lonelyisamyw-0love

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Oscar Isaac in TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019) dir. J.C. Chandor

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

♥︎ happy valentines day ♥︎

from me and my harem of special boys

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

THIS IS SO CUTE?!?!

Lil baby Haya!! A sleepover!!!!

My heart is healed!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The Myth, The Legend.

Pairing: Marc Spector x OC by Amy (POC) x Haya Rose Spector x Fem!Reader. Summary: nothing can hide the truth, not the sun and definitely not the moon.

warning tags: psychoanalysis, cuteness, a bit of swearing and secrets.

author’s note: Please tell me I made it up to you. 😭 @lonelyisamyw-0love

It was a bright, sunny afternoon when Marc and Y/N dropped off Haya at Nxy’s place, their arms full with bags and a list of errands that would keep them occupied for the next few hours. Marc ruffled his daughter’s hair, the usual quiet tenderness in his movements.

“You’ll be fine, sweetie. Nxy’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Marc said, smiling as Haya bounced on her feet.

Y/N chuckled softly. “Just have fun, alright? No pulling any pranks on Nxy.”

Haya grinned up at them, her eyes already sparkling with excitement. “Promise!”

Nxy stood at the door, arms crossed in that relaxed yet capable way she always had. She eyes both her best friends, Haya may not see it now but her father had his crest weapon under his belt, and Y/N had the quiet brass knuckles.

 “You two go handle whatever needs to be handled. We’ll keep the fort down here.” Nxy chuckled to ease her own tension.

Marc and Y/N exchanged a glance, this was the first time they were going to handle something outside of their marriage

Marc nodded and gently placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. 

“Thank you again, Nxy. Seriously. We know you’ve got your hands full with her.”

“No problem at all,” Nxy replied, her smile genuine. 

“We’re just going to have a quiet, relaxing weekend.” But the glint in her eyes betrayed her playful nature.

 “You know, chill stuff. Pillow fights, pizza, maybe a game of who can eat the rich faster .’”

Haya gasped. “Yes! We should totally do that!”

Marc wanted to smack his forehead, he knew how open Nxy could be even around children

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll keep her up all night. Make sure she gets some sleep, okay?” Y/N commented as she grabbed her husband’s arm. 

“I’ll try,” Nxy grinned, though the mischievous sparkle in her eyes suggested she’d likely fail.

As Marc and Y/N drove off, the quiet of the house settled in. It wasn’t often Nxy found herself alone with Haya for long stretches of time, and there was something oddly relaxing about the calm that now enveloped the space.

“So, what should we do first?” Nxy asked, crouching to Haya’s level. 

Can children get drunk? Should children get drunk? What the fuck do you do with a- 

Haya grinned, bouncing up and down.

 “Can we build a fort? I want it big, like a castle!”

“Big, huh? Well, I guess if we’re going big, we’re going all out. We need snacks, too. What’s a fort without snacks?” Nxy grinned, 

This was a little more of a normal activity her and Marc ever did during their childhood. 

Nxy was already picturing the mountain of pillows she’d need to drag into the living room.

Haya’s eyes lit up. “Yes, snacks! Popcorn! Candy! Chocolate!”

“Well, alright then.” Nxy smirked and stood. 

“Let’s get to work.”

The next few hours were a blur of laughter and half-wild ideas as they built the fort of their dreams. 

It wasn’t exactly Pinterest-perfect, but it was sturdy and cozy, with an excessive amount of blankets and pillows strewn everywhere. Nxy couldn’t help but smile at the way Haya’s eyes twinkled with excitement as she crawled into the completed fort, clutching a stuffed bunny to her chest.

“We’re gonna have the best sleepover ever!” Haya declared, already looking as though she had claimed her throne.

“Best sleepover, huh?” Nxy teased, sitting beside her.

 “Alright, your Highness. What’s next on the agenda?”

Haya snuggled into her pile of blankets, her voice small and sleepy. 

“Storytime. Can you tell me a story?”

Nxy blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. “A story? Well, I guess I could try. What kind of story?”

“The Moon story! Please, Nxy?”

Nxy’s eyes flickered. “The Moon story?”

Haya nodded eagerly, her eyes wide. “Papa tells it to me every night.”

