#imagine marc spector

[theartofimagining13]

Imagine:

Loki and Steven agree to work together just to save you but Loki soon regrets it because Steven gets on his nerves every five minutes.

[bored-mumma]

The Transfer - Steven Grant X Reader

Summary: Working at the British Museums has its upsides. Not today though. Thanks to lack of staff, you would have to pull a shift in a different gift-shop with co-workers you didn’t know.

Words: 2497

Warnings: None except not beta read.

Notes: This was originally a different story entirely, but my brain decided we wanted a first meeting fic. Maybe a chapter two to this but not too sure.

MASTERLIST

Nervousness was not a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling this morning. You picked at your nails as you sat on the underground, barely paying attention to what stop you were at as you thought about everything that could possibly go wrong today. You worked at the British Museum in the Greece and Rome department, which sounds fancy, but you just worked in the gift shop, selling things that had nothing to do with Greece or Rome. But you loved it for the most part, doing things like talking to the tour guides about the exhibit and chatting to the customers. Although being a ‘gift-shoppist’ wasn’t your career goal, you felt like it was a good steppingstone to becoming a tour guide as well. It was a passion of yours that you always rambled on about so the thought of actually being paid to drag people around and talk about your interests sounds bloody amazing to you.

Today though, you were being transferred to a different shop at the museum. Apparently, the manager at the Egyptology department wasn’t the nicest person to exist and a few staff members had quit meaning the other departments had to send down a few spares. And today was finally your turn.

You knew nothing at all about Egyptology and you certainly did not want to spend much time around Donna. You had crossed her path once or twice in the staff room but never had the pleasure of talking to her. Though the way she spoke to some other people definitely made you steer clear each time you saw her. You didn’t know anyone else at that shop either and you weren’t really the most confident person when meeting new people. Spending a day in an exhibit about stuff you don’t have much interest in, surrounded by people you didn’t know and being bossed about by Donna did not sound like a fun away to spend your Friday. It was just one day though… you could survive for one day, right?

Putting up your umbrella, you left the station and started the five-minute walk to the museum. Greeting JB (Who barely looked up from his phone when he replied), your body automatically made its way to the Greece and Rome exhibit, and you had to mentally steer yourself in the other direction. A tight smile made its way onto your lips as you saw Donna standing behind the till, a sour look on her face as she checked her watch.

“Morning Donna!” You tried to sound all cheery, but it came out sounding extremely fake. Donna looked up at you, chewing her gum and staring for a moment as if to think about why you’re stood in front of her.

“Stevens late again. You’ll be by yourself for a bit.” She slid a basket of keyrings and postcards towards you and a smaller box with price tags on it. “Start with these. We’re pretty far behind so need you to work fast today.” Looking at her watch again and rolling her eyes, Donna made her way to the storage rooms, leaving you to dump your bag under the desk and try to figure out which price tags went on which object. Thankfully it was pretty simple work.

The next hour went by pretty quickly. You served a couple of customers, giving them your classic sales techniques that your manager taught you to try and shift some of the older stock. Some of the customers asked you questions, and you managed to direct them towards tour guides so you didn’t have to try and think of the right answer – something you definitely couldn’t do. Thankfully though, you were saved when someone asked you whose tomb was on the front of one of the postcards. You looked between the woman and the card, racking your brain for the answer but before you could, a male voice answered for you.

“The golden mask of Tutankhamun. Not a tomb, the tomb is the burial area. Like the grave.” You looked over and saw who your colleague for the day must be. Donna did say his name earlier though you couldn’t remember it. Stanley maybe?  He quickly shoved his bag by yours under the desk and continue to talk to the customer about the golden mask and you were thankful there was finally someone else there to take the questions. You gave him a quick look over as you started to tidy up the teddies some kids had messed up. He looked absolutely shattered – dark circles around his sunken eyes, clothes a little dishevelled and his hair looked like he ran his hands through it rather than a brush. He seemed nice though. The way he seemed to happily answer some customers questions, smiling as he did so, made you thankful you’ll be working with someone who seemed pretty welcoming.

