sorry he walked away.”

You shrug as you look down, your fingers twisting the ends of his handkerchief to numb the heartache. Even when it hurt, you could not find it in yourself to be upset with him. 

You echo his words. “I’ll be fine.”

He clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. 

“We can’t have that,” he reasons as he stands and offers his hand to you with a gentle smile. “Let’s end the night on a good note.”

You ponder his words as you look up at him. Jake shares the same face as your best friends, but is different in his own way. Steven’s eyes were bright and doe-eyed while Marc’s were darker with a storm of emotion, but Jake was different.

Looking at him now, they are deeper, but filled with a sense of warmth and familiarity that you could not explain. It bewilders you, but at the same time, it was as if you were greeting an old friend. 

Yet, there is so much about Jake that you did not know. You try not to let your worries get the best of you, but you remain hesitant and guarded at his intentions. You prefer not to know, and you would rather delude yourself into hoping he was not aware of your unrequited feelings for Marc, too. It seems everyone knows how you feel about him except the man himself. 

As if he read your mind, he reaches forward to caress your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that falls from your eyes. 

“I promise I have no ill intentions, conejita,” he comforts you with a gentle smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “I don’t know you very well.”

He chuckles softly at you. “I promised I would show more of myself to you when you returned. Let me fulfill that promise.”

You remembered that night when he found you crying on the steps outside of his apartment before you left for Singapore. It felt so long ago, but it also felt as if it were yesterday. 

With a sheepish smile, you accept his hand. “Lead the way.”

You allow him to guide you to the promenade with your hand in his. After a moment, he pulls you close with one of his hands settling on your back, the other holding yours as he begins to sway to the music. You follow his movements with one hand on his shoulder as the other was laced with his, keeping you connected to him. 

You were not much of a dancer. For most of high school, you opted out of homecoming and only attended prom during your senior year, but even then, you were with friends. You never slow danced with anyone except your father whenever he played the old romantic love songs from his homeland in the kitchen on Saturday mornings.

An apology immediately falls from your lips as you accidentally step on his feet. “I’m so sorry—”

He tucks a finger under your chin, guiding you to look at him. 

“Eyes on me,” he whispers. “Follow my movements. Pretend it’s just the two of us.”

Slowly, you nod, keeping your eyes on him as you follow his steps. Your cheeks feel warm from the contact, but you elect to ignore it. You could only imagine how you looked. 

“When did you learn how to dance?” You ask him curiously. You did not want to say it, but you were surprised to see that he was a natural dancer. 

“I’m a man of many hidden talents, and I am not one to reveal my secrets.”

You could not help but laugh at his answer as he grins playfully at you. He was always an enigma. 

“Well, whoever taught you must have been a wonderful teacher,” you compliment him with a small and shy smile. “And whoever you danced with had a lucky partner.” 

Jake laughs softly as he twirled you. Once you face him again, he smiles. 

For the first time, you feel something foreign tug at your heartstrings. In the glimpses you have seen of Jake Lockley, you knew very little about him, but you knew enough to know he only revealed his true self to a select few.

Perhaps this time, you would finally meet the man in the front seat through the window in-between.

The ride home was quiet, but the silence was not suffocating. The city lights blurred past you as Jake hummed and whistled along to the Spanish melodies that played on the radio. Some songs you were familiar with from the playlists that Steven and Marc would often share with you. There were times when you asked them to teach you the language so you could better understand the songs they would sing, and in return, you shared the music from your family’s homeland. You did not recognize the songs that Jake played on the radio, but even in your limited understanding of the language, you found comfort in the harmonies. 

Like a true gentleman, Jake walked you to your front door once he dropped you off at home. The lights were still on in the kitchen when you arrived, and you knew your parents were still awake and waiting for your return. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you turn to him as you stop at your front door. “I had a good time with you and Marc.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Marc. There was so little he shared about his divorce with Layla, and from the little you knew about it, you knew he loved her deeply. The wound in his heart had yet to close and heal, much similar to yours. 

Sensing your worry, Jake offers a reassuring smile. 

“He’ll be alright,” he reassures you. “He just needs some time to himself, but I promise you he’ll be okay. Steven and I will look after him.”

You nod. You’ve seen Marc withdraw at times, but not like this. You could still see the fear on his face— he looked as if he had seen a ghost, and you wonder if he will be able to come back.

“Did you want to come inside? I made some mochi earlier that you could take home.”

He shakes his head, but still offers that comforting smile at you. “I’ll be alright, but thank you. Can you tell your parents I said hello?”

You smile weakly at him, feeling a bit comforted by his reassurance. “I will.”

As you watch him walk back to his car, your heart begins to ache, a dagger digging into your chest and you could barely breathe. 

For a moment, he looked just like Marc. Slicked back dark hair, olive green jacket over his shoulders, and that soft, gentle smile. 

There was a time when Marc would bring you home like this, right after your night classes. He would walk you to the front door, his jacket over your shoulders, a protective arm around you as it was already dark once the sun had set. 

