#jake lockley x m!reader

[ivystoryweaver]

for tender prompts: dancing to a slow jazz song after a long day of work

JAKE LOCKLEY :3

I Don't Dance

"Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own."

Thanks for this @runa-falls! Ahhhhh love it! Not me back on my "Jake listens to Miles Davis" tangent again...

for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024 for June 9th-15th: first time with the same sex, first kiss

1.4k words || Jake Lockley x m!reader* || flirting, roommates to lovers, slightly suggestive, vague mentions of food and drinking, language

*reader inclusivity notes: Reader wears glasses, is taller than Jake

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Life is good…enough.

Work can be a drag, but you look forward to coming home to your roommate Jake. Usually he's worked all night, slept all day, and the two of you meet up around dinner time. You're friendly roommates, always considerately cooking and making enough food for the other, keeping the dishes clean and playing video games together.

You have the most massive crush on the smaller man. He's gorgeous, with smoldering brown eyes and luscious dark curls, with a tinge of early gray...

You've never been with a man before. Just a few failed, awkward romances with women, a few years back.

But recently you've been realizing that you're not single because you're some sort of loser, or something equally upsetting. You're single because women actually just don't interest you, not as much emotionally, and not really at all sexually.

One time you heard Jake in his room with a partner, groaning and grunting in pleasure, his muffled voice telling his lover how to take him.

That was...eye-opening.

Now you think about him all the time, but you don't know how to tell him, and worse, if you even should tell him. He's way too cute for you...right? Cute doesn't begin to cover it - the man oozes confidence...experience...smolder.

He's really nice too.

He was gone for a few days, out of town "for work" (whatever that is). When he got back, he actually gave you a quick hug. "Missed you, man." You forgot to breathe for so long, it came out like a dramatic sigh once you did.

Jake wondered if you were annoyed, but instead, asked you to play video games. The sides of your arms touched the whole time, and you had to put a pillow over your lap because your obvious…attraction.

Jake senses the tension between you and wonders if you're mad that he finished the peanut butter and didn’t buy more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, your gaze flickering away. “No, I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Jake - especially not over peanut butter.”

He hums out an ambiguous response, dragging a hand over the sexy stubble on his chin. "You must've missed me then." His eyebrows shoot up playfully.

God you want him so bad.

As if your greeting hug and video-game-a-thon weren't enough, work the next day couldn't go worse. Sometimes you feel invisible to colleagues and especially to your boss, who seems to have completely ignored your inquiry about an open management position. After a day of being overlooked and passed over, you’re so done.

You finally make it home, drenched from a sudden shower that seemed to wait until you walked out of work to start, and decided to stop as soon as you made it through your front door. Shedding your wet jacket, you stamp your feet on the mat just inside the door, yanking off your fogged up glasses so you can wipe them clean.

Unfortunately, rain does not look good on you the way it does on Jake. If he comes home wet, he's something out of a noir film, removing his cap, pushing those long fingers through his perfectly damp, thick curls - droplets of water making his long lashes shine as they kiss his cheeks. Rivulets of rain snake down the corded thickness of his throat, disappearing into his deliciously drenched white shirt, which hugs the shape of his body temptingly.

Must be nice.

Maybe you can make it to your room before he sees you looking like a wet rat.

You shower and make yourself presentable enough, moving around your home quietly, afraid your pathetic-ness will somehow repel your roommate - secretly crushed that Jake doesn't interact with you for an hour or so. Maybe he doesn't notice how brutal your day was.

A delicious aroma wafts down the hall from the kitchen a while later and you realize Jake is cooking dinner. Deciding you'd rather be in his presence than mope in your room, you venture out to interact. Dinners with Jake are the highlight of your life after all - that is, when you're not sitting with him, touching him, playing games together.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, remembering to take things one day at a time. He might not even be into guys. Or you specifically.

Jake looks up as you enter the kitchen, dark eyes brightening, but somehow immediately softening at your apparent distress. Your shoulders sag in defeat even as you put on a brave face to greet him.

Usually he leaves you alone when you're quiet, assuming you prefer it that way, but after you sat together all last night, he thought maybe...

Setting down a wooden spoon and reducing the heat underneath a sizzling skillet, he turns to you, and your heart races as you realize he's giving you his full attention. It's not helping that he's wearing an apron - that sight alone might kill you.

"You okay?" Dark eyebrows arch curiously as he boldly inches forward.

Blowing out an exhale through your lips, you quickly nod, realizing that simple inquiry means more to you than anything.

Reaching out to grasp your forearm, he peers up at you earnestly. "Hey...talk to me."

You force a smile as your 'brave face' wavers. "Just a shit day. Nothing really."

He pulls a face of his own - a smirk curling the corner of his kissable lips. He's got to stop doing that or you're going to fall head over heels. (Too late).

"Okay, then," he relents, meandering over a few cabinets to where you keep the booze. Jake pours you a drink to settle your nerves, presenting it to you with a comedic flourish, as if you are his liege lord and he's your servant. Eh, probably just a fantasy of yours...

You chuckle, muttering, "thanks," as he brushes past you, disappearing into the living room to turn on the record player. Jake is a mystery, but his collection of albums might be the most sexy thing about him.

Miles Davis drifts into the kitchen, the smooth tones soothing you instantly, while making you ache for something romantic of your own.

You toss your drink back in a couple of long gulps, hoping to gain some proverbial liquid courage as Jake returns to his task, reaching for the wooden spoon to stir.

"Thanks for the drink," you say, bravely moving closer, bumping arms with him. "Need some help?"

Setting the spoon back down, he turns a smoldering gaze your way. "Dance with me."

You almost choke. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me." He roughly whispers. Tugging at the string of his apron, he pulls it loose and sets it on the countertop, leaving him in a tight, white t-shirt and joggers which rest on the swell of his hips. Offering his hand, he repeats, "Dance with me."

Your body responds, seemingly without permission from your brain as you take his waiting hand - the contact zinging up your arm, electrifying you. "I-I don't dance."

He hums out a knowing chuckle, eyes sparkling at the challenge. "Everybody can dance, here." Boldly gripping your hand, he eases your arm around his waist, giving you an out before going too far. "Stop me if I fuck this up." He pulls you closer than you expected, his breath ghosting your cheek.

"Jake..."

"Am I getting this wrong?" He asks you seriously, sounding a bit nervous - his voice pinched even as he possessively cinches you closer. "I...want you and I feel like you want me too, but...fuck, if I'm wrong, please don't kick me out."

You can't believe this is truly happening. How is this man actually real - how is he touching you, saying these things? And moreover, why are you not responding?

Afraid you might cry or something humiliating, a breathless laugh rushes out of you, cutting the tension. "I'm not gonna kick you out."

Soulful jazz crescendos, soothing the surge of worries threatening to ruin this moment, and before you can overthink - as you do - you pull him closer. "Come here..."

Your heart stops when he lays his head on your chest, almost causing you to forget to dance, but you realize, in that moment, that you trust his lead. You believe his words - at least your body does, and you sway to the music, moving in synchrony with this man you adore.

And as you wonder if the stars have aligned and you might really have a chance with him, he tilts his head up and presses his mouth to yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake Lockley-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[foreverrandomwritings]

happy pride cutie💗💜💙

i was curious if you could write, someone being mean to reader for being bi, saying they’re faking it, them just being biphobic.

and from a character of your choice, have them be all protective, and comforting the reader while they’re upset. i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort 🥴

Summary: The moon boys are amazing boyfriends to their bisexual girlfriend.

Pairings: Steven Grant x afab!Reader Marc Spector x afab!Reader Jake Lockley x afab!Reader

Warnings: harassment, blood, insecurity. Thats it?

Word count: 1397

Masterlist M's PMC Masterlist

~I love me some bi pride. Also really want someone to protect and comfort me. 

~I’m gonna do MoonKnight mostly because I want an excuse to write for all the boys.

~We’ll start with Steven first. I know he’s not very confrontational but I think that after everything happened that completely changed. 

~He’s the one to use words to protect you. Even though he’s shy and pretty reserved anytime someone comes after you he becomes bold and confident. This had been shown on many occasions. 

~You had come in to visit him at work one day. He was on lunch so you guys walked through the exhibits with you asking him occasional questions about them. Which he did gleefully. 

~You had just asked him the name of one of the statutes when you felt a tug in your backpack. You turned around and saw one of your pins in a middle aged woman’s hand. 

~She had a scowl on her face and gave you a disgusted look as she looked over you, head to toe. 

~You squirmed a little under her gaze, quickly growing uncomfortable with the way she was glaring at you.

~ “Can we help you?” Your boyfriend pipped up, looking at the pin he had gifted you clutched inside the woman’s fist. You were glad he spoke up because your voice was gone as you looked at the women.

~ “I don’t think it’s appropriate to show something like this in public. Let alone somewhere that has so many children present.” She spat out. 

~ “Well, I don't think that’s any of your business and I think you need to return the item before I go and get security.” His hand extended towards her expectantly. You knew that Marc and Jake had to have been fighting to front as Steven shook his head glancing at his reflection in a shiny statue momentarily. 

~ “Being a part of that community isn’t something that needs to be displayed.” Her voice had venom in it. 

~ “Don’t worry lady, I'm definitely not interested in you.” You told her, finally finding your voice.

~ “I was not worried about that.” And for some reason she sounded offended at the fact you weren’t attracted to her.

~ “This is your last chance to give her back her pin before I get security.” He said more sternly, his accent thick as his glare darkened. She handed him the pin with a huff before turning around and running away. 

~ “Thank you, Steven.” You told him as he pinned the object back in place. 

~ “It’s alright love. No one deserves to be treated like that. I really don’t understand why people are twisted up by people in the lgbtq+ community.” He was standing in front of you now. Looking at the ground sheepishly. You kissed his cheek in a thank you causing a blush to bloom along his cheeks. Then you both continued on your walk.

~Now for Marc. 

~He is the one that comforts you. Reassures you constantly that you are valid, loved and supported. 

~You had told him of your desire to go to pride. He had reluctantly(not that reluctantly because he was actually super excited to share this experience with you) joined you in your time there. 

~He had even bought you matching shirts. Yours said I’m the bisexual girlfriend. His said I’m here with my bisexual girlfriend. The words were written in the bi pride colors. 

~You were so excited the day of, you showed up to watch the parade that morning with a beaming smile on your face. A large group of people passed you by and you could see a few of them reading your shirts. 

~You had always been a bit shy when around other people in the LGBTQ community. There had been many different instances that they had shamed you in the past. This time wasn’t any different. When one of the women started talking to someone else in the group. 

~ “How can she even say she’s bi when she’s in a relationship with a guy.” She snickered as she passed you. 

~ It didn’t seem Marc had heard, however, to focused on the parade going on in the street in front of you. No one here posed a threat to either of you in his mind so he had let loose a little. 

~ He had however noticed the way your hand slipped out of his. He looked at you quickly and saw you fiddling with the ends of your shirt. 

~ “What’s wrong?” He asked as he scanned the crowd to see if he could spot what happened.

~ “It’s nothing Marc. You can go back to watching the parade.” Your hands wrung together as you spoke. 

~ “Tell me what happened honey. Did someone hurt you?” His eyes scanned your body looking for injuries. Though he didn’t know they could’ve laid a hand on you with him standing right there. 

~ “Just someone invalidating me again. Nothing new.” He knew that you had insecurities surrounding your sexuality. Having been told many times you were faking it, that it didn’t exist or that you weren’t actually bisexual since you were with Marc. 

~He had always done what he could to reassure you that you were validated and that you shouldn’t listen to what everyone said. This time was no different as he brought you into his chest squeezing you to him. Your arms came around his middle as you hugged him back. 

~ “You are such an amazing and wonderful girlfriend babe. Your sexuality is valid. No matter what anyone else says you and I both know you’re bisexual. Steven and Jake know you are bisexual and we love you so much. We are comfortable with you exploring both sides of your sexuality as well. You just have to sit us down and talk about it with us.” He kissed the top of your head as you squeezed him tighter. 

~It was always comforting to be in his arms. He smelled like a combination of the three of them. The three that would love and care and protect you until their last breath. 

~Now onto Jakeeeeeeee. 

~This man will let fists fly with no hesitation. Very very very protective. 

~This one will be more violent than the other ones of course. 

~It was routine for one of the boys to be standing outside of your workplace waiting for you when Jake didn’t have a mission for Konshu. 

~So as you exited the building you weren’t surprised to see a familiar hat placed atop a familiar set of curls. 

~ “How was work today mi amor.” Jake had asked you as he usually did. Taking your hand in his. 

~ “Fine.” Was your simple answer, even though work had been super annoying due to one specific co worker. 

~ “What happened?” He asked you as he scanned your face with his eyes. 

~ “Why do you think something happened?” You asked him surprised.

~ “You normally won’t shut up about your work day. But today was just fine. So what happened?” His demeanor changed as he finished his sentence, now in complete protective mode. 

~ “Chad from accounting was going on again about me being bi. Told me that it was a sin. That I would feel the wrath of hell. Told me I didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him. Just the normal gist and what not.” You shrugged simply as though the words didn’t sting you. As if you didn’t feel a deep hole within your chest as though he had stabbed you repeatedly with every word he spoke. 

~ “Where is Chad now?” Jake was seathing as you spoke. The boys were all talking loudly within his head wanting to find the guy and put and end to him. 

~ “He’s probably out back. He takes a shortcut through the alley to get home.” You knew he was going to find him anyway so you figured you’d save him some time. 

~ “Go Home. We’ll be there shortly.” You nodded your head, giving his hand a squeeze. 

~ “Just don’t kill him okay?” You gave him a peck on the lips before you were slipping away. 

~It was almost an hour later that Jake slipped through the doors. Hands and shirt bloodied and you knew his point had been made to Chad. You cleaned him up and thanked him for helping you. 

~ “I will always protect you amor.” Was his response. 

A/N:I love the moon boys with all my heart. Oscar Isaac puts me in a chokehold with every role he plays. Happy Birthday Bestie❤️

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell

[wastingmylifesecondatatime]

UPDATE: 03.06.2024

NOTE: You can find other masterlists in  my mother masterlist

I have updated the following masterlists:

Peaky Blinders

Moon Knight

Marauders Era Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Criminal Minds Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

[seven4asecret]

₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.2 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! (Eventual Avatar) Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter 2: I Swear I'm Not Banging Your Husband! Also, I Can See Ghosts

You lay on your couch, wrapped in a blanket, re-reading the same chapter for at least the third time. There was something about this deity that utterly fascinated you. You had combed the internet after reading about him for the first time, scouring any article you could get your hands on. You had always been morbidly intrigued by deities associated with death, but this was different and you couldn't quite figure out why. 

‘Anubis, or Anpu, is quite a complex deity, he plays many roles that often run together. Possibly one of the most notable of these is as a psychopomp. He was not only considered responsible for reviving the dead and allowing them to enter the afterlife but also for leading them to safety. The ancient Egyptians believed the journey through the afterlife was an extremely dangerous one. Anubis would protect the travelers by helping avoid threats by way of concealment and leading them by secret roads only known to him. He also serves as an embalmer and healer. While the process of mummification was an important one, it was much more crucial for the spirit of the deceased to be able to successfully transition into their spiritual body in order to reach the Duat. They believed for this to happen successfully, the body needed to be restored to a preserved state of wholeness. Anubis, the creator of the mummification process, would ensure the soul would be properly revived while intact.'

You turned the page.

‘However, his abilities were not limited to the deceased. He would be more accurately thought of as a deity overseeing healing and initiation. In ancient times injuries and disease were thought to have components that were both seen and unseen. Because of his role in dealing between worlds, he would be ideal to help with both. He and his priests had an excellent knowledge of human anatomy. At royal birthing ceremonies, he would offer the symbol of rebirth, not just life, but rejuvenating life. The Romans believed that Anubis offered power over death. However, he is most notably known as the weigher and accouter of hearts. He is entrusted with making sure-’

 Your phone rang.

'Oh no'.

Your stomach dropped, and somehow you knew it was Steven. You hadn't seen him lately, your shifts hadn't intersected, and he hadn't contacted you. Not that he had to, of course. But you couldn't help but worry. What if he had blacked out again? What if he had been caught by the bird-man? You had no idea what to do if that happened. Sage? Salt? Would that work on something so old? You made a mental note to research ancient ghost repellants. You shut Steven's book and rushed over to where your phone sat on the counter. It buzzed, and a number you didn't recognize scrolled past on the top of the screen.  

"Hey!" You answered.

"Hiya." You couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice on the other end. It quickly turned into a frown, this wasn't his usual upbeat tone, he sounded dejected.

"Steven, how are you? Is everything alright?" He hesitated at this, causing your frown to deepen. 

"Today has been, well the past few days... have been... a lot, really. I was wondering if we...if we could talk again? I-If it's not too much trouble?"

"Yeah...Yeah, of course. It's no trouble." You said softly, relieved to hear from him. You didn't mind taking part of your day off to chat. Honestly were touched that he trusted you enough to want to talk to you about his experiences a second time. "Back at my flat or...?"

"Actually, I was- I was thinking... we could meet up somewhere else. Make it up to you for the other night. Maybe...Maybe grab lunch, y'know? If- if you want of course? "  

"Sure!" Your heart fluttered.

"O-okay." He paused. You got the feeling he was surprised that you had accepted his offer. "There's this stand, it's not too far from the building... makes these really good burritos, if you're interested…”

"That sounds great. Text me the location and I'll see you in a few."

"Sure thing! Laters gators!"

"In a while, Crocodile." You hung up and made your way out of the building.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It took you a few seconds to spot Steven in the flow of people, sitting on the side of a large fountain. You blinked as you took him in from a distance. You were used to his passionate and enthusiastic nature. In fact, you had never really known him to be any different until recently. But now he looked downright miserable. His shoulders were hunched more than usual and there was a frown on his face. The usual gleam in his eyes had gone, replaced with an emptiness you had never seen in them before.

"Hey there." You sat next to him. He jumped slightly in surprise.

 "Hiya." He returned your greeting, and while his smile didn't reach his eyes, you noticed he perked up a bit at your company. 

"I- I got you one." He held out a burrito. "I wasn't- I wasn't sure what you would like so I just got the vegetarian one. Y-you did say you were vegetarian right?" 

"Yeah, I am actually." You saw him breathe out a sigh of relief as you took the wrap from him. "You didn't have to do that. I appreciate it, though. It's sweet of you. "

"O-oh, well..." he looked down, a light blush on his face, " I- it's only fair, pay you back for the coffee and the chat, y'know."

A few seconds of silence passed between you.

Steven took a breath before telling you about the next shift he had at the museum. How he had abruptly found himself on the bus there with the bird-man watching him from the street. How the man from the village, the judge of Ammit, showed up at work and referenced events from his 'dreams'. He told you of the jackals the man summoned, how they chased him into the bathroom.

As you listened, you could see clearly how much it had frightened Steven. His eyes would widen, he spoke quicker and began to tremble slightly. He would glance at you from time to time, and though it was incredibly subtle, you saw him relax when your eyes locked. You began to consider part of why he had asked to meet was because he was scared to be alone, reasonably so. And maybe, just maybe, he meant it when he said you made him feel safe. Maybe you couldn't help with his insomnia, the blackouts, or the dreams. But you could make him feel less alone, make him feel safe. Maybe that was enough for now. 

He told you how it clawed, growling, about to break through the door. His reflection talked to him again there, it said that he could save him if he gave up control of the body. Steven didn't want to, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Then it went black, only for him to be on his way to his next shift when he came to. Inside the museum, he was greeted with chaos and told that the pipes had burst. When he went to JB to review the security from the previous night there was no evidence of the jackal. All it showed was Steven, implicating him for the damage. 

 That was certainly not what you'd expected to hear from him.

"Well, that's it. I got the sack. I don't blame 'em. I'm a vandal. I should've been arrested. " He sighed. "But, I have the keys I found in my flat, that's worth exploring, isn't it? Like, if I could find that storage locker, that might be my one chance to prove to myself that I'm not mad."

"Y-yeah. " You nodded, not knowing what to say. This was a lot to take in. Steven obviously wasn't well, he knew that. But at this point, the bird-man, his insomnia, the sleepwalking, those weren't his biggest problems anymore. Quite honestly, You'd thought that you would meet him and suggest he sage his flat. Or just provide support for him while he thinks about his next steps. But now, he had a cult- an actual cult led by a sorcerer after him. 

"So I- I was wondering if you'd come with me to the storage locker... " Steven glanced up at you, and you noticed how nervous he seemed. "Maybe keep an eye out for the pigeon if he shows up, y'know... I-if you want?"