The mention of the Moon story immediately brought something else to the forefront of Nxy’s mind. She knew what the story meant but sure it wasn’t the same one that Marc would share with him, right? 

Haya broke the silence “You know, the story of how the moon looks after us children? There is a protector of the night? 

Nxy was silent for a moment, it was that story but she decided to place a front. 

Nxy then smiled softly. 

“Alright, kiddo. The Moon story, coming right up.”

As Nxy launched into the soft, magical retelling of the glowing, protective Moon, Haya curled up beside her, listening intently. The tale was simple, comforting, but there was a weight to it. Nxy couldn’t help but notice the emotional undertone that seemed to hang around Marc’s passing of the story. As she told it, she thought about how important it must have been to him—how he had passed it down from Randall to Haya. It was a piece of Marc’s past, a connection between him, his brother, and now his daughter.

“Thank you auntie Nxy”  Haya murmured, already drifting off.

Nxy paused. She wasn’t sure if Haya even understood the significance of the Moon story, but the thought of Randall made something stir in Nxy’s chest. She’d remembers bits and pieces of Marc’s past, but this—this felt different. This wasn’t just a bedtime story. It was a memory, a tradition that tied Marc’s past to his present in a way that was almost sacred.

As Haya’s breathing evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep, Nxy sat there, the weight of the story still hanging in the air. She couldn’t shake the thought of how long Marc had carried this tradition with him, how much it meant to him to pass it on.

How long had he been telling that story? Nxy wondered. She wanted to ask Marc about it, but knowing Marc he will probably just push it off.

When she finally slipped out of the room, the house was eerily quiet. She moved to the kitchen, grabbing herself a drink, and tried to shake off the weight of the moment. 

She needed to process what had just happened—how casual it all seemed, but how profound the whole thing was.

Marc had passed on this Moon story to Haya with such ease, but Nxy could see the silent weight behind it. She wasn’t sure if Marc even realized just how much that story meant, how it carried the ghosts of his past and the warmth of his present.

Nxy leaned against the counter, her fingers wrapped around her glass. The silence in the house was almost oppressive now, a stark contrast to the cheerful chaos that had filled the space earlier. The thought crossed her mind again. How long had he been telling that story?

Just as she was about to let the question slip. 

-Day time-

Nxy stayed asleep on the couch, she wasn’t even sure how the hell she fell asleep. One moment she was deep in memory lane and the next, the lights were out. 

A creaking could be heard against the floor when Nxy turns up. 

Marc appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face. 

“Everything good? Haya finally crashed or did my girl make you tap out?”

“Yeah, she’s out,” Nxy said, trying to sound casual. “You know, she’s got more energy than I ever expected. But I think we’re all set for the night.”

Marc gave her a look, a teasing glint in his eyes. “How’s the fort holding up? I’m sure it’s a masterpiece.”

“It’s a fortress,” Nxy grinned, shaking her head. “She’s in there like a queen, ruling over her kingdom of pillows.”

Marc laughed, then leaned against the doorframe. His smile softened. “Thanks for doing this. You’ve been great with her.”

“Don’t mention it,” Nxy said, trying to downplay the gratitude. “I’m just here for the fun.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, but then Nxy, without thinking, spoke up again.

“How long have you been passing down that story? The Moon one?”

Marc blinked, caught off guard. His face softened, and for a moment, he seemed to get lost in thought

“What moon story?”

Oh fuck you, said the guy that asked shared the haunting story of the moon. 

“Marc, don’t. Come on. It’s just you and me man.” 

Marc walks over to sit next to you, he hangs his arms to the sides and grabs one of your beers on the coffee table

“It started with Randall. I used to tell him that story when he had nightmares, something to calm him down. After... after he was gone, I just kept telling it to Haya. I didn’t even think about it much until you mentioned it.”

Nxy nodded slowly, her mind processing the weight behind his words. She hadn’t understood how much that story had tied Marc to his brother. It was more than just a story—it was a lifeline, a thread that connected Marc’s past with his future.

“It’s a nice tradition, I suppose.” Nxy said softly, her voice thoughtful.

Marc smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s one of the things I can hold onto. A way to keep them both close.”

Nxy didn’t speak for a moment. She didn’t need to. Sometimes, silence said more than words ever could.

