#Marc Appreciation Week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

813 notes · View notes

eyelessfaces · 1 year

Text

drenched flowers

marc spector x reader

summary: you and marc had a serious fight and have been avoiding each other since. the tension is hard to handle for everyone, and your only wish is to make things right again between you and marc, only he strictly refuses to front...

warnings: angst, allusions to fighting obviously, i think that's it but please tell me if you can think of anything else while reading?

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, it ends well I promise, fluff, marc being his grumpy and angsty and emo self, steven and jake are here too for emotional support

word count: 2.2k

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

Jake had yelled at him to confront you so the situation could get better; Steven had begged him to apologize because he saw how affected you were, but all Marc could do for now was to frown in disgruntlement and put a towel over the mirror to prevent himself from smashing it.

Not seeing them anymore didn’t change much as the two men still kept on ranting, but somehow it gave Marc the impression of having more control over the situation.

At least that was what he thought.

The resonating sound of the front door closing quickly left him to let Steven be in charge of the body for your return, to avoid heavy gazes and deafening silences in the flat.

It had been like this for a little more than a week.

This freezing, uncomfortable atmosphere everytime Marc fronted – which he rarely did lately for those reasons –, with the both of you avoiding your presences and throwing snarky remarks at each other every time you really had to talk. You couldn’t say this was enjoyable, In fact this was a pain for everyone, including Steven and Jake, and you knew that this whole situation caused them to fight too.

Steven exited the bathroom, sighing loudly now that Marc gave up on fronting.

He and Jake had found common ground in trying to convince Marc to apologize, but Marc was stubborn and headstrong so this was a lost cause.

Steven looked up and smiled at you when he noticed you were there.

“Hey love” he huffed out with a smile, walking to you to help with the bags of groceries. “How was your day?” he asked as he walked to the kitchen, putting the bags on the island. You followed him and offered him a sigh before answering his question.

“Really meh. Could have been better” you said while unloading the bags and putting away their content. “People at work were rude and people at the store were standing right in front of what I wanted to pick. Each time”

He chuckled in response and turned to stand in front of you.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll take care of the bags, go take care of yourself” he smiled before kissing your forehead.

“Thank you Steven. And you, did you have a good day? What had you sighing when I arrived?” you asked, smoothing the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, that? Had a little chat with the gentlemen. Didn’t go so well” he declared as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You nodded, pressing your lips together skeptically, noting that you weren’t the only one having trouble talking to Marc. You closed your eyes and hugged Steven tight.

The only good thing about your fight with Marc was that the affection you didn’t give to Marc, you gave to Steven and Jake.

Sadly.

—

Steven whistled softly as he beelined to the bedroom area with two hot chocolates in hands. You telling him you had a bad day always resulted in this and cuddles, and usually never failed to make you feel better.

But Steven understood the situation was worse than that when he noticed you were curled up on your side, wiping away warm tears running down your face.

“Steven.” Jake called out. Steven caught his alter’s glare in the full length mirror, an empathetic expression on his reflection. “Let me take care of that”

Steven surrendered the body to Jake without a word nor a question, and Jake walked around the bed to put down the cups on the bedside table before snuggling up behind you.

He pressed his chest against your back and snaked his arms around your waist before brushing away the hair sticking to your face because of the tears, and nuzzled the back of your neck.

“Jake” you breathed out in a barely audible sound.

The tight grip around you made you notice the change.

Jake shifted and left a kiss on your damp cheek. “I’m here, amor” he whispered. “I got you.”

You sighed and interlaced your fingers with his.

You both stayed here in silence, Jake softly caressing your stomach and kissing your shoulder from time to time while you tried to calm down and stop crying. The silence was somehow comforting and cathartic, even though you would rather have Jake have a normal evening rather than having to bear with you and your feelings.

“I miss him.” you muttered under your breath after a while. “I miss Marc”

Jake hesitated before talking, not sure of what he should say to try to make you feel better.

“I know, I’m sorry honey” he said as he blinked tiredly, hearing Marc sigh softly. “He won’t tell us anything but I’m pretty sure he misses you too.” he declared sternly as he caught Marc’s remorseful and shameful face in the reflection of the fish tank. “I’m sure he does.” he said as his brows furrowed at Marc and his hold tightened around you.

Marc’s shoulders slouched under the weight of guilt and the man couldn’t feel anything except utter frustration.

—

When you woke up the next morning they were gone. The spot next to you in the bed was cold as if a ghost was laying there and the flat was dead silent.

The only sound present was the rain pouring in the streets of London, raindrops quickly running down the windows considering how violent the precipitation was.

You sat up straight, pushing the covers away from your body.

This wasn’t normal.

Steven wasn’t supposed to be at the museum today, Jake wasn’t supposed to drive around today, and both of them would have told you if Marc was supposed to go on a mission for Khonshu.

The freezing temperature and that feeling of worry lodged deep inside of you made you shiver, urging you to put on one of Marc’s hoodies; the only proximity you could get from him from these past days.

You wandered around the flat, looking for any sign that they were here, but there were none.

You tried to be rational, you tried not panicking, so you ran to take your phone and call them.

He stepped into the flat, soaked from the rain. The previously slicked back curls were now falling in front of his face, thick drops of water falling on the old wooden floor.

He sighed as he watched the drenched flowers in his hand, petals falling down in a depressing way as they had been hammered by the rain.

Even buying you flowers he couldn’t do right, he thought.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the creak of the front door. You urged yourself to the entry, and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your boyfriend back home.

“You’re here– Aw Jake” you cooed – almost out of breath from nearly freaking out – at the sight of the bouquet of flowers.

The man in front of you cleared his throat and pinched his lips in a signature awkward smile and you knew.

“Oh”

Marc adjusted his position of his feet and held out the bouquet to you.

“I, uh–” he paused and sighed. “You know I’m better with actions than with words, but I still need to tell you that I’m sorry.” he affirmed weakly, voice barely audible.

You walked up to him and took the flowers.

They looked beaten up, tired, but still beautiful.

“It started raining as soon as I left the flower shop, sorry… For that and for everything else.” Marc muttered under his breath.

You looked up at him and observed his pained expression.

Marc looked just like the flowers. Beaten up, tired, but still beautiful.

“...Marc” you huffed out, shaking your head.

“I’m really sorry. I mean it. I’m an asshole” he said nodding.

He was angry at himself, and he was sad, but he was first of all sorry.

He was sorry because he didn’t mean those words to slip out, sorry because he thought he couldn’t be the boyfriend you deserved to have, sorry because all of this should have never happened.

“They’re alright” you smiled, looking back at the flowers. “I think I like them more that way.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I mean it.” you cut him off, still staring at the flowers. There was something poetic about them being crushed by the rain.

“I hate pretending not to care about you.” he let out abruptly. You looked back at him, and raised your eyebrows. “I can’t stand it.” he declared, the inner corner of his brows angled up, attesting of his vulnerability.

You sighed as a shiver ran up your spine and tears started to threaten your eyes.

“Marc–” you started.

“You know I love you, right?” he cut you off, chasing your gaze.

You let out a shudder, quickly looking away from him because you knew you would start crying if you kept on looking at his face.

You looked at the rain-painted thin windows and nodded.

“I know”

Your voice resonated through the apartment, as if it was an abandoned building.

The wood floors creaked under Marc’s feet as he took a step towards you, and you let the bouquet of flowers fall to the floor, a barely audible sound compared to the sigh of relief you let out when you crashed into Marc’s arms.

“Fucking hell, you’re a pain in the ass, Marc Spector” you groaned against his chest, and he let out a sigh of relief and chuckle.

“I know, I’m sorry” he replied almost too seriously, wrapping his arms around you too. “I’m sorry” he repeated, and you dug your nails into his damp jacket, holding him tighter.

You stayed like this for a while, a few tears unwillingly running down your cheeks, just appreciating each other's presence and the relaxing feeling of being able to be in the same room without fighting.

Being able to hold him close and to finally get that proximity you had been missing and craving felt reviving.

“Baby get off me, you’re gonna catch a cold” he advised.

“Damn, not even two minutes since we made peace and you already don’t want me anymore” you joked, quickly pecking his lips before reluctantly pulling away from his drenched clothes.

He chuckled as he took off his jacket and put it over the radiator, watching as you picked up the bouquet of flowers from the floor.

“Those flowers were expensive” he grumbled, pushing away the curls falling over his forehead.

“It’s okay. I don’t need flowers to forgive you, Marc” you declared as you went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and put the flowers in it. You didn’t need those flowers to forgive him, but your heart still ached positively at the action. He was worried about their depressing state, but you couldn’t care less; they were flowers and no matter how they looked they remained flowers: beautiful and significant.

A small smile formed on his face, and he quickly kicked his shoes off to go and change into dry clothes.

You came back to him, slouching down on the bed as he thoroughly searched through the drawers of clothes.

He let out a grunt of frustration. “Where’s my–”

“Hey” you called.

“–Hoodie” he continued as he turned to you, rolling his eyes when he realized you were wearing it. He crashed next to you on the bed and you laughed. “Thief” he mumbled under his breath, laying his head over your stomach.

“Don’t be dramatic” you teased him as you covered your hand with the sleeve of his hoodie, ruffling his wet hair with it. “Want it back?”

“No that’s okay, my shirt’s not actually that wet” he said as he looked up at you. “And you somehow happen to look good with it, so…”

“‘Somehow happen?’ asshole” you laughed as you sat up to tickle his ribs, causing him to wriggle and writhe under your touch.

“Sto– Stop this!” he laughed, out of breath. You giggled and freed him of your tickles, laying back down on the bed. “You don’t want me to piss my pants on this bed” he affirmed.

“I don’t want you to piss your pants period.” you chuckled, and he shifted to plant his elbow right next to your face. He stared at you for a second, observing your face carefully.

“I love you” he whispered, stroking your cheek with the back of his other hand.

“Marc you can’t tell me you love me right after we talk about piss” you frowned, and he smiled softly.

“Oh yeah can’t I?” he asked teasingly, cocking an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say it’s not the most romantic thing.”

“Jake says anything can be romantic,” he shrugged.

“Jake is fucking delusional” you huffed out with a laugh.

“Steven agrees”

You bowed your head. “Thank you for being a reasonable man Steven.” you laughed, mirroring Marc’s action and planting your elbow into the mattress and holding your face with your hand too. “That being said, I love you too.” you grinned. “I missed you” you continued, brushing back the humid curls at the side of his face.

“I missed you too” he muttered. “I regret what I’ve said and done.”

“I do too. We’ll be okay.” you promised, pushing him to lay against his chest. He caged you with his arms, burying his face into your hair.

“I think we’ll be.” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be.”

—

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

moon knight taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521 @wibblywobblytimesindeed

2K notes · View notes

phantomspiderr · 1 year

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Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader

Word Count: 750+

Summary: a sleepy cuddle with Steven

Warnings/Tags: just some cuddling fluff that I think about all the time, not really any description of reader, reader also doesn't talk, trying to keep it as neutral as possible, I don't think there's anything else but let me know if I've missed something

a/n: two posts in one week omg, Happy Holidays bbys😘

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

There is no sound throughout the flat, only occasionally is the silence broken by pages turning or scribbling of notes. Another evening of research had turned into being up until the early hours of the morning. Steven was hunched over his desk, hyper-focused on researching for a new exhibition that had been announced at his work. Since he’d finally settled back at home—after everything that happened with Marc, Egypt, Khonshu, all of those things that had been addressed—he’d been dying to get back to the museum. Unfortunately, Donna still worked there and everyone still remembered he’d trashed a perfectly good bathroom for no particular reason but luckily London had many, many museums. Steven felt like his luck had finally begun to change when he came across a part-time tour guide position at another fancy museum. Then the manager had loved his enthusiasm and knowledge so much that they’d offered him the job there and then. Now he's been working there for a few months but he was still set on making a good impression, that and he just found learning all of the knowledge therapeutic. There was a deep-seated comfort for Steven in reading over history books, especially on days like today when the streets of London are covered in snow and the flat is so cosy. He is so lost in his reading that he jumps when the floorboards creak, his head whipping around to your shadowy figure. Steven’s entire body softens, his fight or flight instincts calming down when he sees that you’re wrapped up in a blanket, standing a few feet away sleepily looking at him.

“Hi, little star. What’re you doing up?” Steven reaches a hand out to you, while his other removes his glasses and places them down on the desk. You quietly walked toward him, rubbing at your eyes with your blanketed hand and he can’t stop a smile from forming. As soon as you’re close enough Steven wraps his arm around you, looking up at you fondly, “you okay?” You only nod to the question, the memory of sleep still evident in your brain and Steven knows it’s late, so late, and that he should just allow you to drag him back to bed with him but he’s almost done with this chapter. Then you let out the quietest little whine and he almost gives up there and then, “I just have a few more pages love and then I promise I’ll come to bed. I swear.” Of course, you just pout and whine a little more and again he considers just leaving the rest for tomorrow but he’s so close to being done. He just looks between you and the desk a couple times before the idea pops into his head, “come sit with me till I’m done.” You don’t even take a moment to think about it, immediately climbing into Steven’s lap. With his help, you’re straddled in his lap facing him and he’s cupping your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing the tops of your cheeks while he takes a moment just to admire you. He gives your cheek the gentlest kiss as he allows you to make yourself more comfortable, your arms along with the blanket wrapping around his shoulders and your head resting to the side, tucked against your own shoulder and his face. Steven allows himself a minute to just hold you like this, he hadn’t even realised he was a little cold until your warmth was wrapped around him. He appreciates the comfort before he starts to realise how tired he actually is and now he has to fight his drooping eyes as he picks his book up again.

In no time you've dropped back into a slumber cosied up against Steven and he's struggling now. The urge to finish the chapter slipping from him, maybe he's learned enough for one night or maybe he can just rest his eyes for a moment and he'll find the energy to finish. He decides he'll just rest for a minute and he'll be fine. So, he ever so gently nuzzles his head into your neck, the book he'd been so absorbed with abandoned on the desk in favour of wrapping his arms around your body. Then within minutes he completely succumbs to sleep, research forgotten, now all he thinks of is you. Of how warm you are and that you smell so good and that all he wants at this moment is to stay like this forever. To always be this close and comfortable.

#moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fic #steven grant fluff #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #steven grant x y/n #moonknight #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

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variety-fangirl · 1 year

Note

Can I request Marc Spector having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it totally captures his tough exterior but also his need for intimacy and closeness

Forever and Always Yours / Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: people abandoned him his whole life until he met you, you loved him endlessly despite his flaws. So any threat to that would cause Marc and the boys to become a little... jealous.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO mentions of Jake and Steven. Porn with some plot. Smut obvs 😏 (rough yet vulnerable sex, marking and spit kink, unprotected p in v, female receiving oral, hand job, mild choking, multiple orgasms, vulnerable and intimate behaviour,) lmk if I missed anything!

Author's note: of course my lovely, thank you so much for requesting 😁! I completely agree with you, our baby boy Marc has a very dominating side and yet craves/needs intimacy like his life depends on it. I'm so sorry it took me so long to do, I'm currently moving, finishing college, and trying to listen to my mental health in what I need so writing kind of got put on the back burner for a bit. Hope you love it tho! Thank you for reading, it really does mean the world. Liking, commenting, and reblogging really helps me out.

Word count: 2.8k

Your boys had always been a little... Jealous to say the least. Not that you had minded and it often ended up in my mind-blowing sex so you weren't really complaining but you sometimes wished they knew that they had nothing to worry about. That you were theirs through and through. You never had an issue with reminding any of them of that, which you knew they always appreciated, without even having to say anything. They would always be extremely vulnerable and intimate afterwards, keeping and holding you close with lots of affection on both parts. It was something you had grown to love honestly.

What you hadn't expected though, was for all three to become jealous of your new colleague at work, Justin. He was a super sweet guy, younger than you and on the slightly nerdier side. You had formed a wonderful friendship with him in only a few weeks, helping him to blossom and encouraging him to come out of his shell more. As a thank you, Justin would often buy you coffee and something sweet for breakfast every so often and offer to walk you home on the occasion. You had grown fond of the younger sweet boy, seeing him as a brother you wanted to protect. And you knew he didn't see you as anything more than a friend.

But that didn't stop your boyfriends from freaking out and acting jealous all the same. No matter how many times you had tried to ease their worries or assure them of the only innocent friendship between you and your colleague, they didn't seem to feel any less stressed about the situation. And you weren't exactly sure why. You knew the underlying feelings and traumas hiding beneath that they often refused to talk about, even Steven had been reluctant with information in the three years you'd been with them. You never pushed for further details though, only what they were willing to divulge on their own.

When you finished work this afternoon, it was like any other day. Justin offered to walk you home, his being on the way also, and left together with coffee in hand. The weather was beginning to get colder now, coats and scarves beginning to appear in people's attire. The leaves had begun to turn different colours, with peaks of orange, yellow, and brown forming. You hadn't thought it would be so cold so early, so you'd forgotten to bring a thicker coat or a scarf with you. You begin to shiver, wrapping your coat as tightly around your body and neck as possible but it didn't seem to quench the cold breeze that seemed to blow straight through you. You could feel goosebumps form on your skin. You were almost home luckily.