“How many times have I told you, you’re not the bloody tour guide, Stevie.” Donna snapped when the customers finally walked away.

“Steven, actually. Steven.” He pointed to his name badge as he pinned it to his shirt. Ah so he has a name. You kept your head down as you didn’t want any remarks from Donna aimed at yourself.

“No, you’re bloody useless unless you’re doing what you’re paid to do.” She picked up a basket and slid it towards Steven. “Which is to sell these to children.”

“Got it.” He replied, taking the basket towards him and flipping through the products. Donna rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving you and Steven alone.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You said, smiling towards Steven. He almost jumped, forgetting there was someone working with him today. He looked over at you with wide eyes before they settled to a nice smile.

“Steven.” He held his hand out for you to shake. You opened your mouth to start a friendly conversation when a lady came over wearing a tour guide badge. You busied yourself as they spoke, saying something about a date that sounded like Steven didn’t even know he had. His excited look faded when Donna came along again, teasing about what he would eat on the date. You tried not to snigger when Steven made a sarcastic remark back. You were honestly just trying to blend into the background, just wanting to get the day done and finished so you can get back to working with your friends on Monday.

The rest of the morning went by pretty quickly. You and Steven spoke to each other a little, but things were a bit awkward. He wasn’t a big talker by the looks of things except when you admitted you didn’t know a lot about Egyptology. Oh my god, did he talk your ear off then. You had to admit, you enjoyed when he lectured you about the mummification process and he was definitely someone you were grateful to work with. At mid-day, Donna took over the shop before sending you and Steven down to the storage rooms to do some inventory. She ushered you both away, saying you could have your lunch as you worked down there. Working through your lunch wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do but part of you was happy to be chilling with Steven. You were sure you were going to get some more lectures whilst down there and you had to admit, you were kind of looking forward to it.

“Like, I don’t want to slag off marketing, but the posters only have seven Gods when the Ennead had nine.” Steven pointed to the posters, naming all seven Gods present and then telling you which two were missing. You nodded along slowly as you scanned the sweets in front of you, honestly having no idea what he was talking about but enjoying listening to him none-the-less. “I told Donna about it… Don’t think she was very interested.” He gave a nervous chuckle. Steven was in the corner of the room, still holding up the poster of the Ennead, looking at it with an unimpressed look. Before you could reply, he quickly turned around to look at you, eyebrows furrowed as if in thought. “Sorry!” He said quickly.

“For what?” You tilted your head, honestly confused.

“I’ve been talking your ear off and not actually helping.” Steven grabbed a box of hippo teddies (which he had previously informed you was the Goddess Taweret) and stood next to you as he began to scan. “Just tell me to be quiet whenever I talk too much. I get carried away sometimes.” He laughed. He was right, he had been talking your ear off the entire thirty minutes you had already been down here, and he hadn’t scanned a single thing yet. His lunch was also sat in his bag, still untouched. But you weren’t complaining.

“No, no don’t apologise. It's interesting actually. I have the same reaction when talking about Greek myths and Gods.” You stopped scanning and looked up at Steven who was standing next to you at the table, which was a little small making your arms brush against each other sometimes. “You make something I’m not overly interested sound pretty fascinating.” You smirked when you saw a little blush creep on his face as his eyes met yours. “But If you could tell me more about it whilst we actually did our work, that would be great.”

“Maybe I could work a day in your department, and you can talk my ear off.” He said with a lopsided smile. You don’t know why but the thought of spending another day with Steven made you ridiculously happy. He was unusual to say the least. Your usual colleagues were all extremely professional but were obviously there just for the job, not for the passion. Steven on the other hand radiated love for what he spoke about. You had to admit, at first, he wasn’t anything special to look at but the more time you spent with him and the more comfortable you both became around each other, the better looking he got.