Marc sighs as he aims to get up but Y/N walked in. She had a few scratches and bruises. 

Nxy walked over to Y/N and grasped her arm lightly 

“Y’all had one hell of a fucking night” 

Marc snorts 

“Don’t remind me. Please, what’s for breakfast?” Y/N asked with a pleasing voice, her muscles groaned and her head was spinning.

“Waffles!” Haya squeaks as Y/N jerks her hand away to cover up the scene. Y/N walks over and picks up Haya, hyping her up for the request to make waffles 

The room now has you and Marc, 

“She will notice one day. Lying doesn’t keep people safe Marc, please. For the love that you have for Y/N, Haya, Jake and Steven, hell maybe even-“ 

Marc cuts you off“Right now, she doesn’t notice. Until then it’s waffle time.” 

You crossed your arms as Marc sighs, he knows he is attempting to buy time, 

“Please?” 

You nod your head and wrap an arm around his shoulder, one day, Haya will know about The Protector of the Moon, The Shadows, The Light Cast and most important Randall. 

 The mornin  had been filled with lightheartedness and laughter, but there was a deeper layer to it. A tradition, a memory passed from one generation to the next. She couldn’t help but wonder, as she took another bite of her waffle, if Marc realized just how much that story meant—not just to Haya, but to him too.

—- any of you that I have tagged are welcome to use Haya Rose Spector in one of your fanfics. But as for Nxy you gotta ask Amy ❤️ ——- tagged:

@megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @soft-persephone @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@howaboutcastiel @ivystoryweaver

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

The "you left me" broke my heart

Ohhhh my heart!!

A Love Tested by War

Duke Leto Atreides x Wife!Reader

Summary: A plot against House Atreides is uncovered, and all signs point to you. Despite the growing love between you and Leto, suspicion clouds his judgment until you are taken.

The silence between you had become unbearable.

Leto stood before you, hands clasped behind his back, his golden-brown eyes darkened with something unreadable.

Suspicion.

It had been there for days now.

“I need you to tell me the truth.” His voice was steady, but you knew him well enough to hear what he was trying hard to find. “Are you working against me?”

“You think I would betray you? I would never.”

“The evidence says otherwise.”

You flinched.

He wasn’t raising his voice, wasn’t hurling accusations, and somehow that hurt worse. You had grown used to his quiet nature and his measured words, but this?

This was distance.

This was a wall between you, stronger than stone and colder than the deserts of Arrakis at night.

“I have never done anything but stand by your side,” you said, stepping closer. “I have never been anything but loyal.”

Leto inhaled sharply as if forcing himself not to reach for you, not to soften. “And yet, the messages intercepted, the movements tracked and everything leads to you.”

You shook your head. “Someone is framing me.”

“Then who?” he asked. “Who else has access to the information that was leaked?”

You didn’t have an answer. And that was the problem.

His silence spoke louder than words.

For the first time since your marriage, an arranged, political marriage, but slowly growing into something more, you realized that Leto Atreides did not trust you. And maybe he never had.

Without another word, he turned and left.

And that was the last time you saw him before they took you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been in this dark prison.

The traitors who had orchestrated the plot against House AtreidesVVhad come for you in the night, dragging you from the safety of the palace.

It had been too easy.

Because Leto had not been watching.

Because he had let his guard down around you.

You had screamed for him, even as they bound your wrists, even as they struck you when you refused to kneel.

But Leto had not come. Nor did anyone else.

---

The sound of boots rushing down the corridor, followed by the sound of a blade slicing through flesh.

The door to your cell burst open, the light finally coming in, and there he stood.

Leto.

His bloody knife clenched in his fist.

His eyes locked onto you. And everything stopped.

For a moment, you thought he might say nothing.

That he might simply turn away again, as he had before.

But then he was moving, dropping to one knee beside you, cutting through the bindings at your wrists with a sharp flick of his blade.

His hands cupped your face, tilting it toward the light.

“You’re hurt.” His voice was rough, hoarse. He swallowed hard. "I was so terribly wrong."

Tears burned at the back of your throat. “You left me.”

his regret visible in the way his shoulders tensed. “I know. And it will haunt me until my last breath. But I’m here now.”

“You thought I was a traitor,” you whispered. "I was so scared. I tried to call for you."

His jaw clenched. “I left you. And I will never forgive myself for it.”