"You look freezing, come here." Justin fussed, pulling you into his side with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You smile up at him, "Thank you." He nods with a smile, continuing to chat mindlessly about how his latest date had gone, a friend you had set him up with. You smiled fondly, happy that the pair were getting on great, they seemed well-matched. Ten minutes later and you'd finally reached home, the cold had begun to worsen. "Thank you, Justin, I'll see you Monday yeah? Enjoy your date Saturday!" you call with a smile, waving goodbye as he walked to his own home. "See you Monday, thank you!" he called happily. You watched for a moment to ensure he was okay before making your way inside.

You couldn't wait to eat, you hadn't eaten anything in four hours and had been busy so you were starving. It was Marc's turn to cook tonight, he always had something new up his sleeve, he enjoyed cooking. He and Jake were much alike in that sense, not that poor Steven didn't try love him. Once you finally reached your floor, you unlock the door and unload your belongings in their rightful places, grateful to get your shoes off after being stood on them all day. It was 6 PM on the dot when you looked at the clock and your boyfriend was standing by the window of the living room, looking down at the scenery beneath you.

You smile and walk over, wrapping your arms around his surprisingly tense back after setting your coffee down on the living room table. You frown, wondering if something had happened, "hey baby." You whisper loud enough for him to hear, stroking the clothed skin of his back and sides. "That Justin that walked you?" Marc wondered, not making any move to reciprocate affection or turn to face you. You frown into his back, "Yes it was, why?" you question, sensing something wasn't right in his behaviour. Marc ignored your question as he turned around to finally face you, a look of something unreadable on his face.

His reply came with more annoyance and hostility than when he usually mentioned Justin, "I saw him with his arm wrapped around you, all smiles and holding you close." You sigh, pulling him closer with a small smile as you shake your head, "I was cold and didn't dress for the weather, that's all it was, nothing more baby." Grabbing the back of Marc's neck, you pull him down to connect your lips, tangling your fingers in his dark locks. You squeal into Marc's lips as he pushes you against the wall closest to you both, his hand going around your neck but not constricting your breathing. "You're mine, only mine," Marc growls with intent, tightening his grip on your neck just slightly.

You knew you shouldn't find this such a turn-on, this raw jealous possessiveness over you but damn you just couldn't help it when you felt your desire pool in your underwear, an involuntary moan escaping. Marc grabs your legs and lifts you, your body immediately tangling with his, wanting to be as close as possible. With tongues still exploring one another's mouths and hands pulling to remove each other's clothes, Marc carries you to the bedroom. Your back hits the soft mattress, and your boyfriend immediately climbs on top of you, not wanting to be away from you.

Marc pulls his shirt off, gracing your eyes with his beautifully scarred chest and back, you bite your lip as you touch his skin. You wanted him to know just how much you loved him and wanted no other, "god how did I get so lucky?" you whisper, pulling him down to kiss you once more. You often wondered what you did to deserve three amazing men in your life, gifting you with each of their amazing personalities and qualities that you adored. Your hands explore his skin with freedom as you grind against his crotch, feeling how hard he already was. Marc groaned into your mouth, his hips moving as needily as yours.

Marc pulls back enough to remove your shirt, throwing it on the floor with his. He groans as he sees you hadn't worn a bra today, his hands groping your breasts. You gasp as his fingers brush and play with your nipples, his eyes staring in wonder as they harden at the exposure of multiple sensations at once. Marc's lips attach to your left nipple, licking a stripe up the little nub before sucking gently. You throw your head back with an open mouth as electric jolts of pleasure pulse down to your core, ruining your underwear further. Marc's lips travel up your nipple to the soft flesh of your breast where he bites and sucks, the mix of pleasure from his fingers playing with your right nipple and the pain of his assault on your left breast was delicious. After a few moments, he works his way over to the other breast to repeat the process to mark the other.

As his lips kiss their way down your body to your waist, his fingers make quick work of removing your jeans and underwear. He pulls your remaining clothing down your legs, moving backwards down the bed at the same time to get off. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he discards his remaining clothing on the floor with yours. You smile as he returns on top of you, his face moving to connect with your core. Marc's tongue licked a stripe up your lips before working its way between to give your clit some attention. You cry out, finally feeling some relief of your swollen clit. Marc licked in upwards motions and sucked gently at the little nub, luckily not teasing you any further. His tongue stimulated your clit just the way you liked, each jolt of intense pleasure building the growing knot in your stomach.

"You like that baby?" Marc questions without moving his mouth away from your vagina. You nod frantically, "So good Marc." you knew each of your boys enjoyed hearing their name during sex, it made them individually feel acknowledged and special. Marc groans into your core at the mention of your nap, kitten licking you in between praises. "Look at me, who's making you feel this good?" he demanded softly, looking up at you, but not letting up on the stimulation of your clit. You lift your head to look down at him, almost coming at the sight of his dishevelled hair and swollen pink lips between your legs. You knew Marc and your other boys were possibly feeling a little insecure and jealous about the Justin thing so you wanted to squash any qualms they may have had about it. You moan, "You Marc. Only you, Steven, and Jake can ever make me feel this good and more. No one else."

He seems satisfied with your answer, his eyes flicking to the mirror in the corner of the room behind you, before turning to look back at you. "That's our girl." He dives back in but adds a finger into the mix, making you cry out instantly. The sounds of your juices filled the room obscenely, you were so wet that Marc could add a second finger quickly. It wasn't long before you could feel your orgasm approaching, the intense pleasure building at a rapid pace. "That's it, baby. Come for me." Marc groaned, pumping his fingers inside of you a little faster. You couldn't breathe properly as you approached your high, your body squirming to feel release. You scream loudly as you finally come crashing down, Marc working you through your high. He laps up everything you give him, not leaving one drop to go to waste before crawling up to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on his lips as his tongue invades your mouth, making you moan. You allow your hand to wander down Marc's body, working between his clothing and skin and grabbing his cock. He groans into your mouth as your hand wraps around his cock and slowly begin pumping him, quickly working him into a breathless mess above you. "I love you so much, Marc. You're my everything." You whisper breathily, knowing he needed to hear those words from you to feel reassured. But not just for him, for Steven and Jake also, because you knew they were watching and listening intently right now. Marc presses his forehead against yours at your words, a smile forming on his face and a feral lust-filled look peering back at you.

Marc crashes his lips against yours feverishly, his hands exploring your body wildly but with intent. You rush to remove his remaining clothing, needing to feel his bare body on yours, skin on skin. You hear the soft thump of Marc's clothes hitting the floor alongside your own, allowing you to touch him fully now. Marc wastes no time removing your hand from his cock and lining himself up with your dripping awaiting hole, entering you with no issue, pain, or resistance. Having already prepped you beforehand perfectly. You both gasp as Marc enters you completely, his hips flush with your own. "Fuck baby, you're so tight and wet. Feel so good. Can I move?" He asks breathlessly as he stares directly into your eyes with the most amazing lustful yet loving look you had ever seen.

While biting your lip and staring back, you nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in all ways he wanted to. He sets a slow pace to begin with, just to help you get used to it before he wrecked you, the ever-considerate boyfriend. It was passionate and mind-numbing, the way his cock slowly yet roughly dragged against your walls, his pelvic area rubbing directly on your clit and stimulating you perfectly. The feeling of Marc's hand gripping your face has you bringing your head back so you can look at him properly, that familiarly dark yet seductive look staring back at you. "Open up for me sweetheart," Marc instructed huskily, already knowing you understood and recognised what he was asking of you.

You open your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, trying your best not to close your eyes as he continues to slowly fuck you. "Such a good girl for me, that's it, baby." Marc slowly and gently spits into your mouth, savouring the moment that does not happen often, only when he feels particularly possessive over you. "Swallow." You do as you are told, swallowing his saliva and sticking your tongue back out to show you had. The hand on your face moves up to your mouth and inserts two fingers into your mouth, "suck." He instructs, staring intensely as you wrap your lips around his fingers and begin sucking and licking. You moan loudly as Marc removes his fingers and replaces them on your clit instead, stimulating you as he fucked you.

"Oh fuck Marc!" You gasp, feeling the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach. The constant stimulation from his skin on your clit had already had you pushing to the limit, but his fingers were getting you off faster. "Come for me, baby." He groaned as he sped up both his movements, increasing your breathing tremendously. As quickly as it built, it released, your high hitting you like a train for the second time tonight. You scream in delight as Marc worked you through your high once again, now you were exhausted. Marc gives you a few minutes to recover, spending the time showering you with affection.

Marc takes this time to kiss your lips until they are red and swollen, and even then he did not let up. He littered your neck and shoulders with more marks, claiming your skin once more as his own. As if he were an artist painting his blank canvas with signature markings that told it was his work. Painting your skin in purple, red, and black bruises. When Marc asked if it was okay for him to continue and you agreed, he fucked you into a moaning mess. Each thrust was meticulous and targetted, aiming to provide you with as much pleasure as possible.

Marc's groaning sweaty figure above you was something to be marvelled at, he was truly insatiable and the definition of beauty. You felt utterly grateful and lucky that you were the one that got to call him, Steven, and Jake yours. With each thrust, yours and Marc's moans got louder, both becoming more and more needy for the other. As Marc tucked his head into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his beautifully scarred skin, and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close. You could feel that Marc was close by the way his thrusts got sloppy and slightly stiff.

Marc feels your walls tighten around his cock, "with me." Marc groans, placing his forehead against your own, breathing one another's air. You scream as the knot releases, exploding into multiple surges of pleasured fireworks that runs through your whole body. Marc groans loudly as he also finishes, his come painting the inside of your walls as he fucks you both through your highs. Marc collapses on top of you once you're both done, panting loudly. You lay with your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as your nails gently scratch Marc's bare back. His own fingers playing and tracing patterns on your own skin, often digging in a little now and again. You knew in times like this he just needed to be held and loved until he was ready to move or say something.

"I'm yours, forever and always. Nothing can change that." You whisper into his hair, one hand tangling gently into his damp curly locks and your lips placing a soft prolonged kiss onto the side of his forehead. Marc's arms tightened ever so slightly around your body and digs his head further into your neck, "thank you." He whispers into your sweaty skin, lips attaching to your neck regardless.

#Moon knight #marvel #marc spector #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #smut #fluff #moon boys #moon knight imagine #marc spector moon knight #marvel mcu

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wwinterwitch · 2 years

Text

the giver and the taker

summary: one of your lovers is a complete giver, the other is a huge taker

pairing: fem!reader x steven grant, fem!reader x marc spector

word count: 4k

warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), polyamourus established relationship, kinda sub!steven and dom!marc, dirty talk fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), various kinks (hair pulling, praise, spanking), penetrative sex, gentle then rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms.

note: I don't have DID so please let me know about any harmful/incorrect/inaccurate stereotypes you see. This fic does contain a brief reference about marc being able to see what steven does tho.

read part two here(!)

a reblog and/or comment is always appreciated!

You are somewhat of a workaholic. Even on the weekends, you would be on your computer finishing reports and starting assignments that were supposed to be next week's job. Despite being a very good trait to be responsible, you took it to an extreme.

One night, your boyfriend Steven walked up to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to bed, are you coming too?"

"I'll join you later, maybe. I need to finish this."

"Don't you think you've worked enough today?" he tried again.

"I'll be there in five minutes, I promise."

Steven seemed to give up, letting go of your shoulder as he walked back to your shared bedroom. "If you're not here in five, I'll come back to annoy you!" he said from the other room, making you chuckle.

"Please, don't!" you joked back, hearing no response.

After a couple of minutes passed, you kept your promise and went to your bedroom to find Steven already in bed, reading one of the many books he has laying around the apartment. You sat at the end of the bed to remove your shoes when you heard him move, leaving his book and glasses on the night table and crawling towards you.

"You look tired," he pointed out.

"That's because I am."

Steven sighed, but didn't try to argue with you about how you should maybe try to get a free day from work to actually have time to relax. He'd be lying if he said he's not concerned about the extreme pressure you put yourself under and the incredibly high standard you set when it comes to work. Not because he thinks you can't get to said standard, but because you actually can reach it, meaning you always try to push yourself even harder to an unhealthy level.

Instead of saying something, he moved your hair out of the way so he could leave tiny kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. You completely gave into him, leaning your head to the side to give him more room to kiss wherever he wanted. When you were done removing your shoes, one of your hands moved up to his hair, your fingers interlocking with his messy curls as he continued to kiss you. He gently moves the sleeve of your shirt out of the way to expose more of your skin for him.

Knowing Steven would like it, you gently pulled at his hair in an attempt to encourage him to do more than just kissing. The gesture made the effect you wanted, as he began nibbling on the skin of your neck, making you let out a sigh as you enjoyed his mouth and teeth marking you however he pleased.

"Let me make you feel good tonight," Steven muttered against your skin. "Please."

He stopped what he was doing just for a moment so he could look at you. You moved your head so your eyes could meet his and you immediately noticed how eager he was for you to accept his offer. Steven was that kind of lover. The giver. The kind of guy that would give you each and every star in the universe if you asked him to. He lived for you and you only, ready to do whatever you wanted.

In bed, he was no different. He lives to please you, and would never dare to do anything you didn't like or asked. Sex was all about making you feel good, which inevitably makes him feel good.

You replied to his proposition by leaning closer to kiss him. He allowed you to take full control of the kiss, parting his lips just enough so your tongue could enter his mouth. A soft moan left his body as you devour him, one of your hands still lightly pulling at his hair.

Steven was visibly disappointed when you pulled away from him, but disappointment soon turned into excitement when you stood up from the bed and gently pulled him back so he could lay in bed. You quickly joined him, sitting on top of him with one leg at each side of his body.

When you began taking your shirt off, he quickly sat up. "Can I?"

Of course, you weren't going to say no to that.

Your arms fell to the side and Steven immediately started taking your shirt off. He grabbed the piece of clothing by the very end of it, slowly lifting it up just enough to expose your belly. He looked up at you with puppy-like eyes as his hot tongue licked from your lower belly to the edge of where your bra started. Your back arched and your head flew backwards at the sensation of his mouth once again against your skin, kissing, licking and biting every bit that he wanted.

He finally removed your shirt and his lips moved to the newly exposed skin of your chest, leaving kisses all over the part of your tits that wasn't covered by your bra. When he noticed your hands moved to your back to remove that piece of clothing, he once again looked up at you with innocent, yet disappointed eyes.

"You said I could take your clothes off," he says, sounding almost sad that you dared to lie to him about something that apparently means so much to him.

"I'm sorry," you replied.

Steven moved his hands to your back so he could be the one removing your bra, leaving a quick kiss on your lips as he did. "Always so impatient," he jokes.

Lucky for you, he wasted no time to start kissing your tits. He would put one on his mouth, using his tongue to play with your nipple, while his hand worked on the other, gently massaging it. As he took turns with each one, he never once moved his eyes away from you. What he loved the most is watching you enjoy what he was doing to your body. To see you moan for him. It drove him insane to see what he could do to you with his touch.

At this point you could feel his erection beneath you, so you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth, the friction somehow helping to relieve how painfully unattended your pussy has been. You grind against him slowly, making him move away from your chest, letting out a low grunt that made you increase your speed just enough.

"You like that?" you asked, barely able to hold back a chuckle when you saw him frantically nodding.

"Y-yes..." he was able to say. "A lot. Very much."

Both of his hands moved to your hips to help you keep your balance as you continued to grind against him, increasing your speed. He wasn't intending to rush you or change your rhythm in any way. As for Steven is always about you feeling good, he would never dare change a thing.

The way your tits bounced with each movement of your hips was almost a hypnotizing scene for Steven to admire, and he immediately went back to what he was previously doing. Once again, his eyes focused on you as you enjoyed his mouth on your chest and his still clothed cock against your wet core.

"Fuck- Steven..."

You once again pull at his hair, this time much tighter, guiding his mouth to yours for yet another heated kiss. His hands trailed down your back giving you goosebumps on each part his fingers would travel. As you continued to kiss him, one of his hands made its way inside your joggers and panties. The moment you felt his fingers against your cunt you moaned again, this time the sound muffled almost entirely against Steven's lips.

He moves away from the kiss to be able to watch you as he moves his fingers against you in a painfully slow motion, almost forcing you to move your hips again as you silently pleaded for him to go faster. Instead, he puts his hand out of your pants.

You watch as Steven move his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning them off right in front of you. The fact that this was coming from Steven, your awkward and innocent-looking boyfriend, somehow turned you on even more. Only you were the one that could see this side of him.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, once again looking needy and desperate. "Please?"

His eyes light up in excitement when you got off of his lap to lay your back on the bed. He got on his knees in between your legs and began taking you joggers off. The only item of clothing on you were your panties, and you couldn't wait for Steven to get rid of them too.