“We should hurry up. Don’t really fancy getting chewed out again.” You ignored his suggestion of coming to work with you and continued to scan some items. You had loads left and Donna said you only had an hour to do it in. A comfortable silence enveloped you both for a little while as you worked. It was crazy how at ease you felt in his space. He was a calming presence. “How come you work in the gift shop anyway? If you know so much about all this,” You gestured vaguely to the stuff in the room. “And you clearly love it. Why are you stuck with me behind a desk?” Steven stopped what he was doing and looked around the room as if to give himself a second to think of how to explain the answer. You watched as his face dropped slightly before he looked back to you.

“Donna just says no.” He shrugs a little, giving no other reasons and goes back to work. Ah, touchy subject to talk about, you noted.

“You coming, Steven?” You asked, slinging your bag on your shoulder as you both closed up shop for the day. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were kind of gutted. You had really enjoyed your day and it was all thanks to the awkward man stood in front of you. You two hit it off pretty well and by the time the shop closed, you would consider him more of a friend than a co-worker. “Some of us staff are going to the Kings Head for a drink.” You offered, not sure if Steven was invited since he initially gave you a confused look.

“Oh.” He grabbed his bag as he started to follow you towards the museum exit. “No, probably not. I have to phone my mum, feed my goldfish…” He trailed off as in lost in thought. You wanted to tell him how you thought that was the sweetest answer he could have given but you bit your tongue. The walk to the exit was short and as you both said goodnight to J.B, Steven correcting him when J.B called him Scottie, you weren’t really sure how to say goodnight. You both stood outside for a moment, your brain going a mile a minute on trying to find something to say but Steven beat you to it. “Well… See you around.” He said with a smile. You returned the gesture and said your goodnights before starting to head towards the pub. You had barely walked a couple meters before you heard Steven call after you again. “Actually, Y/N!” You turned to see him walking your way, his hands tucked into his sleeves as he picked the threads off the ends. “If I was stop by your shop on Monday at around lunch time…” He trailed off again, eyes bouncing between looking at his hands and looking at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised, he must have enjoyed your company just as much as you enjoyed his.

“I’ll be there.” You tried to not let the smile on your face grow too big as you answered. He was endearing, you had to admit. Not the usual guy you would go for in the slightest but there was just something about him. Although, you weren’t sure if it was a ‘I liked our day and think of you as a good friend now and maybe we can start hanging out more at work’ type lunch or ‘I think you’re attractive and I want to see more of you and maybe later, ask you out on a proper date’ type lunch but either way, you were excited.

“Oh!” Stevens picking at the threads got worse but at least he was solely looking at you now. “I’ll see you Monday then. Laters, gators.” He waved a goodbye to you again and once again; you returned the gesture. Once you were safely facing the opposite direction, you allowed the grin on your face to widen, your heart literally skipping a beat. You felt a bit silly feeling like this, but you couldn’t help it if you tried. That was, until you remembered the conversation you had overheard him have earlier… About the date at the steakhouse with the beautiful tour guide. A date… Ok, so maybe it was just a friend thing then. The smile on your face fell quickly as a knotting feeling started in your stomach. You were far too gutted to only be friends with a man you’ve known for literally 8 hours.

[thatboisus]

maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk

[purple-1995]

[luvrxbunny]

he offers to take his gf’s virginity but cums too fast because he underestimated how good she’d feel

random guys i love under 🤭

this wasnt supposed to be so long but I'm ovulating so

includes: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Joel Miller, Bucky Barnes, and Miguel O'Hara

eddie munson - 0.2k

he’d be super cocky abt it. he’d tell you about how good he’ll make you feel, how you’re gonna be crying on his cock, that he’s gonna stretch you so wide that you’ll be able to feel it for weeks after. He has it all planned out in his head too, how slowly he’ll work himself in, how he’ll fuck you for hours and you’d love it.

but he’s got half his dick in you and he’s already throbbing.

your eyes are on his but they keep unfocusing and crossing as he works his way in. he has to turn away from you to stop himself from cumming as you whine about how big he is. he’s frozen inside you for a while, you’re gripping his arms, begging him to keep pushing into you and he had to cover your mouth to shut you up as his dick starts to twitch inside you.