"I'd be happy to. Let's go check it out."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You weren't quite sure what to do if this didn't work. You both had made it to four storage places and turned up nothing. Each time Steven would ask if you still wanted to stay, and each time you reassured him you did. You wanted to do something, to help in any way you could. He took a breath when he stepped into the next building. 

"Hiya." He greeted the man at the desk.

"Hey."

 "You all right?" Steven fidgeted.

 "Yeah."

"Yeah. Um, look, man, this is, like, the fifth branch I've been to. I'm looking for my storage locker. It's under "Steven Grant." If it's not under Steven Grant, it might be under "Marc." I don't have a surname, just Marc. Would you have a look for me, if that's all right? I know it sounds... "

You turned your attention away from the conversation before you. The room felt different, suffocating, and electric. The lights dimmed just barely, and you swore you could feel the slightest breeze. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

You were being watched. And what was watching was not happy.

You reached for Steven, wrapping your hands around his arm. He glanced at you, confused. 

"Thanks so much! You've been really helpful!" You grabbed the keys from the man at the desk. Then quickly dragged a confused Steven down the hall, towards the lockers.

 "W-what was that about?" He tilted his head to look at you, "Are you- is everything okay?"

"Yeah, should be." The lack of confidence in your voice was clear as you released your hold on him.

"T-That's not- that's not very reassuring." You really didn't want to worry him more. He was going through enough as it was and you hated to make him even more panicked.

"We may... want to hurry things up a bit. Your 'pigeon' is.. well he's not happy." You found that troubling. It only seemed to appear like this, at least so far, when Steven was looking into Marc. It was trying to keep whatever link they shared buried.  

"Y-you mean- it's here now?" He began to look around, definitely worried now.

"No. Not yet but he may decide to pop up." You looked at him and squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "It'll be okay."

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You both scanned the lockers walking down the long hall until Steven stopped.

"Oh, my God. Marc Spector." He let out a sigh, "It's real. It's totally real." 

He looked at you and you offered him a supportive smile as he opened the locker. It was surprisingly scarce. It only seemed to really hold a cot, a few boxes, and a duffel bag. Definitely a bit weird. You followed him inside and he began to look around. You weren't quite sure what to do now, so you stayed by the entrance. You wanted to be helpful somehow so you concentrated on the bird-man. You could still feel the entity. It was there... just not completely. And it was definitely keeping an eye on things.

Waiting. But for what?'

"Marc." You looked back to Steven, who had turned towards the wall. "There he is. Here he comes. Hello, man in the mirror. I was wondering if you'd pop up again." He said a bit exasperated. 

You blinked and Steven paused, before responding to the wall. This was a bit awkward. 

"More complicated? What? Am I possessed? Are you, like, a demon? Or..."

"You're not possessed, Steven. Whatever, whoever, you are talking to is not a demon. I would have known." You interrupted. Steven paused for a moment, glancing at you, the wall, and back at you. You didn't mean to interrupt him from whatever conversation he was having. You were afraid you had said something wrong by the silence that followed. "Sorry. I didn't-"

"He says I shouldn't have brought you..." he glanced at the wall again.

You stopped. 

"What? Why?"

"Marc said that I'm putting you in danger." He looked at you with a remorseful expression.

You blinked. Danger or not you cared about him. Steven was your friend, and whatever he was going through, at the very least didn't have to go through it alone. The fact that this Marc was trying to get you to leave unsettled you. Both he and the bird-man wanted their connection to Steven to stay buried.

"Look, Steven, as long as you want me to be here I'll stay. Regardless of the bird, or Marc, I don't plan to leave anytime soon because of them." You caught a brief glimmer of relief in Steven's eyes before he turned back to the wall, continuing his conversation.

"Sleep... I'm never gonna go to sleep again. You hear me? Look, I don't care how bloody handsome you are. Tell me what it is you are. What are you?" He paused again for an inaudible response.

"Khonshu? The Egyptian god of the moon? Oh, my God, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I eat one piece of steak, and then, bam, I go bonkers."

What on earth did an ancient Egyptian deity have to do with any of this? You wondered.

A slight breeze caught your attention as it ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but think of the entity. It felt older than anything you had encountered before, ancient. It felt more powerful than most spirits. And it looked suspiciously mummy-like. But that certainly didn't make it an Egyptian god. You shook your head, discarding that thought, and turned back to Steven.

Steven paused, "Oh, God. I'm having a panic attack. I need to go to a hospital." You began to reach for him, hoping to help in some way. 

"You want my body? Right, yeah. Marc, how about this for a deal? I'm gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah?" He grabbed the bag," and I'm gonna go straight to the authorities."

The lights blinked and you began to feel the presence solidify. It really wasn't happy now. "Steven- "

 "And they're gonna put me away so I don't hurt anyone else."

 "Steven."

"And hopefully, NHS will fill me with enough pills so that you get out of my head!" Steven took your hand, this time leading you through the hall.

"Steven!" He finally stopped and looked at you. "It's back."

Right on cue, the light at the end of the hall flickered once, two times. The entity stood, lit by the sickly yellow light before vanishing into the darkness.

Steven's hands flew to the bag and he began to walk backward slowly. The lights began to flicker faster, now moving down the hall towards you both. 

 Click...

Click...

Click...

You stepped back, following Steven as you kept your eyes locked on the end of the hall.

Clickclickclick.

Suddenly all you could see were bandages, rags, bone, and hollow eyes. 

It stood before you, tall, menacing, and angry.

You ran. 

Lights flickered.  

Doors rattled.  

You desperately chased after Steven, turn after turn. You could feel the annoyance, irritation, and anger rolling off the entity. You couldn't leave Steven. You couldn't let it hurt him. As you rounded a corner you saw Steven. He had stopped. You knew why. He trembled as he looked up at the entity before him. You suddenly felt annoyed. It felt slightly amused, almost entertained by his fear. And this, this pissed you off. It was terrorizing Steven at this point. It turned its head, haloed by the pale light, and for the first time you heard it speak:

"Give it back, you fool."

For a millisecond you glared at it, and the entity looked back at you. Before you could attempt to confront it you were pulled down the hallway and out of the building by a screaming Steven.

Daylight suddenly flooded your senses. You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted. You glanced down to see Steven curled up on the ground, the bag held securely in his arms.

"Marc? Where have you been?" You looked up at the source of the voice. A woman sat on a black scooter, inches from Steven. Her curly hair almost seemed to glow in the sunlight, framing her freckled face. 

"Layla?" Steven looked up at her, surprise and confusion evident in his voice.

She reached out a hand to Steven and helped him up. "Who are you?" She tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowed at you.

You nervously gave her your name with a small smile. "I-I'm a friend of Steven's."

She nodded before turning back to Steven. "Okay...We need to talk."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The three of you met back up at Steven's flat. You were surprised that Steven still wanted you to stay. Layla seemed to have answers for him. You didn't know where you stood with Layla, especially finding out she was married to Marc, who may or may not also be Steven. She quite understandably regarded you with some suspicion of your relationship with him. You didn't want to make Layla upset with you, but Steven had asked you to stay and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him no.

You felt awkward, and out of the loop, so you focused on your surroundings. It was similar to your flat, with the same bathroom tile, and the large kitchen window, but it had the details that made it very much Steven's. A large map of Egypt hung by the door, framed by postcards, displaying various landmarks. You couldn't ignore the large fish tank and of course, the single goldfish that swam in it. Not-Gus, you remembered. Steven had told you about him several times, how he picked him out because of his one fin. It made him special. You couldn't help but notice the chosen tank decor. Your eyes then drifted to the large bookshelves. You knew Steven was a bit of a bookworm, you had that in common, but you were surprised to find his flat was bordering on being considered a small library. It was certainly impressive, and the trinkets scattered about it drew your eye.

They exchanged a brief conversation about poetry in French. You glanced at the large desk by the window, books in piles on the top. You smiled to yourself as you noticed the desk under it had the pyramid paperweight you got him. One book lay open, but you were unable to make out the subject. They briefly discussed, hieroglyphics, and you couldn't help but see how excited it made Steven. Layla then took out divorce papers and you felt like you really shouldn't be there. You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of disappointment in Layla's eyes as she presented them to Steven. You turned your gaze away and looked to the ground. 

 You looked up as Steven began to open the duffel bag. He froze suddenly, seeming to double-guess himself. 

"I-it's nothing." Steven muttered as he grabbed the bag tighter. 

"Nothing?" Layla asked, before shoving him aside. You furrowed your brows at this and glanced at Steven. He didn't look at you, instead, kept his eyes locked on the bag as Layla went through it. You turned your attention to the bag, wondering what about it was so important.

Holy shit! 

Was that a gun?

Layla took a scarab out of the bag, opening a whole other can of worms, and feelings between them. Mainly more confusion on Steven's part. You weren't sure what to do or even think at this point, how to make sense of any of this. Honestly, you weren't quite sure what was happening anymore.

 "Take it. Take it. I don't want it. I swear." Steven attempted to offer her the scarab, causing her to pause. "Have it. I am not Marc Spector. I'm Steven Grant. I work at a gift shop. I used to work at a gift shop. And I-I'm in real danger and I think you might be the only person who can help me."

She opened her mouth, preparing to respond.

"Please." He begged.

 "You really don't remember why we've been looking for this?" She gently shook the scarab, " Our adventures? Or our life together?"

 "Oh god I wish I could."

 This whole situation was becoming more complicated by the second, so the knocking at the door was very much not welcomed by you.

"Steven Grant, can we have a word?" A muffled voice asked behind the door.

 "Oh, God, they've come for me." Steven said, his eyes wide. 

"Why?" Layla furrowed her brows.

 "I vandalized the toilet." Layla looked at you for an explanation. You just shook your head and sighed. Best to leave it for another time.

The knocking continued.

"Yeah, just a minute." Steven scurried over to the door.

"Steven Grant?" A voice asked.

 "Yeah?"

"DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here."

Your attention was drawn from the door by Layla gently taking your wrist. She put a finger to her lips before she steered you to the large window and quietly opened it. She dropped your wrist before climbing up onto the window still. 

What was she doing?

You furrowed your brows, and she motioned you to follow her. You glanced back at Steven, who was still by the door, before turning back to her. Seeing the seriousness in her eyes you did, albeit hesitantly. You maneuvered behind her on the roof, back to the wall. 

Gods. Oh gods. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t look down.

Layla checked on you, making sure you could stay steady before listening to the conversation inside. You couldn't make out much from your position, you were a bit preoccupied with not having a panic attack on the roof. There was something about... police...a fake passport? You hoped Steven was okay, really wishing that this could just be a big misunderstanding. 

After what felt like forever, Layla turned to you after checking the window. "They took him."

"What! Did you hear where?"

"No. But if we hurry we can follow the car." You blinked, surprised at her inclusion of you. What could you do to help any of this? So far you've just been there for emotional support, but things are complicated now. Steven needed more help or support than you could offer. She held her hand out to help you back inside. You took it and hopped inside the flat before following her down several flights of stairs. Once outside, she got on her scooter and turned to you.

 "You care about him right?" She asked. 

 She already knew the answer. 

 But you did. 

 You really did. 

 "Yeah, I do. Of course, I do." You said softly, nodding.

"Okay. Get on."

She gestured for you to sit behind her. You straddled the seat, your hands hovering awkwardly.

 Would it be too awkward to hold onto her waist? What if she didn't want you to? You just met for the first time less than an hour ago, and are basically strangers. But that's what you were supposed to do on these things. Right? 

You took a breath to stop yourself from overthinking, you had bigger things to worry about. Hesitantly, you placed your arms around her waist, leaning close to her. You almost swore you glimpsed her smirk at that as she started the scooter, causing you to tighten your hold on her.

 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Well. This was definitely not what you expected the cult of Ammit to look like. You thought it would be more...cult-like. Weird human murder rituals, maybe some chanting in ancient Egyptian around a fire, and more focus on the devouring of hearts bit. Instead, there were community gardens, kitchens, and...indoor movie nights.

You turned to Layla from your hidden corner, both of you sharing a puzzled look as you took in the view. You scanned the crowd, attempting to find Steven. It took you a moment before you noticed him sitting at the table with another man. Harrow, you remembered Steven telling you. You couldn't make out much of the conversation. Movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. In front of you, Layla was beginning to creep forward, towards the kitchen area, scarab clenched tightly in her hand.

 "Can you fight?" She turned back to you for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, a bit. Just enough to defend myself." There were at least fifty people in the room. How on earth was she going to grab Steven and get out by the two of you throwing a few punches? 

 "Okay." She nodded, "Good. We're going to have to try to make a run for it. Let's get Marc and get out."

 You nodded, sucking in a breath as she lead you to the front of the doorway.

 "Where is the scarab." You heard a voice demand.

 "I have it." Layla announced, her voice echoing in the large room. She stepped forward, glancing around the room.

"Let me have it. I'll keep it safe." Harrow said, eyes locked on the golden beetle.

"There is no deal in this, Marc. Fix this. Fix this!" The bird-man was back suddenly, standing behind Steven. You peered around the entity, offering a small smile to Steven as you and Layla stopped next to him.

"Summon the Suit." Layla told Steven.

 "S-sorry what?"

"Summon the suit." She looked at him confused, he didn't know what she meant.

 "Summon the soup? What are you saying-"

 "The suit. And keep this safe." She handed him the scarab.

"So be it." Harrow announced.

"Let's go! Let's Go!" She grabbed both you and Steven and began to drag you along. 

A few people began to make their way toward you. You took a breath and clenched your fists. As the group got too close the three of you shoved them off, before breaking into a sprint. You and Steven took off after Layla up the metal stairs, footsteps thundering. You heard a thump and a sound like shattering glass, coming from the lower floor.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

 Oh no.

 You suddenly, and quite conveniently remembered that Steven mentioned Harrow had the ability to summon things.

"Steven!" Layla shouted. You lost sight of her as she found the corner, replaced with a man blocking the path forward. You both stopped. The chaos beginning to unfold was beginning to feel overwhelming. You risked a glance back, a group of people were making their way up the stairs. The two of you were trapped. Unsure of where to go next, you hesitated, debating whether to attempt to swing at him or face the group behind you. Steven took this chance to grab your hand and pull you past the man and up another stairway, just in time to see Layla throw someone over the railing.

"That was awesome." Steven complimented her. You nodded quickly in agreement, before sprinting after them. Maybe later you could ask Steven if you could take his wife out sometime.

As you panted, your feeling of unease returned, stronger this time. Whatever Harrow had summoned was not too far behind you. You made it through a pair of wooden doors, Steven and Layla locking them behind you.

You took a gasp of air, and looked at Steven, "Jackal." 

"Oh my god," Steven muttered. "I'm going to die in an evil magician's man cave."

Layla rushed over to him. The doors began to rattle. If this was the same thing that Steven had encountered before behind a metal door, there was no way you'd stand a chance.

"No. No. Hey. Listen to me. Your name is Marc. You have a suit, I've seen you use it. You bring it out. " Steven shook his head, getting more panicked by the second

You turned your attention to the door, the rattling getting faster. 

 Shit.

Normal ghosts couldn't hurt you. Normal ghosts couldn't kill you. But this wasn't a ghost, or a spirit, or anything you were familiar with. You glanced around for something to use as a potential weapon. 

Sarcophagi, more sarcophagi.

Chair!

You picked up the small chair. It was already well on its way to crumbling, you'd just have to help it along. You tossed it as hard as you could. The leg cracked off, thankfully just enough to serve as a short rod. You picked it up and tightened your grip around it. The rattling became louder, and faster.

"Hey, guys!" You looked at them, Steven and Layla crouched on the ground. "We don't have much longer."

Layla glanced at you, and looked around the room, in an effort to locate an exit.

"Let's go." She hopped up a ladder. You were about to follow her when the doors were flung open. The jackal let out a cry and began to run toward you and Steven. He started to back away, and you prepared to swing. 

 One...

Two...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the final swing.

Three-

You were thrown aside as the jackal shoved past you. You landed on your side, the wooden leg clattering against the floor. 

Ow.

What ensued next happened in a blur. 

You briefly registered that the jackal charged into Steven, just in time to see them both tumble out the window.

You glanced at Layla, in shock before scurrying to stand. You clutched the rod before making it down the fire escape. You begin to search the unfamiliar setting looking for Steven. You felt on edge, and ready to jump into fight or flight mode, so when you heard the splintering of wood it nearly caused you to jump out of your skin. You turned to see a white blur get thrown through a wooden gate.

The man in a completely white suit with a mask, topped with a crescent moon and glowing eyes, then immediately proceeded to rip a bumper off a car.

 "Y-you look different." Layla commented. So this must be a similar suit to the one she referenced earlier.

"Steven! Look out!" As much as you'd love to comment on this surprising wardrobe change, you were busy watching as the jackal stalked up behind him. 

It slammed him against a car. Layla tried to walk toward him but you grabbed her arm. She looked at you. 

"Don't. It's right there."

"No! Don't try and come near me!" Steven warned as he was thrown against the car again. The jackal turned to her, letting out a deep growl and baring its teeth.

You tried to pull her away but the jackal swiped at her before you could, throwing her onto the ground, and pulling you along with her. The fall happened too quickly for you to brace yourself, and your head hit the ground. You brought a hand to the spot and hissed. You turned around when you heard glass shatter.

Layla stood by the jackal, shards of broken glass revealing it. It roared, before proceeding to take them both by the neck. You stood and felt for the rod. It was gone. You frantically looked for something you could use. Your eyes caught a glint, and you turned to see a decent-sized shard of glass. You clutched it, before making your way behind the jackal, keeping your steps quiet. It sneered at Steven as he fought against its grip, Layla attempting to do the same. You took a breath and shoved the shard into its lower back. It howled. Then it tossed them aside, before turning towards you, snarling. and doing the same. You hit the damp stone ground again and groaned. 

Your attacks were barely doing anything to the creature. Without an actual weapon or a way to escape the three of you didn't stand a chance.

Your attention was caught by a scream.

 Layla.

You glanced around. Finally located the wooden leg off to the side. As you clutched it, you noted the crack beginning to form. You looked back to Layla, the jackal held her by her leg. Steven charged towards it only to be knocked aside. You prepared to run towards the jackal. Only to stop, when you heard Steven shout.

"Yeah. I see you-you pug-ugly coyote. You're on the wrong ends, mate. You're in my yard now." He threw his jacket on the ground and rolled his sleeves. He had entirely too much confidence for someone who just got tossed around like a rag-doll. You looked at Layla, your confusion mirrored on her face.

"Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. My name's Steven with a 'V'!" He hit it square in the face, before exclaiming excitedly. He called to you and Layla, "Did you see that!" Right before being kicked into the street, repeatedly slammed against a bus, and falling to the ground, face first.

 Ouch. You cringed.

You took a step towards him, preparing to make sure he was okay. Layla grabbed your arm and nodded towards the street. You looked back to Steven watching as he stood. His suit... changed. Strands of linen wrapped around him, ending with a hood and cape. He turned to face the two of you, eyes still glowing. You blinked, taking in the new situation. You couldn't help but notice this was the second appearance of the crescent moon on the costume. Weird. 

"Get it out of here!" Layla shouted.

Steven hopped on top of a van, before climbing up a nearby building, the jackal pursuing him. A second later, he disappeared onto the roof.

Layla turned to you a few moments later. "Come on. I'll drive you home. We should probably should check that cut out. It doesn't look too good." You were a bit surprised at how calm she sounded. The three of you had just faced a dangerous entity summoned by the power of an ancient goddess. You shook lightly.

"Cut?" You asked.

Almost as if an answer, you felt a drop of warm liquid run down the side of your face. You felt it and brought your finger back to find it stained red. The adrenaline began to wear off, and you noted pounding on the side of your head.

"O-oh." You followed her, trailing behind a bit, processing what happened. "But what about Steven? The jackal?"

"He's got the suit now. He'll be okay, this isn't the first time he's done stuff like this." You nodded. The two of you turned the corner and met with the scooter. You climbed on.

The sound of shuffling behind you caught both of your attention. You turned to see a man hand a golden, and suspiciously scarab-shaped object to Harrow. He took the man's hand. You saw him convulse briefly, before dropping to the ground. 

Dead. 

What shocked you besides the murder that only occurred a few yards from you, was that this man's soul leave didn't leave the way you were used to. You felt a hunger from Harrow. And you had a distinct feeling that the soul had been...eaten. Consumed? But not by him. Through him. That was the only way you could attempt to explain it. Just as Harrow began to turn towards you, Layla sped off, leaving you to wonder what you had just witnessed.

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[juneknight]

The bartender sets down a drink on the glossy wood of the bar, right beside the whiskey you’ve been sipping at for the last hour. You glance up, brows raised in question, and all the man does is smile enigmatically and nod his head towards the other side of the room. 

“From the gentleman in the corner with the cap.” 

