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virtualvault · 5 months

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What Good Girls Get

Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly

Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.

Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!

"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.

"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.

It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.

That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.

Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.

"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.

"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."

"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.

" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.

"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.

"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.

"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.

"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.

"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.

"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.

Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.

“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.

“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.

“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.

“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.

"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.

"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.

Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.

He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.

Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.

You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.

“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.

As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.

He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.

As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.

He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.

“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.

“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”

“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.

“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.

Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.

She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.

She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.

Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.

“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.

“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.

“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.

Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."

She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.

After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.

With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.

Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.

“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”

He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.

“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.

Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.

When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.

“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”

“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.

She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.

Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.

"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.

You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.

#moon knight #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley

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ohlovxr · 1 year

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the one where he fucks you in the kitchen

masterlist | series masterlist

He hasn’t fronted much since Marc and Layla met you. He’s left it all to Marc. After all, he’s the one who saw you first. He’s the one married to Layla, and the efforts made to have you were executed by the both of them. They were a team, and he simply wasn’t a part of it.

He hasn’t let Steven front at all, as a matter of fact. The poor guy’s riddled with guilt and might just say something he shouldn’t. It’s too risky.

He was just a bystander, not that he really minded, but that didn’t mean he felt nothing. He saw you, lived with you, nearly as much as Marc did. He fell in love with you just as Marc did.

He bided his time; he waited for the right moment to have you for just a little while, if not only a few minutes. He just wants to feel you. To have you feel the love he holds for you.

Jake decides the perfect time to front was the middle of night. When the bed shifts slightly, the woman sliding off of it trying to be as quiet as possible, and the soft patter of bare feet across the wooden floors could be heard heading out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

He follows after a few moments, careful not to wake Layla, and is greeted by the sight of your back turned to him when he enters the kitchen. A little light underneath a cabinet dimly lit up a portion of the space.

He clears his throat.

Startled, you jump and turn around. One hand is holding a glass of water and the other comes up to press against your chest. A sleepy smile graces your face when you realize who it is. “Marc, you scared me.”

His mouth twists a little with dissatisfaction, but he lets it drop quickly. He doesn’t imagine there’s any way you’ll be calling him Jake anytime soon.

You saw it anyway. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“No,” this was the first time he’s spoken to you himself. If Marc knew what he was up to, he wasn’t letting himself be known just yet. “No, honey, you didn’t. I just,” he takes a breath, “couldn’t sleep.”

Your brows furrow, concern paints across your face.

His sweet girl, always the worrier. Jake hums, stepping towards you, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

He manages to corner you against the counter. One hand comes up to press between your brows to smooth away the tension. You giggle at the playful gesture before he says, “stop worrying,” with a hint of a smile. He brings his other hand up to cup over the small bump of your stomach. “How are you?”

You reach back to place your cup onto the counter then bring the same hand up to cup his face. You smile up at him and he knows then that seeing you from a mirror is nothing compared to this. “Stop that.”

It earns you a huffed laugh from him.

“We’re fine.” You nod your head towards the glass of water. “Just thirsty.”

Both his hands slide down to knead at your thighs and both your hands slide up to hold onto his shoulders. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Jake shrugs before easily lifting you by your thighs and setting you down onto the counter, a soft gasp leaving your lips in the process. He ghosts his lips over yours. “No reason. I just couldn’t.”

A little hmph comes from the back of your throat when he presses closer to you and the sudden feel of him, half-hard, is against you. “I dunno. I think I’m feeling the reason right now.”

With a teasing pinch to your thigh and click of his tongue, he mumbles, practically against your lips with how close he’s gotten, “stop being cheeky,” before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and drags you into a kiss. One that’s long and messy and expands into multiple because of how neither of you seem to be able to pull away.

His hand comes to push the shirt you wore, Marc’s, up before pushing your panties to the side. You moan needingly into his lips when he slips his finger into you and presses up. He can feel how wet you are, still full with some of Marc’s cum from when he had taken you over the couch just before you’d gone to bed.

Thinking back to it makes his cock jump against you in its confines. You’d gotten so wet for Marc so easily. He’d gotten as far as rubbing your swollen clit through your panties before you were begging for his cock. Before you were insisting that you were and could take him just like that.

Jake had never wanted to take over so bad. To tell you how perfect you are when Marc eased his cock into your sopping hole and you’d taken him in like your body was made just for him. To be the one cupping the bump of your belly where his baby grew as he fucked into you in a way that brought pleasured tears to your eyes. To be the one you looked back at with the most love and adoration in your eyes.

He presses another finger into you, curling them both upwards to prod at your spongy g-spot. You whine, finally pulling your lips away to speak hushedly, “C’mon, Marc, you know I can take it.”

Jake groans and presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close.

You persist, the hands on his shoulders tightening their grip. “Please.”

It’s all he needs to open his eyes and see yours staring so desperately up at him before he’s pulling his fingers out of you to pull his pants down and letting his cock spring free. Greedily, you bring one hand down to guide him to your entrance, rubbing his tip over your already dripping cunt.

He coos to you as he pushes one thigh back gently to get you open to him. “Easy, mi amor. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even with that, you’re easing him into you and tugging at his shoulder impatiently, wordlessly telling him, “come on, move!”

You’re so distracted that you cease to notice the new term of endearment slipping from his lips.

He has to drown his moan against your lips once he’s fully seated inside you. What he watched didn’t even begin to compare to how you’re making him feel. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, bringing him so close that he could feel your heart beating through your chest and into his, your legs clinging to his waist and trying to pull him further into you. Your pussy flutters around his cock and makes him twitch as he rests in there for a moment, letting your walls mold to his shape while he kisses you.

When he starts thrusting, he doesn’t bother pulling out much at all. His cock hits parts deep inside of you that have you clenching around him and gasping into his mouth. He does it enough that your slick starts dripping down the base of his cock and to his balls.

His hands support your back as he pulls you to the edge of the table, getting his tip to start poking at a different angle.

It must’ve been the one Marc had fucked into, the one that brought you to tears and that the man had abused until you were surely sore and swollen, because a broken noise escapes you the second he hits it.

A little panic ran through him.

“Shh,” he murmurs with his lips against your forehead, bringing a hand up smooth over the back of your head, “It’s okay, honey, I know.”

Jake wasn’t scared of many things, but there would be Hell to pay if Layla wakes up and finds him doing this to you instead of her husband.

You whine, looking up at him with teary eyes and pupils blown wide with pleasure, your legs locking even tighter around him. “O-Oh, my-”

“That’s it, huh?” He breathes a laugh, licking his lips as he watches your eyes roll back and letting his thrusts get a little harder. “That’s where you need it, princesa, I know.”

It only takes a couple more thrusts before you’re falling apart around him, melting into his arms as your pussy flutters and squeezes his cock, urging him to spill into you.

He follows you quickly, spurting cum deep into your womb.

He’d say he hopes it takes, but he’s lucky enough to already have you getting so pretty and round with his baby.

#jake lockley x reader #notsfw #tw manipulation #tw dubcon #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #dark fic #just being neighbourly #moon knight neighbourhood au

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moonlight-prose · 2 years

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♱ BELONG TO YOU ♱

a/n: this was a fic on it's own that had been sitting unfinished in my wips folder for months. but i'm shoving it into kinktober, because it is filthy as fuck. enjoy!

day twelve - threesome + body worship | kinktober 2022

summary: a never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: marc spector x f!reader x layla el-faouly

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, threesome, body worship, cum eating, fingering, my horrible attempt at dirty talk.

He looked pretty. That’s all you could remember in this situation, his question of what you thought about him when you first saw him now muddled in your mind. His hands ran down your sides, dragging you into his lap slowly and you did your best to give him an answer. What did you think about him? There were too many words to describe such a situation at a time like this. Fuck, you could barely even tell him what you wanted him to do next.

“C’mon tell me,” he cooed, head tilted back against the couch as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I—”

The words caught in your throat when a second pair of hands trailed up your back. Their touch, lighter than his and yet still prominent enough to drive you just as crazy…if not more. You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know she was smiling. Her eyes alight with mischief as she caught his gaze. They knew the effect they had and still they did this on purpose either way—drew you taut with pleasure through only their so-called innocent touches.

“What did you think of me baby?” she asked—voice barely above a whisper. It had the hair on the back of your neck standing up, eyes fluttering shut as she kissed the juncture of where your neck and shoulder met.

You whined when she pulled away, desperate to have her remain right where she was. “Please…”

He tutted, hand reaching up to wrap lightly around your throat and tilt your head to face him. “You know how to get what you want.”

The words died in the back of your throat. You wanted to shout them, tell them the truth to finally have their touch remain in the places that you needed, but you could barely form a sentence. Layla’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear, her breath washing across your cheek, sending a shudder down your spine. They were doing this on purpose. Breaking you slowly with every caress, every whispered word, because they wanted you as much as you needed them.