Your back arches and a moan unexpectedly escaped your lips the moment you feel his teeth bite the skin of your inner thigh, continuing to kiss and nib all around the larger bite mark while one on his hands went up and down your other thigh, stopping dangerously close to where you needed to feel him the most.

He continued slowly worshiping your body and you swore you were going to explode any second now. Lust and desire clouding your judgment as you watched him.

"Baby," you whimper. "Just– I need you."

Steven looked up at you, doe-eyed. "Tell me what you want and it's all yours."

"Fuck– I need you to fuck me with your mouth."

Once again, he wasted no time to give you exactly what you wanted. He left one last kiss on your thigh before he licked one single strap with his tongue, savoring you still with the underwear in the middle. Just when you were about to protest, Steven removed your panties and threw them to the floor.

The sight in front him was absolute perfection. You, laying in bed with your legs open for him. He could stare at this image for hours if only he wasn't so desperate to do other things. You could see he was enjoying what he was seeing, looking almost like a hungry dog who just got offered its favorite treat. Like a thirty man in the desert who just happened to find an oasis– a true miracle. Like he just obtained the biggest reward.

There's nothing Steven loves more than eating you out. To make you cum over and over until you're a sweaty mess. To hear you scream his name. To hear how good he is and how much he pleases you with his tongue. If he were to choose, he wouldlove to stay in between your legs forever.

Holding both of your legs in place, he started to literally devour your pussy. You let out the loudest moan yet, not expecting him to immediately start at such a fast pace. He drags his mouth against you and he's greedy, and loud, and wet, and all you can do is moan as you completely lose yourself to the feeling of Steven eating you out like his life depends on it.

Steven began teasing your entrance with his tongue for a bit before continuing to lick upwards, starting to suck on your clit before repeating the cycle.

You look down at him and his face is completely buried in between your legs. The sight and the filthy sounds filling the room alone almost made you completely lose it.

Your fingers found their way back to his hair and as soon as you pulled slightly at his hair, he let out a groan that made your entire core vibrate. The reaction made you do it again, much harder now. Steven was loving the feeling of you pulling at his hair with such strength, that he focused his mouth on your clit while on of his fingers entered you without you really expecting it.

"Do you like that, love?" he asked, barely pulling away from you before continuing to suck your clit.

"Yes. Your mouth feel so good...oh, I– I'm going to cum all over your face."

You could practically feel the low grunt coming from him when he heard that. Steven loves the confirmation of your pleasure. The way your moans increase when your about to reach your orgasm, the way you'd pull his hair, to hear you say how good he is for you. He just loves to see and hear every confirmation of the pleasure he's providing you.

"Can you look at me? I want to see your face when you cum."

You did as he asked, meeting Steven's eyes already looking at you. His fingers kept fucking you while his mouth sucked at you clit, and you felt yourself closer and closer to reach your climax with each second that passed. Meanwhile, all you can do is repeat over and over how much of a good boy he is for eating you out so incredibly good.

Your muscles tighten, your vision goes blurry and all you see is white as you reach your orgasm with a loud exclamation of his name. Steven surely knew you came, but that doesn't seem to stop him from continuing his attack on your pussy. His fingers were no longer inside you, but his mouth continued to devour you with an insatiable hunger. Your body is on fire, but he gives you no time to rest before your starting to feel your second orgasm building up at the pit of your stomach.

Sure enough, it didn't take very long berofe you cum again. Hard. He was almost in a trance, watching you squirm, moan and scream out his name. You were already a sweaty and moany mess for him and he loves it.

This time he gave you a few seconds to relax, his tongue occasionally licking up your cunt to test how sensitive you still were. "You're beautiful," he compliments you, kissing one of your thighs again. Right after, he started to climb up your body. "And you taste so good," he adds just mere inches from your face.

You grabbed his face to pull him in for a kiss, savoring your own taste still lingering inside his mouth. He groans against your lips, his hands trailing down your sides to rest on your legs. Just a second after, you felt his fingers once again on your pussy. In the heat of the moment, all you could do was bite Steven's lower lip as you continued to make out.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. "You want me to continue?" You nodded hoplessly before pulling him in for another kiss. Steven gladly returned the kiss, his thumb increasing its speed. "Can you cum for me again? Just one more," he pleaded in a whisper.

"Yes," you replied almost immediately.

"Yeah?" Steven insisted, once again putting his fingers inside of you, a smile appearing on his face when he saw your reaction .

"Mm-hmm," you moaned, desperately wanting him to go faster.

"Is this okay?"

You barely shake your head. "Faster."

He did as instructed, feeling proud of himself when your moans increased at the change of speed. "Like that?"

"Yes, yes– exactly like that...fuck, Steven, you're so good at this...make me feel so good."

Steven continued his rhythm in and out of you, his lips mere inches from yours. He could kiss you, but he'd hate to silence the noises coming out of you with each thrust of his fingers. Instead, he would watch every move you make underneath him, treasure every moan and whimper leaving your lips, getting goosebumps every time you would trace your fingers down his biceps and back.

Soon enough, you reached your third orgasm of the night, holding onto Steven's shoulders as you combusted with pleasure. He smiled down at you, burying his face on your neck to leave tiny kisses all over your skin.

As you were trying to catch your breath, Steven continued kissing your neck, both of his hands resting at your hips. He wouldn't dare to touch you now, allowing you a much needed rest after three orgasms. His touch and lips were gentle, incredibly sweet and loving. Very Steven. However, you could feel his grip on you suddenly tightening, his mouth hungrily attacking your neck. The sudden shift in his behaviour took you by surprise at first, but it didn't take long for you to realize the one on top of you is no longer Steven.

Marc pulled away from your neck to look at you, already aware you probably figured out if was him. You could just tell by looking into his eyes. He is nothing like Steven despite looking the same.

Steven is a devoted, honest and committed type of lover. You have never felt as loved and cherish as you do now that you're dating him. He treats you like you're a miracle that unexpectedly came into his life, still not understanding why a woman as incredible as you settled for a man like him. You are the most precious thing in his life and he does his best to remind you how happy he is to have the chance to love you every single day. It's like he lives to serve you in any way you need. Whatever it is, he's willing to give it to you.

But Marc is the complete opposite. He is a much more demanding, passionate and complicated man. He has managed to bring into your life something you and Steven lacked off: uncertainty. One day he's cuddling with you on the couch watching movies, the next you're helping him pack for yet another undercover mission to some deserted place to do whatever it is Khonshu has ordered, leaving you to wonder when will you see him again.

Marc is the thrill and excitement you can't provide for yourself. He's constantly encouraging you to push your limits and try new things, helping you to forget about the routine and be more spontaneous. Marc is fun, mysterious, exciting, always leaving you to wonder his next move. With Marc it's you the one who does the serving. Trailing after him with any new adventure he comes up with and willing to do whatever it is he wants you to do.

You were lucky enough to have found two lovers so incredibly different that complimented each other so well. Each give you something that you crave and make you fall in love with them over and over. The gentleness and roughness. The stability and the adventure. The honesty and the mystery. One lives to serve and the other to take. Balance.

Marc is staring down at you, his eyes dark and lust-filled and his hands still gripping each side of your hips, keeping you in place underneath him. "Steven had his fun with you already," he says, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "It wasn't fair I had to sit there and watch the two of you, was it?"

"No..." you muttered as a reply.

He grinned just slightly after your answer, standing up so he would be kneeling on the bed in between your legs. "There's so much I want to do to you," he confessed, shamelessly scanning your naked body.

Marc quickly removed his shirt as you admired his exposed torso, his muscle flexing exquisitely in all the right places when he leaned back down to kiss you. He completely devoured your mouth, his hips beginning to rock against yours to give himself some relief, his dick impossibly hard at this point and practically begging to get some attention. Your fingers traced down his muscular arms and firm back before one of your hands trailed down to palm his dick on top of his sweatpants. A low grunt escaped his mouth and he immediately pulled away from you.

"Naughty girl," he teased. "Did I tell you to do that?"

"No," you say out of breath, still touching him. "But I wanted to do it."

"Mmm– you want my dick in your mouth, honey?"

You nodded eagerly at his question. Marc gave you one last kiss before standing up again. You quickly got on your knees and pull his sweatpants down, revealing his painfully neglected erection. Your mouth almost watered at the sight in front of you, not wanting to wait any more seconds to put his dick inside your mouth.

Your head leaned close enough as you looked up at him, your tongue tracing a single strap across the length of his dick, watching as Marc closed his eyes at the sensation of it, letting all the air leave his lungs as he muttered a barely audible, "Fuck."

Encouraged by that reaction, you grabbed his dick with one of your hands and put it inside your mouth, trying your best to cover as much of it as you possibly could every time it went in and out of your mouth. Soon enough you found a comfortable rhythm, helping yourself with your hand to cover the part of him that couldn't fit inside your mouth.

The sounds leaving Marc's mouth were absolute heaven. His brows were slightly frowned as he stared down to watch as you suck him off, his muscles flexed, a hand tightly gripping your hair so it wouldn't get in the way, and his hips thrusting along with your movements as he completely lost himself in pleasure.

"You surely know what to do with that mouth of yours, huh?" he asks, knowing very well you wouldn't be able to reply. "Yeah, you're doing so good, baby."

The compliments only encouraged you to go faster, making Marc let out a louder grunt at the change of speed, gripping your hair even tighter as his hips also thrust harder and faster. He quite literally begin fucking your mouth, making your eyes tear up at the speed and intensity of it all. Of course you wouldn't mind that detail, absolutely adoring to have him in and out of you and hear him enjoy every second of it.

"Holy fuck– if we keep it up like that I won't last long," Marc says, completely out of breath. "Turn around," he instructed shortly after, pulling himself out of you and using his thumb to clean the drool off your chin.

You did as told, putting yourself on all four as you waited for him to take his sweatpants off and throw them to the floor. As you turned to look at him, you saw Marc lick the palm of his hand and press it against your pussy, grinning when he realized how wet you already were before he even touched you. His grin only grew wider when he slapped one of your ass cheeks, hearing you whimper right after.

He grabbed both of your hips and he thrusts inside you without a warning, his entire length filling you up and making you let out a loud moan at the sensation. He immediately begin fucking you mercilessly, carelessly, intensely. His body slamming against you loud and hard, the two of you a moaning and sweaty mess as Marc continued to thrust in and out of you like his entire life depended on it.

At the speed he was going you knew you wouldn't last very long, feeling your orgasm building up at the pit of your stomach. Marc's grunts, the sound of your bodies, the grip on your hips that would definitely leave a mark, the sensation of him filling you up so incredibly good and the fact that he just slapped your ass again was too much for you to bare. You were completely lost in pleasure, enjoying every second of Marc roughly fucking you. Finally, you reached your fourth orgasm with a loud scream of Marc's name. He reached his own orgasm just seconds later, and you could feel him filling you up with his release.

You practically collapsed on the bed, exhausted, trying to catch your breath. As you rolled to lay on your back, you saw Marc moving so he could be laying next to you. He took your hair out of your face, leaving a quick and gentle kiss on your shoulder.

"You're okay?" he asks softly before leaving yet another kiss on your shoulder, looking up at you through his lashes.

"I'm great," you muttered, clearly referring to the four orgasms you just had, making Marc chuckle.

"Good," he replied. "Seems like that's the only way to keep you away from your work."

"I mean, if that's what I get for working too much...you'll end up doing the opposite."

Marc rolled his eyes at you, pulling you closer to his body as he did. You immediately accepted his embrace, resting your heard on his bare chest as he wrapped an arm around you. Neither of you said anything else, and so you started to fall asleep faintly hearing Marc's heartbeat and the sensation of him inhaling and exhaling, accompanied by his fingers tracing patterns along your arm.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #mcu x reader #marvel MCU fic #marc spector fic #steven grant fic #moon knight smut #moon knight fic

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peterthepark · 2 years

Text

each time you fall in love

pairing: marc spector x f!reader, steven grant x f!reader, jake lockley x f!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut, p in v, rough sex, car sex, public-ish sex, unprotected sex, sir kink, dirty talk, thigh-riding, fingering and oral sex, edging, mentions of guns, mentions of blood and wounds, drinking, swearing, established relationship, angst if u squint really hard, 8.4k word count…

summary: you play mercenaries with marc. you play lovers with jake. you play house with steven. you suppose romance comes in all forms of their differing love for you.

note: had a blast writing this, reblogs & shares are more than appreciated :) listened to this song while writing this, so feel free to listen while reading!

- masterlist - mk playlist

June - Mardin, Turkey

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.” Marc quickly glances at you, sweat beading off of the tiny curl that falls flat against the ridge of his brow.

The stinging accumulation of dust and filth in your eyes only adds to the discomfort of your entire aching body — but by all means, you have to admit that the bullet graze to your arm takes the absolute cake.

It’s dark out and the sleepless nights of Mardin are completely unforgiving. The gas lamp above you has been your only light source in the shabby, stone shack for almost a week. Water is starting to run thin, the main city is too far out for this time of night, and Marc isn’t in any condition to make rash decisions.

You wince when he tries to carefully smooth out the gauze around your upper arm. “Still heavy-handed, are we?” You don’t miss how the corners of his mouth shift upwards in a faint smile at the pathetic jab, uncertain if this was a time for laughter rather than reflection.

But even as you try to lighten his grim mood, Marc is distant. Distant because he fucked that job up. Distant because you got caught in the crosshairs of what should’ve been his successful plan, but he ended up failing. If he lost you, what would he have left? An empty shelter, and the hauntings of your flesh against his?

What would Steven think?

Marc helps you sit up from the wooden table cluttered with bandages and tissues of dark blood, careful that you don’t reopen the wound that he so poorly stitched with the sparse medical supplies and whatever knowledge he had retained from his time in Guam. “A couple inches higher and to the right… that bullet would’ve lodged itself in muscle.”

His calloused palms brush over the sides of your neck and wander down to hold your waist.

The notion is enough to make you forget the pain shooting up your bicep and recognize the warm ache of desire deep within your belly when you lock eyes.

It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.

And that’s how it’ll always be.

He gazes at you with a sigh before he pulls away, wiping your blood off of his hands with a dirty towel by a collection of empty beer bottles. You bite your lip at his silence, shoulders tense and jaw tight as thoughts of what-if’s race through his mind.

“Marc.” He shakes his head, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before you realize he’s trembling. “Marc, hey. Come on. Come here.” A blend of a meek grunt and an exhale of relief escapes from his lips before he leans over and presses his face into the crook of your neck, nearly launching himself into your open arms.

Marc smells of cordite and hours of being in the sun. Normally, his scent would have comforted you — musk and eucalyptus, remnants of the melting candle by the kitchen window in Steven’s lived-in flat — but nothing about these circumstances are supposed to be comforting. Nothing about being paid to kill, living the ‘gun for hire’ life is supposed to give you solace. For now, you suppose that his lips on your skin is enough to mend this harsh reality of bloodshed that you’ve been fated to endure together.

He whispers quietly against your jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that. I’m alive. It’s just a surface wound, baby.” You hold him by the face, stroking your thumbs under his eyes as he blinks at you, timid and apologetic. “You did the best you could. Plans always end up sideways with us, you know that.” You rub noses tenderly. “We’ve had worse situations, remember?”

“South Africa contract?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Malaysia, but that too.” You chuckle softly at him, repeatedly tucking his stubborn curls behind his ear as he stares at you. You delicately splay a hand over his cheek, rubbing the blood off his skin with your thumb. “Are we okay?”

Marc inhales deeply after what feels like ages, nodding as the words of affection leave him woefully. “I just really love you.”

“And I love you, you silly man.”

He doesn’t need to say that he’s scared of losing you for you to understand. You can just read him, feel his anxiety seeping into his bones as his fingers dance over your bandages and underneath your weathered shirt. You can read him even with closed eyes, him who stands between your legs, trailing your knuckles against his biceps as if every goosebump on his body would mimic paragraphs of braille, his unspoken declaration of how much he wants you just beneath your touch — how much he longs to bury himself inside you and stay there until the world leaves the lot of you alone before everything burns.

Let it all burn if that means being with you.

You’re already wet by the time Marc is pulling your muddied cargo pants down your legs. He’s rushing this — needy and exaggerating his impatience as if that would quicken things.

You know him well enough to recognize that tonight, he won’t be gentle even if he tries.

Usually Steven is rougher, which comes as a surprise when his personality is the definition of a sunny London day. Submissive doesn’t always equate to being soft, but his temper is warranted. You’d think that Marc would be the one to break your body and push you to your limits, but he has other ways of taking out his anger — Steven doesn’t.

You’ll take a rough Steven over a rough Marc anyday.

Splinters dig against the backs of your thighs as Marc drags you to the edge of the table, drawing a gasp out of you when he harshly yanks your panties down your thighs.