he pushes himself in fully and immediately cums at your shouting moan from under his hand. he’s burying his face in your neck and grunting into your neck angrily as his hips uncontrollably twitch into your unbelievably warm pussy.

afterward, he’s angry at himself and a little distant from you cus he’s embarrassed asf but you comfort the shit out of him and guarantee that you loved it

steve harrington - 0.2k

he's almost as nervous as you are, he hasn’t had sex in a little while because he’s been with you, and he’s never had sex with someone he loves so he doesn’t know if it’s different.

he tries to eat you out, getting a few licks in before you pull him back up and tell him you already stretched yourself. he feels his cock twitch in his pants at the words, at the mental image and he needs you. it takes a while for him to fully enter you because he’s fucking huge.

you keep whining at him every other second, pressing your hand to his pelvis to stop him from sliding in because it hurts too much. he feels bad, ofc he does… but you’re so tight he can barely breathe. his eyes are shut as tight as possible and his hands are crushing your hip bones until you're whimpering at him for more.

you're finally able to take all of him and he’s cumming. he’s looking right at you, a hand in his hair and a look of complete shock on his face as his orgasm ripples through him, prolonged by your frantic grinding and his erratic thrusts.

he's thoroughly embarrassed afterward and tries to explain to you that it’s cus he’s “never been with anyone who felt as good as you”, that in the sea of women he's been with he's “never felt anyone as warm, wet, or soft as you.” he fingers you as an apology, letting you cum in his lap as many times as you'd like.

marc spector - 0.2k

he actually doesn’t really want to. he thinks it’s too important for you to give it to him, he doesn’t deserve it and all his martyrdom but you’re able to convince him to do it for you.

he eats you out first, to open you up a bit and to calm his nerves before actually getting to it.

you’re on top so you can control the pace a bit more, his hands on your hips in case your legs give out. the position is already a little too arousing for him, then with the added thought that you trust him enough to give him your virginity is messing with his head.

he’s louder than usual from the start, eyes already fluttering shut when all you’ve taken is his tip. his hands are shaking where they rest on your hips and repeated curses fall from his mouth. he starts rambling filthy words and praises by the time you’re halfway down and by the hilt, he’s begging you to let him fuck into you before he cums.

he’s frantic with his thrusts after you nod at him but he only gets maybe three full thrusts in before he’s stuttering and apologizing as he empties his balls into you.

he’s angry at himself and distant afterward, feeling like he’s ruined your first time and being dramatic asf. talking about maybe he’s just not good enough for you and yadayada but you convince him otherwise ofc.

steven grant - 0.2k

he’s flustered and so honored. he plans a whole thing, a whole date beforehand, and gets your room all prettied up for when he takes you to bed. it’s super romantic, he's poured his heart into the whole ordeal.

he’s super soft w you, very slow. he fingers you first which is probably where he went wrong, he was throbbing in his pants the whole time. your moans and begs for him to just ‘put it in already’ have his head spinning.

you end up more desperate than he is and you take him much much faster than he had anticipated.

he basically slides right in. his eyes cross once his hips press into yours and you can hear him muttering random things; begs with himself not to cum, random facts that he’s rattling off in an attempt to distract himself but it doesn’t work.

you squeeze down on him at the whole scene, his hot breath on your ears and he whimpers your name pathetically as he fills you to the brim, more cum than he’s ever produced, spilling out of you and soaking the sheets.

he apologizes profusely for about an hour and promises that you guys will re-do everything. he fingers you again afterward, wanting to make you cum. he’s whispering apologies and praises in your ear the whole time.

joel miller - 0.3k

he doesn’t want to, thinks he’s corrupting you and he doesn’t deserve it blah blah. but once you convince him he couldn’t be more honored. he’s doting on you the whole week leading up to it, making sure you feel comfortable, constantly letting you know it’s okay to change your mind. you never do.

he’s so nervous when the day comes, timid with you throughout the whole day, checking up on you every hour until nightfall.

he fingers you slowly, languidly, working you up gently and helping you fall into a comfortable, relaxing orgasm that opens you up to him. he wound himself way too tight in the process. listening to your sweet, soft moans of his name, feeling your frantic hand grip any part of him you can hold, seeing that loving, thankful look in your eyes as you fall over the edge, almost dragging him with you.