“I remember you telling me he was pretty,” she breathed, eyes flashing to Marc’s over your shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded quickly, choking on your stuttered breath when his hips jolted up into yours. He’d placed you on his lap in such a way that your cunt now pressed directly against the bulge in his pants. They would drag this out until you were past the point of begging—half mad with built up pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to function without their help. In a way it made you want to remain silent even more.

“You’ve gotta speak up,” Marc said. “I know you want to.”

Whimpering, you shifted in his lap, breath stuttering when Layla’s fingers began unbuttoning your top. There was no doubt in your mind that they owned you completely. That you’d die for them if asked, because you couldn’t imagine living your life without them being a part of it. The road to get here was a long one; filled with enough twists and turns to leave you dizzy.

Yet this…their touch, their love, it was all you dreamed about and more.

“C’mon baby.” His voice had turned dark, an edge to it you’d only heard when he was in the midst of a fight.

You supposed this was a fight in itself.

“Be good for us,” Layla breathed, lips ghosting along your shoulder as she stripped the shirt from your body—chills spreading rapidly down your spine with a mere brush of her breath against your skin. She knew the effect she held over your body—your being—and right now she was wielding it to her strength.

Molding you to her hands, her wants and desires. Just as Marc was doing.

“He was—oh—” Her hands dipped lower, opening the button of your pants with ease, fingers trailing along the waistband.

Marc’s hand still remained around your throat—a grin spreading across his lips as he watched you shudder with every stroke of Layla’s touch. He’d told you before that there was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing you like this. Fully pliant in their holds—nothing occupying your mind except them.

“I was what?” he asked softly, his other hand curving around your hip.

“You were pretty,” you gasped, head falling back against Layla’s shoulder as her fingers dipped into your already soaked underwear.

“Oh baby,” she cooed. You could feel her smile press against your cheek. “Is this all for us?”

Nodding, you rocked your hips forward, desperate for her touch to press even further along your cunt. She did as you wished. Spread your slick up to your clit and circling it lightly until you were shaking in her hold, chest heaving. Marc made quick work of your bra with one hand, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.

You dug your hand into his hair, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he laved his tongue over the peaked bud, tugging on it lightly with his teeth to elicit another strained sound from you. They were ruthless in their suppleness. Both exacting their pleasure on your body to drag you right where they wanted you. A never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

“So beautiful like this,” Layla murmured, biting along your jaw, her fingers speeding up along your clit and drawing sounds from you that made her head spin. “Sitting on Marc’s lap like a goddess.”

He growled against your breast, biting into the side of it with an edge that made you jolt. He knew you liked a taste of pain with your pleasure—something he found he rather sided with as well. Nothing too hard, never enough to rip you out of the daze they put you in, but perfect enough to heighten in. The tighter grip you had on his hair told him how you reacted—his lips curving into a smile.

“You’ve got a perfect body.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your neck soothingly. “You fit our hands like you were fucking made for us.”

Layla hummed in agreement, her lips pressing against yours and guiding you into a kiss that left you gasping for breath. Their praise brought you into a new kind of high—sending your body into overdrive. It was their way of driving you insane, of reminding you who loved you at the end of the day. Who was there to protect you and keep you safe.

You never felt more at ease—more at home—than when you were in their arms.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” she whispered.

“Me first,” Marc retorted, sliding his tongue into your mouth with practiced ease. He kissed you as if he was finally breathing for the first time in ages. As if you were the only source of oxygen for the both of them.

“She’s close,” Layla said; the audible squelch of her fingers on your cunt now mixed with your panted breaths, your eyes barely open as they took what they wanted from you.

He groaned, grinding his hips up into yours and pressing Layla’s fingers even harder against your clit. That was all you needed to go tumbling off the edge with their names on your lips. She turned your head with her other hand and caught your lips in a sloppy kiss of teeth and tongue. You felt her hand fall to lay over Marc’s that still remained on your neck—both of them reminding you that you were theirs. No one else could have you, no one could take you.

Your mind whited out as pleasure shattered across your body, until the only thought in your head was of them.

“That’s it,” Marc encouraged you, his teeth digging into your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. “So perfect for both of us.”

“Our love,” Layla breathed, ceasing her movements when your hand shot down, gripping her wrist.

You barely opened your eyes long enough to see Marc lift her fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. It caused heat to curl low in your stomach, a feeling of need building up with every passing second you watched him lick her fingers clean. You wanted them again, wanted to be the one who tore pleasure from their body just as they did to you. Marc’s heated eyes met yours, a grin curving on his lips. He’d gotten a taste of the thing he craved most and now he wanted to drown in it—in you.

You’d have them both by the end of the night. This you knew for sure.

#marc spector x f!reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly smut #moon knight #kinktober 2022 #my writing

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

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Sultry Head Canons

Pairing: Marc Spector x Layla El Faouly x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1100 words

Outline: Being in a polyamorous relationship with Marc and Layla includes...

Warnings: pet names, cockwarming, multiple sex positions, multiple mentions of ejaculations, nipple play, bite kink, mentions of sex toys.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to my story Sultry and it features a couple of headcanons for how their rest of the summer unfolded. This could be a stand-alone but I do encourage you to read the story! Second time doing hds, hope you like them!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist ・❥・Layla El Faouly Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

The rest of your summer in Cairo went swimmingly, cuddled in perfectly with your two lovers. You were incredibly happy that these two people had decided to keep you with them and you never stopped to express your gratitude and your devotion to them. Turning yourself into the perfect pet for them.

No one is shy when it comes to PDA, they are touching you subtly, and dominantly at any place. Spreading your legs whenever they needed you to do so or making you display your naked body for them on any occasion.

Layla is a little more subtle whereas Marc is openly possessive and determined. He never lets you go too long without a kiss or a touch. He needs to have his hands on you or on Layla at all times. Layla is more subtle, she knows you would never stray.

Marc and Layla kept you at their house, at a secluded part just outside of town. Not many eyes to see what you were all up to. They didn’t have a problem with you going to work and for your studies as long as you always came back to them.

What surprised you the most is how much they liked taking you on fancy dates and day trips. Make sure you were dressed to the nines, both of them immaculate dressed and adorned in jewelry.

Marc loved Layla and it was so striking to watch as they both showered you in affection. Their shared love made you even happier to be part of this relationship.

Marc loved feeding Layla and she loved doing the same thing. Many times while Marc was using you as a cockwarmer, Layla fed you marshmallows straight from her mouth, kissing you sweetly as you whimpered from up above him.

Stargazing was one of your favorite activities together. Wrapped all together in one thin blanket, snuggled in for better warmth as you often fell asleep looking at the stars and listening to them talk and talk for hours about their shared interests and their work.

They both love using as their pillows while they sleep, and a lot of times you had them both sleeping on your chest, mouths on your nipples, Marc’s cock is whichever cunt he preferred that day.

Marc loved painting you with his cum, and making you walk around the apartment with it dripping down your thigh, only to have Layla clean it off a couple of minutes later.

But you also loved and enjoyed the peace and the quiet together, reading books on top of each other, chin on someone’s shoulder, you massaging Layla while Marc was reciting a poem in french for the both of you.

Music! Layla was a huge fan of music and she loved teaching you about Egyptian music and singers. Often taking you dancing, the three of them make quite the picture altogether. She loved twirling you around and making you grind on Marc, liked when he cursed under his breath and held both of your wrists tight to shove you into a narrow alley.

Layla loved it when someone played with her hair, so both you and Marc made sure to show your love for her and her beautiful mane.

Marc liked fucking you till you screamed and wailed underneath him but Layla liked it just as rough, that day she brought home a strap-on, and she was fucking you fast and hard and almost broke your back. Marc looked so proud of her. Having them both take you like that, cock over cock, inside your tight holes would always leave you aching.

Sometimes when Layla was too busy with something else, Marc would determinedly fuck you loudly someone close to her just to break her bravado and yet Layla never gave in. On the other hand, the minute Layla touched you whenever Marc was busy, he would never hesitate to leave his work just to take care of both of you.

Bath time was one of your favorites, taking turns washing each other, soft massages, and tender touches with the softest kisses in between.

Sharing clothes, you loved wearing Marc’s t-shirt and he loved existing completely naked, never hesitate to show you how hard you both made his cock.

Marc loved having you both on all fours, above a blanket outside at the terrace, and just tease and tease you until your collective wetness was enough to make him go jackhammer on you both.

Other times, he preferred spanking you both like this, one hand on each asscheek but there were many times Marc joined you, very pleased to receive some spankings from his wife. And oh god, he whimpered…loud and proud.

Yet their favorite position was placing you in the middle and worshipping your body, each trying to outdo the other as they devoured your nipples and your cunt till you couldn’t have anymore.

Sometimes, Layla took that position and you were more than happy to oblige, taking in her scent and her beauty, having Marc praise you for all the good job you were doing.

One of your most memorable mornings, was when you woke up to Layla kissing your mouth so sweetly and passionately, Marc stretching you out with fingers until he entered you, Layla’s lips never leaving yours until you orgasmed in her mouth.

Often, one of you would be the observer looking at what the others were doing until someone (most often Marc) would give in and come and join.