“Easy, tiger.” You look up at him as he pushes your hair away from your face, eyes wandering over how he then expertly unbuckles his belt with steady fingers. He doesn’t break your lustful gaze, lips parting once his pants hang low on his hips and he meets your mouth with his own.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for days, Y/N.” He sighs into you, a string of saliva connecting his wet bottom lip to yours as he cradles your cheek. “And of course, you just had to get fucking shot on the night I wanna be inside you.” You groan shamefully at the violence of his words, placing a hand on the nape of his neck to draw him closer to you. His kisses are far from chaste and borderline unceremonious, teeth clashing against yours as his nose digs into your cheek for better access. “I don’t wanna hurt you…” He trails his tongue down your neck, mouthing at your skin until he’s marked you purple and red. “… but I know that you can take whatever I give you. No matter how much it hurts, right?”

“Mmm, fuck.” You shiver when he nips at your earlobe, tugging on the fleshy texture as he awaits your response. “No matter how much it hurts.”

“Atta girl.” He hums agreeably, taking pleasure in how your mouth tries to chase after him when he steps back to take his shirt off and admire your parted legs. “Look at this pretty, aching cunt.” He chuckles mockingly, tracing the outline of your folds with his fingers. “Hm, looks so tight for me, sweetheart.” You whimper when he gently runs the back of his hand against your folds, the friction of his knuckles just pleasurable enough to make you rut your hips in anguish. “You think we can make my cock fit?”

“S’big. You know it is.” You whisper, tightening your hold on his shoulders. “I think you’d have to — to play with me a little, Marc.”

“Oh, play with you?” You nod. “You mean like… Marc, finger me?” You shift eagerly to nod again, but your actions are cut off when he abruptly scissors his middle and ring finger inside you. “Marc, fuck your hand into me, fuck me until I’m all loose for you? What, Y/N? Just so you can say… Marc, I can’t take it anymore?” You yelp loudly when he grabs your ass, his other hand lazily pumping in and out of you as he collects your slick onto his digits. “How’s this for playing with you?”

“M-Marc… oh, fuck…” You grab onto his wrist, nails digging into his bone as he fingers you faster and deeper. “Wait, please.”

“Oh, honey, I’ve barely touched you and yet you’re drippin’ all over me.” He purrs, craning his head to study you, reading your features for any sign of discomfort. Yet, all he sees is a woman enjoying herself too much. Helpless, you cling to him, back arching as your face finds comfort against his solid chest. You sob, screwing your eyes shut as his fingers pause unforgivably inside your sopping cunt and his thumb draws light circles on your clit. “Who makes you this wet, Y/N?”

“You.”

“Almost right.” He grins through a deep laugh, gently shrugging your head off of his shoulder so that you’re left with no choice but to meet his dominant gaze. Your lip wobbles as you fight the urge to clench around him for some kind of satisfaction. Heat flares up your entire body. Every little bit of movement leaves you wanting more. “Don’t pout. You’re better than that. Come on, sweetheart. Say my name, no one else. Who?”

“You do, sir.”

“See? Not so hard.” You bite back a frustrated groan when his fingers leave you so sudden, the building sensation of an orgasm disappearing as your cunt squeezes around nothingness. “You think you’re ready for me?” Fuck. You rub your thighs together, mourning your ruined high and mewling when his palm finds your cheek with a damp finger prodding against your lips. “Use your words, baby. Look at me when you speak.”

“Want you now.” Your head tilts back when his thumb slips between your lips, muffling your whines. Transfixed, Marc watches your pupils dilate when he drags the digit against your hot tongue. It’s erotic. It’s primal, especially when the gash across your cheekbone starts to trickle with blood again from how much your face is straining. And once more, it’s fucked up. So fucked up, that Marc finds himself turned on at how you can make bruises from being slapped by a gun appear so incredibly sensual. “Need you so fucking bad.”

Marc pulls you in for another kiss, mumbling declarations of desire against your lips as you palm him through his underwear and free his cock from his garments. He grunts against your mouth when you twist your fist around the dark tip of his shaft, harmoniously watching in awe together as he thrusts himself into your hand.

“Been dying to… ugh, fuck…”

A soft giggle escapes you, brushing his curls away from his eyes with your free hand after he suckles a large hickey on your collarbone. “Been dying to fuck?”

He glares at you, unamused.

“Funny.”

“Just repeating what you said— ah!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Marc’s erection against your folds, his cock rubbing over the swollen button of your clit before his leaking head finds your entrance. He repeats the motion until his skin is glistening with your slick. “M-Marc!”

“Marc.” He mimics you teasingly, chuckling deeply when you shoot him a dirty look. “Christ, I’ve just been dying to be inside you. Is that what you wanted to hear, Y/N?” Your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he slowly penetrates you, stretching you out after days of abstinence in sake of your mission. “How badly I’ve wanted to fuck my perfect girl? You see, I wanted to wait till we got home. Make love to you slow and sweet on our bed…” He forces himself to stop once your cunt swallows him all the way to the base of his shaft. You can just feel him pulsing even as your walls flutter tightly around him. “… give it to you so damn good and treat you like the sweetheart you are…”

“Please move. Please. I can’t — I need you, please.”

“But you’ve been makin’ some real questionable choices, Y/N.” You lurch forwards into his chest, so desperate to be fucked by him that you can’t help but sob in frustration and strike your palms against his sweaty skin. “Must need someone to teach you how to follow directions, huh?”

“Marc, please! Just make me… I wanna feel good. I want you to make me feel good.” You whine. The fire in your belly grows as he plants a long kiss to your forehead, your defeated voice accompanying the needy furrow of your brows. “Please.”

“I know, baby. I know. But it just doesn’t make sense to me,” He licks the pads of his fingers, spreading his saliva across his digits before you feel him toying with your clit. An embarrassing cry rips from your throat when he touches you, his cock still hard yet motionless inside you. “Why should I make you feel good when you put me through absolute hell today?”

“Are you… are you seriously bringing this up right now?”

“You’re the one who jumped in front of a gun.”

“Because I was trying to save your life!”

“Which could’ve gotten you killed, you stupid girl.”

The name goes straight to your cunt. And although his tone is far from one with serious intent, the slight twinge of irritation in his ending inflection has you desperately trying to close your legs together in embarrassment as you helplessly cream around him.

The two of you share a look — you, like an animal that had been caught in a trap and him, like a hunter who had finally gotten his hands on his game.

“Marc…”

“Oh, you fuckin’ liked that.”

Your face burns hot with humiliation. “I didn’t, sir… I…”

He pulls out and thrusts into you harshly, sending the table back a few inches with a loud screech across the creaky floor. You nearly double-over and scream with how intense it all feels — his cock, pounding into you slowly yet with such determination to find the deepest pit inside you, to hit that spot over and over again until his name becomes nothing but incoherent syllables strung together.

Your shirt rides up your chest as Marc runs his palm up your abdomen, kneading at your breasts with a new kind of fervor. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, pinching ever so gently before his hand finds the excess of your shirt and pins it to your throat. His grip is tight, meant to allow breathing room, but the way his eyes scour your naked torso is enough to make you lose all sense of oxygen.

“Didn’t know you liked being called stupid,” He hums in amusement.

“You can’t hold that over me.”

“No? Maybe I should just fuck you stupid. You’d like that better, wouldn’t you?” You roll your eyes at him, pulling him in for another kiss before you purposefully clamp down and around his cock again. “Jesus, Y/N… your pussy is — is so fuckin’ tight. G-God…” You bite your lip at him, mouthing at his Adam’s apple as he guides your hips to match his pace. “Ease up, baby. How do you expect me to move when you’re keepin’ me trapped like this?”

You huff, studying the build-up of sweat upon his nose ridge and how the gas lamp above casts pretty shadows over his soft face. You lean over, shifting his dick deeper into your core once your lips find the shell of his ear.

“How about you just shut up and fuck me harder? Unless you want me to get Steven? Or perhaps Jake can make me cum?”

It’s fucked up.

Marc hates to admit that he enjoys this.

With hedonistic satisfaction, you smile at how his jaw flexes in the dim light. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged in the silent minutes you spend staring each other down with devilish eyes.

Before you can even realize what’s happening, Marc is thrusting into you with a kind of animalistic prowl that you’ve only seen in his violence. The honey in his irises has long dissipated, fusing with the starless black sky outside the shack. The wobbly table is practically cracking beneath your weight, and with Marc’s long strokes, you can easily imagine it broken and splintered by tomorrow morning.

“You wanna know why I couldn’t just wait till we got home so I could do this to you?” You shake your head at him, eyes fluttering shut as pins you down onto the wooden surface. You’re bucking beneath his frame shamelessly, grabbing onto his forearm as he presses his palm onto your lower stomach. The sensual warmth in your abdomen is profound. Each of your five senses heighten as Marc’s fingers wander behind your knee, pulling your leg up and over his shoulder so that you're completely exposed to his will when his cock pounds into you. He grunts in dissatisfaction, tongue swiping across his teeth when your dreamy gaze falls upon his cock disappearing into your entrance. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“No, I d-don’t.”

“Couldn’t help myself. I just couldn’t. Not when I’ve been constantly thinkin’ about your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” His thumb finds your clit, soothing the bundle of nerves with steady circles. A wanton moan escapes the both of you when Marc readjusts his angle. “Been imagining how good your tits would look covered in my cum. Can you blame me? Holed up together in this shithole… my mind just keeps on wandering and wandering, baby. I think of the way you smell, the way you push up against me when we’re sleeping together on that tiny cot, the way you — oh, fuck…”

His bitemarks litter your arms, his hot tongue memorizes your mouth, his saliva glistens on your nipples whilst your limbs tangle along the tabletop.

His gold chain dangles into your mouth.

“M-Marc, don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please don’t! Fuck me right there!”

His whispers grow filthier with each passing second and with each scream that’s drawn out of your quivering frame.

“I especially think of the way you look after you’ve just killed someone who tried to hurt you. Makes me want you even more.”

His words should’ve been concerning. Such a complicated sentence, and yet all you can think about is how close you are, so unbelievably close. Your heart is pounding in your ears as Marc’s deep thrusts shift you closer to that realm of ecstasy. He’s moaning loudly into your neck, deep vibrations rattling against your dried, bloodied skin until you can feel his muffled cry of your name into your shoulder. Your legs are trembling in the air, toes curling as Marc buries himself to the hilt and lets his spill coat your walls while you ride out your orgasms together.

You don’t realize that the gauze on your arm is seeping with blood until he pulls away.

His tan skin is stained from your wound, spread across his chest and violently dark-red as if you had experienced more than a simple bullet graze.

It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.

September - Lancashire, England

The autumn air is chilly as you and Jake stumble out of the fancy French doors of the pub. Laughter echoes into the cobblestone streets when he gingerly fits his cabbie cap over your head, hooking your arm with his as you start to lose balance in your stilettos. Jake tightens his coat over your shoulders with a soft tug, pecking your cheek drunkenly with a toothy grin.

“You are so fucking adorable, you know that?” He sweetly inhales the scent of your hair, pulling you closer to his body while carefully watching your footing. “I’m so glad we did this tonight, Y/N. Glad you decided to spend time with me.”

You turn his face towards you and stroke his cheek with wide, assuring eyes. “Hey, I love spending time with you.” His hand finds your lower waist beneath the coat, fingers dancing over the exposed skin of your backless dress. “We really need to do this more often.”

“Yeah, but I mean, with your new job…”

“I’ll make it work.”

“And me needing to consult with the other two idiots...”

“Hey, Steven and Marc don’t mind.”

“Sure. Right.” Jake squeezes your side. He’s quiet for a bit, walking comfortably beside you under the soft glow of street lamps until he decides to just speak his mind. “You know, it amazes me how patient you are with us.”

You chuckle, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth when his eyes trail down the frame of your side profile.

“I love all of you in my own twisted way, I guess.”

Even after all these years, he makes you so nervous. He’s the opposite of Steven Grant, more gloomy than he is sunshine but all the good qualities of Marc Spector that tend to outweigh the bad that follows being Jake Lockley. He is far from brooding, but neither is he exactly approachable.

You don’t question him on the nights he slips out of bed, whispering something about getting a glass of water only for him to disappear for hours on end. Yet somehow, he always arrives just in time to eat breakfast with you as if nothing had happened.

You don’t ask Steven or Marc about it.

You’d rather not know what he does. It wouldn’t matter anyways.

Jake smiles at you as you lower yourself into the passenger seat of his 1972 Skylark; your manicured nails wrap around the roof handle while he closes the door behind you, his hat still snug on your head. Neither of your giddy smiles fade even when Jake comes around to the driver’s side and situates himself behind the steering wheel. In fact, you grow exceptionally more flustered when he leans over the middle seat and pulls you in for what is meant to be an innocent kiss. But the taste of tequila and lime on his lips has you eagerly chasing after him, the stubble on his jaw tickling your chin as your mouths move lovingly in sync inside the dark confines of his car.

It’s only when you need to breathe that Jake pulls away, cupid’s bow tinted orange-red from your makeup as he adores you in the pale moonlight. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Just tonight?” You tease, carding your fingers through his dark curls. You don’t miss the way his enraptured stare lingers upon your features, deep in thought.

He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses each tendon with a soft, adoring moan. “Every night, mi vida.” You chew on your lip again, unable to take your eyes off of Jake when he turns your hand over and starts worshipping the palm of your hand with yearning pecks. “Always so pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” You tenderly swipe your thumb across his eyebrow as he presses your back to the passenger door. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He breathes out, kissing down your neck till he reaches your shoulder and finds the thin strap of your dress with a hearty laugh. “Would it ruin the mood if I said I want you right now?” You shake your head, lashes fluttering when he sensually drags the strap down your arm. “Good. That’s good. You are so irresistible. So gorgeous. So sexy, like my own personal angel.”

“Jake, don’t tease.”

“Not teasing. I just wanna take my time with you.”

“In the car?”

He hums agreeably against your jawline, nipping at your skin with his teeth until you’re sighing against him.

“In the car,” He whispers with a cheeky grin. Jake’s hand travels down your torso as the front of your dress spills over, revealing your naked breasts to him. His eyes flicker up to you for a split second, and you nod before he quickly takes a nipple into his mouth. You press his head closer to your chest, lips parting with a resigned moan when he litters your tits with tiny lovebites. “Don’t hold back, Y/N.”

You stifle another one when his fingers carefully pinch your nipples. “M’not trying to get caught.”

“There’s no one here. Besides, you act as if we haven’t done anything like this before.” Jake palms at your chest, tracing the swell of your breasts as he gauges your silent reaction. He moans when your jaw falls open just a bit, enough for him to see your tongue flatten against the roof of your mouth. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I-I like it.”

“Then let me hear you.” Your hips subconsciously rut upwards from the seat as Jake kisses down your sternum. The flowy skirt of your dress bunches up around your waist, his fist grasping the thin material as he finds your soft stomach and the waistband of your thong. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. This desire to make you feel good… at all times — shit, solecito mío. I could just kiss you for days. So gorgeous.”

You shudder when he suckles at your thighs, his chuckles intermixing with the barely-audible sound of your gasps as he trails his mouth down your leg. His hand wraps around your ankle, stroking your lower calf as he admires the wine-red stiletto on your foot.

“I want you to fuck me when we get home.”

Jake’s hold tightens on your leg, lips staining your soft skin with saliva while he traverses the space between your inner thighs. “And here?” You rest your head back against the cold glass window, shutting your eyes when you can feel his breaths over your needy, throbbing cunt. “What do you want me to do here?”

“Want your mouth on me. And I wanna taste you.”

He smirks playfully. “One thing at a time, yeah?”

“Or we could do both at once.” You gently grasp onto a handful of his locks, pulling his face from below to look up at you. There’s desperation laced in your furrowed brows. Your voice comes out as nothing but an impatient, high-pitched whimper. “Together.”

“You wanna cum together?” He rubs slow, thoughtful circles around your knee.

“Fuck, yes.”

Jake reaches up, picking his cabbie hat off of your head and tossing it into the backseat with hooded eyes. “Get in there then.”

The leather squeaks beneath your heaving, fumbling bodies as Jake lays you onto your back. You’re propped up tightly against the corner, his hands pushing on the backs of your thighs so that your knees are dangling over your head. He mouths at your clothed mound, kissing your cunt over the thin material with a certain devotion that’s only fronted around you.

Part of you feels like you’re being watched — the feeling still lingers despite Jake’s attest to his own lack of Khonshu in your lives.

Do you believe him? That depends. Right now, with his hands pulling your underwear past your ankles, with nimble fingers folding the fabric and stuffing it into his back pocket while his lusted gaze eats away at the visual of your bare pussy, it doesn’t matter. It definitely, definitely doesn’t matter when Jake hacks up saliva from the back of his throat, spitting on your already-wet folds with a somehow classy elegance that makes you forget how filthy this all feels.

It’s not filthy if it’s love, right? You love Marc. You love Steven. You love Jake. None of it feels wrong, but should it?

Fuck, it doesn’t matter.