you’re too much for him from the second he’s inside you. too wet, too warm, too tight, and too fucking perfect. you’re taking him insanely well, he’s working himself in faster than even he can handle and you’re still begging him for more.

he stops 3/4 of the way because he’s pulsating. he’s holding you down, pressing your hips into the bed because you won’t stop grinding on him. it doesn’t help much because now you’re just moaning, whining, and whimpering his name on repeat. he starts muttering for you to be quiet, to stop saying his name like that but it just has you fluttering on his cock, coaxing his cum from the tip.

he’s grunting out blame on you as he cums like; “i told ‘ya to shut it” and “i fuckin’ tried, baby” he continues to blame you afterward telling you that he’s an old man and you’re too sweet for him. he’s embarrassed but tries not to show it, burying himself between your legs instead. he makes you cum two more times as an apology.

bucky barnes - 0.5k

he can’t even believe that you’re a virgin, let alone the idea that you want him to change that. he’s a bitch abt it ofc, much like joel. denying it at first, trying to get you to change your mind but feeling incredibly special when you don’t.

he hasn’t been with anyone since being iced so he’s basically a virgin as well. he can remember some things but is very scared that women don’t even like the things he knows anymore.

he jerks himself off through the whole day. he’s rendered useless with the thought that he’ll be taking your virginity tonight. he can't stop thinking about how pretty you'll look on his cock, moaning for him, screaming and cumming for him.

he’s already hard from the moment you come home but tries to pretend he isn’t, tries to pretend that he hasn’t been thinking about making love to you since he woke up but you know him. you decide to take him as soon as you get in, right there in the living room, on the couch.

he’s stuttering at you to stop, that you guys should go to the room, take it slower, and so on but he’s doing nothing to stop you, actually he’s helping you pull your pants off as he says it. he’s already leaking onto his thighs when you take his boxers off.

you position yourself over his cock and his breathing is already speeding up and stuttering. you take a little while to get him in, having to adjust to his girth, and moaning about how good he feels the whole way down. his eyes roll back and his metal arm groans with how hard he’s gripping the armrest, leaving indents in the wood underneath.

your hands are in his hair as you grind on him and his head is thrown back. he’s moaning your name and incoherent praises as his stomach tenses rhythmically, his thighs shake and his mumbles become a bit more frantic. he holds his head back up to make eye contact with you and he mutters out that he 'can’t', that 'you’re gonna make him cum' and he 'can’t hold it.' you can see the desperation in his eyes, the honest panic in his voice and it makes heat pool in your belly as you pussy chokes him.

he fills you. pumping rope after rope after rope of cum inside you and moaning like a slut. his hips thrust into you so forcefully that you fall forward onto his chest, feeling the breath from his moans on your ear. he's barely enjoying it, too distracted by the embarrassment that is flooding his body... until you’re squeezing his dick like a vice and moaning his name. his eyes roll back again with a guttural moan, ripped from his chest as he feels a fresh load shoots into your trembling pussy.

he’s still embarrassed after though. that he came before you AND he came twice while you only came once but you assure him it was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed

miguel o'hara - 0.5k

he would take forever to accept. he'd tell you that it's too precious for you to give to him, that you should save it for someone more deserving but you want him so he caves.

he tried to treat the day like any other but he gets hard every time he looks at you, visions of you all laid out and pretty for him, his thick cock abusing your poor virgin pussy as you whine for him. he cannot get the thought out of his head, no matter what he tries to distract himself with.

so when he's working you open, fucking you as gently as he can. it's not as romantic as he would've hoped, you're laying stomach down across his lap as he fingers you but it's only because you wouldn't stop moaning in his face when you were straddling him. he couldn't handle it.

you're doing the same thing now though. it's just how he imagined except he's not fucking you, he's got maybe half his dick in you and you're already moaning and writhing under him. begging him for more, telling him how happy you are, and that it feels 'so fucking good'.