Yet when you were the observer you always sat quietly, never touched yourself, you were a good girl, you knew your place and time would come soon enough.

Marc loved it having Layla’s on his face while he hammered his cock on your pussy, keeping a brutal pace with both his tongue and his thrusts as Layla tried to hold on to you for support.

One night, you were sitting on the edge of the bed legs spread, both of them assaulting you with their tongues, pushing your legs apart. You never knew you could orgasm again and again until you passed out. They took their turns kissing each other in between so sinfully and deliciously.

There were marks and bites all over your body, they both loved claiming you as theirs and you were proud to be theirs.

The day you had to leave and return back home, they both tearfully greeted you at their airport making promises of finding each other again.

for updates follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly smut #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector x female reader #selenewrites #moon knight x you #marc spector x reader x layla el Faouly

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hederasgarden · 2 years

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Nothing Lasts But Light

Summary: You love Layla enough to accept anything, even Marc.

Pairing: Established Layla El-Faouly x Reader l Layla El-Faouly x Reader x Marc Spector l Marc Spector x Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Explicit sexual acts, threesome, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, cum eating, and angst.

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I can’t remember how long Marc disappeared from Layla’s life but I took a few liberties with this fic and made it over a year.

You meet Layla first.

It’s a fast friendship that grows effortlessly between you, sometimes it’s hard to remember life before her. She’s beautiful and confident, so at ease in her own skin that you can’t help but envy her. Love comes later, after Marc disappears and your friendship deepens into something more. Her lips on yours are a revelation, the feel of her hands on your skin addictive. She cracks you open easily, putting your body under hers and drawing out your soft heart while guarding her own.

You know what she does for a living is dangerous. She never tells you where she goes but she comes back to you beaten up more times than you can count. You accept her every time. You have to - you love her. Turning her away is unthinkable, even tonight when she shows up with Marc whose sharp eyes are distrustful and wary. They’re both bloody, their clothes torn. He is arguably worse off, looking anxiously over his shoulder. You’ve been half-expecting this since Layla left three weeks ago after a phone call from him but you’re still a little surprised he’s actually here. She spent months looking for him, always coming up empty-handed.

“Come in, come in,” you encourage, stepping back and letting them into your apartment.

It’s a small space, cozy but cluttered. Marc takes it all in, zeroing in on the photos that decorate your mantel… The ones that show you and Layla laughing and carefree. His gaze skips over to the kitchen table where one of her jackets is folded neatly over the back of a chair. The whole apartment is littered with evidence of the life you’ve built with her. One without him.

Layla helps Marc onto your couch while you rummage under the sink in the kitchen for the first aid kit. When you return you look between them, trying to determine who needs attention first. Most of the blood on Layla looks like it’s from him… Or maybe someone else because if Marc had lost all that blood he wouldn’t be upright. You reach to treat the still bleeding cut on his brow but he grasps your wrists before you can touch him. His grip is just shy of painful, fingernails digging into your skin. You glance at Layla who lays a hand on Marc’s thigh.

“Let her clean you up,” she says. “Please.”

Marc releases you after a long moment. Tension lines every muscle of his body when you step between his legs. Layla closes her eyes and leans back against the couch. As you slowly clean Marc's face you look at her every so often, cataloging the weary set of her brow and the utter exhaustion written all over her. There’s a scratch on her face but it’s superficial. Her shirt clings wetly to her chest from what you hope isn’t blood.

She seems to sense you looking and opens her eyes, smiling softly. “I’m ok, habibti,” she promises.

You nod and turn your attention back to Marc. The weight of his gaze on you is heavy, almost a physical sensation. You lean closer, craning over him to follow the deep gash in his shoulder down his back. When you almost lose your balance he steadies you with a hand on your hip. It’s strange being so close to him. Even after he married Layla he wasn’t around much, disappearing for days or weeks at a time. When he was home, he kept his distance. You suspected back then whatever he did for a living probably wasn’t exactly legal and you know neither is Layla’s chosen profession.

Tipping his head back and to the side you look at his neck, frowning. The skin there is puckered from what looks to have been a blade to his throat. “This is going to need stitches,” you tell him, concerned.

That was never something you excelled at. A wonky little scar on Layla’s shoulder from when you patched her up months ago was a testament to that and you still feel guilty for marring her beauty. She promptly silenced your concern with a kiss and those clever fingers of hers.

“Just clean it up, it’ll heal on its own,” Marc directs, staring straight ahead.

Layla cracks an eye open and gives you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue cleaning away the blood and grime from his skin. Up close he smells like soot and cordite but every once and a while you catch the floral scent of your girlfriend’s perfume. After you’re finished there’s a sizable pile of bloody bandages on the coffee table behind you, but at least Marc looks better.

Layla opens her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Her nose wrinkles. “I need a shower,” she announces, standing.

She cups the back of your head and kisses you sweetly before pulling away to rest her forehead against yours. You stay like that for several moments, taking comfort from one another before she pulls away and disappears down the hall. When you look back at Marc he’s staring up at you. His hand is still on your hip and you realize yours is still resting on his shoulder. You withdraw it with a quiet apology and his own falls away as you busy yourself with cleaning up the gauze and putting away your supplies. Several minutes pass in silence before Marc finally speaks.

“She told you everything?” He asks.

You turn to face him, surprised to find he’s only inches away from you. Barely 20 minutes ago he was swaying on his feet, leaning heavily on Layla but now he’s standing upright, color back in his face. Although he’s not a big man his presence is overwhelming, commanding your attention and respect. It’s easy to see why Layla fell for him, drawn to the way he exudes both danger and comfort… admittedly a strange mix. He looks ready to tear down the world for someone he loves.

“She did,” you confirm quietly.

Layla kept many secrets, something you struggled with at first but this wasn’t one of them. She told you the truth about Marc and the suit the first night you got together. Since then you’ve spoken often about him. So much so that in some ways, you feel like you know Marc as well as you know Layla.

“And you’re… ok with it? With me?” He asks.

“I am.”

Marc relaxes at your admission, bowing his head in a surprising show of vulnerability you hadn’t expected. His breath is ragged. You feel compelled to step forward, touching his shoulder.

“She searched for you for a long time but she always believed you would come back,” you tell him.

While you don’t want to hurt Marc, you also want him to understand. You love Layla fiercely and you’ll protect her from anything, herself included. He looks up at you before glancing down the hall.

“All this really doesn’t bother you?” He asks.

“Why would it? Just because she loves you too that doesn’t mean she loves me any less.”

“It’s true,” Layla says, startling you both. Her hair and skin are still damp from the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She looks radiant and you feel a tug on your heart as she approaches the two of you. She links her fingers with yours.

“Go get a shower, we can talk after,” she promises Marc.

Once he’s gone she turns to you, cupping your face and rubbing her nose slowly against yours. “Are you ok with this?” She asks.

Your girlfriend’s expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable, reminding you when she admitted she would take Marc back if he returned. You hadn’t understood at first that she wanted both of you. She had a hungry heart, loving deeply and fiercely in a way you admired. In a way you envied. You agreed then and now, even though you have some concerns, you find you can’t deny you’re interested.

“I am.” She visibly relaxes. “But he seems sad… lost,” you add seriously.

“You’re good with damaged things,” Layla whispers, reaching for the tie on your robe. She tugs it free and pushes it off your shoulders, admiring the thin nightgown you wear underneath. You shudder when she drags her fingertips over the swell of your breast, nails catch on the delicate skin.

“You’re not broken,” you remind her meaningfully. “Did Marc explain why he left?”

“He did. It’s complicated,” she admits. You wait for her to continue but she doesn’t elaborate. You don’t push her to. Loving Layla meant trusting she’ll tell you things when she’s ready to. “I can find him somewhere else to stay if you want.”

“If you trust him that’s enough for me.”

Layla smiles, the sight helping you relax into her embrace and accept her lips on yours again. She groans, grasping your waist and walking you back towards the couch. You stumble and she follows you down onto the leather seat, straddling your thighs. She sheds her towel, revealing her beautiful body. It feels electric, her weight against you and the smell of her shampoo surrounding you. She shivers when you run your hands up and down her back. You trade soft kisses, reveling in the feel of the other, each touch adding to the building ache in your core.

“What about Marc?” You question breathlessly. You can still hear the shower running but he won't be in there forever.

“If you want him to join us he can. If you don’t, we can take this to the bedroom,” she promises, holding your face in her hands. “I’m ok if we take this slow but either way I want you right now.”

“I want you too,” you admit, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider the man in the other room. You do want them both. The smart thing to do would be to stop and talk about everything but Layla’s always made you a little reckless. “Ok,” you agree, body trembling with anticipation.

She climbs off your lap to kneel between your thighs, flipping your short nightgown up, and urging you to scoot to the edge of the couch. She nuzzles your cunt and inhales deeply. Your eyes close at the first touch of her tongue, her fingers kneading your inner thigh. Layla knows your body better than you know it yourself. She uses her thumb to rub your clit while she fucks you with her tongue. The vibration of her soft moans has your back arching, fingers sliding into her hair. She is a giving lover, working you over with a gentle finesse that a man never could replicate. You gasp, chanting her name, hips rising off the couch and you hold her against you.