“God, you’re soaked.” Jake gasps with you as he dips the tip of his finger into your entrance, sliding it in and out slowly as he becomes mesmerized by your body’s response: the immediate arch of your back, the strangled purrs, your breathless appearance as he impatiently adds another digit. “You’re just as tight as the first time I fingered you.”

“Mmm, oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squirm against him, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as his lips suction over your clit. “Jake…”

His body is vibrating with tension. “Love how you’re squeezing my fingers. Keep doin’ that. Bet it feels good doesn’t it, mi vida?”

“It does. Fuck, it does, but I…” You splay your hand over the backrest of the seat, clutching onto the slippery material as your grip on his hair tightens. Almost shamefully, you peer down at him with a contorted look of frustrated pleasure, pupils glazed over. “Jake, baby…”

“Hm?” He glances at you, halting his movements out of, at first, genuine concern when he notices the hitch in your strained voice.

And when he’s met with the cute, bratty pout on your face, he doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck it off of you ruthlessly or give in to whatever meek yet lewd request is sitting on the tip of your tongue.

The whimper that squeaks out of you is enough to send all the blood in his body rushing to his dick.

“I need your mouth,” You sigh wantingly.

Jake can’t keep his stare off of the needy rise and fall of your tits, and he certainly can’t help but admire how hard you’re biting your lip – it’s almost comical, how he’s got you so instantly riled-up, but he understands. He feels it too, in Steven’s and Marc’s desire to front, in his own beating heart and his hard cock, that you need him. Everywhere. Somehow. And even though that hysterical part of Jake wants to deny you of this satisfaction, deny you of his touch, deny you of even talking to him because orgasms last so much longer with a greater and tenser build-up, he just can’t. He’s been kind tonight – tonight, which is all about you, with your new, normal, civilian job and an incoming promotion, tonight with your trusting eyes and your sexy dress that Steven had ended up buying you because he has impeccable taste, tonight with your dreamy sighs and the way you carry your scars from previous tours with Marc with such incomparable beauty that you make violence seem romantic.

So, sure. He’ll give in tonight.

“Come here.”

He reaches for you, surveying how you follow him with no question, clambering onto his lap with loving adherence. Jake strokes the nape of your neck and lets his hands find the small of your back. You stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, a couple minutes, just admiring, basking in the intimacy that is so oftentimes and unfortunately rare with Jake Lockley.

Then, he speaks. “Do you want to sit on my face, solecito mío?”

You make a noise that sounds more animalistic than human.

Maybe it’s a reflection of how Jake makes you feel. But then, you suppose that’s how Marc makes you feel as well. And some nights, Steven, too.

“I do.” You nod. Jake nods back in acknowledgement, brushing your hair back with steady fingertips. His nose nudges against yours as you sigh into his mouth, reveling in your lover’s quiet whispers of sweet nothings. “I want to make you feel good, also.”

“You wanna make me feel good?” He kisses your shoulder, lips ghosting over the old bullet graze on your bicep from that job in Turkey.

He doesn’t want to think about the things you did with Marc – the killings don’t bother him, but the sex does. If anything, it’ll only make Jake angry, only make him want to deny you of himself even though his adoration for you goes deeper than this superficial desire.

“Yeah, fuck, I do.”

“You want me to cum all over that amazing throat of yours? Just dump my cum inside you?”

“Wanna be your cumslut.”

It’s silent until you abruptly giggle at each other, almost because of how bizarrely horny either of you sound right now. It’s out of character for you to be this vocal with him, but Jake has learned a couple things from Marc, and Marc from Steven, which he intends to put to good use.

But even though the words sound utterly ridiculous coming from you, his body thinks otherwise. He’s thrumming with want, and Jake isn’t sure how long he can go without having something warm on his cock. “Again.”

You bat your lashes at him, teasingly through a half-serious chuckle. “Wanna be your cumslut. Want you down my throat, keeping me there, choking me with your dick.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re filthy.”

“Just like you, Jake.”

He practically growls, “Prove it, then. How filthy can you get for me?”

You press down on his clothed chest, watching as he lays flat onto the seat. It’s an uncomfortable position, especially when your elbow rams against the roof as you try to rid yourself of your wrinkled dress. There’s barely any room for your other leg to straddle him, but when you maneuver your sweaty bodies so that your cunt is hovering over his face and his erection is aching to meet your mouth, things start to feel smoother from there on out.

There’s a reason why sixty-nine is his favorite number.

At this point, you don’t even wait to fully take his pants off. His belt is strewn over the front seats, his fly down and greedy cock pulled over the stretchy waistband of his pre-cum ruined boxers.

“You’re so fucking hard…” You coo, glancing at him over your shoulder as he rubs his fingers around your entrance.

He parts your folds, sticking his warm tongue into your cunt while you take the tip of him into your mouth. “F-Fuck, Y/N…” His hips involuntarily thrust into you, and you can’t help but grin around his length before taking him further. His swollen cock pulses in your throat as you lazily bob your head up and down his shaft. “Mmm, fuck, that — that feels good, baby.”

The vibrations of his moans against your pussy has you mewling, humming in pleasure as he sucks at your sensitive clit and the bulb of nose prods against your hole. “J-Jake, honey, your mouth — it’s, oh, keep fucking your tongue into me. Just like that — oh, fuck!” You shudder, and Jake takes advantage of your intense satisfaction to hook his arms tighter around your thighs and pull you deeper against his face. You grind against him, expletives falling from your lips as your juices coat his jaw and chin while he helps rock you back and forth.

“Tastes so good, Y/N. So wet, so sweet, this pussy is just all for me, hm?” He grunts, carefully thrusting into your throat. “Shit, baby. Takin’ this cock so well, too. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You can only respond with whimpering moans as he fucks your mouth, salty tears brimming at your eyes when you can feel the overwhelming sensation of his fullness. “God, Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum.”

And as he makes haste to bring you to the edge, you give the same attention to his cock, using your small fist to twist around the leftover space that your mouth can’t take. Saliva covers your fingers as you gag pornographically around his prick, he’s thicker than he is long, but that doesn’t make taking him any easier.

“Jake, oh — I’m… fuck, I’m right there.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum together?”

“Please, baby.”

He fills your throat with his seed as you attempt to fit all of him into your mouth. Your vision goes fuzzy from the long, tedious seconds without oxygen and the combined feeling of a drawn-out orgasm. Jake has your cunt trapped against his lips, sucking and tugging at your clit while a dreamlike haze washes over the two of you.

The windows are fogged-up. It’s sweaty, the stench of sex lingers, and your numb bodies are far from graceful even as Jake moves to pull you into his arms and caress the back of your head, resting your ear against his chest because he wants you to listen to how fast his heartbeat is right now.

Then, you mention something to him about round two at home. He laughs and kisses you tenderly, convinced that you’ll probably end up falling asleep on the ride back.

Far from graceful.

But nothing else matters when it comes to him.

May - Brighton, England

“What do you call an alligator with a compass?”

You take a bite out of the strawberry pinched between your fingers, squinting through the blinding sun. “What?”

“A… navi-gator.” Steven deadpans, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you glare at him over the top of your half-finished paperback. You can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at him as you try to hide the childish smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh, come on. Seriously, Y/N? That one was so good.”

“You cannot crack me.“ You cross your ankles over each other and place your book down. Sitting up on the red picnic blanket, you rest back on your forearms and gaze at him intently.

He wags his pointer finger. “Ah, ah, I know another one.” Inhaling deeply, he gestures at you. “Did you hear about the crocodile who was unable to mate?”

You stifle a snort, biting your lip as you can feel the laughter bubbling deep within your chest. “I did not, why?”

“He had a reptile dysfunction.” You maintain a neutral face, nodding nonchalantly at Steven’s fifth adorable attempt of a gator joke. “Really? Not even that one?”

“I am as hard as a rock.”

The dark-haired man sputters, clutching his stomach as he laughs loudly. “Are you now?”

“No! Oh, my god. Not like that, Steven!” You playfully swat his thigh with the back of your hand, grinning widely as he rolls over onto his side to look at you. “Listen, I meant—“

“Am I that funny? That my humor ends up seducing you, petal?” He strokes your calf with a bright smile. “Do my jokes turn you on that much?”

“No, they don’t. Not even one bit.” You chew on your bottom lip, watching as Steven’s fingers travel higher and higher till they reach the bottom of your sundress. “Do my jokes turn you on?”

“No, not at all.” His features soften, eyes half-lidded and his golden complexion illuminated by the sunlight in your backyard. “You’re the farthest from funny.”

“Please, I am the funniest person alive.” Your stare flickers down to where his palm spreads itself over your thigh, long and thick digits caressing your skin. “We’ve been married for months and I still think I’m the better joker out of the two of us, Mr. Grant.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Mrs. Grant.” Steven plays along as he reaches into the container of strawberries beside you, wrapping his pink lips around one before he takes a small bite. Your curious eyes never leave his mouth, entranced by how a bead of juice dribbles down his chin as he swallows the fleshy fruit with a quiet moan. Steven notices. He’s not stupid, not as oblivious as people tend to think, and especially not as innocent, because his motions are absolutely purposeful. “Is this turning you on?”

You gulp loudly, feeling summer sweat collect at the nape of your neck as you rub your thighs together. The notion causes your dress to ride up, and Steven keenly catches a glimpse of your lack of panties. You see him falter, jaw clenching visibly and lashes fluttering as you shift closer to him.

You take the other half of the strawberry from his fingers, examining the red delicacy before sensually popping it into your mouth.

“Not at all.”

But it does. It turns you on when Steven reaches over and holds you by the small of your back, arching you and guiding you into his chest as you yearningly nudge noses. It turns you on when he sighs against your lips, shaky and overcome by the need to feel you as if he hadn’t taken you from behind on the kitchen counter just this morning. It turns you on when he presses his mouth to yours, tasting of strawberries and even more strawberries when he finds your tongue in the midst of your heated make-out.

“This doesn’t turn you on?” He sighs brokenly against the divot of your collarbone, squeezing and grasping every soft, untouched part of you that makes you squirm against him.

“No.” You moan breathily, throwing your head back when he takes his time to untie the halter string of your sundress from your neck. You nip at his jaw when he skims a hand over your chest, pulling the thin material down to expose your breasts. “Steven… the neighbors…”

“We have a bloody fence,” He pants out as you reach under his shirt and palm at his soft belly, inching closer to his waistband.

“And we have the tendency to be loud, honey.” You smirk against his neck, kissing down his throat until you’re using your teeth to gently tug on his thin chain. “Who’s to say that they’re not gonna hear?”

“Guess you’ll have to keep me quiet then, hm?” He quips, jaw falling open as you dip your hand into his sweatpants and reach for his erection. “My god, Y/N…”

“You’re not wearing underwear!” You giggle in shock, gasping jokingly and feverishly biting at his earlobe.

Sweatpants and a lack of boxers was always a common thing for Steven, especially when he’d have you at home, all to himself, ready to go anytime for a ten-minute quickie or a lazy blowjob. But something about the thought of him here — having eaten strawberries with you on a picnic blanket, outside and in the yard with the possibility of getting caught, the possibility (which you’ve achieved) of making him hard through his sweats — made his affinity for nudity so much sexier.

“Well, neither are you, petal.”

“So, two people without underwear… alone…” You kiss his face tenderly, ghosting over his lips in a teasing manner that has his body physically chasing after your mouth. “… laying in the yard… kissing, biting…” Steven lets out a long moan when you squeeze your hand around his length. “… touching each other… hm, what ever shall they do?”

He shudders with closed eyes when you help rid him of his sweatpants, haphazardly tossing the grey material to the side. He groans in awe when you spit into your hand, coating his cock with your saliva as you admire his frenzied state.

“Fuck me.”

A yelp escapes you when he suddenly hauls you into his lap. You’re positioned on the tops of his outstretched and naked thighs, his dick just out of reach from your desperate touch. Steven moves quickly and impatiently, marking your exposed breasts and sucking at your nipples with lustful adoration while your dress pools around his indecency.

“I wanna make you cum so hard, Steven.”

“You filthy woman,” He chuckles genuinely at you, palming at the fleshiness of your ass as you rock against his body. You touch him everywhere — his chest, his unruly head of hair, his cheeks and his muscled arms — except for where he craves it the most. But you give into him, eventually. “Oh, I absolutely adore you. I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.” Steven whimpers needily as you start to stroke him slowly, using both of your fists to twist around his shaft while you grind your cunt on his thigh. “Ah, f-fuck… fuck, darling.”

“Steven, your cock is so big.” You tease, studying how his gaze drops to where you jerk him against your warm belly. “You’re just so hot. I can’t wait to get you to the edge…” A devilish smile forms on your lips as he sexily tilts his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his skull in utter bliss as you tease his leaking tip. “… oh, but only for me to stop…” You halt the stroking motions, keeping your hands tight and still around his thickness. “… and take you back to square one.”

“No, please,” He begs, opening his eyes to look at you. You see the fiery need to cum in his glazed-over stare, wild and almost pathetically unhinged as he innocently bounces his thigh beneath you. “Please, let me cum all over you.”

The phrase combined with his actions cause you to moan, mostly out of surprise, but also at how good the friction feels.

Hot skin, his hair tickling you, your slick leaving a wet and embarrassing, sticky patch on him.

“I’ll make you cum if you make me?” You roll your hips back and forth against him. Steven’s grip on your ass tightens, hands spreading you apart as he intentionally presses his thigh up to your pussy. “Do you wanna be inside me right now?”

“God, Y/N, I’ll give you anything you want.” He holds you by the chin, wide pupils admiring you. “Do anything you please, anything that’ll make you feel good…”

You whine when his fingers come down onto your clit, circling the nub while you start to lazily stroke him again. “Anything?”

“Oh, anything. You know that.”

“What if I don’t want you to fuck me?” He presses a kiss to your throat, trying to hold back his orgasm when you put pressure around the head of his cock. “What if I wanted to just — mmm — have your dick in my hands… show you how you make me feel? How you tease me, how you touch me and have me aching for you?” His tongue slips into your rambling mouth, whimpers and grunts escaping your molded bodies as Steven keeps you on his thigh. “How you always make me fucking wait before I can cum?”

“Are you going to e-edge me?” He looks deeply into your eyes, teeth clamping down on his lower lip as you slow your pace. “Is that it? Because I like edging you?”

“Just wanna give you a taste of what it's like, honey.” You use your free hand to brush through his curly locks, fingers getting tangled in his scalp. “Is that okay?”

The pleading words leave him instantly.

“Anything for you.”

The furrow in his brows has you clutching onto him to stop yourself from just sinking down onto his dick. So, instead, you remain straddling his thighs, sitting with each knee swung on either side of him as you wrap two eager hands around his cock and work him until he’s a moaning mess for you again.

“Such a handsome boy. Everytime we make love…” You survey him closely, falling in a sexed-out trance with just how his lips part and how he throws his head back like it’s the first time he’s ever been touched. “… you look so fucking good.”

“I love y-you, Y/N. God — goddamnit,” His nose scrunches up as you jerk him off with longer, but slower motions. Naturally, he’s more sensitive by the tip, which you’re proven right when his stomach ripples visibly, flexing and tensing below you. “Ah, fuck! Fuck, darling. Like that. Oh, just like that. Slow. Slow, please.”

“Falling apart for me already?” You sigh shakily, growing wetter as his pre-cum begins to bead down your knuckles. “No cumming until I say so, Steven.”

“Please. Oh, my god. I can’t — Y/N, I won’t… I don’t think I can bear it.” He hisses, running his hands up and down your hips to distract himself. “Fuck, can I see you?”

“Wha—“

“I want you to take off the dress.” He requests gruffly, before clearing his throat. “Please, petal.”

You nod with a soft smile, caressing his jaw before you’re helping each other rid yourselves of your remaining clothing. Steven’s shirt and your sundress joins his pants by the corner of the blanket. Instantly, his hands fondle your breasts, skimming over the fading hickies and wandering across your abdomen.

“I can feel you pulsating.”

“That is ‘cause you’ve got me rock fucking hard, you know.” He jokes, referring to your words from earlier. “S-shit, Y/N. How much longer?”

“I’m sorry, Steven. No cumming.” You purr at him. “Not yet. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head, yes?”

“I mean, you’re just perfect. This body… fuck, who made you like this? How can someone be so beautiful?” The passion laced in his voice has you reeling, nearly doubling over onto his bare chest. “Baby. Oh, baby. Please! Please, I wanna cum. Oh, I wanna cum for you.”

You moan audibly. “Have you been a good boy?”

“I have.”

“Are you mine?”

You let Steven fuck himself into your fist, digits sticky with mess as he rushes to reach his high. “I’m yours. Are you mine?”

You suppose he’s waited long enough.

“Only if you cum for me, honey.”

And as your hand twists and tugs at his cock, Steven falls apart in your grasp. His whole body twitches, fingers bruising your hips as his cum spills over your palms and coats your skin with his seed. Yet, somehow, in the prolonged haziness of his orgasm, Steven can only spew out declarations of love. He calls you every synonym of beautiful, worships your upright body with his swollen lips as he decorates you with his devotion.