his arms begin to shake, unable to hold himself up with how weak you're making him. you keep clenching on him, he keeps asking you to stop and you respond with a helpless "I c-can't help it." that has him twitching inside you. he tries to think about something- anything other than how you're sucking him in. he's almost to the hilt and your hips are lifting off the bed, trying to take more of him.

he lets you. watching as you moan at the way he slides in, rubbing along your sensitive walls. he watches you look down at where you both meet, where your pussy is absolutely devouring him, he watches your mouth drop open in a silent moan and your eyes trail up to meet his before rolling back into your head as you collapse back onto the bed. he can't handle it.

he's groaning- pulling your hips to him, forcing himself deeper as he fills you up- before you even hit the pillows. his breathing becomes erratic as he thrusts into you, every muscle tensed and shaking. he can't seem to shut up either, he's moaning your name out more often than he's breathing. he can hear you whining in response, and he can see you playing with your clit and it makes it worse.

he doubles down and fucks you through his orgasm, ignoring the painful pleasure that shoots through him from his cock in favor of making you cum. he keeps going until you've cum around him twice and he's released a monstrous amount of cum into you.

he's embarrassed and guilty after. he wishes he hadn't cum before you and feels like it was all too much for your first time. he doesn't stop apologizing for the rest of the night, no matter how many times you tell him that you loved it, that it was more perfect than you could've imagined. he only shuts up when you beg him for it again next week.

[mgparker]

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour. 

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you. 

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders. 

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you. 

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about. 

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look. 

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone. 

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly. 

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh. 

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon. 

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met. 

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before. 

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again. 

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table. 

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.  

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits. 

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question. 

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure. 

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.” 

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time. 

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes. 

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it. 

Not that you wanted to. 

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment-- 

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours. 

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed. 

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way. 

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week. 

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace. 

Acceptance. 

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch. 

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys. 

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy. 

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you. 

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god. 

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar. 

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity. 

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you. 

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it. 

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back. 

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you. 

“What does that even mean?” You groaned. 

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under. 

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly. 

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all. 

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well. 

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

[projectionistwrites]

Literally would read any moon knight smut from you 🥵 can I request something with the boys having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it is most in Marc’s character but tbh I’m not particular heh

sorry this took so long hehe i hope you like it <3

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

Marc Spector x afab!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x reader) (2.2k)

Marc Spector didn’t fancy himself a jealous man—but you knew exactly how to push his buttons.

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ mdni) WARNINGS: arguing, jealousy, SMUT (oral (f! and m! receiving), degradation, a bit of choking, facefucking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mean!dom!marc)

It was an accident, really—you hadn’t meant for it to slip out. And yet, there wasn’t a single part of you that felt bad about it.

Marc had already been in a bad mood when he’d woken up that morning, sulking and brooding and generally unpleasant to be around. When you’d asked him what was wrong, he’d brushed you off, insisting he was just tired and had a headache. You knew better than to believe him.

Truthfully, you had a suspicion that Marc had been feeling neglected. After he’d introduced you to Steven several weeks ago, the two of you had been inseparable—you and Marc had been dating for a year and half, so getting to know Steven was like the honeymoon phase all over again. He was sweet, and gentle, and shy, and many other things that Marc simply wasn’t. The contrast excited you, but you could tell that the puppy love between you and Steven had begun to take a toll on Marc.

When you’d gotten home from work today, you had planned on offering to cook a nice meal for you and Marc in an attempt to smooth things over and ease his worried mind, but he clearly was in no mood for reconciliation.

“Honey, I’m hooome.”

You sing-songed jokingly as you walked in the door, keys jingling in the lock. When you received no response, your joviality quickly dissipated and a deep frown etched itself into your face.

“Hello?”

You called again, brows furrowed in confusion. You took a few steps into the apartment, hanging your bag on the coatrack and slipping your shoes from your feet. Again, silence.

You went to turn the corner towards where the bedroom side of the studio apartment was, but quickly collided with a warm body as you rounded the bookshelf.

“Jesus fuck!”