The floorboards creak and your eyes shoot open to find Marc standing in the hallway. He looks dangerous and alluring, expression half shadowed even as his eyes seem to glimmer in the dim light. He’s bare chested, one of your towels wrapped around low around his hips. You stare at one another until Layla draws your orgasm to the surface and your eyes flutter closed, your whole body going taut.

“Oh,” you breathe. Layla continues to lap at your core, drawing out your pleasure until you can’t take anymore and push weakly at her head. She stares up at you, rubbing your thighs and humming in satisfaction.

She glances over her shoulder at Marc and the two of them share a long, intimate look. Whatever he sees on her face has him stepping cautiously into the living room, glancing back at you. Layla rises, unashamed of her nudity and draws Marc in for a kiss. You see how she pushes her tongue in his mouth, sharing your taste with him. The sight makes you clench around nothing and heat spreads through your limbs when Marc groans.

“Do you want to taste it from the source?” She asks him, molding her chest to his back and resting her chin on his shoulder. You feel suddenly shy having both their attention on you and bring your knees together but stop with Layla clicks her tongue. “Let him see, habibti,” she encourages.

You swallow heavily and let your legs fall open.

“Beautiful,” Marc whispers, moving forward. He drops to his knees before you, his bulk forcing your legs further apart. “Is this ok?” He asks, looking up at you.

You nod, shivering when he draws a thick finger through your folds, parting them to his intense gaze. His fingers are calloused and rough, so much bigger than Layla’s. Although you’re still sensitive from Layla’s mouth you can’t deny how good it feels to have him gently explore you. When his thumb drags over your clit you flinch, inhaling sharply. He does it again, watching you face contort with pleasure. The two fingers he slips inside meet no resistance.

Marc maintains eye contact as he dips down to taste you for the first time, flicking his tongue across your clit in time with the way his fingers drag in and out of you. The couch dips as Layla comes to sit beside you, reaching into your nightgown to cup your breast. She pinches and pulls your nipple until you’re arching off the couch and crying out. You share a kiss and she pushes her tongue in your mouth while you teeter on the edge of another orgasm. You’re nearly there when Layla pulls away and tells Marc to stop. He’s panting just as hard as you when he draws back.

“The bedroom,” Layla instructs, pulling you to stand and leaving Marc to follow. She strips you of your nightgown and urges you back onto the bed, climbing over you to settle on your stomach. You cup her hips, looking up at her curiously. You’re not exactly sure how this will go but you trust Layla.

“I want to watch Marc fuck you,” she whispers, bending down to kiss your neck. She nips at the skin there, causing you to groan quietly. “I’d like to see you two together,” she continues, dragging her lips along the shell of your ear.

“What about you two. Don’t you want to…”

“We already reintroduced ourselves,” Layla assures you.

The thought of them together makes your mouth grow dry and you rub your thighs together to relieve the pressure you feel in your core. You half wonder exactly how that would have gone because Marc doesn’t seem the type to give up control easily, though you know how good it can be under Layla soft instruction.

“I wanted tonight to be about the two of you getting acquainted,” Layla explains, “And if you’re not ready for that I know Marc would love to finish eating you out. Or just watch us.”

You look past her to Marc who stands in the doorway. He’s abandoned the towel, fisting his cock in his hand slowly as he watches the two of you. An encouraging smile is all it takes for him to stalk towards you. Layla settles herself next you on the bed, curled into your side. One hand disappears between her thighs, a tendon on her forearm flexing as she begins to touch herself while the other rests on your stomach.

Marc climbs on the bed, looking between Layla and you. “Should I get a condom?” He asks. “I’m clean but…”

You glance at Layla and she nods, encouragingly.

“I’m ok if you are,” you tell him, reaching up to touch his cheek. His eyes close at the contact, leaning into your palm. “I think we all trust each other here.”

Marc settles himself between your thighs and leans forward, hand resting beside your head. He leans down slowly, giving you time to react. You tilt your head up and meet his mouth. It’s soft, just the brush of your lips against his but after a moment his tongue urges your mouth open to taste you. Both of you groan as he takes control of the kiss and lowers his body to rest against yours. Even though the kiss turns harsher, more demanding, he surprises you by doing nothing more than kissing you for a few moments, fingertips caressing your neck and cheek.

When he pulls away you’re breathless, eyes wide. He smiles and shifts forward. You can feel his thick cock at your entrance. As he pushes inside you slowly, Layla grasps your chin and directs you to kiss her. She swallows down your soft cries as Marc enters you, your cunt fluttering in response to how full you feel.

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes closing.

You tear your lips from Layla’s and grasp Marc’s forearms to arch your back, wanting more. “Oh, please,” you moan.

Marc draws back slowly only to thrust inside you again, building you up slowly as he chases his own pleasure. You’re overwhelmed by the rush of both emotions and physical sensations. You lift your hips, wanting him to reach deeper. He grunts, grasping your right leg and hitching it up. Pleasure skitters along every nerve and you tilt your chin back, reveling in the feel of his lips on your throat.

Beside you Layla gasps, making that beautiful sound you’re intimately familiar with as she gets closer and closer to her own orgasm. You watch through your lashes as she fucks herself furiously with her fingers, her own attention focused on where you and Marc are joined together. One hand cups her breast, plucking her own nipple. Suddenly she stills, back arching off the bed and she comes with a beautiful cry that intensifies your own pleasure.

“Want you to come too,” Marc whispers, flexing his fingers against your hip. You turn your attention back to him, staring into his deep brown eyes. He hitches your leg higher on his hip and increases his rhythm into faster, deeper strokes that have you clenching around him. “Touch yourself,” he commands.

You do as he asks, slipping a hand between your bodies to find your clit. It’s sensitive and swollen, you don’t need to do much to push yourself over the edge with the way Marc is fucking you. Your orgasm rolls up from your stomach, spreading across your chest and then down through your limbs, everything white hot and tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Marc chants, voice going hoarse. His strokes lengthen until he finally stops, buried deep inside you. He looks almost pained, his eyes closed and his face a primal mask of pleasure. You both come down together, breathing evening out but your own heart still races in your chest.

“I could get used to watching this,” Layla comments. “Maybe next time I’ll sit on that pretty face though,” she says, tracing your lips with her finger.

The idea makes you clench around Marc who groans and shifts forward. He drops his body against yours but is careful to keep his weight on his forearms to not crush you.

“You’re fucking insatiable,” Marc says affectionately.

“Good thing there’s two of us now,” you tell him, resting your hand on his bicep. Marc’s gaze turns back to you, his expression soft. He brushes the back of his hand over your cheek and smiles.

Layla hums happily beside you, leaning forward to kiss you and then Marc. “Stay here,” she says, rising from the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

Marc pulls back, easing out of you with a sharp breath. He settles himself beside you as Layla emerges with two washcloths. She hands one to Marc and eyes you considerably, tongue running along her bottom lip as she stares between your thighs. You can feel Marc’s spend leaking out of you and know it’s what has her so mesmerized. She climbs on the bed and dips a finger in the mess, her touch making you jump. She sucks her fingers clean and sighs.

“I think you need a rest but next time I’ll clean you up,” she promises, gently dragging the washcloth through your folds. When she’s done, she climbs between you and Marc, urging you to curl up beside her. Marc settles behind her and after a moment you feel his hand settle on your hip, his thumb stroking your skin.

Tomorrow you’ll have to figure out how this will work but for now you close your eyes, exhausted and content. What matters is Layla is home safe...and so is Marc.

#layla el-faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x female reader #layla el-faouly x reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Marc Spector x you #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x marc spector #layla el faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight

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lestersinclairsbf · 2 years

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Warning: NSFW

Need me a Marc x Male Reader x Layla fic (with Layla pegging)

#nsft #Moon Knight #marc spector #layla el faouly #marc spector x reader #marc spector x male reader #layla el faouly x reader #Layla el faouly x male reader #marc spector x layla el faouly #Marc spector x Reader x Layla el faouly #Marc spector x male Reader x Layla el faouly

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loud-mouth-loser · 10 months

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not him

summary: you’ve been steven’s best friend for a while and have had a crush on him as long as you’ve known him. unfortunately, his eyes are on layla, his alter’s wife. let's just say, you’re not the only one put off by this. this is a story of how you and marc bond over your sorrows.

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: angst

warning: drunk kiss, one-sided pining, (kinda) cheating, angst, feelings (?)

w/c: 2.7k

a/n: sometimes you just need to feel needed

part two

----

Steven is the type of guy who has no idea what to do with his hands. But when it comes to you, he’s all hands on deck. He’s touchy and you think it’s partially because he’s touch-starved.

And you are too, but in a different way.

Where he craves for touch, you simply cannot process the feeling. It’s foreign. Overwhelming. You’re just not used to it.

But you pull through it because you like him.

And he has no idea.