You scowl and refuse to look. The drink is some fruity, colorful concoction—nothing like the serious whiskey on the rocks you are drinking. How bold was it for a man to send you a drink that you wasn't even one he knew you would drink? Then again, if the bartender’s description was accurate, you knew that this wasn’t just any man. 

“You don’t like it?” a smooth voice asks as he takes a seat beside you, a respectable, non-threatening distance away while still close enough to speak over the sound of other patrons. With him comes the soft scent of leather, cologne. Masculine, but not overpowering. This isn’t a man who dabs on a Walmart discount aisle fragrance before he goes out, looking to attract women. This is a man who takes care of himself—and you are sure the women flock to him like flies to honey.

Women, but not you. 

“Back again for more rejection, Jake?” You hold up your hand, the simple silver bands inlaid with diamonds on your third finger; the one that girls in grade school would say had a vein which led to the heart; as if all fucking veins did not lead back to the heart eventually. “Have you forgotten? I’m married.” 

“I didn’t forget.” He reaches out and runs a finger through the condensation that has beaded on your glass, leading to the square paper napkin which has gone soggy: a testament to how long you have been sitting at that very bar, nursing that single drink. “It looks like your husband did, though. How late is he?”

[flordelalunas]

One of the best fics I’ve read when I first joined tumblr 😛

set fire to me, leave me begging for more [18+]

Jake Lockley x female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

summary: you and your friends go on a pub-crawl and eventually you meet a mysterious stranger who takes you on the best ride of your life, literally.

warnings: substance use (alcohol), club scenes(idk), oral (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, riding (that’s like the main thing), car sex, outdoor sex(?), squirting, not beta-read because that’s how we roll

word count: 7k

a/n: please for the love of god if u find yourself in a similar situation like y/n DO NOT be like them and go off with random strangers promising you a good time, no matter how hot they are XD also I tried with the Spanish, i swear, consulted multiple different websites because i know google translate is unreliable asf.

_______

It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night, and you’d been lounging on the couch in your cozy apartment, nursing a glass of wine when you heard the doorbell ring, followed by multiple shouts of your name through the front door.

“One second!” you shout, recognizing the voices of your friends and wondering why they’d showed up unexpectedly. Not that you minded, really, but you had been looking forward to a quiet night in with some wine, cheap takeout and whatever movie might have been playing on the TV.

You open the door, and before you can get a word in, your friends are pushing their way into your apartment, all excitedly talking over each other about how they were here to pick you up and go have some fun.

“Uh, guys? What- wait, can someone tell me what’s going on?” you ask as your friends busy themselves with going through your wardrobe.

“We’re going clubbing bestie!” one of your friends exclaims, grabbing your wine glass out of your hand before steering you towards the bathroom. “Come on, it’s been ages since we last did something exciting ‘cause we’re always busy with stuff.”

You sigh, because, yes, it’s true that you and your friends hadn’t really had the chance to hang out, and yes, you did think it would do you some good to actually go outside for a change, but-

“Yeah, I can tell you’re debating this, and I’m not letting you do that,” your friend declares, before unceremoniously pushing you into your bathroom. “Go take a shower. We’ll pick out something for you, and then we’re heading out!”

You hear a chorus of ‘hell yeah’s before the bathroom door is closed shut and you’re left standing in front of your bathroom sink, taking in the disheveled appearance of your reflection.

“Screw it, let’s do this,” you mutter, running your hand through your hair, before stepping into the shower.

You were going to make up for months of not going out by having the best night of your life, and you were going to look good doing it.

---

Twenty minutes later, you’re stepping out of your still steaming bathroom, and you find your friends surrounded by a pile of clothes, each one of them picking up different items and trying to style them into a full outfit.

“You’re helping me clean up after this, I swear to god,” you groan, as you make your way to your dresser. You fiddle with your hair, unsure of what to do with it, before ultimately deciding to just let it stay down as it is.

“Okay, [Y/N], you have to wear this!” You watch your friends through the mirror you’re sitting in front of, and they’re all nodding in agreement as one of them holds up a mini dress, one you don’t remember wearing in a long time.

They’re looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to try it on. You know that if it really came to it, they’d let you walk out in your pajamas if that’s what you wanted, but they looked so excited and it wouldn’t hurt to try it on, so you walk up to them and grab the dress, stomping your feet and huffing, making a show of how much of a pain this all was (it really wasn’t).

You’re all making idle chit-chat as you pull the dress on, and once it’s completely on you, your friends start cheering and whistling, which honestly made you feel just a little bit better about yourself.

Growing up, you never had the best view of yourself, and even though you know better now, even though you know that you’re good-looking, sometimes the little voice in your head still manages to convince you that you’re not perfect the way you are.

Your friends help though. They’re always there to remind you just how smart, beautiful and amazing you are, and you couldn’t be happier in that moment, standing among your them in your small, messy bedroom as you get ready to go have some fun.

The dress itself helps. It’s black, with sheer balloon sleeves and a deep V neckline, and it fits perfectly on your body, accentuating your silhouette in a way that you knew was definitely flattering. You quickly slip on some jewelry and your heels, before you and your friends file out of your apartment and make your way out onto the street.

“Alright bitches, let’s get wild!”

---

The first pub you and your friends hit was pretty quaint. It was mostly silent, even for the time of night it was, so you all just sit at a table and get your preferred drinks, talking about anything and everything. It seemed like this particular pub was hosting a trivia night, which your friends decided would be fun to participate in, just for the heck of it. You get most of the answers wrong, but it was the most fun you had had in ages, laughing with your friends and just relaxing with them.

The second and third ones were a little louder in comparison. You’re pretty buzzed already at that point, which means you’re being louder than usual, adding to the noise of the pub. You stumble to the bar, arms linked with your friend so you can grab your group’s drinks, when you bump into someone, almost making them spill their drink.

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry-“ you start to say, freezing when you feel a hand grab your elbow to help you right yourself.

“It’s alright,” a gruff voice mutters, the words almost lost to the loud chatter in the pub. You look up to see the man who still had his hand on you, and when your eyes meet, he straightens up and lets his hand fall back down to his side, before nodding at you and your friend and walking towards to the back of the pub.

You and your friend turn to each other, wide-eyed, because you were both pretty similar and obviously thinking the same thing.

That guy is super-hot.

You manage to get your drinks, and you and your friend make your way back to your table to join the rest of the group when you make eye contact with the man from earlier, who’s sitting at the table closest to yours. His large hand is gripping the neck of a beer bottle, and suddenly your skin feels warmer as you watch his eyes scanning your body, gaze moving from your face all the way down to your feet and back up to your face, before the right side of his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“[Y/N], he is totally checking you out,” your friend whispers. Everyone at the table starts giggling while you focus on passing everyone’s drinks to avoid embarrassing yourself. You eventually take your seat at the table, and by some twist of fate, you’re right in the man’s line of sight.

You sip your drink, something mild and citrusy as you take in the man’s appearance. He’s dressed more formally than you’d expect for a night and time like this, in a white dress shirt and tie under a dark jacket with its collar popped up, a flat cap completing his look. You couldn’t tell how much time passed, with the two of you just staring at each other, occasionally breaking eye-contact when you would turn to address your friends, who kept urging you to go over and talk to the man. There was a part of you that wanted to do just that, but tonight was supposed to be about having a good time with your friends, so you resist the compulsion to walk up to him. That doesn’t stop you from checking him out from time-to-time.

It was around 11 p.m. when you and your friends head out of the pub, deciding to hit a nightclub that was close by. You look over to the table the man was sitting at, only to find that he’d already left. Feeling slightly disappointed, you walk out of the pub, where you and your friends stand debating if you should just wait for a taxi or book one.

You’d been leaning against the outside wall of the pub, wondering if going to a nightclub after hitting three different pubs was really a good idea, when you spot the man from earlier. He’s leaning against a street lamp, a little farther away from you, and when you look up at him, he’s already looking at you, his gazing moving across your form just like it had earlier.

Maybe it was the buzz from the alcohol, maybe it was the way your friends were letting out low whistles and waggling their eyebrows at you, but you suddenly find yourself taking deliberate steps towards the man, managing to stumble only once on your way there.

“Hey,” you whisper as you stand beside him. From this close, you take the time to observe all his features, your eyes immediately landing on the little bandage he has on the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he drawls out, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Can I help you?”

Well…now what?

“Um…”

Just as you were about to most probably make a fool of yourself, your friends step in, telling the stranger that you were all headed to the club, before asking him if he wanted to join.

“Sure…I could drive you guys there.”

---

“You ride a limo?”

“It’s…a company vehicle.”

“Oh, okay…”

When the man (you still didn’t know his name, you should probably definitely ask for it sometime soon) told you that he could drive you and your friends there, you expected him to lead you to a regular car, maybe a CUV, or an SUV. The last thing you’d expected to be led to was an honest-to-God limousine.

It was stark white, with vanity plates that read ‘SPKTR’ and red interiors. While your friends stand around marveling at the limo, excited about the turn of events their night had taken, you stand in silence, stealing glances at the man, until he turned around to look at you.

“My name’s Jake. Jake Lockley,” he says, extending his hand forward. You try not to stare at him as you take his hand and shake it. His grip was firm, and his hands felt soft, save for the few callouses he had on his fingers. “So, what’s yours?”

You’d been holding onto his hand, and it took a few seconds for his question to register in your mind, but eventually, you pull your hand back to push a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m [Y/N].” You know your cheeks are flaming red, and you’re hoping that it’s dark enough outside to hide it.

He nods, before going up to the limo and opening the door for your friends, who eagerly get in. He then walks up to the passenger side of the limo and holds the door open for you, taking your hand as you step in. He closes the door behind you and you shift in your seat, pulling at the ends of your dress to make sure they didn’t ride up your thighs, as he makes his way to the other side of the limo and takes his place on the driver’s side.

He looked back at your friends through the open partition. You follow his gaze to find your friends staring at you both with shit-eating grins.

“Ready?” Jake asks.

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” your friend yells. Jake chuckles before turning back to you and quirking an eyebrow. He seemed to be waiting for something, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. You tilt your head, wondering why he hadn’t started driving yet.

“Seatbelt,” he whispers, motioning towards it, and you scramble to pull it on as he pulls the limousine out of it’s parking spot, before driving towards your next destination.

What a night.

---

“Oh my god, this is my song you guys, we have to go dance, right now!” your friend yells over the booming music in the nightclub.

You, your friends and Jake had arrived a few minutes ago and had gone up to the bar, where Jake had decided to buy a round of drinks for the group. You’d all spent some time talking, you and your friends taking turns asking Jake questions to get to know him, and vice versa. He wasn’t the most talkative, preferring to sip his drink in silence and watch you and your friends having a good time instead.

At some point, your friends had all moved to the dance floor, leaving you and Jake sitting near the bar. The conversation had moved from friendly curiosity about each other’s lives to flirting. Emboldened by the alcohol you slip one of your heels off, before trailing your toes against his calf and watching the grip he has on his glass tighten.

The music changes then, to something even more sensuous than before, and you slowly put your heel back on before abandoning your drink. You’d had enough for the night, and you had something different planned.

“Let’s dance,” you say as you grab Jake’s hand, pulling him to his feet and weaving through the crowd of grinding bodies until you’re both right in the middle of the dance floor. You turn towards him and when you see that he’s still standing a few inches away from you, you grab his tie, using it to pull him closer to you until your bodies are pressed flush against each other.

You let the music guide you as you move against Jake, feeling his hands settle against your hips. Slowly and furtively, you sway to the music, rocking your hips against his, and you’re surprised when he does the same, especially with how he moves to the beat. You bring your arms up and around his neck, tangling your fingers in the curls on the back of his head and pulling lightly, feeling your core clench when you see his lips part and his nostrils flare slightly.

Fuck, he is so hot.

Jake brings one of his hands to the side of your face, his fingers pushing back a strand of your hair that had fallen over your face. His hand lingers there for a few seconds, before he moves it down to rest on your lower back.

The heat emanating from his hand burned your skin through your dress, and suddenly you were hyper aware of just how close together you were standing. His piercing gaze was becoming too much for you to handle, so you turn around to press your back against him, grinding your hips against his as you bring his arms around you. You feel his warm breath wash over against the side of your neck as he leans his head down to rest it against your shoulder. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Jake whispers into your ear as you rest your hands over his as they rested over your stomach.

You take the time to think about it. Was it really a good idea to go off with a man you’d just met an hour ago? Sure, he was extremely good-looking, and he hadn’t really raised any alarms in you yet, but he was still a stranger. All you knew about him was that he worked for a ‘private company’, did some ‘contract work’ and drove a limousine.

Something in you said you should take him up on his offer though. It’d been a while since you’d done anything exciting and this seemed pretty damn exciting.

Jake hums, before saying, “We don’t have to-“

“Let’s do it,” you cut him off, turning back towards him and picking at the collar of his shirt to keep from staring at his eyes. “I need to use the bathroom though, give me a minute yeah?”

You smile at Jake before scurrying off to the bathroom, walking through the crowd of drunk people. Your heart is in your throat by the time you lock yourself in a stall, leaning against the door as you take deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You pull out your phone to shoot a quick text to the group chat, hoping your friends see it.

┏

guys, jake just asked if i wanted to ‘get outta here’ and i said yes hafshshdh

OMG [Y/N]’s ABOUT TO GET LAID Y’ALL WOOOO

um wait, is this a good idea??? i mean i barely know the guy…

Babes, it’s your call. If you do go though, keep us updated on your location.

oh hell yeaaa, [Y/N] you better give us all the deets later!!!!!

okay okay ig I’m doing this oh god-

DON’T FORGET TO USE A CONDOM!!!! DO U HAVE SOME? IF NOT, COME GET ME BEFORE U LEAVE, I HAVE SOME!!!

Jfc okay, [Y/N] be careful, have fun, text us if anything comes up <333

YESSS HAVE FUN WE LOVE YOUUU

alright, thanks guys, text y’all later <33

┛

You don’t stay in the stall for too long after that, walking out to the sinks to splash some water onto your face. You fix your hair and makeup before making your way back to Jake, who had moved back to bar to get out of the crowd.

“So, where are we going?” you ask as you link your arm in his, leaning into him slightly and reveling in the warmth of his body. He looks down at you clinging to his arm and quirks his lips in a half-smile.

“We could go on a drive,” he says as he leads you out of the nightclub. You’re disoriented for a bit because of the sudden absence of noise and the cold winding that hits you the second you’re outside. “I know this place, it’s an hour away. Only if you want to though.”

Jake waits for you to answer, but you’re distracted by how the wind is biting at the skin of your exposed legs, and how your sleeves aren’t doing much to protect your arms. You’re shivering when Jake slowly pulls away from you, making you whine at the loss of slight body heat you’d been getting from him.

“Lo siento, cariño. Give me one second,” Jake whispers, before pulling off his jacket. “Aquí.”

He drapes his jacket over your shoulders, adjusting it until it fell perfectly over your body. You instantly feel better, the wind less harsh on your body now that you were more covered up (and maybe the rise in your own temperature from hearing Jake speak Spanish helped too).

“So, can I take you on a ride?” he asks, smirking when he sees you shiver despite being bundled up in his jacket.

“Yes, please…” you all but moan as you lean into him, before you’re being led back to his limo with his arm around your waist.

God, what a fucking night.

---

“So…” you begin to say, leaning against the door of the passenger side to look at Jake. “You’re not taking me somewhere remote and creepy to murder me, right?”

He chuckled. “No, it’s my day off.”

"What?"

"It's nothing."

Jake Lockley, the mysterious man you’d only met a couple of hours prior to getting into his limo and agreeing to go on a long drive with him, kept his gaze on the road ahead of him, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove.

You were on an open stretch of road, with barely any other cars around. You might have been extremely buzzed when you’d entered the limo with Jake, but you’d sobered up pretty quickly once the reality of the situation hit you. You were with a beautiful man, driving to an unknown location where you were assuming (and really hoping) you were going to have a good time. You had rolled the window down at some point, and you looked at all the scenery that you passed by, leaning your head on your crossed-over arms which you’d rested on the window frame. The wind in your hair, and the soft music playing on the radio added a dream-like feeling to the situation. You hadn’t felt this relaxed in quite some time, and it felt nice, getting away from everything for a while.

Eventually, you feel the limo pull to a stop, so you straighten up to take in your surroundings. It’s pretty dark outside, save for the moon and the stars lighting up the area, and one lone street lamp in the distance. You watch Jake get out of the limo, before walking to your side and opening the door for you, taking your hand and shielding your head as you step out.

“Oh, wow…” you mutter, taking in the view before you. “What is this place?”

You’re on a cliffside as far as you can tell, and you hear waves crashing as the familiar scent of the ocean wafts over to you.

“I’m sure it’s got a name,” Jake says as he stands beside you, leaning against the hood of the limo. “But I don’t know it. Just happened upon the place during…a job…”

You hum in acknowledgment as you lean against him, resting your head against his shoulder as you look up at the moon. You try not to think about how intimate this moment feels as Jake slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“Qué guapa eres…” you hear him whisper, and just as you’re about to ask him what that means, he steps in front of you, taking your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, bending his head down to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. Words escape you, so you retort to grabbing his collar and pressing your lips firm against his. He stepped closer to you, pressing you against the hood of the limo as his hands moved up to hold your face. His lips were warm and soft, and you taste the whiskey that he had been drinking earlier when they part, allowing your tongue to slip inside.

You feel your heart beating against your chest, warmth spreading across your skin as your lips tingle from the kiss. Jake’s cologne, something mild and musky, was dizzying, and your hands land on his back, fingers clutching his shirt as you lean into the kiss. You and Jake kiss for a long time, pulling away and going back in, each kiss growing more desperate and messier than the last. Jake’s arousal presses against your belly, and you clench your thighs in anticipation, biting into his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

You break away from him after what feels like hours, breathing heavily as you bring your fingers up to your now plump and wet lips, and you peer at Jake as you shrug his jacket off of your shoulders, which makes his gaze fall down to your heaving chest. The next few minutes were a blur as Jake leaned his head down and nudged his nose against your neck and trailed it up to the spot behind your ear that made your knees shake. One of his hands trail up your body before settling on your breast, groping slightly as he presses his knee between your legs, right against your clothed pussy, making you moan embarrassingly loud.

Jake leaves kisses on your neck, occasionally biting at the skin behind your ear as he grinds his knee against your core. You grind back against him, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. Right when you think you’re about to reach your peak, he pulls away, before grabbing the back of your thighs and hoisting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around him.

“I want to taste you,” he whispers against your cheek as you pant against his ear. His voice sounds hoarse, and it sends a shock down your spine, making you shake in his hold.

“Oh god, yes-“ you cry out as he moves to the passenger door, somehow getting it open even with you squirming in his arms and biting at his throat. He lays you down on the plush leather seat, and you lean on your elbows with your legs bent over the edge of the seat. Jake was still outside the limo, kneeling on the ground as his hands trailed up your thigh, rucking up your dress as he rests his hands on your hips. The cold air is hitting your clothed core, making you aware of just how wet you’d gotten, and your thighs quiver as Jake’s thumbs rub circles into your inner thighs.

“This okay?” he whispers, dipping his thumbs into your underwear just a little, watching you as you gasp for breath. You nod quickly, lifting your hips up in the air to urge him to take off your underwear, which he does. Jake makes quick work of taking it off and you’re hit with a wave of embarrassment as you feel it peel off of you from where it had stuck to your soaking wet pussy, but before you can dwell too much on it, your legs are being lifted and placed on Jake’s shoulders.

“Jake, please- oh my god, please-“ you whine, as Jake licks and bites his way up to where you’re craving attention. You’re aware of how much your gushing, and just when you’re about to beg for him to put his mouth on you, you feel his tongue lick a stripe up through your soaking folds all the way to your clit, making you buck up against him, trying to feel more of his mouth on you.

He continues laving his tongue through your folds, sucking them into his mouth and smiling against your skin when he hears the sounds that escape your mouth. Your hand shoots out and moves to the top of his head, pushing off his cap before your fingers grab onto his hair. Your thighs clench around his head as he traces his tongue around your clit, and you feel all your blood rushing down to that one area, making you throb with need. You’d felt his light stubble on your neck earlier, but feeling them between your legs was something else altogether, pushing you closer to the edge.

“[Y/N], you taste like heaven-” Jake whispered once he surfaced from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He licks his lips as he moves his fingers over your wet pussy, sliding them through your folds and watching as you clench.

“Te ves muy guapa…”

You moan as his finger dips into you, sliding in effortlessly from the combined wetness of your arousal and Jake’s saliva on you. His finger thrusts in and out of you, and you beg for more, until one finger becomes two and you’re grinding back against his hand, hoping he’d pick up the pace and just fuck you already.