“Whenever you need me, you can call me,” he comforted you the first night you completed your night class. It was already fall with the days growing shorter and the nights growing darker, and you often called him to take you home since you felt unsafe walking across campus and waiting at the bus stop by yourself. 

“You don’t need to take me home every Thursday because I’m scared of walking alone to the bus stop at night. I can call campus police for an escort,” you told him as he opened the car door for you.

Marc shook his head and took your bag from your shoulders as you stepped in. “The buses aren’t always reliable, and I need to make sure you’re home safe.”

You began to protest, but he smiled at you as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“No one can hurt you when I’m around,” he whispered. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy, kid.”

But you did not have to do anything for Marc to leave you. How could you lose someone you loved if they were never yours?

You ignore the ache in your heart as Jake drives away, disappearing into the darkness like a dying star in the night sky. With a deep breath, you force a smile and step inside to find your parents waiting for you in the living room, eager to hear everything about your date. 

It went well, you lie. We are just friends, and my feelings for him have faded. I am no longer in love with him. 

I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you repeat to yourself as you sit in your room, your fingers tracing the daffodil petals that you saved from the bouquet he had given you. You cherished the flowers he gifted you, but they have withered and died, their petals pressed into thin pieces you would have saved and kept near to your heart. 

You remembered sitting in the field as a schoolgirl with flowers in your hand and giggling with your friends as you sang, he loves me, he loves me not. 

You loved him, but he loves you not.

I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you whisper, dropping the petals into the wastebasket. 

I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 

Another petal falls, followed by the other. 

I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 

A tear falls from your eyes as you drop the last petal, your hand empty without any trace of him. 

It was time to let him go. 

#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #marc spector x fem!reader #steven grant x fem!reader #moon knight x fem!reader #moon knight imagine #jake lockley imagine #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockley x you #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #moon knight imagines #jake lockley imagines #steven grant imagines #marc spector imagines

[jayke0]

Secret Agent

Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem reader

Summary: kinktober day 12, Gun Play and Glove Kink

Rating: 18+

Warnings/content: gunplay, fucking with gun, Boston accent Jake, making out, leather gloves, mocking, praise, lmk if there's anything else i should add :).

Word count: 1,515

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………………………………………….......................

"I'm home!"

Jake's voice echoes through the rooms of your apartment, but receives no answer from you, which is unusual.

A concerned expression replaces the happy one that was spread across his face, and he calls out to you once again.

"In here."

Oh boy, he didn't like the sound of that.

He follows the sound of your voice towards the bedroom, and is faced with the scenario of you sitting next to a gun and pair of crescent knuckled gloves.

"What the hell is all this, hmm? You some kinda secret agent?"

Funnily enough, you're not too far from the truth, but he knows that if he tells you about the dead bird that stalks him all day and gives him orders you might just run right out the door.

"No! Fuckin' hell, no—" he chuckles nervously and approaches you, but you shift away from him a little, which makes his stomach twist. "It's for self defense, and the gloves are what i use when I'm drivin'. I'm surprised ya ain't seen me wearin' 'em to be honest... I left 'em here by accident this mornin'."

You look at the man sheepishly, eyeing his demeanour, which is sickeningly casual. What reason do you have to believe that Jake is dangerous? He is literally the best boyfriend ever, and so kind that you sometimes wonder if he's just a figment of your imagination.

A loud sigh leaves your lips as you get up and wrap your arms around him tightly, pressing your face into his chest. "Sorry… I just got scared."

Jake strokes your head, embracing you in his large frame as he too lets out a sigh. "I get it, don't worry, mi vida."

Your eyes flick up to him as you rest your chin on his chest. "Let me see what the gloves look like on you, they're pretty." You smile.

He shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a man of taste." He chuckles and pulls his jacket off to roll his sleeves up.

You love it when he does that; his forearms always look so good in that white shirt, his tanned muscles contrasting perfectly with the tight fabric, enough to make your tummy flutter.

He pulls the gloves on one at a time, flexing his fingers with a squeak from the leather, before he holds his hands out flat in front of you. "There, ya like 'em?"

You more than like them, the sight makes you bite your lip as you tentatively run your fingers over the little moons on the knuckles. "Yeah, they're just as pretty as I imagined..." You say, unable to hide the breathiness in your voice.

Jake's brow raises. "Mhm?"

Curse him and his impossibly perfect skills of reading you, especially when it comes to your hormones.

You notice his jaw tensing as he briefly tosses an idea around in his head.

He reaches towards the bed and picks up the gun carefully, clicking the safety on and holding it in his grasp as his eyes stay glued on your face and body.

Holy shit, he looks good like that. It sparks some kind of arousing adrenaline inside you at the thought of him with that fucking gun; the one that you were literally going to rip his head off for only minutes earlier.

Your hands run up his wrists and arms to his biceps and you squeeze them lightly.