Steven Grant, the most clueless man in London, gently grasps your hand like you’re not about to keel over from the mere presence of him. You never imagined yourself harboring a massive crush on your best friend, but it’s happened. Or, it’s been happening.

Steven sees you as a safe and reliable friend – one that wouldn’t get the wrong idea if he were to cuddle behind you or play with your hair. And he’s right, in a way. You do understand exactly what his intentions are. And that is nothing.

You’re one to never get your hopes up. Preferring to expect the worst so you’re never disappointed in the end. So you’re fine just being there for him because you’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

He’s adorable really. At first glance you may think he’s a quiet bookworm, looking for a nice spot against the wall to live out the rest of his days, but really, if you give him a chance, he’ll talk for hours. And you’ll listen.

He has a higher-pitched voice than you might’ve expected. His British lit takes it up a notch and you think it’s endearing. He can go on and on about different Egyptian mythological stories, telling each one with details that you swear can only be known by those who were actually there experiencing them.

His eyes light up with a sparkle of his own that you crave to see whenever he’s around. It’s that type of look that spreads his passion and curiosity to whoever's around. You’ve never experienced passion like that until you met him.

And you want more. You’ll always want more. But…it’s too late.

Steven is taken. No – actually he’s married. Well, let’s take a couple of steps back, he’s actually two guys: Steven and Marc.

Marc, the American pessimist, is actually married to a woman named Layla and has been for years now. He just decided to show himself out of the blue one day and now he’s part of Steven. Or he always was a part of Steven, just a hidden one.

Steven, the romantic he is, quickly clicked with Layla and has been chasing after her like a love-sick puppy ever since. And much to Marc’s displeasure, he’s formed a bond with her.

“...And we kissed, can you believe it?” There’s that sparkle again. “I swear to you, she has the softest, most wonderful lips.” He drones on and on about Layla and you can tell it’s all genuine and innocent, which makes it so much worse. “She’s strong and brave, and possibly the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.”

She’s…perfect.

The back of your neck prickles with heat as he continues, “I know I’ve only known her for a couple of months, but I think – no, I know that I love her.” There’s a tingle at the back of your throat that tightens at his words, threatening to burn your eyes with tears if you’re not careful. You swallow it back, jaw clenched to control yourself.

After a moment, his warm brown eyes bore deeply into yours, thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. You force a small smile at him, holding back the urge to pull your hands away from his. “That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.”

You’ve never been so jealous.

—

Turns out you weren’t the only one unhappy with the news. Apparently, Marc punched Steven in the jaw when it happened (meaning he technically punched himself), telling him to stay away from his wife, but, of course, that didn’t stop Steven and Layla from seeing each other after.

So that’s how you formed an unexpected friendship with Steven’s other half. It’s nothing like Steven and Layla, you are simply just friends. Disgruntled friends at that. Drinking buddies if you want to be more accurate.

You’ve shared a case of beer with Marc countless times. Steven sleeps early so as soon as 10 pm rolls around, you’re stuck with Marc. Well ‘stuck’ is a bit harsh, but being that Steven is your preferred company at any time of the day, it’s true.

But you’ll admit, it’s not that bad.

He actually talks to you, sometimes. You were surprised the first time you got him to open up about how he and Layla were married, but separated. Apparently, being the righteous man he is, he suddenly made the executive decision to move away for her safety, worrying that his work as an avatar could put her in imminent danger. No wonder Layla was less than jazzed to find out about his life in London.

You knew a little bit about Marc and the Egyptian god, Konshu, but because it has never really directly affected your life, you’ve never fully believed it. The random bouts when Steven has disappeared, however, have been worrying, but Marc filled in the gaps pretty well while making sure to refrain from sharing any sensitive information. You realize Marc probably doesn’t have many friends he can trust with any information at all, so you’re willing to stay and listen like you would for Steven. And it’s fine. You’re content with the dynamic.

Marc is just different. More serious, less…gentle.

But don’t get it wrong, Marc can be enjoyable, even funny sometimes. Sometimes. He has this dry sense of humor that you never expected from him and sometimes it feels like he’s actually engaging in conversation instead of him talking at you. And when he’s in a really good mood, he even flirts with you for the hell of it. You never take it seriously, but that is something Steven doesn’t like – and he hasn’t even seen the half of it. You brush it off, believing Steven is just being protective while Marc instigates as much as possible to get back at him.

Tonight is one of those good nights. It started normally: Steven went to bed, Marc got out of bed, and you’re now letting old episodes of a sitcom run in the background as you trade stories about the horrible drivers you’ve encountered in the past.

“ – Then the guy stops in the middle of the road, green light, and everything, and opens his trunk because he wanted to change his shirt!”

Marc’s eyebrows are high on his head as he listens animatedly. “Right there?” His hand is wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer that’s half-drained already. He’s on his fifth, you’re on your third. It’s one of the heavier nights, but neither one of you mentions anything.

“Yes! Right there!” You smile against the mouth of your bottle at the sound of his deep chuckle. It’s so different from Steven’s, but you still enjoy hearing it. Maybe even strive to hear it. You take a deep swallow of your drink then set it down on the crowded coffee table. It’s littered with books, bottles, and a few remotes for various parts of the tv.

“Did you drive around him?”

“No, he was taking up two lanes with his crooked-ass park job! Oh my god, people were so pissed, honking and yelling at the guy – He didn’t even care!” You like him like this, light and open, like everything in his past has evaporated off his shoulders. You can see prominent smile lines at the corner of his eyes as he laughs at the story. Sometimes you wonder who put them there. Steven or Marc. Or was it a joint effort?

The energy in the room dies down as you close the story, but it doesn’t bother you. You just wait for him to continue the conversation, to do his part. That’s how this works: you speak, then he speaks, then you go again.

But he doesn’t, not this time.

You look at him, expecting a dumb question or controversial take on something like usual, but he just stares right back, eyes half-lidded. You’ve never seen that look before.

There’s never any real silence when you and Marc hang out – and even when there is, there really isn’t. That’s why the TV is always on, so you never have space to think. Like really think. It’s like having music play as you eat dinner: the noise plays over the sounds of obnoxious chewing and utensils scraping against plates.

You need that sound. Without it, you wouldn’t be able to sit here next to him. But sometimes it’s not enough. This time it’s not enough.

This silence feels different, even as the muffled voice of the TV drones in the background. It’s unnerving and it settles around you, like fine dust over furniture.

“Is that a new shirt or somethin’?” He sits up slightly against the arm of the couch, eyes sweeping over your body, “I swear, I’ve never seen your cleavage from this angle before.”

“Marc!” You cross your arms over your chest, “Stop looking you perv!” Your face blooms with heat, though it’s already quite warm from the alcohol you’ve been drinking. He has a teasing grin on his face, but his eyes convey something else.

“Mhm…You wore that for Stevey didn’t you?” His words come out in loops, slurred slightly from the drinking challenge you had earlier in the evening.

“And?” Your ears burn as you confirm his suspicions, “What if I did?”

One of his eyebrows lifts in amusement, “You know he’s in love with my wife, don’t you?”

You frown at him, “Yes, Marc. I’m aware.” Your hand reaches for your bottle of beer if only to have something to look at other than those familiar eyes of his. The label is starting to rub off from the perspiration on the glass.

“Then why do you keep trying?” You feel exasperated. Why do you keep trying? You know Steven’s feelings and intentions, and none of them relate to you. You’re his best friend and he’s…well, he’s taken. You’ve never wanted to risk losing your friendship with him, but at the same time, you’ve never lost hope.

“I… don’t know.” Your skin itches. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. Usually, you and Marc would spend a few hours taking turns talking about nothing then you’d call an Uber home and see Steven in the morning.

“Well…He’s an idiot.”

“What –”

Marc sits up, body almost leaning into your space, “Steven has no idea what’s right in front of him.”

“Marc,”

A hand catches yours and you’re thrown back to that day when Steven told you his feelings for Layla.

You are sitting in the exact same position on the couch as that day: you and him, hand in hand and face to face. But this is different. This time Steven’s mouth is telling you exactly what you want to hear.

“You’re beautiful.” But it’s not him.

Marc’s gaze searches your face for a reaction, but all you can do is stare back and look into those soft brown eyes. They have that sparkle. The same look you’ve longed to be directed at you since you met Steven.

You almost give in to that look, wanting to soak in the eagerness flashing in his eyes, but you don’t. You try to take your hands from his hold but he pulls you closer instead. His face is barely a few inches away from yours.

“We shouldn’t…” Your voice is low in a mere whisper. Like you’re sharing a secret.

He smells like him, and he should, you suppose, but it’s still odd to think about how Steven and Marc share a body while being completely different people.

His eyes are different though. His brows sit lower, almost grazing against his dark lashes, infinitely more intense than Steven’s curious look. He’s more alert, or at least, less tired than Steven. And somehow, Steven’s sleepless eye bags disappear when Marc takes control.

But he also looks at you differently. At first, he didn’t look at you at all. He was standoffish, uninterested, and unimpressed. But now, his eyes bore into you and pin you in place. He’s more than looking at you, he’s devouring you. And you like it.