“I am so enamored by you, Y/N.” Steven breathes out, laying back onto the picnic blanket beside you. You tuck your head under his arm, sighing as he shifts you closer towards his naked frame. “You are a gift.”

“And you… are a gift shop-ist. So, I guess we’re meant to be.” You laugh sweetly at each other, gazing into one another’s eyes as you trace hearts over Steven’s sternum. “See what I did there?”

“You are not funny.”

The swelling glimmer of amusement in his irises says otherwise.

Home.

“I love you, too.”

The sky turns pink over your entangled bodies, golden and sunkissed as you draw a path of kisses along Steven’s jawline while he falls into a different kind of bliss.

You love Steven. You love Jake. You love Marc. And while everything else in the world is fucked up and a cherry-colored funk of clustering emotions, you want to believe that nothing else matters but them. Nothing else matters if it feels right, if it feels like home and a warmth that can’t be found with anyone, anywhere else.

Let it all burn if that meant loving them all.

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romanarose · 8 months

Text

Come to Bed, Love

Steven Grant x writer!reader x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley

Masterlist Join my taglis

Summary: Steven gets tired of waiting for his fanfiction writer girlfriend to come to bed.

Warnings: none! so fluffy

A/N: Self indulgent bullshit

Italics is Marc

Bold is Steven

Red is Jake

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

Steven stirred at the scoot of your chair in the next room. He had always been a light sleeper.

What time was it? Steven glanced over to the clock and his eyebrows shot up.

Christ, 3 am?

What's going on, Steven? Marc was suddenly awake and alert, and Steven could feel Jake cofronting too.

It's 3 am and she hasn't come to bed yet.

You went to bed without her?

Not intentionally! I laid down and she said she'd be to bed in a moment and I just fell asleep.

Well go get her, Steven.

He was already on his way, opening the bedroom door to find you typing away on your laptop, curled away on the couch with your favorite throw blanket strung across your lap.

"Darling? What are you still doing up?" He asked, softly appraoching you.

When you looked up, the crappy light of the tableside lamp illuminating harshly off you. He still thought you were beautiful, of course, simply tired.

"Can't." You mumble. "I promised a new chapter weeks ago."

"I think your readers can wait one more day. Come to bed, love."

You pout up at him. "Noooooo! I gotta get this out!"

Steven sat beside you.

Steven, don't sit with her, drag her to bed!

"Which series are you working on? The Last of us or The Star Wars one."

"The Last of Us."

Marc took over fronting. He was not as indulgent as Steven, not when it came to you. You needed rest. You deserved it.

Hey!

Careful not to shut it on your fingers, Marc closed the lap top.

"Steven!" You turn to him, only to realize it was the other love of your life. "Marc! Marc I need to work on this I've been putting it off forever!"

He moved the laptop away from you. "And you can work on it tomorrow, I promise."

"But-"

"Baby." Marc gave you a pointed look. "I know you are a fantastic writer, but at 3 AM and exhausted, you are not putting in your best effort. I think your fans will-"

"They aren't my fans Marcy Marc, they are my readers."

"I think your fans will appreciate you getting some rest and coming back with a fresh eye."

Marc was logical, and looking into his beautiful, pleeding eyes, your were about to give in.

Steven was sweet, Marc was practical, but Jake was impatient.. "That's it." Jake stood up, taking you with him.

"JAKEY!" Squeeling, you cling to your lover as he began to carry to your bedroom.

"Te vienes a la cama, te quste o no."

You can't help but giggle as you are tossed on the bed, Jake pulling the blanket over you. "Fine, but I'm finishing up tomorrow."

"You can do whatever you want tomorrow, just shut the fuck up and go to sleep, mi vida." Jake pulled you in close, cuddling up with you. His arms were wrapped tight around you. You weren't going anywhere.

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

Thank you all! I love you all v much!

Please consider reblogging, it's the only way to spread works! Likes are nice, but don't spread it arond the way it might via tik tok or insta

Good night, and all you fanfic writers better get some good rest!

@fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @k-ra @eyelessfaces @steven-grants-world @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul @runa-falls @missdictatorme @ivystoryweaver

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #fluff #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fluff #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely x you #jake lockly fluff #soft jake lockly #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight fluff

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moonshynecybin · 21 days

Note

what. do you mean. there were orders to dismantle the bikes, take the wheels off. so Marc wouldn't jump on one during physio and ruin his shoulder further.

it really is like. fantasy au where marc gets injured and is laid up for WEEKS in bed sweating and pale and feverish and vale (the KING!!) sends for his personal royal physician to attend to him even though marc is just a lowly guard (the BEST on the battlefield. a vision with a sword, blessed by the gods on a horse) and it’s awful, NOTHING is working, marc is still sick— and vale makes SACRIFICES TO THE GODS and is distracted in meetings and has his most trusted lieutenants (pecco and luca) keep watch and inform him of any changes to marc’s condition… vigil at his bedside at night. sets up a cot in his room.

and marc eventually comes to, fights off the infection... asks if the king is alright FIRST THING upon waking (shades of the braking moment in his documentary…) and then with a smile that is fragile but still too-large, he asks if vale came to see him. and UCCIO is there because vale was called away to settle a grain storage dispute in the south (he is anxiously awaiting hourly ravens as to marc’s health) and UCCIO SAYS NO ! HES BEEN BUSY ! and marc’s smile drops a little. gets more breakable. tired. and the lines on his face (new, the past few weeks) set. and he asks for his sword.

and so when vale comes back marc is basically throwing himself at training dummies (vale only loves me if i’m USEFUL ! marc thinks) and vale FREAKS. remembers how marc got a few years ago after this shoulder injury (where vale had to send for a WITCH HEALER and LIE to marc about the cost). and he basically bans marc from carrying a sword or riding a horse for six months or until entirely healed. which marc does not appreciate ! but it’s not like marc is gonna let anyone ELSE guard vale, so he’s a slightly belligerent smiley shadow for the next few months… tailing after vale in meetings (LEARNING THE ROPES TO BECOME CONSORT. THOUGH HE IS NOT AWARE OF THIS LOL). learning about the political nuances of vale’s job. taxes, troop movements, enemies. COURT DANCES ! attempting to bribe bezz into letting him into the training grounds. getting PHYSICALLY removed from the back of his horse by santi. like everyone has to work reallyyyy hard to keep marc from re-injuring himself and is VERY aware that vale will literally kill then if they let marc do that. but GOD he tries his best

#rubik is a dragon in this au i think.#motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez

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alwritey-aphrodite · 9 months

Note

I would like to request "playing with your partner's hair" with Steven 🥰

I hope you love this one!!

Steven was never one to shy away from physical affection. After assuming he’d be alone his whole life, he thought of every moment of contact as a gift, as something to appreciate with his whole heart. Lucky for him, you gave out physical affection freely, a hug before work and hands held as the two of you stroll around London and cuddles all evening long.

He was in heaven.

The only problem was that he’d never, ever, in a million years, ask for physical affection even though he craves it like oxygen. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure he deserved it, deserved you, so he would accept whatever you wanted to give him with open arms but would never ask for a hug or for you to hold his hand with the fear that as soon as his desires were known, it would all disappear.

Logically, he knew that was insane, that you’d never turn him down in a million years and especially not over something like a cuddle or holding hands, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something in his brain that screamed ‘you don’t deserve nice things’ in a voice that sounds so much like the mother from Marc’s memories.

Tonight, it’s barely past dinner time on a Friday night but you and Steven are already curled up in bed, a documentary on the Loch Ness monster playing in the background. Neither of you are really paying attention, but Steven enjoys the way you giggle whenever the host says something increasingly outlandish about what the Loch Ness monster could really be.

It’s cozy and safe and everything Steven could ever want, except it had been a long, Donna-filled week at work and his head has been killing him since Monday morning. The two of you are already twined together, legs wrapped around each other and your fingers gently tracing nonsensical patterns onto his back. What Steven really wants, though, his for your fingers to gently move through his hair, to help him finally relax after the week he’d just endured.

But what you’re doing feels nice, it’s relaxing, and the thought of asking for more makes Steven feel like he’s going to throw up, his stomach in knots at the mere idea of requesting more from you, who’s so infinitely giving with your kindness and your heart and your touch. Never, ever would he ask for more from you when he already feels like he can never give back to you.

Then, it’s like you can read his mind, can see every single thought play out across his face, and your fingers begin to trail up his neck and settle into his curls. You alternate between gently massaging his head, all the tension in his body evaporating, and running your fingers through his hair, softly separating the curls and watching them spring back into place.

It’s perfect, and everything Steven could ever want, and even though he wasn’t able to ask for it, he’s able to tell you how much he appreciates it, appreciates you. You just brush off his thanks with a kiss to his forehead and an “Anytime,” and he thinks you’re telling the truth. You’d do anything for him, anytime, any place.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #500 follower extravaganza!!

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

coming home

pairing: Marc Spector x reader /Steven Grant

summary: Marc is yet to come home and you're worried

-[main]- [moonkinght]-

_______________________________________

Steven never talks about the stuff about business with Khonshu and what he has to do, Marc is the same way. You know that they're protecting you but you can't help but worry every time he's out there for longer than planned.

Like right now.

Marc promised that he would come back in a week, but he didn't, and it it's been two days without any contact. To say you were worried was an understatement. Usually, when this stuff happened, he would let you know.

It's Monday, 2am he should've been back over 48 hours ago.

Steven is currently on a plane going back home, he doesn't remember much, but with the fact that Marc doesn't remember much either could only mean it was bad. He wanted to call you as soon as he started fronting but being on a plane, with a broken phone was making it impossible.

"they're worried." Marc says and Steven looks at his reflection in the plane window.

"as if I don't know that." Steven whispers not wanting other people to hear him.

"you look like shit."

Steven rolls his eyes and then closes them he's so tired and he genuinely does not remember the last time he slept.

Steven wakes up when the pilot announces that they are landing, he's not sure if he had a bag or not, he does find his passport.

By the time he gets to the front door it's already 6am, that's when Marc decides he'd like to front for this.

He slowly opens the door not wanting to wake you up. Marc is immediately pulled into a hug only seconds after entering the apartment.

"I thought you were dead. Don't ever do this again." you sob into Marc's shoulder.

"I'm sorry baby. I'm really sorry. I'm right here."

"Marc what happened I was so worried. I tried calling you and I tried calling Steven's phone and I couldn't reach you and I- I-" you try to take breath but you can't.

"Breathe baby. I know I'm sorry. I wish I called you but I don't remember anything for the last 3 days neither does Steven. We don't know. And the phones, well." Marc pulls out a set of broken phones that don't even look like they could be fixed.

That's when you notice the bruise on his left cheek and the way he's standing. He's hurt.

You gently lift his hands just to see how bruised knuckles are, there's dried blood on his collar bone, this isn't how usually he comes home. Usually, the suit protects him and there's no blood and he is mostly healed. Whatever happend was really bad.

"Come let's take a shower." you wipe your tears and pull Marc with you to the shower.

Not that there's enough place in the shower for both of you, but you manage. The warm water falls down Marc's body, and you start cleaning him up. He's uncharacteristically quiet, but you don't mind, just worry. When you start washing his hair, you can tell that Steven is about to front, so you give him a second to compose.

"Hey love." Steven says softly, looking into your eyes, he appreciates that Marc wants him to experience you taking care of him too.

"Hi, you okay?" you ask after giving his shoulder a gentle kiss.

"With you my love, always." Steven's words make you chuckle, he's such a sap. He sighs contentedly.

"How's Gus the third?"

"Much better than you." you reply quickly.

Steven laughs and pulls you into a hug.

"I missed you, love." his head buried in your shoulder, holding you as close as possible. You can tell he's tired and you, for a fact, know that he doesn't know when he last slept a full night.

"Thank you." Steven, thanks you, and you shake your head.

"No need to thank me. Just- just please, next time try to call. I know it's not your fault, but I was so scared, Steven." you're holding tightly to his shirt, looking at him.

"I'll do my best, darling, but I can't promise you that." he says sadly and you nodd.

"I love you." Steven tells you and you say it back and lead him to the bed.

It doesn't matter that it's already 8am on a Monday morning neither of you have slept.

You cuddle up, close your head on Steven chest, your hand drawing circles on his other arm that's not holding your waist. It takes you less than five minutes to fall asleep due to exhaustion.

When you wake up, it's already 5pm.

"Morning?" you smile looking up at Marc, you can tell who it is by the way you're held, the placement is always different.

Marc smiles at you, he pulls you up so you're completely on top him his hand making his way under your shirt, scratching your back.

"You know I was scared too. I thought I was going to die and I would've left without saying goodbye."

"Marc.." you sit up straddling him and hold his face.

"You shouldn't have to wait for me, worrying if I'll come back or not. You don't deserve that."

"Marc, I will wait for you as long as you need me to. I'm doing this because I love you. I don't need you to protect me from that. I want you with everything you are."

"No use for me telling you that you're free to leave whenever it gets to much?" Marc wants you to know that if you couldn't take it anymore that you have an out.

"You're not getting rid of me so easily. I'm here to stay as long as you want me."

"Love you."

"Love you more"

_________________________________________

[The End]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#steven grant fluff #steven grant one shot #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #moon knight #marvel imagine

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gadriezmannsgirl · 11 months

Text

Own The Pitch -P.G

Dear anon, I had a little trouble whilst writing, I had the "Publish" thing on and not the "Save draft" thing. So when I went to look for a Pablo pic, I pressed the button to "save" my work and it published 😭☠️ I had to delete it!🥴😭 I hope you see this and tell me what you think of the fic😊 I couldn't help but associate this request with Gender Reveal's world.

ALSO KNOWN AS GENDER REVEAL (5)!

Summary: It's time for Helena to own the pitch

You smiled watching your fourth year old daughter, Helena, run around the whole pitch with her father behind her as she tried to "escape" his ticklish hands, her laughter echoing the Camp Nou stadium as the guys celebrated another El Clásico win 5-1.

"Helena María, watch out, hija" You said watching how she stumbled a little not really paying attention to it but keeping on playing with her dad.

"She's crazy for Pablo"

"And she's also crazy for her uncle Pepi" Pedro laughed nodding

"How's baby?" You smile remembering the get together of three weeks ago

"Great! It's really good, other than a few morning sickness, constant cravings and several mood swings, we're incredible" You smiled discretly putting your hand on top of your non-visible stomach

Baby two was 15 weeks old, your tummy wasn't visible, barely starting to appear and it could be appreciated when you were on bra and panties, something that only Pablo got to see being honest and not always in a sexy way.

"What do you think it'll be?"

"A little angry bird has told me that he, along with all of the team, wants it to be a boy" He laughs "And I would like to be a boy too" You smile taking your hand off your stomach "But I won't mind either if it's a girl"

"As long as it's healthy" You nod smiling

"That's the most important thing"

"Mami, I can kick just like papi!" Helena said coming over to you both, high fiving Pedri and kissing his cheek, before grabbing your hand "Wanna see it?"

You wink to Pedri as he smiled ruffling your hair lightly, and you picked Helena up making your way towards where Pablo was playing with the ball

"Next female football player I heard?" He stopped playing looking at you both with a smile on his face

"Amor, you shouldn't-"

"Let me enjoy it while I can" You cut him off talking about lifting Helena up, he raised his hands lightly

"Papá, vamos a enseñarle a mamá mi tiro" She got out of your hold taking the ball from his dad's feet

"Ready, ladybug?" She nods and kicks the ball a little to hard because it goes straight to Pablo's face but he dodged it easily "Maybe try to not hit it that much, Lena" You laughed at his face

She did several times that shot until Ter Stegen came with a smile

"Nice shot, Lena. Think you can do a goal with me in front?" She looks at her dad

"Can I?" Pablo nods smiling

"It's the same like you play with me at home, ladybug. You think you can score against Ter Stegen?" She looks at you

"It's what you and daddy do all the time, bonita" You say smiling at her and then she nodded

"I think I can" She mumbles playing with her fingers while looking at Ter Stegen

"You think?" She furrowed her eyebrows not sensing the playfulness in Marc's words

"I know I can"

"Then let's do this" He clapped his gloved hands and winked at you both.

"Mami, can you tie my hair, please?" She asked after pushing it back several times only for it to end up on her face again. Pablo and you raised your eyebrows at each other surprised.

"She's tying her hair" You said laughing

"She got that from you" He said as you blushed, whenever you got competitive you pulled your hair up in a bun or ponytail.

"THE MISSY IS TYING HER HAIR UP!" One of the guys yelled "THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS!" You looked over and saw Alejandro Balde, being the owner of the attraction of the lads. Pablo joined and started talking to Helena on how to do shoot the ball into the net besides teaching her how to several times.

He spoke it the little girl's ear acting as if they were playing a real match, with the tapping their mouths with their hands and everything.

The guys were forming a circle and they were still a few of the fans recording the moment.

"Whenever you're ready, ladybug" Pablo said stepping backwards to be next to you, hugging you by the waist as you wrapped yourself against him watching your daughter prepare to shot.