For the first time since you met him, Leto Atreides looked at you not as a Duke, not as a husband bound by duty, but as a man.

A man who had almost lost the only thing he couldn’t bear to lose.

His wife.

“I will never doubt you again,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke. “I swear it.”

And when he carried you out of that place, his arms strong around you, you believed him.

Because this time, he did not let you go.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Bruh...I wish I had a Layla closer to me.

I love how she immediately is like "operation: make reader smile" is a go

I want a fun day, instead I got a busted finger

Girl-Time

Pairing: Layla El Faouly x Fem!Reader

Summary: You might feel alone and unloved but you aren’t. That’s the tragedy of life, you will never know how much you are loved ❤️

Warning tags: fluff + a little Fomo

You hadn’t meant to be gloomy, but here you were, curled up on your couch, staring at the soft glow of your phone screen. The flood of happy couple photos on social media was enough to make your heart ache a little. Valentine’s Day was everywhere. On every corner, in every store window, it felt like a reminder of what you didn’t have. It wasn’t a big deal, not really, but you couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that tugged at you.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention, and Layla stepped inside, a smile brightening her face. She’d made her usual entrance, the one that made everything seem like it was going to be okay. She looked at you, paused, and then her smile softened.

“What’s going on with you?” Layla asked, sitting beside you without a second thought. “You’ve been quieter than usual today.”

You shrugged, trying to act normal. “It’s nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. I know that look. Come on, spill.”

You let out a small sigh, fingers nervously tracing the edge of your cup. “I don’t know. It’s just... Valentine’s Day, I guess. It’s everywhere, and I’m here, alone.” You swallowed, feeling the sting in your chest. “Everyone’s with someone, and I’m just here.”

Layla tilted her head, her expression softening with understanding. She wasn’t one for platitudes, and you appreciated that. Instead, she grinned, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes.

“Well, if you’re going to be alone on Valentine’s Day, then I’m here for you. It’s Galentine’s Day, now.”

You blinked at her, confused. “What?”

“Galentine’s Day!” She was already bouncing off the couch, moving like she had a plan. “It’s what best friends do. We’re going to make this day fun. No more moping around. I’m not letting you sit here feeling sorry for yourself.”

You watched, a little stunned, as she grabbed her purse and tossed you a set of keys. “Come on. We’re going out.”

Before you could protest, she was already pulling you up, leading you through the door.

First stop: dessert. The café smelled like warm chocolate and fresh pastry, and Layla was already ordering two mugs of the richest hot chocolate they had. “This is mandatory,” she declared, handing you yours. “Valentine’s Day or not, we’re doing it right.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the comforting warmth of the drink melting away some of the tension in your shoulders. It wasn’t so bad after all.

“Okay,” Layla continued with a wink, “next, we go find the tackiest Valentine’s decorations and wear them with pride. A heart-shaped necklace? A giant teddy bear?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly daring you.

You laughed despite yourself. “Are you serious?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. It’s Galentine’s Day. We don’t follow the rules.”

You both ended up in a thrift store, Layla pulling out the most ridiculous clothes she could find: glittery hats, neon pink scarves, a plush red dress that was clearly more Halloween than Valentine’s. With each ridiculous outfit she handed you, your laughter grew louder. By the time you’d tried on the most absurd combinations, you were almost crying from laughing.

“This is the best day ever,” you said between giggles.

Layla beamed, her eyes sparkling. “That’s the spirit. You’re not alone today. I’m here. And I’m not letting you forget it.”

Later, you found yourselves on a quiet rooftop, the city spread out before you like a sea of twinkling lights. Layla had brought along a couple of drinks, and the two of you settled into the cold night air, comfortable in each other’s company.

“You know,” Layla said after a while, breaking the silence, “Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be just about romance.”

You glanced over at her, feeling the weight of her words.

She shrugged, casually kicking her legs out as she leaned back. “Love is a lot of things. It’s friendship, support, showing up when it counts. That’s what today is about—us.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, a quiet kind of peace.

“So, technically,” Layla added with a teasing smile, “you do have a Valentine. Lucky you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on her shoulder. “Lucky me.”

—-

@megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @lonelyisamyw-0love @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @soft-persephone

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Aw nervous poe!?!? OH SO CUTEEEE MY HEART!!!!!