“We shouldn’t…” He echoes your words almost like he’s agreeing, but his eyes flit down to your parted lips directly contradicting your shared sentiment. “But I want to.”

“I-...” He follows your tongue as it pokes out and wets your lower lip nervously, his eyes are nearly glazed over with desire. His hand cups your jaw gently and he slowly tilts your face to look at him. You lean into his touch, craving the feeling of his calloused skin against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in, but the kiss never comes.

Instead, a soft sigh brushes your mouth as he holds you close, barely a few centimeters from meeting your lips.

He whispers low with his eyes trained on your parted lips, voice strained with desperation and need, “Please…let me kiss you, sweetheart.” He sounds so broken, yet so sure of this. Like he’s been waiting for this his whole life. You let out a small whimper at his words, unable to hold in how much you want him. His forehead rests against yours, “Tell me you need it as much as I do.”

You attempt to push against him, to capture his lips with yours, but he doesn’t let you. His hand keeps you just far enough to keep you from what you want. “Please.” You beg. Rather than giving in, he parts even further from you and you’re met with that hungry look of his once more.

“Say it.” He sounds so serious, his voice low and rough, but you can tell he wants it as much as you do. He needs this. He needs to hear it.

“I-I want it.” Your hands come up to cradle his face, “I want you to kiss me, Marc Spector. I need you.” The last word is barely audible as you crowd closer to him, nose nudging against his as you lean in.

You feel yourself melt against him as his lips meet yours, warm, soft, and bitter from the beer. There’s an unexplainable feeling that zips up your spine when he kisses you back, hungrily moving his mouth against yours.

You didn’t know a kiss could feel this good.

There’s a push and pull as you move against each other. As the kiss deepens with desire it’s abated by a softened touch as light as a whisper. You love the small sighs he lets out when you sweetly pull back, letting him chase your lips for softer, more playful nips. And then the deeper sounds when you’re flush against him, eagerly drinking him in.

By now, you’ve been pulled onto his lap, legs straddling comfortably over his. His chest rumbles with a groan as your tongue brushes against his, desperately taking in his intoxicating taste. You lean further into him, needing to feel his body against yours.

Your hands drift from his jaw into the soft curls of his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless groan of his once more. His hands wrap around your waist and drop to squeeze at your hips, holding you closer as if you aren’t already fully against him.

At some point, you have to break the kiss, if only for a second of air. You look at each other breathing heavily, wrapped around one another, unwilling to part any further.

Silence hangs in the air, but it’s light. Barely even there.

You look at him, and he looks right back, lips swollen with love, or at least the adjacent.

You let out a breath, more like a sigh of relief, when you see it: that sparkle. It’s still there.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #steven grant x layla el faouly

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gucciboots · 2 years

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these spot the difference games are getting harder nowadays 🤨

#moon knight #moon knight thoughts #Steven grant #marc Spector #jake lockley #mr. knight #oscar isaac #moonknight #marvel #mcu #marvel’s moon knight #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #khonshu #Taweret #layla el faouly #puppies #moon knight series

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starks-hero · 2 years

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episode 6 of moon knight review

that is all

#moon knight #moon knight spoilers #the bisexual panic I felt was unparalleled #marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #rambles

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lockley-spktr · 21 days

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Moon Knight (2022)

Episode Two: Summon The Suit

With little time to react, Steven is thrust into a war of the gods as a mysterious partner arrives.

Two years ago today.

April 6th, 2022

#oscar isaac #steven grant #mr. knight #steven grant x reader #khonshu #marc spector #marc sector x reader #moon knight #may calamawy #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #disney #disney+

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bruciemilf · 2 years

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I said, that's my baby, and I'm really proud

#steven grant #marvel #mcu #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #layla el faouly #mcu moon knight #mcu mk #moonknight #steven grant x reader #memes #lol #oscar isaac

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ohlovxr · 1 year

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the one where they knock you up (+ bonus: the one where you find out you’re pregnant)

masterlist | series masterlist

It was a long time coming.

It was months of planning in the making. Months that they spent practically courting you; small but intimate acts after the initial help they have you moving into the complex that consisted of helping you redecorate, being the more than willing ears you could talk off because you knew no one else in such a new city, and inviting you over for dinners. Really, though, the most intimate act of all had been your trust.

It hadn’t been long before they had you in between them… and they had to make sure it stayed that way.

Marc took the first step and switched out your birth control pills with placebos.

Layla spent those months tracking your cycle with offhanded jokes about cramps and making sure to ask if you needed anything from the market whenever she went so that they could keep both you and your trust.

Marc having snuck a look over your shoulder when you were unlocking your phone helped speed the process.

From that point on, all it took was planning a nice at-home dinner on the right night. All it took was getting enough wine in your system and filthy promises whispered into your ear to get you strewn out on their bed, wet and needy.

It took about three orgasms to turn you into a malleable, incoherent mess. Relaxed and open to them. Still, the balls twitching against you as Marc fucked deep into you cut slightly through your delirium.

You really could be so paranoid sometimes.

“M… Marc, ‘s not safe,” your words came out thick and slurred. The drag of his cock in and out of your wet hole, feeling the naked ridges that made him so distinctly Marc over your needy walls, and the soft “Sh, sweetheart. It’s okay,” made you shiver despite the heat.

A sharp thrust that sent his tip prodding at your sore sweet spot left you crying out, your pussy tightening around his cock, and shifting in the arms of the woman you laid between the legs of. One of Layla’s hands fell from your thighs to play with your swollen clit, her smooth voice filled your ear, “He feels good, doesn’t he, my love?”

Tears brim your eyes with how persistent he’s become to pound into that little sore spot inside of you and you nod. You repeat yourself all-the-same, “B… But what if - oh - Layla, what if I end up-”

She talks over your little whine about how Marc has to pull out with a patient, “I know, I know.” She lets the fingers rubbing your clit slid down to where you and Marc were connected, feeling her chest vibrate against your back as she hummed in approval. Like she was proud of how you stretched so perfectly to take her husband. “But you’re on the pill, honey. This’ what it’s for. I promise you.”

A whine tore through your throat as you relented and squirmed between them. “‘kay.”

Marc’s grip on you tightened to hold you still as Layla cut you off, “That’s our good girl. Besides, would it be so bad?” She looked to her husband, feigning innocence. “Marc?”

“Can’t say it would.” His thrusts started to slow and his cock twitched inside you. His hand came up from your thigh, where he was holding you open, to grip your jaw. His eyes pierced into yours, seriousness written into his tone as he spoke to you, lips just about grazing yours. “You’d look perfect all round and full with my baby. So fucking beautiful.”

“Let him do it, honey.” Layla’s voice was honey-sweet in your ear, her other hand moving from your thigh to splay over your lower stomach. “Let him fill you up… make you a mommy.”

You don’t have a choice when you feel the hot spurt of his cum deep inside of you. You don’t have a say in how your walls reflexively spasm around his cock and greedily milk him for every drop.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Marc cooed sweetly to you, a soft smile on his face as he smooths your hair back and away from your face soothingly, shifting and urging a gasp from your lips as he shifted to purposefully force his cum deeper. “Feels good, huh?”

Your sniffles echo through the room as your tears finally begin to fall, overwhelmed by the feeling of being so full of him, before you laugh, shyly whispering, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Layla mimics playfully into your ear before peppering kisses onto your neck and making you squirm inwards, giggling at the ticklish feel. She brings her mouth back up to your ear. “I think now is where I get to say I told you so, my love.”

You roll your eyes playfully and soft pinch it earns you on the sensitive skin of your thighs, courtesy of the man still in between your thighs, tears a little yelp from you.

“I just… I don’t get it. I’m on the pill! This shouldn’t be happening!”

Heat simmered in your belly, the kind that was unpleasant and that you found yourself unused to, as you held the positive test in your hands.

Missing your period, your tits fucking killing you, and waking up for the past week unbelievably nauseous were the major driving forces that had taken you down to the shops to sheepishly purchase a box set of three.

You look up from the test to face the couple standing in front of you, the space of your bathroom suddenly feeling much smaller. Patience painted both their faces, and you didn’t know where it made you appreciative or angry. “I told you both I could get pregnant! It’s why people make condoms! Layla, you told me it’d be fine and it’s not, okay? It’s not!”

Layla’s face fell in front of your eyes and you felt your chest tighten, suddenly ashamed of yourself. She spoke softly, “I’m sorry, honey. I just wanted you to feel good.”

“No, hey, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Marc’s arm came up to wrap around Layla’s shoulders, rubbing her arm comfortingly, before his gaze turned to you. His defensive tone softened when you looked down shamefully and his free hand cups your chin to tilt your gaze back up to his. “Still, you know, you are right, sweetheart. This shouldn’t be happening. It’s a two percent chance, isn’t it? You got a right to be a bit pissed… just not at us, ‘kay?”

And suddenly, you feel worse because who were you to have started throwing blame at them for this? Who were you to have started throwing around blame in the first place, as if there were any to be thrown around?