You don’t realize that you’d said that last part out loud until you hear Jake click his tongue before saying something about being patient. You have half the mind to thrash around and take matters into your own hands, but ultimately, Jake gives in and starts thrusting his fingers into you faster, adding in a third finger to stretch you out. It doesn’t take him long to find the bundle of nerves inside you that has you screaming his name and cumming on his fingers. You ride out your first orgasm for the night, thrusting your hips back against the fingers that were still inside you, massaging your walls and coaxing out weak moans from your mouth.

Jake pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs as you catch your breath, slowly pulling out his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, making you groan.

You were still recovering from the feeling of Jake’s large fingers stretching you when he straightens up and unbuttons his slacks, giving you a clear view of the outline of his dick pressing against his pants. You stand on shaky legs and grip his tie to steady yourself, before moving your fingers to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them as quickly as you could. Jake rips off his tie, before helping you with his shirt buttons until they’re all undone and he shrugs it off, before chucking it and his tie through the partition in the limo.

Just as you’re about to lie back down against the seat, Jake moves around you and sits on the seat, before pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, his hands moving under your dress and grabbing your bare ass as your arms move to wrap around his neck.

“Fuck me, fuck me please-“ you pant against his mouth, grinding against his still-clothed dick. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Jake moves his hands to his crotch, pulling down the zipper of his pants ever-so-slowly as you lean against the dashboard and watch him, biting your lips at the sight of his pecs and hard abs as they flexed in the low light of the moon. He eventually pulls his dick out, and your jaw slackens as you take in his size, itching to get your hands around him. You give in to your urges, wrapping one hand around the thick base of his cock, feeling him jerk under your fingers.

You pay close attention to his face as you slowly jerk him off, moving your hand up and down his cock, using his precum to ease your way. His breathing turns shallow, and his eyebrows are knitted together as he stares at your hands. The air around you grows hotter and heavier as Jake lets out a low moan, raising his hips slightly to chase the feeling of your hands once you move them away.

You move to grab your purse, just as Jake’s arm moves around you to open the glove compartment, both of you reaching to grab a condom. Jake manages to fish one out first, which he quickly pulls out of the foil and slips onto his cock.

“[Y/N]…” he grunts, mouthing at the skin of your chest that is exposed due to the deep V-neck of your dress. “Ride me baby, c’mon-“

It doesn’t take much more than that for you to hike your dress up over your thighs and you move to hover over Jake, holding his cock to line it up to your hole, rubbing the head against your soaking wet folds, before slowly moving down to take him within you. Despite how Jake had stretched you out with three fingers, it still takes some effort for his cock to finally push into you.

“Relax,” Jake whispers, grabbing onto your thighs as you flex them to lower yourself further onto his dick, whimpering as you feel his length fill you deep, pressing into you further than his fingers had. You knew you were clenching around him, and it couldn’t have been all that comfortable for him, but Jake remained patient, rubbing your thighs to comfort you as you continued taking him in, wondering just how big he was.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re big-“

“Fuck- [Y/N]-“

Inch by inch, Jake’s dick fills you until you’re completely seated on his lap. You’re gasping against his shoulder, thighs quivering as you feel his cock jerk inside you a little.

“Está apretadito…”

You can’t do much else beside whine and mouth at any and every part of Jake’s body that you can reach, your fingers tangling in his curls as you raise your hips slowly, feeling his cock drag against your inner walls, before you drop back down in one swift thrust, moaning out Jake’s name. Your hands find purchase on Jake’s chest, nails digging in and leaving red welts in his skin and you ride him, raising and lowering your hips rhythmically.

“You’re so fucking sexy, [Y/N],” Jake groans, his hands moving to the sleeves of your dress before pulling them down your arms, exposing your breasts and making your nipples perk up. Your fingers pull his curls hard when his mouth moves over your breasts, kissing and sucking bruises into the skin, making you throw your head back and moan loudly.

You continue riding Jake’s cock, going faster when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth as he tweaks the other between his fingers, scratching it softly with his fingernail, causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. You thighs feel sore, and you’re worried you’re going to collapse from exhaustion when Jake uses his grip on your waist to lean you back on the dashboard, before planting his feet firmly on the floor of the limo and-

“Oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck- Jake, please-“ you scream, as he thrusts up into you, managing to nail right over the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out with every buck of his hips. Before you can really process what you’re about to say, the words bubble out of your mouth and you moan out, “Oh, papi-“

You feel Jake’s hips stilling, and you gaze down at him through your lashes, your hips grinding back and forth. You’re starting to wonder if you made a mistake, when Jake’s grip on your hip tightens and suddenly he’s slamming you back down on his cock, before raising you up and doing it all over again, making you scream his name repeatedly until your head lolls to the side and all you can do is let out weak moans as Jake continues to fuck you.

“Say it again,” he grunts, bringing one of his hands up to his head to push his hair back. “Say it again cariño.”

“Papi…please- I want to cum, fuck-“

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and you feel all your muscles clench and quiver as you cum around Jake’s cock. He watches in mild amusement as you writhe over him, before he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing it mercilessly as you ride your orgasm, causing you to clench even harder before you-

“¡Mierda!” Jake exclaims, his eyes widening as you buck up and squirt all over his stomach, sobbing from the overstimulation.

You rise up and off of Jake’s cock before flopping back against the dashboard. Jake stares into your eyes as he runs his fingers through the wetness on his abs, before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean, smirking when he sees the way your thighs clench slightly.

“Stop, oh god- I don’t think I can take anymore…” you groan out, making him laugh.

Jake hums, before reaching a hand under the seat and pulling a small bag, out of which he pulls out a towel. He quickly wipes himself down, before reaching down to wipe at the mess between your thighs. You flinch, the rough material of the towel making your skin tingle slightly.

“Fuck, it’s cramped in here.” You maneuver around Jake’s form, trying to step out of the car with without accidentally stabbing him with your heels. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this…”

You manage to get out of the car and step to the side, before you catch your reflection on the tinted window of the larger compartment of the limousine, and realize just how promiscuous you look. Your dress was still pulled down under your breasts, which were bare and on display. You lean closer to examine the various bruises Jake had left on your skin, biting your lips as you trail your fingers across your skin.

Jake eventually steps out, and you turn to look at him, smiling in satisfaction when you see that he’s just as ruffled up as you are. His curls are a mess, and his skin is littered with bruises and lipstick stains, but unlike you, he’d made some attempt to cover back up and tucked himself back into his pants. He steps towards you, moving to pull your dress back over you and smoothing his hands down your arms, before turning back around to pick his flat cap and jacket that you had discarded earlier. Once he’d grabbed those and flung them into the limo, he made his way back to you, standing close to, before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. There’s something so soft about it, and Jake holds you like something precious, like he wants to cherish you, and it leaves you feeling fuzzy.

---

Jake had taken care to clean you both up as much as he could before you shuffled in and leaned against him before promptly falling asleep with your legs folded under you.

When you wake up, your head is in Jake’s lap, who is awake, staring out the window with his fingers carding through your hair. He feels you squirming against him, at which point he looks down at you with a small smile.

“Good timing, there’s something you need to see,” he says as you move to sit back up. An open bottle of water is pushed into your hands, and you take big gulps, hoping the water would wash down the taste of the several alcoholic beverages you’d had the night before. Jake gets out of the limo, before grabbing his clothes from the back compartment and quickly pulling them on. You slide out too, smoothing the skirt of your dress over your thighs as you walk up to Jake, who’s standing at the edge of the cliff.

“What’s going on?” you ask, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning against him. “You want to- oh…”

You’re left speechless as you watch the sun slowly creep up over the horizon, casting a rosy hue across the sky. The golden rays of the sun hit the water, making the ocean gleam.

You sigh. “Believe it or not, I’ve never actually seen the sunrise in person…it’s amazing.”

Jake hums, before slinging his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. “I’m glad I got to show you then.”

You stand there in silence, losing yourself to the moment. You look up at Jake Lockley, the man who had somehow managed to squeeze his way into your heart within just hours of meeting him, the man who had brought you to a beautiful cliffside, where he had given you the time of your life, the man who stepped away from you and held out his hand for you to grab, before leading you back to his fucking limousine and driving all the way back into the city, back to your regular, boring life.

And the whole way back, all you could do was stare at the side of Jake’s face as your phone buzzed inside your purse, wondering what kind of fate had put this man in your path.

---

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? I can get you coffee, if you want,” Jake says, as he drives to your neighborhood.

“No, no, I’m good, thank you.”

The rest of the ride goes by with you and Jake making idle conversation, talking about the most random things that came to mind. It’s comfortable, surprisingly so, and you can’t even hide your disappointment when Jake eventually pulls up to your apartment building. He steps out of the limo and walks over to the passenger door to open it for you, holding out his hand to help you out like he’d done before, and you’re hit with the sensation of butterflies in your stomach.

Oh, this is bad.

You walk up to the front door of your building, and Jake follows you with his hands in his pockets. You’re almost tempted to invite him upstairs but you hold back, not wanting to come off as desperate.

“Thank you…” you say once you’re at the door. “For last night, and today…I had a really good time.” You’re blushing furiously by the time you’re done talking, and you stare down at your feet, kicking at a stone on the stoop.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jake whispers.

A few moments of silence pass, before Jake sighs and fidgets with his flat cap, pulling it off to run his fingers through his hair.

“I’d like to see you again, if that’s something you want too,” he says reaching his arm towards you and holding your hand.

“Yes!” you blurt out, barely managing to contain your excitement as you try and fish out your phone from your purse. “Um, we can exchange numbers, and you can text me- oh shoot…my phone’s dead.”

You stare at the blank screen of your phone, and you look up to see Jake holding up his phone, which was also dead by the looks of it.

“It’s okay, I think I’ve got- ah, there we go,” you announce, as you pull out a tiny notebook and pen from your purse. You jot down your number really quick, making sure your handwriting is legible, before ripping the page off the book and handing it to Jake.

“Text me,” you whisper, smiling as your fingers brush against his as he grabs the paper. You don’t linger for too long after that, making your way into the building and up to your apartment, where you scramble to get to your window. You know it faces the street out front, and your surprised to see Jake still there, leaning against the hood of his limo, staring down at the paper you’d given to him.

You watch as he brings it up to his face, closing his eyes as he brushes his lips against the slip of paper before tucking it into his pocket. Your heart flutters in your chest and you turn away form the window, biting the nail of your thumb with a huge smile.

You go about the rest of the day feeling like you’re floating on a cloud, and when your phone charges and comes back on, you’re hit with a million notifications from your friends, all asking how the night went. You shoot a quick text to reassure them that you made your way back home, and just when you’re about to drop your phone back onto your bedside table, another message pops up.

Hey [Y/N], this is Jake Lockley.

This might just be the beginning of something really, really fun.

_______

i am horny <3 i hope y'all liked this one, it was a mess to write and took way longer than i liked. might turn this into a series

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?" 

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?" 

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hii, I love your fics, especially the Moon Knight ones, sometimes I'm so giddy that I need to take a step back and remember myself that they aren't real.

May I request headcanons about the Moon Boys overhearing reader talking to their pet (probably a kitten) about how much they love the boys, and their quirks and their little differences and just going on and on about how perfect they are?

I understand if not, I will love whatever you post regardless!

Oh my gosh, this is so adorable! I hope I did it justice!

Just Happy

Jake Lockley x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Jake eavesdrops.

Warnings: Fluff, Jake being emotional, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 482

You stroke behind Salem’s ears, the small kitten’s eyes are closed, his head pressed as close as he can to your hand. 

“You like that, hmm?” You smile, “Who’s my favourite little guy?” 

Salem purrs loudly. 

Jake smiles from his position in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower. Both Marc and Steven were still asleep, Steven hadn’t come to bed until well into the early morning and now that things in their life were calmer Marc was using the opportunity to catch up on fifteen years of rushed power naps. 

“Who is it, hmm?” You lean down and kiss the top of Salem’s head three times. 

Jake can’t help himself, he slowly takes out his phone from his pocket, not wanting to alert you to his presence. He finds the perfect angle and then starts filming, he’d have to send this to the group chat Steven had created. Affectionately called ‘The Body 💪📖🚗⚾’

“It’s yoooooooou!” You say sing-song to Salem and grin, “Well you’re my favourite little cat guy. I think Steven, Marc, and Jake might complain if they’re not my favourites too. Though I don’t think they’d mind being second best to you.” 

At the sound of Steven, Marc, and Jake’s names Salem perks up his ears and meows softly. 

“Yeah! You love them too, don’t you? They are the best, we love them so much. Because they’re so kind and great. And they give you the best pets, don’t they? Well, second best, I’m best obviously.” 

Jake covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. He’s smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks, his chest so light it’s almost painful. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his throat thick. He tries to force the emotion down, but it just builds and builds. 

“I know part of the reason you’re so excited when you hear their names is you think you’re gonna get extra treats, I know they give you more than they should.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean a little closer and Salem looks up at you with large eyes. “I love them so much, literally so much. Every day my heart gets a little bigger with how much I love them. Opposite Grinch situation going on in here.” You tap your chest. 

“Amor,” Jake’s voice makes you jump, and you turn from your position on the floor just in time for him to wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. 

You let out a little oof of air and then giggle, “Were you spying on me?” 

“Yes.” He mutters into your neck, his voice is thick and wavering. 

“Hey, you okay?” You stroke his back and try to move to see his face. But he just snuggles deeper into your chest and squeezes you tighter.

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

“Just happy, my love. Just happy.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[angel-of-the-moons]

Marc x reader smut where reader is down in the dumps and is getting insecure of not being good enough (compared to Layla) and hates that but can’t help it so Marc figures this out and fucks the insecurity outta reader?

More Than Enough

Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (Implied Steven/Jake x Reader)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Feelings of inadequacy, unprotected PiV, Mirror Sex, Praise, Mostly-clothed sex, Marc has a few of his own issues and is not a licensed psychologist

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am so sorry this has been sitting in my ask box for so goddamn long, enjoy the word vomit aksbldbldbld

You knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, your insecurity. You felt... sub-par.

Compared to other people, compared to other women, compared to... her.

You could tell they had something special at one point, something almost-unbreakable. But then the issue with Steven realizing who he was, hunting Harrow, fighting Ammit, finding out Marc was there when her father was murdered... Jake goddamn Lockley...

Layla el Faouly was, honestly, a head-turner. She was funny, smart, beautiful and had a way of getting people to open up to her.

Even you, to a point. But you still felt inadequacy, even a bit of envy when it came to Layla. She was with Marc for so long--hell they had been married!

You couldn't keep lying to yourself, and you couldn't keep lying to them. So... You came clean. And the look Marc gave you made you wilt.

It was even worse because he was silent. You couldn't bear to be under his scrutiny so you turned around and wrapped your arms around yourself, staring into the floor-length mirror with a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

Your eyes darted towards Marc's reflection. At first, you thought he was looking at you; but then you realized he was having a mental conversation with Steven and Jake about the situation. You wished you could be privy to those conversations, worrying about any possible arguments that may be waging behind his eyes.

Your shoulders drop and you sigh, eyes closing. "Just--forget I said anything? Please, I'm sorry that I..."

Your eyes open and you instinctively gasp--Marc was standing right behind you, his dark and stormy eyes locking with that of your reflection's. "M-Marc--"

"You fuckin' kidding me, doll?" Marc asked you, frowning. The tone of his voice alone made you wince.

"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." You try.

"Damn right you shouldn't have."

You squeeze your eyes shut once more, hating yourself as that stone of regret pings around in your belly.

That is, until he growled, hands bunching your shirt at your waist, yanking you against him, his lips barely curling into a snarl at your ear, "Cause that's my girlfriend you're fucking talking about."

You shiver, a small gasp coming from you as Marc's mouth was on your throat; licking, kissing, mouthing away at your skin, making goosebumps prickle across your body.

His mouth comes to a halt for a split second, his eyes focusing on his reflection once more; "...Right. Our girlfriend."

He takes a small bit of your skin between his teeth and nips; "And we know for a fact that our girlfriend isn't doubting for a single fucking second if she's "good enough" for us."

"I... I just..." You babble as his grip goes white-knuckled in your shirt.

You gasp loudly when he grips just a fraction tighter and rips your shirt open, the buttons flying in different directions in the room, skittering across the floor to be hidden until Steven's next "cleaning day" spree.

"M-Marc! My shirt--"

"Is hidin' you. Gotta show you what you're blind to, baby." He muttered against your skin, his hands spreading over your belly, one going up to pluck at the bra you wore. It wasn't fancy or sexy by any means. Just one of those stretchy, mesh, wire-free ones you opted to wear when you didn't want your skin irritated by the wires and elastics fo your typical ones.

"Wearing Steven's favorite one, today." Marc hisses in your ear, groping at one of your breasts through the fabric, running his thumb over the bump of your nipple as your heart begins to pound.

"I... I didn't--"

"Wanna know why he likes it?" Marc asked, biting onto your earlobe, grabbing the loops of your jeans to tug you against him; allowing him to grind the growing bulge of his cock against the curve of your ass.

One of his fingers pluck the stretchy fabric, letting it go to ever so slightly smack against your skin; "Because it don't fucking hurt you. Because, it looks way more natural--way more comfortable."

He chuckles warmly, a soft smile playing on his lips, "That, and the way that they bounce more in this bra than the others tends to distract him, too. Makes these," His index finger swirles over the bump of your nipple once more. "way more visible."

Shame and the heat of your self-esteem make your cheeks flush, and you look away. Marc frowned stubbornly, "Baby..."

"Marc, I don't think that I'm..."

He growled again, the typical sound that came from him when he was frustrated. He'd never used it on you, before; so the sound made a thrill run down your spine.

He shoves his hand from your bra to the front of your pants, yanking the button open and pulling your fly down. He hastily shoved the denim down your thighs, revealing your soft, lacy panties.

They were a dark gray color, with bits of green and red--vines and roses across the lace. They left very little to the imagination, but they were so soft sometimes you'd forget you were wearing any at all.

"Damn, baby... wearin' Jake's favorite, too?" He grinned against the skin of your shoulder, staring down your reflection with the hardened gaze of a soldier sighting down his target.

His rough and calloused hand stroked over the fabric, his fingers dipping low to tease the seam of your panties, feeling a damp spot that was slowly spreading. It never failed; you were light a string in a guitar, waiting to be plucked so the most melodious of tunes would come from your weet lips.

Marc continued to stroke your damp panties for a moment, humming against your soft skin. "Wanna know what the favorite thing that you're wearin'?"

"Wh-what?" You breathe.

Marc withdrew his hand and gently encapsulated your fragile wrist in his fingers, holding your left hand up, where a gold ring was snugly fit around your ring finger; "This. This here means that you're mine. That you're ours. So don't you think for a minute that you're second-best, that you're not good enough for us."

In that moment, you felt stupid all over again. How could you forget? The weight of the ring felt so obvious to you, now. Marc's fingers caress the cool metal, smiling in a gentle way at your hand.

"Baby, you gotta understand... You're right."

Your heart thudded against the delicate cage of your ribs as he let that sentence hang in the air, keeping you in suspense.

"You're not Layla. You're nothin' like her." He continued, "You're you. You're funny, you're soft-spoken, you have a habit of always finding animals to play with and pet when we go out... And that little giggle-snort you do when you laugh so hard you're outta breath? All. You. We fucking love every single goddamn piece of you, baby. So... Please stop comparing yourself to Layla... If you keep doing that, you'll just tear yourself up inside until you're all hollow. Believe me, I did it so much that... well, you know what happened."

He brings your hand up and kisses your knuckles, "And we can't have you falling apart on us... you're the closest thing we have to normal... we need you."

Your heart squeezed in your chest and you sniffled, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your lip wobbled. Lingering feelings of doubt still clung to your subconscious, even in the face of all of Marc's affirmations, "But... but I don't feel like I'm good enough, Marc... Sometimes... sometimes I just feel so useless, and..."

Marc grunts, the sound coming from his nose in a hefty exhale as he drops your hand. "Alright... Maybe you need a little extra convincing."

You almost turn, confused by what he meant, when his hand flattened between your shoulders, shoving you against the mirror so your hands were spread across the reflective glass.

"M-Marc--!"

"Shush, and don't you stop looking at that mirror. Want you to see how fuckin' pretty you are while I fuck you." He murmurs, leaning back to undo his own jeans, hastily shoving the and his boxers down to free his cock, red and throbbing.

His rolled his hips against you, his cock grinding against the soft lace of your panties, smearing a small droplet of precum onto the fabric. Marc lifted his eyes to lock with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, baby. Already told you."

Your breath leaves you in a stutter, your eyes dragging down to look at your own flushed face; your parted lips and torn shirt, your breasts heaving, the soft fabric stretched across them as their soft weight swayed and bounced as Marc maneuvered your body.