You yelped as a hand came out to steady your shoulder, saving you from stumbling backwards on impact.

“You scared me....”

You hesitated, looking up at the man before you cautiously. The scrunch between his brows and hardness in his brown eyes quickly confirmed your suspicions.

“...Marc.”

Marc mistook your brief moment of pause as disappointment, and he sneered, releasing your arm with a small shove and sidestepping you.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”

You blinked a few times in disbelief, frozen in place as his words took a moment to sink in. When they finally did, you were left reeling, whirling around to face his retreating figure with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Marc huffed angrily, nostrils flaring as he threw himself onto the couch, a hand reaching up to run through his dark hair.

“I said, sorry to disappoint. I’m sure you’d much rather have Steven greeting you when you get home.”

“I never said that.”

You scoffed, approaching him slowly with your arms crossed over your chest. His brown eyes darted up to your face, his lips curled into a scowl.

“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Where is this coming from, Marc?”

It was a stupid question—both of you knew the answer already. Marc’s nostrils flared as he averted his gaze from you, sulking silently and staring off at some point in the distance.

A pang of guilt accompanied the sigh that fell from your lips as you noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and you made your way to the empty spot next to him.

“Hey.”

You started gently, letting your hand trace across the veins of his forearm before your slid your fingers between his own.

“I’m sorry, Marc. I know—I know things have been moving pretty fast between me and Steven, and I know I haven’t made as much time for you as I should have. I’m sorry.”

You leaned into him, head ducking slightly in an attempt to catch his gaze with your own. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he drew in a long, deep inhalation, before he finally opened them again and fixed them on you.

“No, it’s—it’s okay, baby. I’m glad you and Steven are getting along, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen. And I’m sorry I—I freaked out. Just—miss you, s’all.”

He confessed, a slight blush creeping up his neck and ruddying his cheeks. Marc wasn’t often open about his feelings, so the brief moment of vulnerability was significant. You smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush your fingers through his soft curls.

“Why didn’t you just say so, huh, handsome?”

A smirk quickly made its way across his lips at the insinuation in your tone, his arms swiftly wrapping around your body to haul you up onto his lap and into a searing kiss.

It wasn’t until you were seconds away from an orgasm, Marc’s face buried between your thighs, that you’d fucked up.

“Shit, shit—”

You cried, fisting at the sheets on either side of you as Marc’s tongue swirled over your clit, two of his thick fingers buried in your weeping cunt.

“Oh, God, yes, m’gonna cum, gonna—ahh, fuck, don’t stop, yes, Steven, fuu—”

Your hips lurched off the bed when the stimulation abruptly ceased, your eyes shooting open in alarm only to come face-to-face with Marc’s hardened expression, his lips still shining with your slick.

“Fuck, why’d you—?”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He interrupted your whiny plea with his threatening words, growled lowly as his eyes narrowed at you. Your rapid heartrate only sped up when you thought back on your pleasured cries, quickly realizing your mistake. You bolted upright in an instant, your eyes wide and panicked, reaching to grip Marc’s bare shoulders.

“Oh, Marc, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He pulled away from you, rising to his knees on the bed so he loomed over you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your breath stuttered.

“What?”

You yelped when Marc lunged forward, his hand coming to twist in your hair to yank you harshly forward so you were face to face.

“I said,”

he growled, his breath hot on your face and fingers taut in your hair,

“get on your fucking knees.”

He released you with a rough shove and you scrambled off the bed onto your knees, quickly obeying his order. You watched as he slipped off his last remaining layer of clothing before he slowly made his way over to you, his figure towering over you with intimidation and malice. Excitement was beginning to swirl in the pit of your stomach—you’d never seen Marc so angry before, so domineering and unhinged. Still, a small pang of guilt shot through you at your earlier mistake.

“Marc, really, I’m so sorry—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He snapped, and you immediately obliged, eyes blowing wide at the sternness in his tone. His chest was heaving with labored breaths and his nostrils were flared, eyes alight with fury.

“You just don’t know when to stop fucking talking.”