Pulse

Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader

Summary: Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.

Warning tags: fluff, and anxiety.

Author’s note: After 3 million years

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Poe Dameron returned from his mission later than usual, his boots heavy on the ground as he strode into the medical bay. He had no injuries, no bruises, nothing that would warrant a visit to Dr. L/N. But after every mission, it was protocol—routine check-ups, no exceptions. He was already halfway through the door when he heard the soft, familiar voice call out to him.

“Poe, you’re early today.”

Poe turned and smiled at Dr. L/N, feeling a flutter in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. There was something about their presence—how they moved so effortlessly, how their smile lit up the dimly lit room—that always made his heart race just a little faster.

“Guess I’m just trying to avoid the paperwork, Doc,” he said with a grin, leaning against the doorframe casually.

Dr. L/N chuckled softly, shaking their head. “You know I can’t let you off the hook that easy. Come on, take a seat.”

Poe followed them over to the exam table, trying to shake the strange, excited feeling that bubbled up inside him every time they looked at him. They were just doing their job, right? Checking his vitals, making sure everything was in order. He’d been through this plenty of times before.

But today, it felt different.

As Dr. L/N took his wrist, pressing two fingers to the pulse point, Poe felt something shift in his chest. His heartbeat seemed to pick up pace, a little faster than it should be. He hoped they wouldn’t notice.

“Everything okay?” Dr. L/N’s voice was soft, a hint of curiosity in their tone as they looked up at him, brow furrowed. They were always perceptive, always paying attention to every little detail.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Poe said quickly, trying to downplay the sudden nervousness creeping up his spine. “Just a bit of… mission adrenaline still wearing off, I guess.”

Dr. L/N raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. They moved to the next part of the exam, asking him to breathe deeply as they listened to his chest. Poe did as instructed, but the longer they stood so close to him, the harder it became to ignore the electric charge that seemed to hang in the air between them.

Their fingers pressed gently against his ribs as they listened intently to the beat of his heart. Poe’s breath caught, and he had to steady himself, the feeling of their touch making his stomach twist in an unexpected way.

Dr. L/N noted something down on the datapad, their brow furrowing in concentration. Elevated heart rate, slightly flushed skin… It was all so normal after a mission, but something didn’t feel quite right. They’d seen Poe before, plenty of times, and his usual post-mission symptoms weren’t this pronounced. There was a certain energy in the air—a buzz that felt entirely different.

They glanced back at him, catching him with a quick, almost shy look. Poe’s gaze darted away, his face flushing deeper, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. Dr. L/N’s mind started to wander, and a small seed of realization planted itself in their thoughts. Could it be?

Poe’s hands were slightly clammy as he shifted in the seat, a subtle but obvious sign of nervousness. And that smile... it wasn’t just exhaustion from the mission. There was something more behind it, something that wasn’t as easily explained away.

Dr. L/N took a quiet breath and glanced down at their datapad again. No physical injury, no fever, no signs of anything out of the ordinary except… this.

It was impossible to ignore how Poe’s demeanor had changed when they were near, how his voice had dropped a little lower when speaking to them. How his eyes had lingered a fraction too long.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Dr. L/N’s pulse quickened in their own way, but it wasn’t the same as Poe’s racing heart. It was the realization that Poe Dameron—always so confident, always so composed—might actually be feeling the same things they were. Could he possibly… like me?

They felt a soft blush spread across their own cheeks, and they quickly cleared their throat, pushing aside the rush of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm them.

“Your heart rate’s a bit elevated,” they said, their voice a little softer than usual as they met his gaze again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Poe swallowed, his gaze flitting nervously to the side. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said again, but this time, his voice was less certain. It was clear that something was going on between them, something neither of them had yet to address.

Dr. L/N gave him a small, knowing smile, trying to suppress the growing awareness between them. They took a step back, their mind racing with a thousand unspoken possibilities.

“I guess I’m just… happy to be back,” Poe said, his voice almost a whisper, as though he were trying to convince himself of the lie.

And that was it. Dr. L/N couldn’t ignore it any longer. The way Poe’s hands were slightly trembling, how his eyes kept darting away, the way his voice held an edge of vulnerability. It wasn’t just the mission—there was something more. And suddenly, they weren’t just his doctor anymore.