She looked behind you and you both did thumbs up, she smiled and ran to kick the ball.

You knew that little girl had power in her legs whenever she kicked while being inside of you.

The ball flew flying hard at first but then it lost force, meaning Ter Stegen could easily stop her ball. But he didn't.

Instead, he throw himself a bit later, acting as he didn't know where it could go and preparing himself for it, to the floor letting the ball pass underneath his body by centimeters. The ball hit the back of the net and instantly roars were heard in the whole stadium. You and Pablo ran towards your babygirl, congratulating her as the guys cheered and hugged you three

"Helena owns the pitch!" Ansu had yell being followed by Robert, Pedri, Alejandro, Eric, Ferran, Torre, Raphinha and soon everyone was chanting it

"Looks like we've got a potential football player in our lives" Pablo said as you smiled nodding watching Helena in Ter Stegen's shoulders

"I never doubted her kicking skills" Pablo laughed knowing what you meant

"Hopefully this one isn't that hard on you"

"Are you kidding? I've got the feeling if it's a boy it'll be worse than ever" Pablo laughs hard once more shaking his head you felt him kiss your cheek

"I can't wait for Baby to be here with us" Pablo murmured as you hummed leaning into him "I can't wait for this to happen over and over again"

Your eyes locked with Helena's, her happy smile instantly making you smile and heart swell in happiness. You loved your family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

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m00nsbaby · 8 months

Text

Why won't you love me?

Steven x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Mentions of Marc x reader, unrequited love, angst.

Word count. 2.3

Summary.

You say you can't wait and need to make a change, You told me it's so hard to be lonely. Why won't you love me? We're together, all alone tonight, So helpless from the other side, So why won't you love me? Can you tell me why, my love? Can you tell me why?

Steven really can't remember the last time he was happy.

Truly happy.

Last week, he felt joyful when he finally got a book he had been searching for a long time. This week, he watched a documentary about world history that made him smile, but he never went beyond fleeting moments of mild joy.

He knew well that joy and happiness were immensely different things.

And the thing was, Steven Grant not only carried the weight of a life filled with gaps or being Marc's protective cushion for any trauma he had to face; the universe thought it would be funny to add unrequited love to the mix.

"Hey." His stomach fluttered when you looked at him. Under his breath, he played with his sleeves that were longer than his arms.

You smiled back at him.

"Steven." You were resting on his couch after spending the night with Marc. You were wearing his t-shirt, and the neckline was so loose that he could see the marks on your neck.

His stomach churned.

"I don't know why… I thought Marc…" He stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because Marc isn't here."

You laughed, but the furrowed brow in your expression revealed your confusion. Steven was used to people looking at him like that.

As if no one could understand him.

"Steven." The way your name rolled off your tongue stole his breath. "Don't apologize; it's your body too. If anything, forgive me for invading your space."

"I like having you here."

And you didn't say more; you just kept smiling and turned your attention back to the TV.

It wasn't that you didn't have affection for Steven; it was impossible not to love him, but you were aware of his feelings. You knew that if you made a wrong move, he would take it the wrong way. You would never forgive yourself for giving him false hope.

Nevertheless, he thought all night about how you let him sit next to you on the couch to eat his cereal, even allowing your feet to touch his leg.

The bond strengthened gradually, with small gestures that unfortunately never went beyond Steven's eye.

When Marc started to be in charge more often, Steven asked you in an extremely intimate way to take care of Gus now that he found it easier to lose track of time.

"You're the best." His cheeks were flushed when he handed you the chocolates with a name in a language you didn't even recognize.

"Steven, you don't have to thank me." You laughed as your arms wrapped around him for a few seconds. A friendly hug, such an immediate response that receiving a gift and thanking with a big hug seemed like muscle memory to you. "It's nothing."

Not to mention the times you organized his apartment, and more importantly, his books.

The way you cared for him and welcomed him every time your paths crossed always made him feel… important, special. Appreciated, perhaps was the word he was looking for.

Spending time with him was for you like spending time with your boyfriend's younger brother, although your time with Marc was sacred, so your encounters with Steven were very limited.

"Sorry," was the first thing he whispered as he blinked to adjust to the lighting of the place.

You and Marc had taken a nap on the carpet in your room, and your body felt numb, a switch with Steven had probably been triggered by a bad dream. His heart nearly stopped when he felt your fingers intertwined with his.

"Don't apologize, Steven," you repeated for the thousandth time, your eyes still half-closed as you stretched.

You assumed that both of you would go back to sleep when the silence lingered, but it was interrupted a few minutes later by the boy clearing his throat.

"I'm not sleepy."

And you laughed.

"Do you want to play Jenga?"

And in less than 10 minutes, both of you were sitting on the carpet, face to face with the wooden pieces in between.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Have you ever been drunk?" Yes, you had spent the same 10 minutes asking Steven how many of Marc's experiences he had lived firsthand.

There weren't many, to be honest.

"Never." And he pulled out his piece. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you… Do you see yourself with Marc in the future?"

The question made you smile, partly out of tenderness, partly because the idea certainly caught your attention.

"Of course I do, sweetheart." Ouch.

And you pulled out your piece.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Take a shot. Whatever you want." And it was that small action that triggered a horrible butterfly effect for Steven.

The night went well; you could safely say that you played for at least two hours because even though Steven hadn't consumed alcohol, Marc's body was more than accustomed to the delightful burn of the liquid running down his throat.

You continued until both were giggling and flushed from the warmth provided by the whiskey.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Have you kissed anyone before?"

Steven momentarily thought he hadn't heard you correctly.

"Huh?" His heart had done a 360° flip. "No, never."

And maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt disgustingly sorry for him. It wasn't fair that he was living his life this way, through someone else.

He looked at you, expectantly, as if the idea had caused one of those cartoonish lightbulbs to appear and light over your head.

You moved a bit closer to him, and he did the same, his body pushing the Jenga tower until it undid hours of work. Both of you stared at it for a few seconds before returning to what you were doing.

He was the first to close his eyes on instinct, and when he was just millimeters away, you took a moment to analyze his features.

It was fascinating how Steven and Marc looked so different even though they shared the same body. Steven's features appeared relaxed, without Marc's tense jaw or furrowed brow. Your fingers caressed his cheek, and like a puppy seeking affection, he leaned his head into your touch.

One more nudge, and you kissed his lips. Slow, soft, careful to let him set his own pace. The pace of someone who didn't know how to kiss back.

His hand, like muscle memory, went to your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline slowly, and all you could think was that no one had ever been so gentle with you. It was the slight pressure on your neck that made you react and pull away.

You did your best to forget it, but Steven thought about it every night that came after that.

Of course, after that, your relationship changed for the worse, and your encounters became even more limited by your choice.

"I saw it on my way here from work." Steven was offering you a beautiful yellow flower, one of those that seem to be taken from a magazine.

You half-smiled, taking the flower and examining it more closely.

"Thank you, Steven." There was no hug, and there probably wasn't a genuine smile.

You didn't exchange words with him for the rest of the day, but he watched from the headspace as you returned to Marc's arms when he took charge again.

That smile that was never directed at him, and that warm touch he would never feel while in control of the body.

Marc felt a lump in his throat, wondering why he suddenly felt so sentimental, without even imagining that Steven's broken heart was starting to overflow everywhere in a way that he no longer had control over.

Steven never liked being looked at with pity. That's what Marc's expression on the other side of the mirror screamed.

"I can't do anything about it, buddy."

Perhaps the most painful part of accepting his feelings for you was having to deal with the idea that Marc explained to him that it wouldn't bother him at all if he were involved in the relationship, but the problem was that you weren't interested at all.

"I don't understand." His voice choked, and Marc could only feel that pressure in his chest when you don't know how to help someone you care about. "I don't like being alone, Marc."

He finally sobbed, lowering his head and letting the tears freely run down his face.

"You're not alone, Steven."

"You know what I mean." And he did, but it was a topic he didn't even know how to address. It hurt him, but he couldn't force you to reciprocate.

In fact, he didn't even feel comfortable playing the friend who speaks well of you to matchmake. There was no way he wanted to get involved in that way.

"I love her." He whispered, his chest undergoing small contractions from the force of his tears. "I love her, Marc."

"I know." That was all he could say.

And although Marc didn't know how to comfort him, the worst part was when he was alone.

There was nothing that terrified Steven more than being alone, which is curious because most of his memories are of him being alone, except for his weekly calls to his mother.

His fingers brushed against your side of the bed as he wondered if someday he would have the privilege of being the one to wrap his arms around you to sleep. If someday he could feel your warmth closer to him than usual.

Tears never took long to come when he imagined himself in Marc's place.

This time he let them flow without protest, and all he could think was that his body was too emotionally drained to sob, scream, or do anything other than cry and hug his pillow, begging for this nightmare to end.

Would he ever have something that made him happy? Could he ever taste what emotional peace is like?

Although that distant future mattered little to him as his body curled up on the bed, exerting force on his pillow until his arms hurt. His love for you was killing him.

Or maybe, he had invested so much emotionally in you that he didn't realize he wasn't dependent on you. That if he wasn't happy like this, then something as trivial as having you wouldn't give him what he was searching for.

Life always dealt him bad hands; he had realized that a long time ago. But right now, on a Wednesday night, it only confirmed his theory of terrible luck.

Your legs were up on the couch, and the only thing illuminating the dark apartment was the TV light over both of you.

As it turned out, Marc had fallen asleep with his head in your lap. Your right hand had your fingers intertwined with his over his chest; you could comfortably feel it rise and fall with his breathing. Your left hand had been hidden in his curls for quite a while now.

Steven woke up, but he didn't open his eyes when he became aware of the situation, even though it hurt his heart.

Your fingers were so delicate that they gave him shivers, and without letting go of you, he slowly turned so that he was facing the TV. You took it as an insignificant movement; Marc always did it while he slept.

"I love you," you whispered when you felt him relax again. You placed a kiss on his shoulder and returned your attention to the screen.

Steven could only think that he didn't want the night to end. He wanted to stay there for life if that were possible.

In his throat burned the thought that it would be Marc who would wake up in that same position in a few hours, and he was terrified that this might be the most he could get from you, and he was sure that it would happen.

You didn't feel Steven's tears on you; you were too focused on the TV to think about anything other than maybe Marc was relaxed enough to drool on you.

"Can we talk?"

"I'd prefer that we didn't, Steven."

He swallowed hard, and you continued to pour your cup of coffee without looking at him.

"Please, just…"

The cup slammed onto the kitchen counter, and he jumped in surprise when you finally raised your gaze to him.

"No, Steven. There's nothing to talk about." You couldn't bear to listen to him; you had been avoiding it for a long time to avoid dealing with this.

The idea of having to finish breaking his heart made you feel like vomiting, but slowly you were starting to feel cornered by the situation.

"Don't do it, please." Your voice broke when you saw tears fill his eyes. He was trembling, and you didn't know if it was because of the multitude of emotions he had pent up inside him or if he was starting to fear your increasingly agitated reactions.

You didn't want to hurt him, but you had a limit that was slowly breaking.

"I'm not interested, Steven." He remained silent, looking at you with a pout that was probably impossible to resist. "I never was."

Maybe this was what he needed to open his eyes, to understand that you were doing this for his own good.

"I l-love you, I really do." He stammered. He had a whole list of things he wanted to say to you, but his brain simply refused to express itself confidently when he noticed how angry you seemed.

Your eyes were filled with tears now too.

"You don't, Steven." You had to take a breath to keep from shouting. "You don't even know me; we haven't even spent a full day together. Do you understand that?"

He nodded slowly. The slow movement finally allowed tears to flow freely down his face.

"I love Marc."

After those words, both Steven and you stopped hearing each other. You both muttered meaningless things while you hurried to the bedroom to get dressed, with Steven walking behind you trying to convince you.

Not having space for yourself was suffocating you, and you rushed out of the apartment, with the image of Steven, sweet, sweet Steven, crying as if he had suffered the worst loss of his life, etched in your mind.

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 months

Text

To Have & To Hold: Part 10

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Series Masterlist

The past week and a half was a blur to you. Your father sacrificed himself to make sure Harrow couldn't touch you or his empire again. Marc was with you every single day since the death of your father. He tried helping you as much as he could, being there for you, holding you when you cried. Still, he felt absolutely helpless.

The funeral was hard. All of your father's allies came to pay their respects as he was laid to rest. At the estate, Yelena was quick to hand you a drink.

"The family heads are waiting for you in your father's office," she said as she took a sip from her own drink.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "They can't at least give me a day of rest?" Yelena shrugs as she pats your shoulder, "Good luck. Both of you," she nods to Marc and you.

Marc's arm wraps around you and rest on your hip, "We can do this." He kisses your temple and guides you to your father's office.

When you walk in, the low chatter that was going on immediately stops. All eyes are on you. You stare at your father's empty chair and feel like you're doing something wrong, being there without him.

You clear your throat and look around you. You clasp your hands in front of you to prevent fidgeting, "First off, thank you all for being here. I'm," you pause as your words get stuck in your throat, "I'm sure my dad really appreciates it." You run your hands down your black dress, "Um, so I'm assuming this meeting is to discuss the new head of the L/N Family?"

Alexei speaks up, "We're all aware that your father planned to have Spector take over and we all know about your arrangement. However, as respect for you, we just want to make sure this is still what you want."

You haven't thought much about your arrangement with Marc since your father's death. You've been too busy mourning as well as making funeral arrangements to really think about your engagement at all. However, throughout this time, you felt more at peace when he was around. He held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Even when you lashed out at him at the beginning because he didn't talk your father out of his sacrifice, he continued to be there for you. Things drastically changed and now...well, now you can't imagine Marc not being there with you in the future.

You turn to Marc, stepping out of his hold and slipping your hand into his, "Yes," then then turn to the family heads, "I do still intend on marrying Marc and having him take my father's place."

Marc squeezes your hand, "You sure?"

You nod, "I'm sure. There's no one else I trust with my father's organization."

Bucky, from the Barnes Family, speaks up, "I suggest you lovebirds get married soon. Harrow might not have been the only one ballsy enough to pull this shit. The sooner you're married the more serious people will take Spector as the head."

Your shoulder slump. Whether you were marrying Marc or not, you always saw yourself being walked down the aisle with your dad. But he's not here anymore.

Your wedding is straying further and further away than what you dreamt of.

Marc nods at Bucky, "We'll handle it," he glances at you and then back at the group before him, "Well, I think anything else that needs to be discussed can wait until tomorrow. Please enjoy the refreshments and thank you again for coming."

You and he step to the side as the family heads files out of the room. The last to leave was Alexei. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. You let out a little sob and he soothes you.

"There, there, my little sunshine. You'll be okay. You're strong, yes?"

You pull away, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, "I have to ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Will you walk me down the aisle of my wedding?"

Alexei looks at you in surprise, "Me?"

"You're like a second father to me, Lexei. Since my father is no longer here-"

"Of course, I'll do it. It would be an honor." He kisses your forehead and a soft smile.

He then turns to Marc and gives him a stern look, "If I hear a word about you mistreating her-"

"You don't have to worry about that, Alexei."

Alexei nods, "Good." Satisfied, he leave the room and you let out a deep breath.

You face Marc and immediately rest your head against him, "There's so much that needs to be done. How far up should be move the wedding? Did we pick a venue? I can't remember. Then we need to pick catering-"

"Hey, hey. No," Marc steps back, holding your by the shoulders, "Don't worry about that right now," he moves his hands to cup your face, "Go up to your room and rest."

"All I've been doing lately has been resting while you handle everything."

He shrugs, "Isn't this what I signed up for?" You open your mouth to object but he shakes his head, "Don't. Your father made sure I was well prepared for anything and everything that may come up being in this position. I'll handle it all. I just-" he pauses to let out a deep breath, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

You give him a soft smile, "Thank you. I-I know I've been so hot and cold with you since this whole arrangement began but...I really can't see anyone else in this position, at my side, than you."

"That's good to know," he murmurs and he kisses your forehead and then rests his against yours, "Go upstairs and rest," he whispers before pulling away and leaving you in your father's office.

Maybe you should just tell everyone to leave? Steven suggests in Marc's head.

"I can't. I need to show face, mingle with the families and friends."

Y/N needs us, though.

"I just want to give her some space, Steven. Let her have some time alone. She hasn't had much of that lately."

If you're sure.

"I am."

_________________________

When you woke up, it was dark out. You check the time on your phone it reads that it's past midnight. Do you have several notifications and unread messages from people? Yes, but right now you just want to see where Marc is.

You roll out of bed and pull on one of your old hoodies. You call out for Marc in case he might be near by. You were greeted with silence.

You descend the stairs seeing the kitchen light on. It's too late for your family's personal chef to be here so you're sure it's Marc.

When you enter the kitchen, you see Marc. He's sitting at the counter munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a mug of hot tea beside him.

"Marc?"