He slides your underwear off to the side, gripping the base of his shaft as he slides the tip of his cock through your budding wetness. Your eyes go wide when you feel his tip catch at your entrance, and you barely have a moment to breathe as he slams his hips against you, sinking inside of your body in one fluid thrust.

The stretchy was sudden; the lack of proper preparation left you with a stinging sensation that battled evenly with the pleasure of having his thick cock settle deep inside of you as he pressed against you; the dark hairs at the base of his cock tickled the skin of your ass.

"Baby, you're--fuck." He whined, his brows creasing as a stray curl falls over his forehead as he bows forward, relishing in the moment how good it felt to have your soft, velvety heat wrap and cling around him.

"Shit, honey." Marc sighed after what felt like eons; his hands stroking and gripping the flesh of your ass in his meaty palms. "You're like fuckin' heaven..."

He pulled back once, and slammed back in, making you cry out as the burn and ecstasy once more fight each-other in a bare-handed brawl; making your eyes roll back and flutter closed. God, why did it feel so good?

His mouth was at your ear, his voice tight and strained as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out of you easier and easier as the pleasure began to mount; tickling your spine. "...and I should know, angel..." Marc grunted. "I was in heaven for a little while..."

"Marc..." You whimpered, dropping your head as he began to pound into you, your chest burning with every heavy breath you took as Marc roughly crammed his cock inside of you, pressing hard on every single spot inside that had your head swimming with euphoria.

"Gh--fuck!" Marc barked, grabbing a fistful of your hair (carefully, ind you, he didn't want to hurt you at all) and pulled your head back so he could see your face, "I told you... watch yourself, baby. Don't look away."

You hiccup. Marc was fucking you so roughly from behind that you were almost concerned the pressure you were putting on the mirror would shatter it.

"That's it..." Marc groaned, his eyes rolling back with a blissful sigh as he tipped his head back.

You could see his Adam's apple bob, his jaw tighten as he fucked into you like a rutting dog. His hand lets your hair go and slides down your back, beneath the fabric of your torn shirt to caress the curve and contour of your spine.

Marc's eyes meet yours in the reflection, and his lips quirk up as he gives you another sharp thrust; your voice punching out of you in a breathless cry.

"Baby... do I gotta tell you again?" He sighed, gripping you by the back of your elbows and yanking you upright against him, so your back was pressed against his chest.

You groaned in bliss as you felt him shift inside of you. This position was new... and not unpleasant.

One of his hands curls around you, gripping your chin and jerking your head up, snarling in your ear; "Fuckin' watch, baby."

Your eyes slide down, and between your spread legs, your panties hastily shoved aside... You could see Marc's cock pull out almost to the tip before he slammed his hips up, rutting up into you in another frantic thrust.

"'m gonna show you how fuckin' good you are to us... Even if it means I gotta prove it to you all night long."

He slammed into you once more, his lips curling against your ear as he watches himself disappear inside of you.

"Even if Steven and Jake gotta take over after. I'm done with you."

[winniethewife]

I laugh like me again, she laughs like you (Moon Knight System x F!reader)

Warnings: Presumed!dead character, Reader romantically involved with Jake, Marc and Steven are featured, Mother!reader, Single mom, Angst,

Words: 634

She would never expected to have to do this alone. Just as she thought she wouldn’t do many other things alone. Witnessing her Daughters first steps, Her daughters first doctors appointment, the first time she got really sick, the first time she made a friend, her first move, all the way to London. She wasn’t expecting to be alone for her child’s first…everything. And now as she drives down the street she looks at the little girl with dark curls and brown eyes sitting in her booster seat as she looked out the window eagerly.

“Celesia?” She called her daughter’s name and the little girl looked over at her, the gaze in the rearview mirror reminded her so much of the girl’s father.

~

Jake Lockley was a rascal, but he loved her, and for some reason she loved him back. Despite the complications, Despite Marc living his life how he wished, taking her Jake wherever that was, with whoever that was. She had managed to form a friendship with Marc, which didn’t make it any easier, because she started to care a whole lot, a bad habit of hers. At some point they moved in together, a lovely thing to have with Jake, an interesting time with Marc. So when Marc teamed up with Bushman, she had advised against it. It seemed like a really bad idea, it wasn’t that she just wanted to keep Jake with her, it wasn’t the fact that she would have to find another roommate, she was genuinely worried about Marc. So of course when Marc had already been too stubborn and had shipped off, It was time to get a positive pregnancy test, because the universe finds that shit funny.

~

“Yes Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You ready for your first day at school?” She asked, trying to sound excited. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giving her mom two thumbs up. Which she glanced in the mirror. “Remember baby, I can’t look at you when I’m driving so I need you to use your words.” She reminded the eager five year old.

“Right, Sorry Mommy. I am really excited! I can’t wait to make friends and learn things and-” The young girl continued to ramble, causing her mother to smile warmly. So many things reminded her of Jake, and Marc.

~

She sat tears streaming down her face as she read over the letter, all that was found of Marc Spector was some of his belongings in a bloodied temple in egypt, presumed dead, and seeing as everyone else on the expedition was dead that was a good assumption. But she was three months pregnant and currently trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do without her best friend and the father of her baby who, unfortunately in this case, inhabit the same body. She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to do all this alone. Where to even start. But she didn’t have a choice now.

~

The whole day she kept checking her phone during work, just in case she missed a call from the school or a message from Celesia’s teacher, but there was nothing. At the end of the day she rushed to pick her up from school, and then they went to the store after. As the two of them puzzled over which kind of sweets to buy that week, she was surprised when a man ran into her.

“Oh, Sorry! That was entirely my fault there. So sorry.” The voice was too familiar, wrong accent, right voice.

“Jake?” She turned to look at the man, messy head of curls, Dark Brown eyes. The man looked confused. “Marc?’ She asked, maybe too hopeful.

“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

A/N: Middle of the night angst? Happens more often than you think.

[jayke0]

Bondage and BJs

Pairing: Jake Lockley x g/n reader

Summary: You grant Jake with a treat while he's tied to a chair.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Oral (m receiving), bondage/ropes, Dom!Reader, Sub!Jake, degrading, use of “whore”, edging, begging, orgasm denial, mention of Steven, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,410

A/n: This was inspired by this lovely art by @/halcyon1796 on X!

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading and editing ily.

………......................…………………………………….

“Colour?”

Jake blinks at you a few times, the words not registering for a few seconds.

“Green. Green, cariño…”

The poor man is practically bursting out of his jeans. Tight ropes bind him to the chair, his biceps bulging between the lines each time he clenches his fists. A light sheen covers his warm gold skin and runs the length of his chest all the way to his waistband, where his stomach is twitching with the lack of stimulation. Despite the compromising position, and the obligatory stain on his pants, a dark grin is stretched wide across his face, urging you to continue your game.

“Good,” you flash him a smile and pat his thigh as you shuffle closer to him on your knees. “Good boy.”

You're sure you see his ears prick up like a damn dog at the praise, the idea of it making you chuckle while you sit comfortably between his thighs and fiddle with his belt, looking up at him brazenly.

His smirk falters a little as you tease him, slowly unbuckling his belt and dragging the leather from the metal clasp with remarkable patience.

Jake wouldn't have it any other way. He loves it when you tease him, make him wait for you, it just makes him unbelievably harder. Sweat beads on his forehead and curls his hair, his thoughts completely enrapt with you.

Finally, you work open his pants, refraining from literally licking your lips as you gaze at his twitching length in the confines of his boxers. “Look at you, baby, twitching so much for me.” You tease with a smile as you run your finger along the length of his cock, getting a groan and a jump in response. “Lemme help you out a little.”

The adam's apple in his throat bobs as he swallows hard, eyes fixated on your hands and the way your thumbs hook under his boxer’s waistband to let his cock spring out. Cold air hits him and makes him gasp, biceps flexing again as he sucks his lip between his teeth to chew on.

“You're usually more talkative than this, Mr Jake Lockley; is someone lost for words?”

The man grumbles and looks at you with pleading eyes, ones that you're still yet to gain the strength to say no to, so you do as he silently pleads and wrap your fingers around his thick length.

The action makes an exasperated sigh escape from your boyfriend's lips, his nostrils flaring a little while your fingers squeeze him gently.

“Mi vida…” he mumbles softly, feeling each of your digits squeezing him. A bead of pre-cum spills from his tip in time for you to catch it on your tongue, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. The muscles in his stomach strain, making his length twitch as you tap it against your tongue and glare up at him through your lashes.

Pulling away, you let a string of saliva pour over his ruddy tip and stroke it over his length, relishing in the way he's already huffing and squirming under the bare minimum of your touch.

”Finally,” he breathes as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, enveloping the tip and appreciating the salty taste. You sit up, twisting your head slightly to the side before taking almost all of him in one go; needless to say, Jake's reaction is pure gold.

His head falls back with a loud wail, back arching off of the chair as his thighs try to squeeze together. To his displeasure, you're already one step ahead of him, hands placed firmly on his thick thighs to keep them parted as you pull off again.

“Jake, you're gonna be a good boy for me now, aren't you?”

He nods frantically, a whine rumbling in his throat.

“Promise?”

“Yes! Yes I promise. Please darlin’... I need ya, I need that mouth.”

The way he ruts his hips up should aggravate you, but it only makes you want him more.

Taking him about half way this time, you hum around his cock, feeling his thigh tense under your tight grasp while your other hand occupies itself with wrapping around the rest of his length; and he keeps his legs open, as per your command.

The twisting motion you start has proven to be greatly successful with your boyfriend in the past, and he never seems to get bored of it. You turn your head as you bob up and down on his length, your hand twisting in the opposite direction to create a delicious friction for the man. You're quick to stop his rutting with a glare through your eyelashes, not even having to pull off to make him whimper and stop his movements in his tracks.

He distracts himself by leaning his head back once more, and you watch all the muscles strain in his neck delightfully; it's such a wonderful sight seeing him like this.

“Damn cariño… shit. Love the way ya Suck my cock, ya always know what I like–.” He moans out, his hands now pawing at the ropes that are keeping him in place. “Wish I could just fuck that pretty mouth… make ya drool all over me...” His words are assertive, but his tone is far from it. You simply grin around him and start moving faster, taking him a little deeper each time.

His body is shaking at this point, already sensitive from the edging you'd put him through before even having taken his pants off. “Ah fuck!– Mi vida, I ain't gonna last– I gotta cum...”

You pull off. “What do you need to say?”

The man grumbles and thrusts his hips up.

“Watch it,” you dig your nails into his thigh, making him squirm and whimper quietly. “Want me to edge you again, baby? ‘Cause I will. I'll edge you for as long as it takes for you to stop being a desperate and disobedient whore.”

He buries his face in his shoulder for that one, looking away from you ashamed and flushed. Jake doesn't react the same to degrading as Steven does, his responses are usually more subtle, more embarrassed. Steven, on the other hand, will happily welcome degradation with a loud moan followed by a desperate whine; and Marc… well, you haven't gotten that far yet.

“I'm sorry, mi amor. Please let me cum, I've been so good for ya, waited so long.” Jake’s bottom lip sticks out just a little, something he'd picked up from Steven. “Please, cariño. I need ya…”

Once you're satisfied with his apology, you wrap your lips around him again as before and sink all the way down, enveloping him fully. You pull off just enough before starting a fast pace, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth and hearing his beautiful moans.

You're able to look up at him just enough to see him watching you, focusing on how your lips stretch and drool all over his cock. his eyes meet yours, and suddenly he's arching his back and twitching fiercely, warmth filling your mouth while his orgasm runs through his body like hot lava.

You feel his muscles almost instantly relax and his breathing slow, his cock already going soft in your mouth as you swallow what he'd spilled. “Good boy,” you smile up at him widely, “my handsome boyfriend.” Your words are genuine as you rest your head on his thigh, pressing soft kisses.

“Mhm… mi vida..” Jake is sleepy, and you can easily tell that by the big dopey grin on his face, the one he usually has when he's had a long day or you've pleased him.

Standing up, you place a kiss on his lips and forehead before moving behind him to untie his sore wrists, a soft inhale coming from him as he rubs his biceps.

“Sorry baby, but I had to really tie you down. You're like a fucking rhino sometimes,” you both chuckle softly at your observation before you lean over him to look at him. “You wanna go to sleep, huh?”

A simple nod from him tells you all you need to know.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @red-hydra @summonthesoups @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @midgardian-witch @minigirl87 @mooksmouse @justafandomgvrl @boredzillenial @eyelessfaces @silvernight-m @winniethewife @reallyrallyauthor @femmeanonymelives

[campingwiththecharmings]

Never Let Me Go

AN: Fourth fic for @moonknight-events MK Bingo! So….this isn’t exactly what I’d intended it to be lol (no dialogue? No full on smut?? What’s wrong with me???) but I also kind of like how it turned out? Idk. Hopefully someone other than me enjoys this lol

Jake is feeling lonely and disconnected and you help make him feel better.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (labeling this as M since it has cockwarming. not very smutty tho) Prompt: Cockwarming Words: 560 Pairing: Jake Lockley x GN!Reader (pretty sure this could be read as GN, please let me know if that's incorrect) Warnings: cockwarming, angst, feelings of loneliness (please let me know if i missed anything) AO3

——————

You’re in Jake’s lap, knees bracketing his hips, his cock buried inside you. You’re both still, his strong arms wrapped around your middle, fingers loosely fisted in the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, eyelids fluttering slightly as you comb your fingers gently through his curls. He inhales slowly, deeply, nuzzling your collarbone with his nose, his mustache tickling your skin. 

He’s been feeling disconnected, your Jake, lonely even. Tonight is the first night you’ve had with him in weeks. He’d let himself in about an hour ago looking tired, his movements sluggish as he’d toed off his shoes, shucked his jacket, and loosened his tie. You’d gone to him immediately, anxious to see him after such an extended absence. It’s not that he hadn’t looked happy to see you, he had—he was—he’d just looked so down, almost defeated. 

He hadn’t wanted to talk about it, whatever it was that was bothering him, and you didn’t push, knowing he’d open up when he was ready. For now, he just needed you, to be with you. He’d never ask for this though, for comfort, even though he needs it and knows you’d happily give it. He forgets, you see, forgets that he doesn’t have to handle everything on his own, forgets that his troubles are also your troubles…forgets that you chose this, chose him.

So, you remind him. Remind him that you love him (and that he is worthy of that love), that you care for him, that you are a team, that it’s okay to need people, to be vulnerable. When he finally gives into you (and he always does), you lead him to the bed and just hold him for a while, your body draped over him like a blanket. You can tell when he starts to get antsy, when his mind is racing at top speed, when he’s no longer present. You know what he needs, how to calm his mind, to bring him back to you. 

You raise yourself up on all fours, motioning for him to sit up as you slowly crawl up his body. He does what you want without argument, his eyes focused on you, intently following your every movement. When you kiss him, he sags against the headboard, keeping his arms limp at his sides as you straddle his hips. His lips are soft against yours, his tongue warm and wet as it slides against yours languidly. When you sink onto him, he breaks the kiss, his head thudding back against the wall as he sucks in a breath. You watch him for a moment, taking in the state of him—the tinge of pink on his skin, the way his dark lashes fan across his cheek as he closes his eyes, the kiss-bitten look of his mouth.

He opens his eyes after a moment, smiling softly at your attention. You smile back, the tightness you hadn’t realized was in your chest easing slightly. You shift forward, wrapping yourself around him and pulling him close. He sighs, pushing his face against your neck as he winds his arms around your torso. 

Jake forgets sometimes, what it’s like to be this close to someone, to be loved, to be cared for. He’s grateful that he has you here to remind him.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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[foreverinadais]

One Call: m.s , j.l , s.g

Summary:  Marc, Jake and Steven, your ex’s, ran into trouble and, as a result, are thrown into jail. At a loss, they ( begrudgingly ) use their only call on you in hopes you will bail them out. 

Pairings: ex!marc spector x reader , ex!jake lockley x reader , ex!steven grant x reader

Warnings: angst (!!!), they’re all readers ex’s, cussing, fluff, forced proximity, tension, jake being a bit of an asshole, *steven being sad* , kinda unhappy ending but there will be another part, this is part of the ex! moon boys x reader series but can be read stand alone, unrequited requited feelings, not being over your ex and vice versa. 

Word Count: 5.8 k

the ex! series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

You should’ve known it was them the moment your phone started ringing. You had awoken with a start, heart pounding out of your chest at the loud intrusion to your sleep. It took you a brief moment to register what the sound was, the thick layer of sleep still hovering in your mind. But then, the familiarity of the ringtone settled into your brain.

You hardly registered the time- 03:27am- before picking up your phone.

Unknown Number.

The words made you hesitate. But only briefly, for then you were answering. “Hello?” Your voice was croaky from just waking up, and you coughed slightly. There was a small silence. You tried again.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat before dropping through your stomach completely. You recognised the voice immediately.

“M-Marc? Why…” You tried to find the right words to describe this moment; why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is? What the fuck is wrong with you? Instead, you settled with, “Are you okay?” A sigh followed from the other end of the call, and you could just imagine him, eyebrows creased, eyes shut in whatever it was that was silently bothering him.

“Look, ‘m fine, just- need’ya to do something for me.” A favour? You hadn’t seen him in at least two months, the last time being in a grocery store. It had taken you weeks to get the interaction out of your head. Annoyance entered your mind, but you quickly pushed it away.

“What is it?” There was another silence, prompting you to now sigh.

“We’re in trouble.” You flinched, swinging your legs out of bed, heart accelerating.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble? Have you-”

“We aren’t in danger, it’s fine, just…” He seemed to hesitate on his next words, and you were tempted to push him, to make him spit it out so you could settle the thoughts racing through your mind. “We’re in jail.” He grumbled, and you realised the hesitancy was embarrassment.

“Jail?! Why? I mean, how?”

“Don’t have time for questions, okay? Can you just come get us?” It seemed as though he had to be prompted before he added a quiet, “Please?”

You huffed, getting out of bed and slipping off your pyjama shorts. “Fine. Where are you?” He began listing all the information you needed, and you quickly scribbled it down on the back of one of your friend’s wedding invitations. “Okay,” you muttered, finishing putting on your clothes and slipping on some shoes, “ ‘m on my way.”

“Right.” He finished hastily, hanging up. You scoffed, almost expecting something else, at least a ‘thank you’. But you reminded yourself that this was just a favour. That you were the last and only option he had to call. You pushed away the feelings that he was using you. You cant be used if you aren’t wanted in the first place.

You hurried out to your car, ensuring you had all you needed before you began the drive to you ex’s.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Marc Spector? He got here tonight.”

“And what is your relation to Mr Spector?” You hesitated, spluttering on your words slightly before settling on,

“A friend.” The woman at the desk raised an eyebrow, taking you in before sighing.

“Sign these forms and then take a seat. Your friend will be out shortly.” You smiled awkwardly, picking up the papers and muttering your thanks.

In the rush and the confusion, you had forgotten what picking up Marc entailed. You would be seeing him again. His hair, his face, his eyes. You would be reminded of his smell and his voice and his lips. It had been too long, too hard getting over them. It was your own personal purgatory.

You could hardly remember the lilt in Steven’s voice when he was excitedly telling you about the book he was reading. Or Jake’s stupid jokes, sat in the back of his cab in the early hours of the morning. Or Marc-

You jumped when you heard a small cough in an attempt to pull your attention. You noticed the boots first, and it only took you a moment to avert your gaze upwards. His eyes were so familiar yet so cold. You felt as though you had been pulled under water, had lost your breath for a moment and were fighting to surface.

You took in every detail of his face. Some were familiar; the crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his lips, the small scar on the side of his face. Yet, some things were new. Particularly, the bruise covering his left eye, purpling angrily, and the freshly busted lip. You winced, resisting the urge to reach over and smooth your fingers over his injuries until they hurt less.

“You are free to go. You’re lucky your ‘friend’ bailed you out. Could’ve been a lot worse for you tonight, Mr Spector.” You noticed Marc grit his teeth, biting back the words he truly wanted to say. You were relived when he just nodded. He was out of the door before you could talk. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ to the receptionist before hastily following after him.

“Hey, Marc!” You called, and you couldn’t ignore how unfamiliar his name felt on your tongue. You pushed down the sourness rising in your throat as you could his name again. Marc stopped abruptly, and you noticed his body moving in a sigh. His head cocked to the side slightly as if he were hiding from you.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want a ride home?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll drop you off, I know the way.” The reminder of that fact pained you both, but neither of you showed it. Marc cleared his throat, turning to face you now, but he still averted his gaze.

“Don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have.”