No, this wasn’t just about physical symptoms.

“Poe,” Dr. L/N said softly, breaking the silence between them. They hesitated for a moment, unsure, but then the words spilled out. “You know, if you ever need someone to talk to... or just some company while you’re recovering... I’m around. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

The offer felt almost casual, but underneath it, there was a deeper current, one that neither of them could ignore. It was a small invitation—one they weren’t sure would be accepted, but one they felt compelled to give anyway.

Poe blinked at them, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know how to respond—his body, his mind, everything was so overwhelmed by the sudden weight of their words. For a moment, he thought about saying something flippant to cover up the warmth spreading across his cheeks, but instead, he just nodded.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said quietly, his voice somehow quieter than before. “Thanks, Doc.”

Dr. L/N smiled gently, giving him a reassuring look as they stood up. “Good. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

As they walked toward the door, Poe stayed seated, watching them leave, and the realization hit him like a wave. His heart was still racing, but now it wasn’t from mission adrenaline. It was something else entirely—something far more personal.

He wasn’t sure what this all meant, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to back away from whatever this was.

And for the first time, he didn’t mind the uncertainty.

——-

if you tagged, you are my Valentine lmaoo

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lonelyisamyw-0love @megamindsecretlair @autismsupermusicalassassin @nerdieforpedro

@ivystoryweaver @soft-persephone @i-still-dont-like-your-face @lavenderdameron

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Send me a man like them!!!

Decisions, Decisions

Pairing: Marc x Jake x Steven

Warning tags: the boys being manies, Steven is trying his best, cuteness

Summary: Have no fear, Marc and Jake are here 😉

Steven stood in the middle of the store, lips pressed together, shifting from one foot to the other as he stared at the shelves. He had been here for twenty minutes. Maybe more. Maybe they were going to kick him out soon.

Chocolates? Too generic. Jewelry? A bit overboard for their first Valentine’s together. A book? What if they already had it? A plushie? That might be too childish.

His fingers twitched as he reached for a small, elegant box—only to freeze midair and retract.

“Mate, just pick something.” Marc’s voice cut through the static in his head, sounding like he was rubbing his temples. “You’ve been staring at that shelf like it insulted your mother.”

“I want it to be perfect,” Steven muttered under his breath.

“Perfect? Hermano, you’re overthinking it.” Jake this time, his voice like a smirk behind a cigarette. “They’ll like whatever you get. Pero, if you want my advice, get something personal. Something that makes them think of you.”

Steven perked up slightly. “That’s a good idea, actually. Maybe I could—”

“Not the poetry book.”

“What? Why not?” Steven frowned. He had been eyeing a collection of love poems for the past few minutes.

“Too much,” Marc grumbled. “You’re not some 19th-century poet pining in a candlelit room.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Marc,” Steven quipped. “Sounds quite romantic, actually.”

Jake sighed. “If you’re gonna do a book, write something in it. Make it special.”

Steven brightened. “Oh, that’s brilliant! A little note in the front, maybe a date on the inside cover…” He picked up the book, running his fingers over the spine. It felt right. It felt like them.

Marc hummed in reluctant approval. Jake simply chuckled.

Finally, decision made, Steven exhaled and made his way to the register.

"Took you long enough, cariño," Jake muttered, amused.

"Seriously," Marc added. "That was painful to watch."

Steven rolled his eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at his lips

—-

tagging list:

@nerdieforpedro @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @ivystoryweaver @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lonelyisamyw-0love

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

🥹🥹

Ohhh my heart!!!!

AGHHH my first time requesting anything ever. But, can we get a how they would be on Valentine’s Day, w/ the moon boys???💖💖

(gn reader, <500 words)

“Okay guys, huddle up,” Marc looks in the mirror at Steven and Jake. “First Valentine’s Day. It’s gotta be perfect.”

Steven nods, his curly hair bobbing on his forehead.

Jake’s arms are folded. “I say we keep it classic. Dinner and drinks at a dark jazz club, romantic drive afterward, maybe pull over on a quiet road for a little fooling around.”

“I like that,” Steven says with a smile. “Could drive out of the city, rent a cute little place and I could have romantic dessert waiting, a bit of alone time.”

“And I can have the morning,” Marc says.