You nod, whispering a pitiful, “I’m sorry,” before Marc’s pulling you into both his and Layla’s arms.

Layla breathes a laugh as the tension surrounding you dissipates slightly. “Almost feels like the universe is trying to tell us something, doesn’t it?”

Pulling away, you’re at a loss for words and looking at her doubtfully.

In your peripheral, you see Marc’s gaze veer off from you and towards the mirror, brows furrowing for a moment before he’s turning back. He licked his teeth. “She’s got a point.” He spoke over your soft I don’t know. “I don’t think I’d ever actually try to have a kid. I just- It’s never been ideal. So this…”

The “feels like it’s supposed to be happening” went unspoken.

“I just…” you pause, taking a deep breath. You pick at your nails nervously. “I’m not sure if I’m ready. What if I screw up? What if I’m such a bad parent, I end up sending this human out in the world damaged and traumatized. And I have literally no idea how to take care of baby, like at all, and-”

“Neither do we.” Marc cut you off. The sympathy you saw in his eyes told you he could understand and felt that same fear of everything you were saying.

Layla brought her hand up to stop your attack on your nails. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.” She pulls you towards her, both her hands coming up to cup your face and pulling you into a soft kiss. She mumbles against your lips, “Don’t worry so much, my love. We’re here.”

#marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #notsfw #tw manipulation #tw dubcon #dark fic #just being neighbourly #moon knight neighbour au

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ramen-flavored · 1 year

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LAYLA EL-FAOULY IS MAKING HER COMIC BOOK DEBUT!!!

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pimosworld · 11 months

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Care to join?

Pairing- Layla el Faouly x f!reader x Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley

This is my submission for @flightlessangelwings pride month celebration. I’m new to writing but this month is very special to me so I put my nerves aside and came up with this self indulgent fic.

Summary-Steven asks you about your feelings for Layla after she shows interest in you. Will this change your relationship?

Dialogue prompt- “Can I kiss you?”

CW-Explicit 18+MDNI, mentions of DID,eventual poly relationship,FF dynamics, talks about sexuality, kissing,cursing,light angst,fluff,thigh riding, smut,threesome MFF,oral sex female receiving, fingering, unprotected piv,piv cream pie

WC-3.8k

A/N- Layla is married to Marc and has been previously in an established relationship with the system. Reader is in an established relationship with Steven.Reader is not described or race coded. I will often write that the system can carry/pick up the reader and I am a plus size person who can not be carried by my partner but I like to believe that since they are superheroes they have superhuman strength.

Not beta read

***

Wednesday

You’re lying under Steven, your legs wrapped around his waist while you both try to catch your breath. You’re rubbing slow lines up and down his back as his hot breath blows on your neck.

“Love...that was… incredible.” He raises on his elbows to peer down at you with his sweat tousled curls on his forehead. You can’t help but fall in love with him every time you look into those deep brown eyes. He’s grown soft inside you but he refuses to move. He drops his head down onto your shoulder and lets out a deep sigh.

“Just give me a minute please.” You know he can be needy but the annoyance in his tone is concerning.

“You know I never rush you.” You say as you continue to trace lines up and down his back.

“God no! no! I wasn’t talking to you love.”

“Oh...” It was still weird knowing Marc was present sometimes. You haven't been intimate with him obviously not wanting to cross a line with Layla. You were with Steven and she was with Marc. You’ve been on a few dates with Jake but his shyness prevented him from fronting too often.

“I…well we have been meaning to talk to you about something.” You can sense his more than normal nervous behavior. “It’s about Layla.” You have been dreading this moment for months, the conversation you knew would come when she grew tired of sharing. She married Marc and later became established with Steven and Jake but according to Steven he’s not been with her since you met on your first day at the museum.

Surprisingly you took to his confession of having D.I.D very well. It took him several more weeks to reveal they are moon knight to which you also took in stride. It was the follow up conversation about the fact that he was technically married that you didn’t take lightly. It took you a week of reflection and a long conversation with Layla to convince you to give him another chance. No one has ever treated you like Steven and you didn’t want to give that up.

Steven often stayed at your place to give Layla her space, you knew she missed him but she always respected your relationship. When they were off doing khonshus bidding you would often have a girls night with Layla. Recently you weren’t sure how to grapple with the feelings you’ve been having towards her. You haven’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. There was no need to further complicate your already intricate relationship.

“Um…Steven, if I need to talk to Marc I would prefer we get cleaned up and put some clothes on.”

“Sorry love I didn’t mean to worry you, he’s not here anymore.” You relax a little but can’t help but worry about the impending conversation. He climbs off you and you shudder at the sudden change in temperature, no longer having his body as a barrier to the cool air in your flat.

“Let me run us a bath and we can talk while we get cleaned up.” The prospect of a relaxing bubble bath with your boyfriend would normally have you on cloud nine, but you’d rather not have such an uncomfortable conversation in such an intimate setting.

“Steven, if you’re going to break up with me I’d rather you do it now,I can just take a shower when you leave.” Your legs are curled underneath you and all you can do is stare at the rumpled sheets desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

“What!” Steven is standing in the doorway of the bathroom wide eyed and horrified at your assumption.

I told you not to bring it up after sex, she’s too vulnerable right now.

“Will you buzz off Marc!” Steven strides towards you and is back on the bed in moments. He bunches you up with the sheets and pulls you into his lap sideways. “ I’m not breaking up with you

Love, I just have something I need to talk to you about and I am a bit nervous.” You look up at him with tears brimming your eyelids and you can all but see his heartbreak.

He cradles your head and kisses you slowly as if it’s your first time. “This is not at all how I wanted this conversation to go.” He stands from the bed with you still in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He gently sets you down on the toilet as he begins to draw a bath. You can’t help but admire his arms and his broad back as he leans over to test the temperature of the water. He places your favorite lavender bath bomb and chamomile bubble bath in before unraveling you from the sheets and helping you into the bath. You’re enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling as he finds his place behind you pulling your back into his chest.

“I’m just gonna start and I don’t want you to say anything until I let you know I’m done.” You nod your head and you’re thankful you’re not facing him as the tears begin to well again.

“Layla has…really enjoyed your company lately when we’re out.” He pauses and tightens his grip around your waist. “She said it helps her not worry about us so much.”

“I enjoy her company to Steven.” You know he told you not to speak yet but you figured he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“She’s actually grown quite fond of you and thought that you might feel the same about her.”

A long silence passes between you and all you can hear are the ragged breaths of Steven and the crackling of the bubbles. You don’t think Stevens even realized that he hasn’t said he’s done speaking and is waiting for you to respond.

“Of course if you don’t feel the same then we don’t need to mention it again, I’m sorry I even brought it up. It's just that Marc pressed on about it…and actually he’s quite fond of you too and well that’s besides the point…I don’t even know what I’m saying any…”

You turn in the bath and stop his rambling with a kiss to his lips as you cradle his face in both hands.

You rise in the water so you can settle yourself in his lap. You lean in to kiss him again and he parts his lips to let your tongue slide in. This slow languid movements leave you both breathless as you pull away for air and can’t help but giggle at his face covered in bubbles.

“I thought Layla had grown sick of this situation and wanted you to end things with me.” He begins to say something but you place a finger on his lips, prompting him to wait just as you had.

“I am still getting to know Marc and Jake but obviously I can’t help but be attracted to someone who looks like my boyfriend.” You know Steven would accept all parts of you but it still made you nervous to open up to him.

“Steven…I’ve been with women before you, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I’ve grown to like Layla a lot and I wasn’t sure how to come to terms with my feelings.” Steven releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“That’s wonderful love…Layla was quite nervous that you wouldn’t feel the same and she didn’t want to pressure you.” Steven is beaming up at you as if you’ve presented him a million dollar grant to research Egyptian mythology. “You know I love and accept you for who you are.”

You’re suddenly feeling exposed as the bubbles dissipate and your mind starts wandering. What does this mean? What does she want? He said something about Marc. Would Jake be involved? Would Steven be upset?

He can see you spiraling before his eyes. “Talk to me love.” He starts rubbing soothing circles on your arms.

“Where do we go from here?” You don’t even recognize your voice as you look anywhere but his eyes. He grabs your chin with his forefinger and thumb and pulls you into a chaste kiss.

“Whatever you want to do we will do…no

pressure.We all want you and what’s best for you, as long as you’re safe and happy that’s all we care about.” You wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug, feeling this most content you have in years.

Nice job hermaño, I knew you could do it.

***

Friday

You’ve never been this nervous before to just have dinner with Layla. This was something you did every week while the boys were out but this time felt different. You’ve torn your room apart looking for the right thing to wear, finally opting for a simple blue babydoll dress with a flowy skirt. You wear your hair in its natural state and put on some light makeup to complete the look.

It’s just dinner, relax

You’re standing in front of the door of their shared flat trying to calm your nerves as you smooth down the front on your skirt. You can already smell the wonderful aroma wafting under the door as you begin to knock. Layla opens the door and pulls you into a hug but you’re apprehensive to hug her back act normal.