“We’re past the point of that. Look, it’s fine, I insist.” You could see the dialogue behind Marc’s eyes, the debating and reasoning, before he settled with a small nod and an, ‘Okay.’

The small space of your car left little space between the two of you. You tried to ignore how good he smelt, how nice he looked, even after whatever he had been through tonight. You subtly cracked the window down, just to feel as though you weren’t drowning in him.

Silence settled as you began to drive. It wasn’t exactly awkward, more… uncomfortable. As if you were both about to talk, or scream, or cry at the exact same moment. Marc was set on staring out the window, every now and then his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror, and you could just imagine Steven or Jake’s expression looking back.

You wanted to ask about them. Despite it being a long time since seeing Marc, it had been even longer since seeing the other two. Fuck, your heart ached thinking how close they were to you, yet so far. Marc, too. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to release everything in your mind overcame you. You couldn’t stay silent, but you didn’t quite know what you wanted to say.

“So…” you started, slowing down as you approached a red light, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Good start. You peeked over at him, but all you saw was his reflection in the window, blurred by the street lights and stars.

“Your face looks pretty bad. I mean, shit, not your whole face, just the bruise.” You didn’t miss the way his lip twitched up as if edging into his signature smirk, but quickly fell again, as if he was reminding himself of the situation.

“ ‘s fine.”

“That’s it?” You wondered aloud, moving as the light changed to green. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, I just, prison is a big deal, Marc. I’m…” You hesitated, hearing the implications of your next words, “worried about you.”

Marc tutted, and you worried you pushed him too far. He was stubborn, after all. “Don’t gotta worry about me anymore, okay? It’s fine, just ran into some trouble after a mission.”

You ignored the way your heart wept at his beginning statement, deciding to see how much you could find out. “After? What, someone sent some bodyguards on you or something?” You noticed his silence, the way his eyes averted down to his lap, and worry filled you once more. “Were you Moon Knight? Or was it you?” The thought of him fighting without his superhero alias inserted a sense of fear into you.

Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you noticed how pained he looked. “It was Steven.” Oh. Steven? Sweet Steven? You knew he could fight; you’d heard his stories of fighting Harrow and various other things. He was perfectly able. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t picture him fighting. Without the suit, without his alters.

You realised why Marc had been so closed off.

“What happened?” Your voice was quiet, strained.

“Just got back from a mission. It was…” He trailed off, and the sigh told you everything you needed to know. “Steven was fronting, and he was so frustrated. Neither of us could calm him down. We were nearly home but we heard shouting. Screaming. This woman was inside her house as her asshole of a husband was banging on the door. We told Steven not too do anything stupid, to just summon the suit or call the cops, cause he was in such a bad place, y’know?”

You did know, nodding, trying to focus on the empty roads and the story.

“But Steven wanted to help, like he always does. Couldn’t get control of the body as he stormed over. The guy hit him,” He motioned to the bruise, and you winced, “Twice. And then Steven was just… fuck, he was goin’ crazy. Probably would’ve killed the bastard if some drunk guy on the street didn’t pull him off.” Marc’s voice had gotten slightly strained, and you could only imagine the turmoil he would’ve been through, how helpless he would’ve felt. How helpless they all would’ve been.

“B-But… why did you get put in jail?” You hardly had to ask. You knew Marc would do anything, anything, to protect him. But you didn’t know what to else to say.

“Steven snapped out of it. Let me front. I couldn’t let it be under his name, ya know? He has his job; he has a life outside of this shit… It doesn’t matter for me.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him he was a good person. You wanted to say he did have a life. You wanted to ask to talk to Steven. But then Marc was speaking again.

“The woman, she was grateful, you know, turns out her husband is an abusive piece of shit. But when we were put into the car, I caught sight of the window. There was a kid. Crying. Didn’t know if his dad was dead or what. Steven probably saved the kid’s life, but he doesn’t know that. Steven went after that, can’t feel him or speak to him up there, just… nothing.”

You were at a loss for words. You could feel the pain radiating off of Marc and it made you ache to hold him in your arms and whisper terms of endearments. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what you were apologising for, or who you were apologising too. There was so much you wanted to say, but so little ways you could say it.

“Don’t be. He’ll be back. Probably when this bruise is healed, bastard’ll probably avoid havin’ to feel it.” You forced a smile at Marc’s attempt at a joke. But it was all fake. You could read him like a book, even if you had finished the last chapter a while ago. But it didn’t take a genius to see how much he was harbouring.

“Marc… why did you call me?” You didn’t want him to think you were angry; you weren’t. In fact, you were relieved it was you and not anyone else. But you were curious. Out of everyone, why you?

“Your numbers the only one I- we know.” He muttered, and whilst it made sense, you felt a pang of sadness. There was nothing attached to their choice. Nothing present, anyway. It was a convenience.

“I see.”

“Look, I’m sorry I was such a prick earlier. I just didn’t wanna bother you like this, y’know? You don’t need this shit anymore.”

“I don’t mind, Marc. Honestly.”

“But I do. This shouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re too good for this.” He trailed off and your pulse rate quickened. You didn’t know what to say, so you decided silence was acceptable. This time, the silence felt more comfortable. As if you were now used to each other again. You mentally kicked yourself; you couldn’t allow yourself to get used to his presence.

You were driving down a particularly empty street, the prison taking you on the outskirts of the usual busy city life. That, and the fact it was incredibly early in the morning, so early, the sun was still hidden beneath the stars.

You had turned on the radio a while back, letting the music fill the car to disperse some of the tension. You hardly noticed, however, when it started crackling. It was only when the car started slowing down that you took notice of the dashboard. The flashing red light made you curse.

“What?” Marc said, but instantly realised why when the car spluttered to a stop, the radio dying with a whirl. You couldn’t resist the urge to flop onto the steering wheel, letting out a prolonged groan as you realised the situation- you had broken down on an empty road with your ex.

It truly couldn’t be worse.

“Shit.” He muttered, and you agreed, head still on the steering wheel. However, you looked up at the click on the passenger door.

“Where are you going?! Don’t leave me here!” You whined, and Marc rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Not leaving you, just gonna check the car. Just try ‘n call road services or somethin’, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, reaching for your phone, nearly crying as you saw the ‘No Signal’.

“Fuck, Marc, I don’t have a signal!” You called out, holding it into the air to no avail. “Marc? I’m coming out.” You opened the door, eyes trained to the phone as you waved it into the air again, a string of curses leaving your lips as the same signal portrayed itself on the screen.

You could see the silhouette of him at the front of the car, figure hidden behind the bonnet. You were shocked he knew even remotely what he was doing. Car’s weren’t his thing.

Oh no.

It finally hit you as he fully came into view. His face was harder, eyebrows drawn together, lips in a tight scowl. You hadn’t seen Jake Lockley in a while. In fact, you hadn’t heard a thing from him. No accidental calls, no awkward run ins. The last time you had seen him, well, you’d been under him.

“Hi.” You started, instantly feeling awkward at your tone. There was no answer. You wondered if maybe, he hadn’t heard you, that maybe he was so wrapped up in the car that he was oblivious to anything else. So, you tried again, this time adding a small, “Jake?”

You heard him sigh, followed by a frustrated, “hm?”

Oh.

“How’s it looking?”

“Fine.” Confusion filled you at his tone. He was being short. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to you, and you couldn’t ignore the hurt it made you feel.

“Well, it clearly isn’t fine if it broke down.” You snapped; you couldn’t help it.

“ ‘k, then it isn’t fine. Lemme concentrate, bueno?” Okay. You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Is there anything I can do-”

“No.” Anger flared in your blood. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so nonchalant, so infuriating.  

You suddenly missed Marc.

Without another word, you stormed back to the car, making a point of shutting the door so the bonnet rattled. You could practically hear the roll of his eyes, and it provided you with some solace.

He was out there for another 15 minutes. You wondered if it would even be him to front back at the car, and a big part of you hoped it wasn’t. You knew by the sharp tap on your window that it was, indeed, Jake.

You opened the door, trying to appear calm. “C’mere, have to test the engine.”

“I could do that.”

“I will, I know what ‘m doing.”

“And I don’t?”

“C’mon, relajarse. Relax. Let me.” Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the way his eyes were suddenly looking into yours from above, but you complied, rolling your eyes as you did so. Jake muttered something in Spanish that you didn’t catch, but you thought that was probably for the best.

You watched begrudgingly as he tried the engine once, twice, before the familiar roar of your car rumbled through the night. You expected him to get out, let you back in the drivers side, but much to your annoyance, he didn’t.

Instead, he motioned for you to get in. You wanted to complain but decided if he wanted to put in the effort of driving, whatever. You were tired anyway.

There was a different atmosphere than when Marc was fronting, and it was evident from the second you sat down. The atmosphere was tense, and the small space of the car felt suffocating, even with the window cracked down.

There was something about Jake, something utterly intoxicating, that pulled you under every time you even thought about him, let alone being in his presence. The implications that came with merely seeing his face made your brain cloudy and heart jittery.

How could you ever truly move on?

You tried not to let the thought in as you trained your eyes out the window, watching the trees and bushes blur into one green smudge. But it was corrupting your thoughts, infiltrating your defence systems.

You snuck a peek over at Jake. You were surprised he had even stuck around this long. A part of you expected him to stop fronting, render control to Marc as soon as he had fixed the car. The question was leaving your lips before you could even process you were speaking’ “Why are you still here, Jake?”

His jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “He wants me to stay.”

“Marc?” And he nodded. “You don’t…” You began but cut yourself off with a sad sigh. Jake didn’t want to be fronting with you and Marc didn’t want to swap back.

“I don’t…?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jake wanted to push but receded back into his silence. You didn’t miss the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel. You imagined Marc was pushing him to say something, but he didn’t.

He didn’t for a while.

You had adjusted to the silence, accepted that this would be how this night would end. The night sky had become lighter, the sun just beginning to peek out from beneath the horizon. You couldn’t quite believe it was nearly morning. You resisted the urge to yawn, covering your mouth slightly.

“Tired?” His voice shocked you slightly, but you hid it, raising an eyebrow in answer. “That was- of course, you’re tired, Soy un idiota. I’m an idiot.” You smiled slightly, shaking your head.

“You must be tired, too.” He shrugged.

“Who’s wedding?”

“Hm?” He took his eyes off his road for a split second to nod toward the crumpled invitation you had hastily scribbled the address down. “Oh, ‘s a friend’s. Next month.”

“Yeah? Do I know ‘em?” You shook your head.

“It’s a new friend.” He didn’t know everyone in your life anymore.

“I see.” You could tell he was pondering something by the way he was nodding slightly, tapping the steering wheel in succession to invisible music. “You got a plus one?” You couldn’t hide the shock on your face.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he replied too fast, “Just wonderin’.” You kept your eyes on him for a moment, gaze hard, but you felt a playfulness fill you.

“I was thinking of inviting this guy from work,” His jaw clenched, “But I want to keep my options open, you know?” He hummed, lips twisting up in a smirk.

“That’s what I do.” You had started it, the playful toying, the ploy to make him jealous, but the insulation they had options made your stomach turn. You reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to be jealous about.

“It’s fun having options. It’s freeing.” It wasn’t. Since them, you had gone on a handful of dates and all of them ended with awkward conversation and blocked numbers. But it was worth saying to see his smirk falter.

“As long as you’re happy.” Happy was perhaps an overstatement. You shrugged. “You are happy, aren’t you?” You hesitated. It was easy to say yes. It was easy to end the conversation here, as the car was nearing their flat.

“I’m getting through.” That struck him. All he cared about, still, was your happiness…no, he couldn’t, not anymore. You recognised the road instantly, knew the flat was close. God, even the street felt like home. Like you were travelling back through the trails in your memory. If you shut your eyes, you could imagine you were back in their bed. You can feel the sun on your skin through the cracks in their curtains. You can hear the car horns from a traffic altercation. You can feel their heart beating underneath your head. Nothing bad has happened.

“Hogar dulce hogar; home sweet home.” But not for you.

He parked and turned the engine off. You listened as it died down to silence. This was it.

“So this was…” You tried to find a word to quite describe the night, but settled on, “strange.”

He chuckled and it was addictive. “You could say that.” He unclicked his seatbelt and settled back in the seat for a moment. Like he belonged in your car with you. “Listen, thank you for all this. Gracias.”

“Jake… why didn’t you want to front earlier?” He sighed deeply, and you were worried you had overstepped.

“ ‘s too much. Being around you again, fuck, just brings it all back, ‘s all, Carino.” The term of endearment slipped out, but it was too late, the damage was done. “I should go. Thank you again.” He muttered, wiping his hands on his trousers, making a move to leave.

“Brings what back?” He paused.

“Everything.” He felt it, too. You were surprised to see him already looking at you. Your eyes met but this time, you didn’t look away. It felt all too familiar to be looking into his eyes. And then, his eyes were rolling back. You didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening before he was there.

His eyes held a softness unlike any you had ever seen in your life. You could recognise it from anywhere, but only from him. His body instantly slouched, his eyes whipping away from yours.

Steven. Sweet, sweet Steven.

His hands began to tremble as he raised them in front of his face, looking at the swelling of his knuckles, at the bruises forming on his skin. “I-I-“ He began to stutter, turning to look at himself in the reflection of the glass before abruptly looking away. “I did something bad.”

“Steven-” He jumped as if he hadn’t quite comprehended it was you sat there. He hadn’t heard his name from your voice in too long and it made his heart quiver.

“I-It was like I just lost control, y’know? I don’t- I blacked out for a minute and then there was sirens and Marc-” He cut himself off with a gasp and you felt tears fill your eyes. “Oh goodness, what have I done? I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“No, Steven, you’re not-” you began but he was already talking again.

“And now you had to come clean up my mess. ‘S not fair, how could I do this to you? After everything, fuck, you don’t need this. You don’t need me anymore.” You were at a loss for words. You did need him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. You needed him like you needed books to read. You needed him in a way you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, especially since you had lost him. Had lost all of them.

“Listen-”

“There was a kid, y’know? I saw him, in the window. He must’ve thought that I… that I…” And then, he was crying, body shaking in sobs. You broke then, the need to hold him too much, too strong. He melted into your arms, clutching at the back of your shirt as you held him in your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder, and you could feel his tears soaking your skin, but you didn’t mind, not one bit.

You ran your hands over his back, whispering whatever comfort you could string together. Your hands trailed the hairs climbing the back of his neck like you had a million times before, hoping it would provide something that would help, some solace that words couldn’t give. “You did the right thing, Steven.” You whispered as you felt his breathing begin to slow down. His hands became limp on your shirt, instead opting to hold you as tightly as you were holding him. “You always do the right thing.”

“What if ‘m a bad person?” He quivered, voice barely above a croaky whisper. You swallowed harshly, feeling tears sting your eyes at one of the people you cared about most thinking so lowly of himself.

“No, Steven, of course not. You’re… you’re one of the best people I’ve ever know? The best of the best, okay?” He sniffled, and you gently eased his face up, so he was looking at you. “You are a good person, Steven Grant.” You looked into each-others eyes for a while. There was no ounce of awkwardness, no trace of tension. The comfort it brought to see those eyes again was more than any drug, any romcom could ever provide.  

You studied his features. Soft, teary eyes, bloodshot and scared, but swirling with adoration and care. The tension between his eyebrows was gone, replaced instead with a smooth, vulnerable expression. But most of all, you noticed the bruises. Unlike with Marc, you didn’t resist the urge to run featherlight touches around them, hoping it would help him heal faster. Somehow, even in this state, he looked angelic. In fact, you had never seen him look bad. Because Steven was good. “ ‘m sorry.” He suddenly broke the silence, instantly looking away from you as if talking to you was too much. 

You looked at him confused, running a hand through his hair in encouragement as you whispered a small, “For what?”

“My fault you’re here right now. ‘m sure you have a trillion other things you’d rather be doin’ than sitting here with a sorry sod like me.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“If you think lying in my flat whilst my upstairs neighbours shag is something I’d rather be doing, you’re greatly mistaken.” You felt him smile against your neck and you resisted the urge to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Still, must be better than seeing us.” You shook your head, though he couldn’t see you.

I’ve missed you like crazy. I would do anything to see you, anything. Come back to me. Please. 

You settled on, “I’ll always be here to help.” Neither of you said much after that. Not for a while. You were so comfortable, unnervingly so, with Steven holding you, your hands in his hair. It was so intimate, more intimate than anything you’ve had since the break-up. You quickly realised you craved it. That this was the missing piece in your life, that they were the missing pieces. 

The sun was breaking through the dark now, a light pink casting a warm glow onto the dull streets. That was what he felt like, you thought. He was the sunrise. You felt yourself drifting off and caught yourself, realising the time in the car had to come to an end. You didn’t want too, but you shifted, and Steven lifted his head, rubbing his eyes slightly. 

“Should probably get you to bed, you must be exhausted.” You muttered to him, forcing your hands to untangle from his curls. He nodded, sitting up and you instantly missed the weight and warmth of him on top of you.

“ ‘kay.” You stretched slightly, feeling tiredness settle in your bones but you pushed it away. Steven took in the beginning of the sunrise, and you noticed his lips twitch up in wonder. He was the type of person to get excited at every sunrise, every sunset, every odd-shaped cloud; no matter how many times he’d seen it. He found the beauty in everything. It was one of the things you loved about him. Loved.

“So, just lemme know if you need anything, you can message me. Do you still have my number? I can write it down, or not, whatever you want-”

“You aren’t coming in with me?”

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d want me too.” 

“Yes, please. If you want too.” You paused. Seeing their flat? Being in that space again? The thought made your heart flutter and stomach churn. But you nodded, deciding he needed your help more tha your heart needed peace. The steps up to their flat was so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew every bump, every turn, every creaky floorboard. You were at the door before you knew it, and Steven was jingling the keys in the lock. 

“Sorry about the mess.” He said, and you smiled.

It was messy, yes, but messy in the way that felt exactly like home. It smelled the same. It looked the same, apart from the new curtains you were sure Steven had picked out. You felt like you were unlocking a piece of your heart with every step you took. You spotted his desk, piled with all sorts of Ancient History books, papers of various missions they’d been on, and Steven’s new name badge with the words, ‘Tour Guide’ formally placed underneath. You let your fingers trace it, a grin breaking out onto your face. 

“Congratulations.” You said, holding it up so Steven could see what you were talking about. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s… wonderful. I love it. Donna quit, and the new manager, Kathy, she promoted me.” 

“That’s amazing, Steven, truly. ‘m so proud of you, you deserve it.” You couldn’t stop the praise, and you watched his cheeks tint in a blush. 

“You always said I could do it.” He said, and you nodded. “You always believed in me.” You always would.

“It’s cause I knew you could. It’s all down to you.” You stayed smiling at each other for a moment before Steven yawned. You shook your head, putting his name badge down and clasping your hands together. 

“Let’s get you to sleep.” He chuckled, nodding and rubbing his eyes. Steven went to the bathroom as you set up his bed, plumping his pillows and straightening his duvet. You ignored the ache in your heart at the sight of your side of the bed, lingering your hands on the pillow as you remembered all the times you had been in their bed. You broke from it at the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. 

He came out dressed in his pj bottoms and a jumper. He took note of his now tidy bed and smiled, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and hold you. He didn’t say much as he got into bed, tucking himself under the covers and sighing deeply. You didn’t know where to look, where to stand. You figured you could leave when he got into bed. You only shifted slightly when Steven grabbed your hand gently, tugging you toward him.

“Stay with me?” He whispered so quietly; you almost didn’t catch it. You felt a lump rise in your throat. You didn’t even have to ponder it as you nodded, slipping into the side of the bed, your side, next to him. He turned over, facing away from you as you swung an arm over waist. You felt his muscles untense as he grabbed your hands to the front of him, stroking the skin softly. You rested your cheek against his back, nuzzling the skin to provide as much comfort as you could.

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.” He whispered tiredly, on the cusp of sleep. You tried to stop your eyes watering, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away.

“Thank you for letting me.” His grip on your hands loosened and his breathing became heavy in a way you recognised instantly; he was asleep. You pulled your hands out from him, careful not to make too much movement. The bed creaked as you rolled out, but he didn’t even flinch. You straightened out the sheets, reshaped the pillow. You thought about him. And then about Marc, and Jake. What they meant to you, still, and what you feared they always would.

You couldn’t help but look at him one last time. He looked at peace, finally, like an angel. You couldn’t resist the urge anymore, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Steven.” You whispered, stroking his hair before making your way out of their flat.

The sun had risen completely now, gold cascading over the buildings. A new day. You turned one more time. You wished you could reverse time, go back to when you were happy and at peace with them. But, alas, that was impossible. So, with your heart yearning, and your stomach turning, you left.