He looks up, eyes wide as if he'd been caught in a crime. He quickly swallows his food and sets the sandwich onto his plate, "Oh, um, hello," you hear the British accent and immediately know it's Steven.

"Oh. Hi, Steven."

"You alright?" he looks at you with concern.

You sigh, "I will be. I just need time."

He nods in understanding and gestures to the sandwich, "You want one? Or there's leftovers from the caterers. Marc snagged a little bit of everything since he wasn't sure what you'd want to eat later."

"That's thoughtful of him," you say, going to the fridge and seeing several tupperwares packed with food. You pull each one out, setting them on the island counter, "You want me to heat you up some?"

"Oh no, I'm fine with my sandwich. I'm vegan so I couldn't eat a lot of that stuff."

"Ah. Marc never told me that. I'll make sure to get you vegan options. Do you have any preferences of brands or milk alternatives?"

"You don't need to-"

"I want to, Steven. We'll technically be living together too. I want to make sure you have everything you need."

He softly smiles at you, "You're-That's really sweet of you, love."

You nod, also giving him a soft smile, "Of course." You continue to pile a bit of everything onto your plate and heating it up in the microwave.

You two eat in silence, but it wasn't awkward. You're scrolling through your phone while Steven reads a book on Egyptology. You figure that this would be a good time for you to get to know him more.

"Do you enjoy Egyptology?" you ask him. He looks up and you point to his book.

He breaks out into a smile, "I absolutely love it. The history, the literature, the religion. It's all so fascinating. The Pyramid of Khufu at Giza is the largest Egyptian pyramid. It weighs just as much as 16 Empire State buildings!" He says the fact with excitement and you break out into a grin. His excitement is contagious.

"Tell me more."

Steven snorts, "Oh no. If you do, I'll never shut up."

"I don't want you to shut up, Steven." You bring yourself closer to him and Steven's a little taken back by your actions.

"Oh, um, are you sure?" You can tell Steven's hesitant by the way he starts fidgeting with the thermal shirt he's wearing. The sleeves pulled all the way down to cover a majority of his hands.

"I mean, if you want to. I don't want to force you-"

"No, no, no! That's not it. It's just...I tend to ramble on too much and people get annoyed of me."

You place a reassuring hand on Steven's, "I promise that won't happen. Besides, I think it'd be good we get to know each other, right? Since, you know, I'm marrying Marc and you're a part of him."

"But it's late. You're not tired?"

You snort, "I slept for hours, Steven. I think I'll be fine. You?"

"Same."

"Then that settles it," you stand, "We can head to the library. There's a fireplace there and it's very cozy."

"Lead the way, love," Steven says with a big grin and follows you, exuding excitement.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon boys x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #marvel au #mob boss au #mafia au

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phantomspiderr · 1 year

Text

Happy Birthday, Marc

Pairing: Marc Spector x afab!reader & Steven Grant x afab!reader

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: You think birthdays are something important, a chance to celebrate your favourite person, to give them anything they want and make them feel good. And maybe Marc will look forward to his birthday from now on.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ smut bby, unprotected p in v, fingering, a little manhandling, it's fluffy i'm ngl, use of the nicknames baby & sweetheart

a/n: besties i'm ngl i'm exhausted and i've probabaly missed things in order just to post this cause I started writing it like a week ago and just got the urge to finish it. So i'm sorry if i'm missing tags and stuff, let me know if there's things missing. But I hope you like it anyways, love you, appreciate you and now i'm going to sleep

“Marc,” it comes out in a breathy whisper and your lips are pressed back to his skin before you’re even finished drawing out his name. For once, by some miracle, you’d woken up before your boyfriend so it was only right to wake him in the best way you know how. It was also just coincidentally his birthday and you think today should be all about him and things that make him feel good.

Continuing at your slow pace, you place kisses on his cheek, moving down to his jaw and then his neck. If he was awake he’d call you a tease, especially with the way you’re straddling his waist, and definitely for your choice of clothing—or lack thereof. You’d maybe went online and bought yourself a cute, new underwear set and maybe you’d planned to buy it the week before Marc’s birthday. Now, you just have to hope it will be Marc fronting when he wakes, not that you’d complain if it was Steven or Jake.

You call his name again, hoping that will somehow unconsciously pull him to front as you gently tug on the neckline of his tshirt so you can press kisses to his collarbone. Your hands move delicately against his skin too, lightly brushing over his arms or holding his face and they sneak under the hem of his shirt to feel the relaxed muscles there.

“Baby.” This time his body stirs a little, a deep, quiet groan escaping him. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you sit back to admire him. He looks so pretty like this, hair all tousled against the pillow and face completely relaxed, the frown lines that seem like a permanent feature faded with sleep.

Your hands are still resting under his shirt against his stomach, slowly creeping higher before coming back down. His body begins to wriggle every time your featherlight touch runs across his sides and a giggle bubbles in your throat when he half-heartedly swats your hands away. Mercifully you stop your hand's cruel pursuit and go back to pressing tender kisses to his neck. You quietly call out for Marc again between kisses and this time he shifts more, the quiet groans turning more into little whines. The sounds only spur you on more, holding his chin in your hand so you can switch sides. Your ministrations continue until you feel his hands anchor themselves on your hips. He’s pushing you down more into his lap, the contact forcing a whimper out of you.

You keep his face delicately held in your hand and go back to kissing his cheek. His hands start moving up your sides, shivers running up your spine at the movement.

“Well this is some way to wake up,” his voice is groggy and any other time you’d smile and egg him on to talk more until the rough tone faded but it’s not the voice you’d hoped for. You physically deflate, your head briefly sinking into the pillow over his shoulder before you sit up again. Fighting the urge to quietly moan when you accidentally grind against him.

“What’s wrong, love?” The sweet British accent you’d normally swoon for only causes your pout to grow. Upon your withdrawal from him, Steven’s eyes had shot open, the creases between his eyebrows harsh again.

“I was hoping for Marc,” you sound like a spoilt child. You know that’s not how it works, you can’t just request who you want at that moment. And anyway, you love all of the boys equally so it shouldn't matter. Never do you want one of them to feel inferior to the others but the quiet oh that leaves Steven has you panicked you’ve done just that. “No! I didn’t mean I don’t want you, Steven! I want you, trust me. It’s just… it’s silly. I wanted to do something for Marc because it’s his birthday.” Your voice dies out before you even finish. You’re looking everywhere but into his eyes and suddenly you wish you had more clothes on to cover up.

“Oh love,” Steven props himself up on his elbows, fingertips just grazing your knees. “You know how Marc feels about his birthday.”

The more seconds that pass the more silly you feel for trying to do anything.

“I know.” It comes out meekly, your eyes fixed on your hands that pick at the threads of Steven’s old shirt.

“Hey,” suddenly Steven sits up, his hands soothingly cupping your cheeks and your gaze moves straight to his face, “if this is what you do for Marc’s birthday, well then I can’t wait for mine.”

Your face cracks, the sad exterior fading the longer you look at Steven's cheery features. The man seems to have a way of always making things better.

“You know,” his eyes flicker to your lips only for a moment, “just because Marc’s not here doesn’t mean you have to stop.” Steven's rare boldness always surprises you, “it’d be a shame to waste all of this.” He leans back just a little so he can rake his eyes over your body, his hands moving down to your waist and pressing you impossibly closer. It causes you both to let out a satisfying sigh.

“You do have a point…” you let your own eyes trail down his body as your hands slowly pull up the hem of his shirt, exposing more of him. You quickly grow impatient with your own actions, tugging his shirt up and instinctively Steven raises his arms so you can pull it off. You’re both moving in the second his shirt is off, lips crashing against one another in a hasty, messy kiss. You’re sinking further into his hold as his hands grip onto you for dear life. It’s completely impulsive when you grind yourself down in his lap. It clearly takes Steven by surprise because his head falls back and a low grunt escapes him. You do it again, this time placing a kiss on his jaw and he holds you down, one of his arms wrapped securely around you. He’s back to looking at you and already he’s wrecked, panting, and disheveled. Still, even in his tight grip you manage to roll your hips, the friction feels so good and you crave more of it.

“Right, as pretty as this is, take it off now.” He snaps the elastic of your underwear causing you to squeal and jerk in his lap again. It’s ungracious and desperate the way you climb out of his lap and tug your underwear down your legs. It seems Steven’s just as desperate as he awkwardly pulls off the sweatpants he’d slept in until he’s completely naked.

Steven looks into your eyes with pure adoration, his hands touching your thighs delicately as you settle back in his lap. You sit back on his thighs and Steven’s hands curl around to rub your back. He even blushes and has to look away when you hold his face and smile at him, a glimpse at the sweet Steven you’re used to. His head rests on your collarbone and automatically your hand slips around into his hair, gently combing through the wild curls. The soft moment has you relaxing in his hold so much so your body flinches when Steven’s hand unexpectedly grazes the inside of your thigh. Then he has you gasping in seconds, his fingers running through your soaked folds. His movements have your body rising, almost like it’s trying to get away from his touch. The hand in his hair tightens, especially as he begins to circle your clit, and your other hand grips his shoulder so much your fingers ache. The stimulation is enough to have you breathily moaning already then he’s raising his head to look at you with that dopey grin before he pushes two fingers into you, causing your jaw to drop. There’s a welcome sting before your senses are steeped in pleasure. Steven’s fingers build a pace slowly, his thumb now brushing against your clit each time he sinks into you.

Steven looks at you like you’re the pyramids like you’re some unexplained wonder in the world that very few people get to experience. The eye contact becomes too intense that you have to close your eyes and your head instinctively rolls back. You allow the pleasure to consume you, your hips now grinding against his hand and whimpers of his name filling the room. You’re so lost in the growing feeling of your climax creeping closer that you don’t hear him speak, let alone hear the change in accent or the way his grips got a little tighter. It’s only when you feel a sharp bite to the top of one of your breasts that your head snaps back down with a yelp.

“Look at me.” That thick Chicago accent is prominent in your ears now. “Keep your eyes right here, sweetheart,” and he smirks when you dumbly nod your head.

“Marc.” You’re panting now as he moves a little faster and rougher than Steven had. It’s his turn to be impatient, he’s trying desperately to use speed and more force to pull your orgasm out of you quicker. It takes a second for your body to adjust to the change but then you’re crying out for him, begging him to keep going. Your hand's can't stay still, they keep moving to touch him anywhere; his shoulders, his back, his neck, and then they finally rest on his face. Your fingers dig into his cheek and his jaw and you keep your eyes on him like you were told.

“That’s it,” he hits the perfect spot that has you squeezing around his fingers, “just a little more baby.” Marc keeps his speed steady now, using his arm that's wrapped around you to assist in grinding your hips. Your head’s spinning now, your heart thudding in your chest and you can’t think straight. Now, you’re kissing him or at least trying to between cries of pleasure. Marc chuckles as you gasp and clutch onto his shoulders when he ceases movement of his fingers. He continues to rock your hips and instead moves his thumb faster against your clit. Your forehead is pressed against his, your eyes are screwed shut and you’re climbing higher until you’re plummeting off the edge.

“Couldn’t miss this,” Marc’s taking advantage of your hazy state, nuzzling himself into your neck, “gods I can’t wait baby. I need you now.”

Your mind is still somewhere in the clouds, not really comprehending what he’s saying but you’re nodding. You trust him enough to let him do anything to you.

Marc’s moving eagerly, his soaked fingers slip out of you which causes a whimper to escape you. You’re pretty much a dead weight, your body feeling too heavy to move but that doesn’t stop Marc. He moves you like you weigh nothing and you let him manhandle you, flipping you over onto your back so he can be on top.

“I love you so much, baby.” You’re smiling up at him when he says it, head still all floaty. He looks so ethereal like this, his eyes focused on his hand that’s now stroking himself. His toned chest heaving quicker now. “So lucky to have you,” his free hand pushes one of your thighs down, exposing you more to him. Normally you’d hate being this exposed, you’d want to cover up and hide yourself away but Marc looks at you like you’re it. You’re everything he’s ever wanted or needed like he would physically wither away without you.

It’s different from the way Steven looks at you, everything about Steven is gentle and soft but Marc’s more meticulous and complex. Marc’s gazes say more than he thinks he can articulate, his eyes always full of love whenever he looks at you. Only in truly intimate moments like this does he let his guard down enough to be able to share all those feelings that swim around in his head.

“Need you, baby.” Your eyes fall shut when he drags the tip of his cock through your folds, quiet whimpers flowing past your lips as he slowly pushes himself in. Your hands loosely cling to the sheets and unconsciously you’re bearing down your hips toward him, unexpectedly forcing him deeper. Marc’s hand slams down on the mattress next to you, a curse sharply coming out of him. You open your droopy eyes to see he’s closer now, leaning over you completely with his furrowed brow and tense features. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, Marc seems to have this power to make you feel fuzzy no matter what.

“Hey,” you’re blinking up at him the second you hear his voice, “look at me.”

It’s not a command like the last time he said it, no, it’s more like a plea. He wants you to look at him like he’s the only person to ever exist, or that he’s the best person to exist and you do. You look at him as if it’s the last time you could lay your eyes on him, soaking up every detail and trying to portray all of the love you feel for him.

Your hand moves up to hold his face again, the other finding purchase on his side. You raise your head just enough so you can kiss him, it’s only brief but a smile creeps across his face. Marc lowers himself to rest on his elbow so he can kiss you again, over and over while he slowly starts to rock his hips. The gentle pecks quickly turn fervent as his thrusts pick up their pace. He’s not going too fast but it’s consistent and deliberate. His free hand lovingly rubs the outside of your thigh that’s crept up to encase his hips.

You can feel the familiar tightening warmth already blooming again. The hand that was cupping his face moves into his hair. The messy curls slip through your fingers as you pull him impossibly closer.

“I-I need-ah-I love-“ you can’t even form a coherent sentence. You want to tell him that you need him, that you love him, that he is truly all you’ll ever want. You’d planned all these things you wanted to say to him, how exactly you wanted to pour out all the good things he makes you feel. You wanted to make him feel loved, to maybe replace some of those bad memories he holds with new happy ones. You were supposed to be the one making him feel good and here you are an intelligible mess because of how well he’s treating you.

“I know-I know, baby.” He’s breathing so hard, panting from exertion. The hand that’s resting on your thigh holds on a little firmer, a sign he’s found a rhythm that works for him. Marc kisses you again, it’s surprisingly tender for the situation you’re currently in. It is however cut off quickly when he lets up the prettiest sound. His forehead thuds against your shoulder, a mixture of moans and grunts freely falling past his lips. It drives you insane in the best way possible, you think maybe you could get off on that sound alone.

“Hey-hey, look at me. Look at me.” You’re almost whispering, practically sounding like you’re begging. You tap your fingers against his head to grab his attention more. He’s a sight to be seen when he lifts his head, half-lidded eyes and lips parted and heaving in air. Loose curls flopped against his forehead and the crease between his eyebrows is so prominent now. You don’t care about anything other than the way he looks right now. You don’t care how many times you get to see him like this, you want to memorise every single time.

Marc stutters on his words, his mind clearly just as muddled as yours. You can tell his body is tiring despite his hips moving faster as he chases his climax. Your body feels frozen pressed against his, you can only cling onto him. You squeak out his name as the hand on your thigh tightens, almost certain there’ll be fingerprints imprinted there for the rest of the week.

Suddenly, he’s mumbling out the sweet nicknames he calls you, his face screwing up even as he fights to keep his eyes on you. Then it’s sweeping him under, his energy spikes and he thrusts a little harder. His orgasm washes over him completely, you catch his eyes slightly rolling back as they close before his head falls back against your shoulder again. His hips keep moving as he cums, slowing the longer he goes until he just stops moving completely. Your hand moves out of his hair to soothingly rub his back as he comes down from his high. You can feel his breath panting against your collarbone, his chest heaving still. You turn your head so you can press a kiss into his hair, whispering words of love into the dark curls.

“I’m sorry.” Your face instantly scrunches when you hear the apology, waiting to hear the reason why. “I couldn’t miss this. I needed you so bad.” You laugh once before pausing and doing it again until you’re full-on giggling. Marc lifts his head with that same furrow of his brows for a different reason this time. “What?”

“This was for you,” his eyebrow cocks up a bit at that. His eyes just briefly glancing down at your chest, still covered in the nice-looking lingerie. Your hand slips back to hold his cheek again, your thumb rubbing back and forth lovingly as you look up at him. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday. I know it’s silly and we don’t-“

“Oh we’re doing this every year now,” Marc’s smirking at you now and the insecurity is flushed out of you, “however you’re gonna have to make it up to Steven.”

“Me?!”

“Poor guy’s a mess, you can’t just leave him in that state sweetheart.” He laughs when you begin protesting that it’s not your fault. Marc’s chuckles die out as he looks down at you smiling up at him. Your heart thumps in your chest still when he looks at you. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together they all still have a way of making you feel giddy with just one look. You push up unexpectedly to kiss him briefly, your head falling back against the pillows so you can look at him again.

“Happy birthday, Marc.”

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