“Hey hon, come on in, I'm just finishing up the pizza.” You enter the flat and set the bottle of red wine you brought on the counter and take in the sight of delicious homemade pizza.

“I’m making Marc’s favorite for you, he insisted.” She looks up from placing the toppings to wink at you. Why did he insist?

“Oh…everything smells wonderful.” You’re standing nervously at the kitchen island fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I brought some wine,would you like me to pour you a glass?”

“I’d love some, you know where the glasses are.” She points absentmindedly to the cabinet behind her while she finishes topping the pizza. You pour two glasses for the both of you and once she places the pizza in the oven all attention is on you.

“How has work been? Steven said you’ve had to put in some late night shifts.” You’re staring at her wine stained lips and the curls that frame her face. How does she always look so effortlessly beautiful? She has an inquisitive look on her face and you realize you haven’t answered her.

“Umm…it’s been fine, I’m sure you know how much of a pain Donna can be.” You're focused on the wine in your glass instead of her piercing gaze.

“Hey…I can tell you’re nervous and I know Steven talked to you. Nothing has to change. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” It makes her heart swell noticing you’ve put more effort into your appearance than you normally do for your weekly dinner.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous…I care about you a lot and I want to do this right.” She takes your hand in hers and you finally look up and meet her eyes. Neither of you say anything, whatever is happening between you can go unspoken for now.

You both finally relax into a comfortable calm as you eat Pizza and finish the bottle of wine. As the night progresses it feels more and more like how things are supposed to be. Conversation flows freely as you both relax on the couch gossiping about work or sharing your thoughts about the boys.

“I know they look different but Marc and Steven both get that furrowed brow when they’re focused.” She shifts on the couch to face you mimicking that stern look they get. You burst into a fit of laughter at the accuracy.

“Okay but have you seen Jake's serious face?” You squint your eyes and muster up the best version of Jake that you can manage. She leans in close,her lips just a breath away.

“That face is much more adorable than Jake's.” Suddenly you're feeling hot,neither of you pulling away from your close proximity. The tension that’s been building for months is threatening to burst as you wait for her next move.

“Can I kiss you?” She’s practically touching your lips when she asks and you wish she would just do it but you know it’s in her nature to wait for you.

“Yes please.” In a moment her lips are on yours as her hands caress your neck and trail down your jaw. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, feverish in the way her lips slot against yours. She pulls away and you chase her lips with your eyes closed and lips parted trying to catch your breath.

She brushes her thumb along your bottom lip and looks at you as though you hold the world in your eyes. “Your lips are so soft.”

“Do it again please.” The desperation in your voice is unfamiliar but she doesn’t hesitate to oblige your request as her lips crash into yours, you part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in as you moan into her mouth. She pulls you slightly into her lap as you straddle her thigh. Your lips move in tandem as she grabs your waist. You can feel your panties soaked as she grinds your clit over her jeans.

“Sweetheart…you gonna come like this, I’ve barely touched you?” You’re a panting mess as your climax approaches and she doesn’t relent as she trails kisses down your neck,leaving love bites along the way. She moves one hand from your waist and slowly starts trailing your inner thigh. Her fingers dance along the hem of your underwear almost reaching where you need it the most.

The floorboard creaks and you both halt your movements. You look up from the couch and see Mr. Knight standing near the window, the moon still illuminating him in his stark white suit. He’s masked and you can’t see the expression on his face but his chest is heaving and you can’t help but notice the growing bulge in the front of his pants.

You slide off Layla suddenly embarrassed at the state she had you in. She grabs your hand before you can stand and sends you a reassuring squeeze.

“Steven…care to join?” She says in this sweet honey tone. Yet he doesn’t falter, as if he’s frozen to the spot.

Steven move your goddamn feet or I’m taking over the body.

Snapped from his trance Steven begins to walk towards the couch. He takes a seat beside you so that you're situated in between them. He’s yet to reveal his face but his demeanor is definitely your Steven as he begins rubbing soothing circles on your thighs. The combined touch of their hands is all too real and this is territory you’ve never covered before.

“Are you okay with this Love?” Steven is always the observer making sure that this is truly what you want. You slowly nod your head.

“I need you to use your words honey.” You turn your head to Layla and the pet name she’s used many times before holds more weight in this moment.

“Yes this is okay…as long as Steven is…”

“Yes I’m great love this is perfectly alright.”He cuts you off before you can finish. You can’t help but giggle at his sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Steven…why don’t you give her a kiss to calm her nerves.” Steven grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently tilts your face to him. He withdraws his mask and you can see his pupils blown wide. He kisses you softly as though it’s just the two of you in the room. Two sets of hands are on you as Layla leans against your back leaving hot kisses along your neck.

A soft hand trails up your inner thigh as another cups your breast over your dress. You kiss and bite at Stevens neck as you palm his erection through his pants. He whimpers in your ear as he bucks his hips into your hand. A soft finger pulls your panties to the side and rubs along your slick folds. You drop your head to Stevens shoulder gripping his arms for purchase. She dips two fingers dip into your entrance and you whine into his neck as you begin to rock your hips.

“You’re doing so good for us sweetie.” Layla coos in your ear. She withdraws her fingers from you and you whine at the loss. She holds her fingers up to Stevens lips and taps on them lightly, he takes both fingers in his mouth never breaking eye contact as rolls his tongue around coming off with a loud pop.

“Tastes so good love…why don’t you let her have a taste hmm.” Your brain is short circuiting at the sight. “Yes.” It’s all you can manage with your voice barely above a whisper.

“I think the bed would be better for that…don’t you think?” She says as she takes your hand to stand. Your body is no longer in your control, you can’t feel your legs beneath you but you know you’re moving towards the bedroom. Layla at your front and Steven close behind.

Steven retracts his suit and begins to undress when you enter the room. Leaving him only in his boxers, you can see the strain of his cock against the fabric where a wet spot has formed.

“I think you two are a bit overdressed.” He stands at your back pulling your straps down your shoulders letting your dress fall to the floor revealing your green matching lace set. He moves behind Layla pulling her shirt over her head as you work on the button of her jeans. He slides down her pants and kisses her shoulder when he stands.

This is so not fair

Callate pendejo

Steven does his best to block out the sounds of his head mates but doesn’t shut them off completely. He wants them to see this.

“Lay down against the pillows Steven.” He lays down on the bed with his legs spread wide and his hands at his side. She directs you to lay against him facing her while she sits between your legs. You're shaking from the anticipation and he begins rubbing soothing lines up and down your arms giving you goosebumps. She grabs the hem of your underwear and gently lifts your hips to slide them down.

“Is she always this wet for you?” She smirks at him as she drops her head down between your legs, licking a stripe through your slit. You arch your back at the sensation and Steven moans as you press further into his hard cock. He pulls your knees back to hold your legs open as she dips her tongue into your slick heat. Your whimpers and moans of her name are muffled as Steven swallows them with his mouth on yours.

“She does taste good.” She rocks back on her heels and pulls you up into a kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips as she dips her tongue into your mouth. You start to slide your hand beneath the band of her panties but she stops you.

“Tonight is about you sweetheart.” She’s definitely in control and you decide not to push. “Take off your boxers.” Steven practically rips them trying to get them off as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it so big, the angry red tip leaking precum all over his stomach.

She coaxes you back to lean against him and grabs the base of his cock causing him to gasp. She drags the tip along your dripping folds and Steven lifts you slightly as he guides you down onto him.

“Oh fuck…Steven it’s too much.” He’s not even all the way in and from this angle he’s hitting something devastating inside you. “Shhh love you can take it just relax.” Your cunt flutters around his thick cock causing a guttural moan from him. She straddles you both and you sink to the hilt. She places her hands on Stevens chest as she rides you grinding her hips into yours. Your mind has gone numb as she fucks you into Steven, each roll of her hips catches on your clit and slides you up and down his length.

“M’so close.” Steven chokes out from behind you as his grip tightens on your hips and his pelvis bucks slightly. She reaches between your bodies and begins rubbing tight circles on your clit as she leans in close and kisses Steven. He picks up his pace slamming you down on his cock over and over as he arches his back lifting the both of you.

“Right. There. Please . Don’t. Stop.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust and you come undone; she grabs your face, pulling you into an awkward three way kiss. Every nerve in your body is alight as she doesn’t let up on your clit, you don’t know if this is the same orgasm or a second that has tears streaming down your face. You clench down on him as he comes with a loud groan shooting hot ropes of cum into your core.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” She kisses you deep as you try to control your cries and aftershocks.

As you come down from your high you realize you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your side facing Steven as Layla plants small kisses on the small of your back. Steven places a soft kiss to your sweat soaked forehead and rolls out of bed.

“I’ll be right back love.” He retreats to the bathroom as you hear the water running.

You turn to face Layla and she can see the worry on your face. “What’s wrong hon? Was this too much?”

“No it’s not that it’s just…you didn’t get very much attention and I feel bad.” She grabs your neck and pulls you into a soft kiss.

“There’s always next time.”

Next time

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Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

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