You awoke in the late afternoon, thoughts plagued with the events from the night. As hard as it was, you hadn’t wanted it to end. You had never been happier than when you were with them. The thought haunted you. You turned, stretching deeply as your limbs refused to move too much. With a sigh, you reached over for your phone. You scrolled through your notifications, not paying too much mind, until you saw the familiar number beaming on the screen.

You sat up instantly, clicking on the message and reading it:

Thank you for everything. 

You didn’t know which of your boys had sent it, and you didn’t care. You held the phone to your heart, trying to absorb the remnants you had left of them. And whilst it was just a message, you couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of hope. Perhaps this wasn’t it. Perhaps they felt it too. 

You smiled, shutting your eyes, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Finally- a new day. 

tags: @daddyjackfrost @rmoonstoner @midgardian-witch @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476​ (please do let me know if you don’t want to be on this taglist, it is quite old now so feel free to message me and i’ll remove you!!!)​

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

[ivystoryweaver]

3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 4 of 5: Saved or Kidnapped?

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Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: He's bad for you. But you want him so bad.

Word Count: 8.2k

Content: nsfw, mdni, more below the cut, buckle up!

REALLY explicit ok, f. and m. masturbation, creampie, sexual fantasies, nipple play, major glove kink, sex toys, violence, gun, gun fire, threats, demeaning language in the not-sexy way, assault (there is no rape or sexual violence and it's not Jake perpetrating, but be aware that the threat could be triggering), blood/wounds in the regular/violent way, blood/wounds in the sexy way too (a little masochism), hurt/comfort, dry humping, fingering, choking, brief/mild impact play, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, murder, not beta'd

This was supposed to be 4 parts but I'm sick of fighting with this really long ending, so...it's not the ending, yet.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake. The name of the man driving you out of your mind.

He stabbed you (which fucking hurt), abducted you (conveniently, you wanted to see him again?) held you at gunpoint (scary but it made you wet), choked you (you loved it. Dammit.), groped you (honestly it was just dirty dancing) and��

left you abandoned.

Your bodies pressed and pulled, grinding together to the music’s thumping bass when you slotted your mouth against his and finally kissed him. 

Then instructed you to use your firearm and fucking left you there?

Anxious to see him again, you were left scrounging for clues as to whether he was even alive.

You used his glove, more than once. Slipped your hand inside it - ran it all over the shape of your body. Pushed gloved fingers into your wet heat, wishing it was him defiling you. The memory of his voice rumbling against your ear - his breath falling on your neck...the scent of his cologne took you right over the edge again, and again.

You sent the glove back to him, marked with your scent, just like you sent the knife, hoping it would lure him back to you.

But you heard nothing. One week passed, then two.

You supposed you should be thankful. He was, after all, hired to eliminate you. Why were you so obsessed with him? This was obsession, right? What else could it be?

And somehow, even though he stabbed you and threatened your life multiple times, something about him felt...safe.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*

Jake's shoulders sagged in relief when he opened the package with his ruined glove. So Marc hadn't hurt you after all, nor had his employer's long arm reached you.

The shape of your beautiful body pressed temptingly against his, the memory of the slide of your tongue over his - the wet, heated core of you soaking through the flimsy lace of your panties as you used his covered bulge to pleasure yourself...

He was a damn fool to stop you in the club before you came. What he wouldn't give to watch you fall apart for him - to hear your sweet moans and whimpers as you rubbed yourself over his cock or rode his thick thigh, chasing your release, panting his name...

Memories of you had him slipping his hand inside his soiled glove, undoing his pants with one hand, and spitting on the glove a few times to get it nice and wet.

The taste of your mouth, tinged with alcohol - the heat of your skin, barely covered by the delicious little dress wrapped around your curves...

The essence of you had him hard and leaking already.

Wrapping his gloved hand around his stiff cock, he murmured your name, stroking up and down, twisting the way he liked - the way he'd done a thousand times, only this time, as he sat in his car, in a darkened parking garage, he possessed this extra aphrodisiac.

This glove had been stuffed deep in your wet cunt. You thought of him and touched yourself, and came on it, just like you had with his knife.

God, he wondered what your pussy would feel like wrapped around his dick, squeezing him. 

He could imagine your sexy thighs spread across his lap right now, in his car - your dress yanked down so your nipples could spring free. He would take you in his mouth and suck until you moaned his name while he pushed his fat tip into your dripping hole.

Thrusting up into the grip of his gloved hand, he imagined your hips rocking into his - you riding him right here in the garage of your father's building, milking his cock - your desire dripping down around his balls, soaking his thighs and the seat below him.

He was sure you had the hottest little wet cunt, if the stains on his pants from your grinding at the club were any indication.

"Jake...Jake...right there, yes...oh fuck..." You would pant, asking him to come inside you, squeezing his dick with your slick heat until he did just that, groaning out your name as he spilled every last drop deep within your walls.

"...f-fuck," Jake ground out, working his length faster and faster, his hips stuttering as thick ropes of cum erupted, coating his glove.

His head dropped back against the headrest as he gasped for air, feeling a small measure of relief, but wishing you were really here, allowing his touch - needing him to suck marks into your neck as he fucked his cum back inside you, slowly, strumming on your clit until you fell apart for him again, tears stinging your eyes as your body liquified under his touch, over and over, until you slumped against him, overstimulated, spent and completely his.

There was only one thing to do.

He sent the ruined glove back to you. Then he watched, and waited.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･

Life wasn't getting any safer for you, no thanks to Jake. But, truthfully, you would already be dead if Jake's employer had hired anyone besides him to get the job done.

So now, not only were you in grave danger, but Jake was too. So he had to solve the problem before his employer did...or before Marc did.

Saving your life was Jake's new mission and despite the storm of conflict inside his head - this wasn't about getting his dick wet.

No, in the short amount of time Jake had become acquainted with you, he had come to realize - or, maybe he simply decided that you deserved to live more than your father deserved to suffer, and far more than his employer desired revenge for whatever slight he was seeking to rectify.

Okay and yes, he wanted to fuck you. Obviously. But it's not like he was expecting anything from you - not after stabbing you anyway. People like the two of you didn't get happy endings. Not that you'd want one with him.

But you deserved to live, so Jake made it his mission to somehow call off the hounds before disappearing from Chicago forever.

And besides, now that he'd shown you how to use your gun, he could teach you more: how to use a knife, how to really shoot, how to defend yourself. Your asshole father made it necessary.

He didn't allow that train of thought to venture too much further...but it wouldn't hurt if you learned the tools to overthrow your father someday.

So he watched and waited.

And fucked his fist every night while looking at your surveillance picture on his phone.

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Your sexual frustration soared to new heights. After Jake's glove found its way back to you, completely ruined, you waited, expecting to see him again.

And nothing seemed to grant you even an ounce of patience or relief in the meantime.

Not the memory of him - not even the thick dildo stuffed in your pussy every night. Not your vibrator, nothing. Oh you came, dozens of times, panting his name with every orgasm, but it wasn't him.

Perhaps you had an unhealthy taste in men? Who were you kidding, of course you did. Your father was a cold blooded murderer after all.

Fuck this. You decided to send him a message.

As if you hadn't made enough mistakes, this one might prove to be fatal.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Your newest bodyguard greeted you normally the next morning, as you busied yourself, finishing your morning tea, nearly ready to run some errands. You almost didn't notice your other two bodyguards missing. Almost.

It was tempting to ask, "Where are Dumb and Dumber?" since Jake had let you know he referred to your sometimes inept bodyguards this way. But you asked for them by name.

"Not here yet," the third (Dumbest) replied. His name, you could not remember. Because you didn't care, honestly.

If only you would've noticed sooner. If only you had a way to contact Jake, or time to scramble across the bed to your phone, so you could call your father.

"I've been dying for a moment alone with you," the third bodyguard voiced, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.

"That's nice," you deflected, with a fake smile, rushing toward the door. "Just gotta get going, you know?"

"Not so fast," he ordered, menacing eyes falling on your mouth, then your cleavage. He blocked the doorway with one arm, while reaching for your shoulder with his free hand.

"I need some information from you, sweetheart." He licked his lips as you shivered.

"Okay, first of all," you huffed, attempting to shrug him off, "I'm not your sweetheart. Secondly, I don't answer to you. You work for me. And third, and I mean this respectfully - get the fuck out of my way."

"Ohhh, you dirty slut," he spat, gripping both of your shoulders and driving you back into the foyer of your penthouse. "Don't talk to me that way, you spoiled bitch."

You whimpered as his fingers dug into your flesh. "Stop - let go of me. That hurts!" You tried to jerk away but he was too strong. He continued shoving you backward until your legs buckled and you stumbled, hitting the hard floor with an "oomph" as shockwaves of pain spiked up your spine.

"Where are my bodyguards?" You demanded, climbing up as quickly as you could manage. "Where are Ray and Diego?" You frantically scrambled backward, searching for anything you could use for a weapon - when you remembered your gun.

"Uh, uh, uh, where are you going, slut?" Dumbest bodyguard number three scolded, grabbing your hair and yanking you back down.

You screamed in pain, but then went completely still as the barrel of your gun met your temple. "Looking for this?"

Your lips trembled as you whimpered in fear. "What do you want?"

An evil, growling chuckle rumbled out of him as he leaned down and breathed on your cheek, crowding in around you. His foul-smelling, sweaty body made your stomach roil...or perhaps it was the dread of what he might want to do to you.

"I've been watching you, dirty bitch." He laughed again. "Does Daddy know all the filthy things you do to yourself? How much you need a man to satisfy a nasty whore like you?"

"Fuck you," you managed before he shoved the gun's barrel into your mouth. Your body shook with sobs, but you tried desperately to hold yourself still.

"Such a filthy mouth," he hissed, yanking on your hair again. "But I'll put it to good use before I finish what Lockley started."

Lockley. That must be Jake's last name.

"You're gonna give me what I want - then you're gonna tell me where your pussy boyfriend is."

You would wonder to yourself later, how something could be so sexy with Jake, dampening your panties instantly, but be so terrifying and revolting with this asshole. The answer was as clear as day: after the first encounter with Jake, when he stabbed you - you were never in any real danger with him.

You wanted each other. It was all a bit of elaborate foreplay. What you wouldn't give to see Jake right now. Even if he only wanted to fuck you and forget you, at least he wasn't this disgusting asshole. And he wouldn't let this monster hurt you.

Your standards were definitely way too low.

"I'm gonna take this gun out of your mouth, honey, but you better be quiet or I'll have to use it. Understand?"

You quickly nodded, fresh tears leaking out of your eyes as he slowly removed the gun.

"There you go. That's a good slut. Now get on the bed."

Your shoulders shook with sobs as he used his grip on your hair to hasten you toward the bedroom. In his overzealousness, he shoved you too fast, too far, and you tripped, crying out at the rough yank, jarring your neck.

This gave you just enough time to turn around to face him, only to find your weapon pressed roughly against your forehead.

"Get...the fuck...on the bed," he growled, sweat streaming down his face as his eyes flashed with fury.

"Okay, okay," you conceded, "I won't fight you. I just fell, that's all."

Your voice seemed to exasperate him to the extreme. "Stop fucking talking," he ground out.

Mutely nodding, you sat on the edge of the bed, your stomach churning as a wave of nausea made your body physically sway.

"That's better," he condescendingly praised, running the gun along your cheek, down over the smooth column of your throat.

You allowed him to get closer because you would rather die than have him touch you, and, apparently, you were about to die anyway. If your life were an outdated film, this would be the part where the strong man would swoop in and save the day. But this was reality and no one was going to save you.

So the next instant, you simultaneously punched him as hard as you could in the crotch while biting into the wrist holding your gun, with all your might.

He screamed in pain, jerking away from you, but a mangled hole in his wrist gushed blood, causing him to drop the gun.

You sprang into action, scooping up the weapon and running for your life with the bleeding madman not ten paces behind you, screaming obscenities.

No way you would make it all the way down to the safety of the lobby. You had to wait for your private elevator first. Frantically pressing the button which responded to only a few specific fingerprints, you were relieved that the doors opened immediately. You ran inside, pushing the 'close door' button seconds ahead of your attacker, positioning your weapon in your two-handed grip, just like Jake showed you, after checking that the safety was off.

If the doors didn't close in time, you would fire.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Your staff was well-trained to pay no mind to the odd things you did, and, although it was tempting to stumble into the lobby screaming for help, you decided to try to make it outside the building first.

Because the terrifying thought overcame you - which of your staff could you truly trust if one of your own bodyguards worked for the enemy?

"Jake," you whispered to yourself. "I need Jake." Ridiculous, since he was hired to kill you. You whimpered, feeling truly alone.

Realizing your mouth was covered in blood, you yanked off your sweater and used it to clean yourself up a little bit. When the bell dinged and the elevator doors opened, you left the sweater behind, but kept your loaded weapon ready in your hand.

You darted out a side door, into the street. If anyone fucked with you, they were getting a bullet and your father's lawyers could sort it out.

You scurried down about a block before ducking into an alley, trying to get to a good vantage point to see if that asshole had followed you. And you needed a second to think and to breathe.

As the tiniest bit of shock began to ease off, the taste of blood in your mouth, along with the thought of that disgusting man made your stomach flip and roil until you were sure you were about to spill your breakfast all over the pavement.

You felt too sick for a moment to mind your surroundings - what choice did you have? But before you ever got sick, strong hands gripped your arms. You screamed, flinching, but while attempting to bring your weapon up with both hands, someone stopped you.

"Hey, hey it's me. It's me - it's okay."

Jake.

Your traumatized body took a few extra seconds to catch up to your brain as you struggled against his grasp.

"Shhh, cariño, it's okay," he soothed, running his fingers along your wrist to carefully remove the gun from your grip. "I've got you."

"Jake," you sobbed, sagging against him as your legs gave out. "H-he's trying to kill me."

Jake mistakenly thought you meant him.

"No, I'm not gonna hurt you, it's okay."

But your body stiffened and struggled in terror. "He's coming! He's gonna kill me, Jake, please..."

That's when he saw the blood staining your lips, chin and throat. That, in addition to you running wildly down an alley, with a weapon, no less, and dropping to your knees...

Feeling sick at the thought of what might've happened to you, he thought it best to get you off the street.

"Come with me," he gently directed, guiding you by the arms toward his car, while making sure to stay alert and ready for whoever was surely following you.

"No, he's coming," you whimpered. "He's right behind me."

"Shh, baby, I got you, come on. I'm gonna get you out of here."

Thankfully his car was parked right at the end of the alley. Jake had been watching your building - that's how he saw you exiting and got to you so quickly.

Pulling you into the front seat, right up against him, he drove away as fast as he could without raising suspicion.

He took the streets, following all green lights, so he wouldn't have to stop until the two of you were dozens of blocks away from your hotel. You leaned heavily against him, sniffling softly, your body still rigid with terror.

At the next red light, Jake tugged his jacket off and wrapped it around you before buckling you in securely. You said nothing, but, after a few more minutes, your eyes drifted closed.

Jake drove around, purposely, in circles, doubling back to make sure you weren't followed. He finally decided to take you to the warehouse he often hid out in to lay low.

The warehouse was old, and freezing cold even in the summer, so he kept you in the car, which was now parked inside the building.

Switching off the engine, he shifted in his seat so he could get a good look at you, cupping your cheek and lifting your gaze up to meet his.

"Are you hurt?"

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head.

"Are you sure? Whose blood is this?" Reaching into his jacket, he produced a handkerchief, using it to clean the dried blood from your lips. He offered you a drink of his water bottle, allowing you to rinse your mouth out, before you asked for a mint to settle your stomach. Anything to eradicate the disgusting taste and memory of that vile creature. Jake rummaged around and found some old ones from when he used to smoke that worked well enough.

"I-I bit him," you choked out, the memory almost making you gag again. "He was trying to kill me."

Jake's dark eyes shifted, softening with concern. "Who's trying to kill you?"

"My new bodyguard," you whimpered. "He-he attacked me. He shoved a gun in my mouth." A sob interrupted your explanation, and Jake shuddered, realizing he'd done the same - threatened you, stabbed you, shoved a gun in your mouth.

"I'm sorry," he mournfully offered, swiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You don't deserve this."

"Jake," you whispered, gripping his arms desperately, as if trying to drag him closer to you, "I think he works for your boss. He said he was going to finish what Lockley started. I-is that your name? Lockley?"

He nodded, aching to comfort you, while knowing he was the source of your pain. "I am Jake Lockley," he breathed on your temple, a gloved hand running up and down your arm. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'll fucking kill him."

"Where have you been?" You sniffled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tucked you flush against his side, with one of your thighs slung across his lap. "I sent you that glove, but once I got it back, I didn't know if I would see you again."

Touching his forehead to yours, Jake sighed, regretfully. "I was watching...trying to protect you. I was right outside your building today. That's how I got to you so fast."

Easing back, you blinked at him so sweetly, you almost looked innocent. "You were?"

"Yeah," he breathed, with the faintest smile. "I know you probably hate me. I can't blame you for that, but I think about you all the time."

"I think about you too...all the time," you uttered as his lips covered yours. Melting against him, you shifted closer, the core of you pressed firmly against the meat of his thick, muscular thigh. His tongue slid possessively over yours as his fingertips dug into your hips, pulling you down, encouraging your movements back and forth.

The friction against your clit made your breath stutter - the notion that he wanted you to do this, soaking your panties instantly. Rocking back and forth eagerly, your mind drifted back to how close you were to unraveling in his arms in the club, in front of everyone. Now you were finally alone - he was really here and he felt so perfect.

"That's it, baby...take what you need." He shared your breath, the heat of your panting going straight to his cock. Needing to feel more of you on him, he used your hungry grip on him to move you across his lap, guiding your luscious thighs over his, caging him in.

Shifting in his lap, you noticed the bulge forming in his pants. "Were you thinking about me when you used that glove?"

Jake's eyes shifted from wide, pleading - sorrowful...to dilated with intrigue. "Not these gloves," he lowly replied, squeezing the swell of your hips before easing them down over the curve of your ass. "But the one I sent you...yeah."

Squirming against him, you sought out that perfect spot - where his fully erect cock could press against your core. Probably stupid to be fooling around at a time like this, but anything was better than the terror you'd felt this morning.

"How did you imagine me, Jake?" You murmured, your breath fanning over his parted lips, temptingly rolling your hips forward and back one time.

"Just like this," he admitted, grabbing two handfuls of your delicious ass and pushing you down on his erection. "In my car, on my lap, the way you are right now."

"Like this?" You repeated, rocking your hips in a slow, steady rhythm, pulling his cap off his head and tossing it aside. Then you sank your fingers into his thick curls and licked into his open mouth.

Jake eagerly responded, matching your hungry kiss, his lips so pliant, but with a demand of their own. Your bodies rolled together, craving the most intimate contact - the thrusting of your tongues a mere taste of what your bodies might feel like fully connected.

Jake's breath stuttered in surprise as you worked open his pants before trailing your fingers underneath his shirt to touch his surprisingly soft abdomen.

Thrilled that you really seemed to want to go further, he helped you work the shirt over his head, watching as you licked your lips at the sight of him bare chested.

"You don't look like a killer," you surprisingly observed, tracing his defined pectorals with your fingertips.

"Yeah?" His eyebrows shot up challengingly. "How do I look?"

Slipping your hand into his pants, you traced the shape of his cock, breathing right on his lips. "Like someone I want to eat alive."

Something like a growl rumbled out of his chest as you released your grip on him, your hips rolling over his deliciously, with renewed urgency.

Slipping his hand between your rocking bodies, his fingers pushed aside your flimsy panties. He found the sopping core of you, exhaling in a rush at your slippery wetness, strumming and caressing until he found the swollen bud craving his attention.

As soon as you felt his gloved fingertips on your clit, you could think of nothing else but how much you needed to come. All the fantasies, all the depraved weapon play, moaning his name in your bed, night after night - this was finally him - or as close as you could get at the moment.

His body, his fingers rolling expertly over your clit, his cock rubbing your cunt, his breath in your mouth, your name on his lips...

"Come for me like this," he coaxed, rubbing you furiously.

You bucked against him, moaning at the extra stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Say my name."

His voice, rumbling on your ear took you right over the edge, your body seizing in a surge of pleasure completely new.

"Jake," you moaned, your back arching, thrusting your chest against his bare skin.

"Knew you would sound so good when you came for me, corazón. Been waiting for this."

That's as far as your escapade went before a gunshot resounded in the parking garage, shattering the passenger's side window, narrowly missing your head.

In fact, if you had not leaned into Jake's mouth at that precise moment to kiss him, you would be dead, with a bullet in your brain.

Jake moved so fast, you could barely register what was happening. You were shoved face down into the floorboard with an order to stay down - shots were fired while you covered your head. Only a minute later, Jake was yanking you up, using his gloved hand to rake the shattered glass off the seat. He laid his jacket down for you to sit on and pulled his discarded t-shirt back over his head.