"Ya like it, don't ya?"

"Fuck you, Jake Lockley." you think to yourself.

"Yeah, I do, weirdly." A forced laugh escapes your lips, but you're quickly silenced by Jake's cold chuckle following it.

"Want me to show ya what else I can do with it? With these?" The man holds the gun up, and then his other hand as he wiggles his fingers.

All you can do is nod dumbly as your eyes follow your boyfriend's fingers, already well aware of how quickly they can draw an orgasm out of you.

He smiles assuringly and pats your shoulder with the gun before pointing to the bed with the tip. "Sit down, mi vida, ya look like you're gonna pass out." He chuckles softly and helps you to sit on the comfortable pillows, legs outstretched for him already.

The man leans over you, one hand next to yours at your side, with the other closer to your ribs and rubbing the gun against your skin. His lips press against yours and you feel his stubble brush your chin, his mustache tickling your upper lip as always. The gun continues to press against your side as you feel him deepen the kiss and lick into your needy mouth, sucking your lower lip in a way that makes you shiver and wrap your arms around his neck.

"What are you gonna do with it?" You pant softly, hips slowly grinding against thin air; that man is always so good at making you needy with just a make-out session.

"Well, have ya got any condoms left?"

No way, no fucking way, he's not seriously going to fuck you with his gun right? You hate to admit how wet the thought alone makes you.

You can't muster a response, and simply gesture towards both of your's favourite drawer with a tip of your head.

A low chuckle leaves his lips. "Ya already know what I'm thinkin' huh? Ya want me to fuck ya with my gun?"

A loud gasp leaves your lips when he finally says it.

The man chuckles again and reaches into the drawer, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the barrel. "I always knew ya were a bit freaky, but i didn't think that gunplay was on the cards, angel."

"Shut up." You grumble in embarrassment, lifting your hips to pull your sleeping shorts off.

"Even gettin' undressed for me." The man noses your neck, biting a specifically sensitive spot. "What a good girl."

You're about to complain again, but you're silenced by cold metal pressing against your cunt through the thin material of your underwear and latex. A small noise leaves your lips and you give Jake pleading eyes, which he happily obliges by. "Kinky little thing, ain't ya?" He grins.

He tucks the tip of the gun into your underwear to pull them down, drawing a gasp from you as he presses the tip against your needy hole, the cold sending excited shivers through your body. He slowly presses into your wet heat with ease, since the barrel is nowhere near the same girth as his own, but the coldness is an entirely new feeling that has you gripping his bicep.

"Fuck, Jake, that feels weird… good weird." You clarify with a breathy giggle.

That warrants a chuckle from the man as he pulls it out again. " 'S somethin' new for that greedy cunt ain't it?"

Damn him and his dirty talking skills, part of you just hates him for how naturally it seemingly comes to the man. Your thoughts are torn away from you as he thrusts the barrel back inside you, making your back arch off of the bed at the surprise. He continues to thrust into your hole with a fast pace as he mouths your neck and jaw, biting softly in places as he mumbles his nasty thoughts to you.

"Does it feel good? Bein' fucked with my gun, angel? Bet it ain't as good as my cock."

"Wish I could feel ya clenchin' around it, that's always my favourite part."

"Look at ya, ya take it so well."

That makes you shakily look down, a pathetic moan exploding from your chest at the sight of your stupid boyfriend wearing those stupid gloves and fucking you with that stupid gun—

It makes your hips rock faster as curses spill from your lips.

Suddenly, you feel another strange sensation running through your folds, and you realise it's Jake's leather clad fingers coating themselves in your arousal. It rubs against you in the most perfect way and you find yourself digging your nails into his flesh while the leather circles your clit.

"Jake, Jake, Jake—"

"Ya gonna cum angel? Do it, cariño, cum all over my gun, show me how much of a dirty whore ya are."

You feel your orgasm crash against your body violently as all your muscles tense and all you can do is cry and whimper the man's name that's literally fucking you with his stupid gun. It shakes your entire body and you're left with just the aftershock of one of the best orgasms he's ever given you.

Shyly, you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend, a smile replacing the blissed expression on your face as you stare at his beautiful features.

Jake smiles back " 'Atta girl, you're my girl," he presses a kiss on your forehead before crawling closer to you, "D'ya think ya could help me out with this though?" He chuckles softly and gestures to the bulge in his pants.

You roll your eyes affectionately with a giggle and rest your hands on his hips,

"I guess I should. Only fair, isn't it?"

...........................................................................

Prompts by: @/flightlessangelwings

Tagging people: @cowboymarcs @sad1st1c-wh0re @poopoobuttsy @boredzillenial @mllover260 @simpforbritgents @saevenswelt @partssoldseparately @keira-kaz2y5 @theincredibleinkspitter @l-luna @red-hydra @queerponcho @summonthesoups @motleyfolk @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#moon knight #kinktober #moon boys #moon knight smut #moon knight system #jake lockley #jake lockley smut