“Yeah, you would want that,” Jake grins.

Marc’s lips press into a thin line. “Pipe down. I meant breakfast in bed. French toast, fruit, fresh juice and everything. But also, yeah, I like morning sex,” he admits reluctantly. “I love that sleepy, soft, morning thing.”

“Sorted,” Steven says.

“Job done,” Jake agrees.

“Maybe we should ask first,” Marc thinks aloud. “We’re asking for 3 separate Valentine’s dates and 3 separate Valentine’s, um, activities….”

“Mate, with all do respect, I think that if we had a partner who couldn’t handle it, then we wouldn’t have made it past the first date.”

“You worry too much,” Jake says. “Breathe, Marc. You’ll do great.”

Marc runs a hand over his neatly pushed back hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever really celebrated Valentine’s Day,” he admits. “It’s a stupid, made-up, commercial holiday.”

Steven shakes his head. “Only if you make it that way. If you think it’s about romance and love then *that’s what the day is about, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Marc says with a thin smile.

“If it makes you feel any better, they’re not expecting anything in particular,” Jake says casually. “We haven’t been dating that long. Probably just expects flowers.”

Marc’s jaw tightens. “Not expecting anything? After everything they’ve done for us? A bunch of flowers is all they expect? No. No way. We’re going all out. We need to show them exactly how much this relationship means to us.” He points his finger aggressively at the mirror as he talks.

“Good man,” Jake says, having properly baited Marc into defending a holiday he’d, 5 minutes ago, thought useless. And as usual, Marc realizes he’s been tricked about a second too late to avoid it, but as always, it’s for his own good.

Plan in place, each man feels confident in Valentine’s Day, a holiday none of them had ever paid attention to before. This year, though, not only do they have a goal, but they have confidence in the one area of their life they’ve never felt comfortable in. Giving and accepting love.

MK masterlist :: main masterlist :: Join My Fic Taglist

-taglist friends-

@silvernight-m @sosa2imagines @myhohastuff @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@clemdango04 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @daydream-believer19 @howellatme

@eternallyvenus @iolaussharpe-24 @spacecowboyhotch @bulletgoth @eternallyvenus

@minigirl87 @oscarssimp @oddballwriter @scarlettmoon98 @apesarecuul

@pigeonmama @miluiel1 @everythingbutresolved, @faretheeoscar @junggoku

@ominoose @alexxavicry @mandytrekkie @pygmi-cygni @ierofrnkk

@lucienofthelakes @lou-la-lou @blushingrn @ingoldthewizard @wilder-fangirl

@secondmissedshot @blushingrn @buckyssugarchick @mari-thesimp

@krakenkitty @ems-chaos-corner @shadow-of-a-stag @pear-1206

please lmk if you'd like to be removed- i promise not to take it personally!

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Oscar Isaac On "El Hormiguero"

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Oscar Isaac as Gomez Addams

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Yoooooo gimme those candles! I am a whore for candles!

Pick a goodie

Tagging: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @wysteria-clad @saturn-rings-writes

This is a fun game! Thank you for the tag @aspirateur-killeuse

Tagging people I can think of🤔 reblog and do it if you want!

@loveandthings11 @aurorag98 @chaithetics @roysreader @hunzzzzz

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

OSCAR ISAAC in EX MACHINA (2014) dir. Alex Garland

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

My beautiful princess with a disorder

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Marc Spector // Steven Grant // Jake Lockley

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

ARE YOU FUCKING FORREAL!?!?????

FEN!!! Sweet fuck!

The tonal whiplash here is just *chefs kiss*

Im supposed to be getting ready for bed and yet ....and YET!!!

And when I read this part

All I could see is blue like this

I hope Blue haunts my dreams tonight. I will some him such a delicious time. Also you muhfuckin right, you can take that tone with your other girls but come correct when you talk to me.

Shit

Love you baby blue lol

Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world  @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

 @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr 

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist 

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop 

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan 

@faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love  @queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

“I’m gonna tear up the fuckin dance floor dude, check it out.”

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Yesssss!!!

I needed these like a fish needs water

Thank you!!!!!

Returning for Year 2: All New Oscar Isaac Valentines

slightly nsfw tbh

Oscar Isaac Valentines Masterlist

Main Masterlist