He didn't speak again until you peeled out of the parking garage.

"We have to get out of the city. Unless you want me to take you to your father." he roughly informed, glancing over to see if you were okay. "You hurt, baby?"

You drew a trembling breath, pretty much at your limit of life-or-death scares for the day. "No. Are you?"

He was. But what did it matter when he was going to get you killed?

"I'll go with you. Please just get me out of here." is all you said for a long while.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

About an hour later, Jake pulled into a different warehouse and ushered you out of the car, grabbing his jacket and hat, along with a bag from the trunk. Then he guided you to a different, more run down old sedan.

“Nothing fancy but at least there’s not glass on the seat,” he explained. 

You were asleep by the time you arrived at Jake's safe house, somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania. It was a spot over halfway between his least favorite city, Chicago, and the city he could disappear in, New York.

He would regroup, make a plan, and then leave for London by way of New York. If you wanted to go back to your father, fine. But part of him was starting to hope you would stay with him. Although he could not give you one single compelling reason to do so, except for maybe how good he would fuck you if he ever truly got his hands on you.

"We're here, cariño," he whispered, gently brushing his gloved hand over your cheek to ease you awake. "Let's get you inside." Pulling his cap over his curls, he shook out his jacket and eased it back on, hissing at the wound on his arm, not wishing to bother you with his pain.

You drearily nodded, allowing him to usher you into the house - his heart swelling at the trust you seemed to place in him.

"Where are we?" You questioned, wrapping your arms around yourself as he turned on a small lamp away from the entryway. He poked around for a few minutes, making sure the shades were drawn and the house was secure before answering you.

As he drew his weapon, you flinched. "Was that him shooting at us? My bodyguard?"

Jake explained to you that it was, but he was dead now.

Sinking down on the old couch in the safe house living room, you sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"You honestly tried to do the same thing to me, Jake. Everyone wants me dead, I mean - what is even the point of running?"

He withdrew, as if you'd slapped him across the face. But you deserved answers.

"I know I did the same and worse," Jake finally responded, pulling his flat cap off his head to rake his gloved hand through his curls, while setting his weapon on the end table. "You have no reason to trust me, but, today, you did. Why?"

His eyes sought yours out. He needed answers too.

Shaking your head slowly, you shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know. I feel safe with you. I know it doesn't make sense - I'm clearly a horrible judge of character, but...I do."

Nodding, he eased toward you, kneeling in front of where you sat. Spreading his hands over your thighs, he peered up into your eyes. "I agree - it doesn't make sense for you to trust me, but...maybe you're a better judge of character than you think. You feel safe with me because you are safe with me. And you were smart enough to get away from that asshole trying to hurt you today. I'm only sorry I got to you too late."

You didn't answer, your head dropping down in defeat.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek in his hand. "You are safe here."

"Okay," you weakly agreed, hoping he was right.

Sizing you up for a moment, Jake reached for the gun - his weapon that he'd set on the end table. He also produced your gun he'd collected earlier, stashed in his jacket.

"Here, take these," he encouraged, presenting the weapons to you, before gesturing down at his chest. "You can search me. Search the whole house. I don't have any other weapons." His eyes cut to the side thoughtfully. "Actually, I do have two more in my trunk, plus ammunition, but - "

You weakly chuckled, taking the guns and setting them back down on the end table beside you. "I'm not going to sleep with four guns just to keep you away from me."

It almost seemed as if he didn't hear you for a minute as he chewed on his lip. "Shit. Five. There's one under the sink. I'll get it."

"Jake, stop," you laughed out, pulling his arm to keep him with you - the motion causing him to hiss in pain.

"Yes ma'am," he shot back, a bit playfully. He smirked, putting on a brave face, but it was too late. You were already inspecting the previously unnoticed blood tinged stain on his brown jacket sleeve.

"Oh my god, did you get shot? Take this off." You demandingly grasped at his jacket, which hurt even worse. He cursed under his breath, but complied, revealing a gunshot wound in his bicep. Thankfully, the bullet grazed his arm, but it was still a bloody mess, quite literally.

"Shit, Jake...do you have a first aid kit? This looks awful."

"Uh yeah, somewhere," he mumbled, shrugging away from your triage. "It's nothing."

You huffed, ordering him to the bathroom, to sit on the closed toilet lid, and remove his shirt. Once you were ready with first aid supplies, you dabbed the wound to clean it, only slightly unnerved by the way he gazed up at you. There was something earnest in his eyes that made you swallow thickly.

Still, he hissed as the antiseptic stung his flesh.

“Don’t be a pussy.” Your mouth ran away with you before you could think to stop it.

The corner of his lips curled, but he spared you a reply. You went on this way for a few minutes, gazes flickering, locking and drifting away, with him pretending not to flinch in pain.

As if seeking a distraction, his fingers inched underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing your soft skin temptingly, drifting upward until they caught on the rough flesh of the scar. His scar.

A sharp intake of breath gave him pause. “Does it hurt?” He roughly whispered, boldly dragging up the fabric so he could see with his own eyes. The angry flesh should summon feelings of guilt, but he wet his lips, relishing the fact that he’d marked you.

"Just sensitive," you fibbed, shivering as his gloved hand cupped the underside of your breast.

"Do you think of me when you see it, corazón - when you touch it? About the first time I pushed my way inside you?"

Your hand slipped, your fingernail raking over his gunshot wound.

A deep moan rumbled in the expanse of his chest as he shifted to accommodate his growing bulge.

“Does it hurt?” You teased back, pressing down a little harder. His cock twitched.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, cupping your breasts in both hands, working them in his gloved palms, tweaking your nipples roughly.

"Fuck, Jake," you panted as he dragged his hands back down - one of them pausing at your scar while the other slid inside your pants. Licking his lips, he cupped your mound possessively, glaring hard into your eyes before pulling your panties aside to find your warm, wet core.

"You like it too," he almost choked, plunging a finger deep inside you while his other hand pressed down on your scar.

You moaned as he fucked a second gloved finger into you with no warning - the sting of the intrusion of not being quite ready for him combined with the burning of your still-healing scar making you feral.

Jake laughed, darkly, so you raked your own finger across his wound, making him curse you in Spanish and snarl, dark eyes flashing.

You'd never wanted him so badly.

"Good girl, that's it," he praised, as if he hadn't just said 'fuck you' one sentence earlier.

His gloved fingers pumped in and out of you now in a steady rhythm and your hips started to roll to meet his grip, your mouth dropping open as your heavy panting devolved into a long moan...

...a sound which seemed to draw Jake to his feet, grabbing you by the throat and using his grip on your neck and his fingers deep in your pussy to shove you up against the door - the force of which slammed it closed.

The wild hunger in his eyes almost made you come instantly as your body liquified under his demanding and powerful touch.

The gloves typically did it for you, but something was different now - the craving to feel him, closer than in the club, or in the car.

You tried to bat his hand away from your throat but he squeezed tighter. But unlike in the club, you didn't feel scared. Or maybe you did but it was another deranged aphrodisiac.

Unable to get his hand to budge, you ran your mouth instead. "Do you ever take off those damn gloves?" You wheezed.

And he stopped, his eyes narrowing as he studied you carefully. Then he eased his gloved hand up over your chin to rest on your lips, pulling down just a little on your bottom lip.

You assumed he wanted you to suck his fingers - that's what you had dreamed about him anyway.

"Take it off for me," he said instead.

Eyes locked, you slightly nodded, gently biting the ends of his fingertips and loosening the glove, working it free until he could pull his hand out and you could drop the glove from your mouth.

Then, so casually, as if his fingers weren't doing wonders inside your cunt, he yanked them out and showed you the other glove.

"This one's for me," he told you, licking your juices off one finger before pulling the glove free, just like the first one.

This left you half undressed, soaked and panting with Jake shirtless, hatless and finally, gloveless - the two of you suspended only a moment longer before he gripped the sides of your face - your mouths and bodies colliding.

The breadth of his hips pinned you in place against the wall as he kissed you wildly. The heat of his breath consumed you, almost taking the fight out of you as you liquified in his arms. Almost.

Tired of all the teasing and dry humping, you yanked hard at his pants, working him free until your fingers could feel his cock. Taking his length in your hand, you twisted and tugged, your fingers dampening with drops of precum.

The two of you yanked and pulled at your remaining clothes until you were bare at last.

God, your fantasies weren't wrong. He was gorgeous - sculpted yet soft, smooth and hairy in all the right places - tan skin waiting to be marked by your mouth, by your fingernails. Various scars and scrapes littered his near perfect skin, telling the story of his violent life. You wanted to touch and kiss each one, to claim them - to know them.

And his fucking cock - no wonder he was so self-assured. Thick and perfect - not ridiculously huge but enough that it was going to stretch you so good.

Your mind processed this all in about two seconds before Jake turned you around and pushed you up against the counter, crowding in behind you, with both of you facing the mirror.

"Watch me fuck you," he lowly growled on your ear, gripping your hips in his (finally) bare hands and lifting you up slightly. You felt the length of him rubbing between your folds, soaking his cock with your juices.

"Dripping and I'm not even inside you yet." Releasing your hips, he gripped his straining length with one hand, lining himself up and pushing his fat tip into your tight hole.

You moaned like a whore, your back arching at the intrusion, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of him thrusting all the way inside, filling you so full and so right. "Oh fuck, Jake..."

His arms wound around your abdomen, pressing you possessively back against him just like in the club. Only now you were alone, and naked and his cock was buried deep inside you.

Fucking finally.

He felt your pussy quivering and clenching him already, convinced your body was made to fit his.

"This what you wanted? When you came on my knife? Fucked yourself with my gun?"

"My gun," you gasped, the air punched out of your lungs as he used his grip on your torso to push and pull you down over his length faster.

His hands eased up to cup your bouncing tits, your bodies moving together perfectly - the reflection turning you on beyond belief. This was better than porn - watching him fondle and fuck and handle you without treating you like an object or like a porcelain princess like every man before him.

"Jake," you panted, your head falling back on his shoulder. "Faster."

This man was a fucking genius with his hands. Releasing your breasts, he pushed two fingers down to strum at your swollen clit, while the other hand wrapped around your throat. Again.

“Taking this cock so good,” he groaned, squeezing your throat, his hips slamming against you as he speared you over his cock so hard - the image of your bouncing bodies really doing it for you.

"That's it, muñeca," he purred, your body going limp as curled himself around you, using his dirty grip on you to move you however he pleased. "You're mine now."

A burning, clenching flame pulsed in the center of you and you gave yourself over to it, reveling in the dark parts of yourself - the hungry animal inside that hurdled toward orgasm at the thought of the pressure on your throat...or the slight sting of him brutally fucking you.

Reaching behind you, you grasped haphazardly for his gunshot wound, shoving your finger inside it forcefully.

"Fucking hell," Jake hissed, pulling his fingers off your clit to smack you there - as a warning or as an agreement, you weren't sure, and didn't care.

"Pussy," you mocked, sliding that bloodied hand into his curls on the back of his head and yanking hard.

"Princesa," he fired back, remembering how much you hated it.

"Don't call me that," you growled, pulling his hair harder this time, toward you, turning your head to meet his waiting mouth, your lips crashing together like a force of nature.

Jake had never fucked anyone like you. Hell, he'd never met anyone like you. And he was about to come inside you - your tight, wet walls gripping his cock so good. So he rubbed your clit fast and hard, licking into your mouth, just to feel you clench around his dick before he lost it.

The pressure inside you finally snapped - your walls gripping him as your body shuddered with the hardest orgasm of your life, pleasure rolling through every nerve ending - all the fantasies and toys and weapons nothing compared to this man, wrapped around you, inside you.

Jake couldn't last a second longer, roughly pulling himself out just in time to come all over your bare ass, coating you with his spend - a strangled groan rumbling from deep inside his heaving chest.

You glanced back into the mirror in time to see his face contorted in pleasure as a string of Spanish obscenities flew out of his perfect mouth.

You started to turn around but he stopped you, gripping your shoulders and keeping you facing the mirror.

In the reflection you could see him licking his lips. You realized he was staring at your backside - at the sight of his cum all over your skin. “Good girl,” he purred on your ear, spreading his palm over the round curve of your ass to mark you further with his cum.

Your knees were about ready to give out, even more so from his praise, so you braced yourself on the countertop with your arms, panting heavily. He destroyed you and you loved it.

The next moment, you felt the loss of his body heat as he turned on the shower before catching your eye in the mirror. “Come here.”

You nodded, stepping in the warm spray, happy to hold onto Jake’s arms for support.

“That good huh?” His eyebrows shot up almost playfully.

You hummed out an affirmative.

“What, no smartass reply?” He could hardly believe it.

By now you noticed Jake was purposely keeping his wounded arm from getting wet.

"Hey," you said, resting your hand on his elbow. "We have to clean this up. For real this time. Okay?"

His jaw clenched, but he nodded, allowing you to guide his arm underneath the spray.

"Fuck," he hissed, and for once...you shut your mouth. No mocking. Not after he got shot for you.

Instead you carefully washed him, making sure the wound was clean before using the soap to continue cleaning up and down his arm, then up over the breadth of his shoulder. You moved on to his chest, your eyes flickering up to his momentarily before continuing over his other shoulder and down his opposite arm.

"Can I wash your hair?" You asked him, almost sweetly.

He wistfully smiled, his gaze fixed intently on yours as you lathered up your hands and threaded your fingers through his curls, scraping his scalp with your fingernails. He hummed and then sighed, the tenseness in his ever-ready-to-fight form relaxing for once.

"When was the last time somebody took care of you?" You whispered, working your fingers deeper into his locks.

Your question was rhetorical, but he cleared his throat. "Long time," he returned, his eyes drifting downward.

Just then, you yelped, jerking your hand away from his head, your finger pulsing with fresh blood.

"Jesus," he gasped. "What happened?"

"I'm okay," you assured him, running your finger under the water. "There's glass in your hair."

"Fuck...I'm sorry," he lamented, stepping into the stream to finish washing his own hair.

You said nothing for a moment, your gaze flickering between your finger, the gunshot wound on his arm and his hair. “No. I'm sorry," you finally uttered. "This is because of me," you went on, placing your palms on the expanse of his chest. "Jake...you saved my life."

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The safe house had a few supplies - some t-shirts and sweatpants, some non-perishable food, a supply of water, a gun and some ammunition and a go bag - with yet another weapon (Jake was wrong - there were six total guns), an extra outfit, cash and other necessities.

“Sorry this is all I have,” he spoke softly, watching you pull old sweatpants over your bare hips. “I’m gonna make a supply run.”

You stopped short, glaring at him. “When? Now?”

He nodded, easing a white undershirt over his head, careful to avoid his bandaged wound. “Yeah, you’re gonna need some more clothes - we need more food, updated map, burner phones, stuff like that. But I’ll only get some of that here. We have to move on before we buy it all at once. Too suspicious.”

You weren’t sure what to address first - the fact that the burner phone in his go bag wasn’t enough? The fact that he used paper maps? Or the fact that he wanted to go for a milk run at a time like this.

“Okay, let me find my shoes,” you finally responded.

“No, cariño,” he refuted, holding out his arm to stop you. “You stay here.”

Your chest tightened as you shook your head rapidly. “No. You can’t leave me here. Please don’t leave me here. Th-they’ll find me.”

Grasping your shoulders, Jake peered deeply into your eyes. “No one is going to find you. You’re safe here.” He nodded toward the door. “If I take you out there, I put you in danger. Someone could see us together, there are cameras everywhere. You have to stay here.”

“Jake,” your lip trembled as you grasped at his shirt. “I don’t want to stay here by myself. I don’t want to be alone, please…”

“No, baby,” he firmly answered, realizing as you jerked away from him and cursed, that you weren’t accustomed to being told no very often. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. I promise.”

He was fucking serious - this, you realized as he started toward the door.

“I hate you!” You spat, tears burning your eyes, possessing nothing to fight with but your words. It’s all you’d ever been able to wield for yourself that didn’t belong to your father - your father’s power, his money…

Jake stopped, his shoulders sagging. He didn’t even spare you a glance. “You have every reason to.” Pulling that damn cap onto his head, he reached for his car keys. “I know you’re afraid, but you’re strong. You’ll be okay.”

No one had ever asked this of you - to be on your own - to take care of yourself. The notion that you could be responsible yourself was completely foreign to you, and certainly to your father and your staff. And something inside you wanted to prove yourself to Jake so badly. 

Still, you somehow felt like that helpless, spoiled girl all of the sudden, ready to demand your way. But it wouldn’t work. Not with Jake.

“Wait…please, just - I have one more question,” you meekly voiced, holding your hands up in a supplicating fashion. 

Jake looked at you then, his eyes softening at your torment.

Shit. You had almost been killed today. Twice. And then you ran out of town with him - with another man who stabbed you and attempted to kill you. And then that whole interlude in the bathroom just now... Jake wondered, for a moment, if he was too rough with you.

“What is it, corazón?” He softly answered.

You dug deep and tried with everything inside you not to lash out or make demands. “W-what should I do if someone comes?”

He immediately shook his head. “No one will find you here - “

“Please - just tell me,” you begged. “If someone comes, what do I do?”

Seeing how serious you were, Jake eased toward you, offering an explanation. “If you hear someone, go to the bathroom. Lock the door, but don’t hide there. Go to the bedroom at the end of the hall and hide in the closet. Take your weapon, be as fast and as quiet as you can. ¿Entiendes?”

You nodded, blinking at him so earnestly it almost made him change his mind.

He reached for your cheek, brushing gloved fingers gently over your skin. “Stay hidden. Quiet. If someone finds you, hold your weapon like I showed you - two hands, strong. Safety off…” He trailed off, shuddering at the thought of you needing to use your gun.

“And fire?” You questioned. 

“Fire,” he confirmed. “If you empty your magazine, fight like hell.” Touching his forehead to yours, he softly added, “You’re a fighter. Don’t ever stop.”

“Okay,” you whispered against his mouth. “Hurry.”

He kissed you fiercely before tearing himself away and heading for the door once more. Pausing one last time, he glanced back over his shoulder. “I promise I wouldn’t leave you unless I had to. Unless I was sure you’re safer here. I won’t be long.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you to fret and your mind to question if this was salvation…or an elaborate kidnapping. 

next

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Jake Lockley-Centric stories

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you think any of the OI characters could be convinced to put on a sexy nurse outfit, while taking care of their sick partner?

I am giggling! (I really tried not to just be like YES to all of them, but I am a weak, weak person.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: silliness, references to sexy times

Word Count: 465

_____________________________________

Steven: Giggles the whole time, and puts on a fantastically over the top accent to go with the new character he’s created. You have to kiss him to shut him up when he starts quoting Carry On, Doctor.

Marc: Will put on the outfit and make you take your medicine and go to sleep. “I’m taking care of you, so you feel better, why did you want something else?” Is a little shit about it until you beg him for kisses.

Jake: No sooner than the words are out of your mouth, he’s already scrambling to get changed. Nurse Lockley is here with medicine (his dick) and to take care of you (fuck your brains out if you’re up to it.) 

Nathan: Nathan ‘I’m not putting that fucking thing on’ Bateman. Getting all grumpy and muttering under his breath. The second you are out of the room though and (preferably) laying down, he’s knocking on the door in the most outrageous outfit you’ve ever seen and telling you he’s ‘been hired by Dr Bateman to take care of you’.

Anselm: You never have to even bring up the idea, because Anselm has already dressed up for you in a nurse’s outfit many times. (He has several for different occasions, but tends to prefer a custom made latex one that is skin tight and crotchless.) 

Cecil: Thinks the idea is hilarious and gets a little too into character. Tries to wear a pair of very high heels and you just about manage to convince him to take them off before he falls over and gives himself a concussion. 

Club!Blue: Doesn’t mind dressing up at all and is far too into it. (If a guard knocks on his office door, he will be answering it in full costume and with his cock out.)

Orderly!Blue: Please do not encourage this man. 

Jack: Has a disturbingly realistic outfit with blood stains that you do NOT want to ask where they came from. 

Santiago: Takes some convincing because it makes him feel a little self conscious, but he wants to try to not only cheer you up but also to get over some insecurities and he knows he’s safe with you.

Shimmer!Kane: Puts it on without a second thought, clothes are clothes, right? However he does like that it makes you happy. 

King John: Even though this is not historically time period accurate, I can’t help myself - he’s gonna fuck you in a plague doctor mask. I’m sorry.

Rydal: Will be a brat about it, because he wants you to spank him in the outfit.

Laurent: Starts going on about how he’s a ‘wet nurse’ and keeps shoving his boobs in your face.

Poe: As if this man doesn’t have 400 outfits on hand at all times.

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