He was right in front of you, now, languidly stroking his hardened length inches away from your face, precum beading at the slit. He reached forward and roughly grabbed your jaw in his other hand, fingers curling to squeeze your cheeks.

“You wanna keep moaning his name? Guess I’ll have to make you shut up.”

His hand migrated up and wrapped in your hair before yanking your neck back. When your lips parted with a surprised gasp, he immediately plunged his thick length into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat without warning. The sudden and abrupt intrusion caused you to gag harshly, and he pulled out only long enough for you to draw in a gasping breath before he thrusted forward again, sinking his cock all the way back into your throat and beginning a steady rhythm of fucking your face.

“Only way you’ll be quiet is if you’ve got a mouth full of dick, huh?”

He grunted, hips snapping forward. There was drool foaming at the sides of your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you forced yourself to sit back and let him use you, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat and his balls slapping noisily against your chin.

“Bet you miss him now, don’t you? Steven doesn’t treat you like this—doesn’t know how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at his words, reaching up to brace your hands on his muscular thighs in order to prevent them from reaching between your legs to touch yourself. You felt his arm reach down until his fingers curled around your neck, allowing him to feel each stroke of his cock down your throat.

“Fuck, baby—such a pretty little whore.”

Finally, finally, he pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva still connecting the tip of his ruddy cock to your swollen lips. You gasped harshly, letting the mixture of tears and drool drip from your chin as you gazed up and him with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Marc, thank you, I love you, I—”

Marc growled, his grip on your throat tightening and briefly cutting off your airflow.

“Shut. Up.”

He hissed, pulling you upwards with his hand on your neck and tossing you towards the bed. You fell backwards, immediately pliant beneath him as he reached to lift both of your ankles above your head before abruptly plunging his spit-soaked cock into your dripping folds.

A pornographic mewl escaped you at the feeling of him penetrating you, your hole still tight and unprepared for the thickness of his cock. The burn of the stretch was intoxicating, but you were quickly pulled away from the feeling when Marc’s fingers found your jaw again, squeezing your cheeks so your lips involuntarily parted.

“Open.”

He growled, and you obliged, allowing him to spit straight into your awaiting mouth. You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he kept railing into you, your mouth closing as his taste overwhelmed you.

“You don’t swallow until I tell you—you hear me?”

You nodded vigorously, eyes silently pleading as tears continued to stream down your face, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as Marc bared his teeth.

“Yeah, that outta wash his name outta your filthy fuckin’ mouth, huh?”

You could barely hear him over the static humming in your ears, an orgasm creeping up and washing over you without warning. You choked on your sob, desperately following Marc’s orders and keeping your mouth full of his saliva despite your desperation to cry out.

Marc felt you clench down on him, and his pace quickened.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby—you cum all over this cock.”

He leaned forward and sank his teeth into the flesh of your collarbone, licking and sucking bruises into your neck and up your throat. You lay helpless beneath him, body melting into the mattress as he continued to pound into you relentlessly, the sting of his lips hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

“Gonna keep you covered in these, baby—he’s never gonna forget who you fuckin’ belong to.”

He grunted in your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth briefly before sitting back up, shifting up onto his knees and wrapping your legs around his waist before jackhammering into you once again.

He reached forward a final time to wrap his hand around your throat, now covered with red and purple bruises in the shape of his mouth.

“Swallow.”

He panted, his eyes wild and pace faltering.

"Swallow, and tell me who you belong to.”

You swallowed the fluid the had gathered across your tongue and finally let out a salacious moan, back arching off the bed as a second orgasm began building in your abdomen. You could hardly even remember what had started this thing in the first place, and you definitely didn’t care—your entire existence was overwhelmed with Marc, Marc, Marc.

"You, Marc—belong to you."

You cried, and you felt his fingers curl into your neck as he leaned over you, the heat of his body absolutely smothering you as his free hand reached between you to circle your clit. You keened.

“Again. Louder. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Marc—fuck, fuck, Marc, I belong to you, fuck—"

Your climax peaked fiercely, white hot and blinding as your toes curled and your entire body trembled beneath him. The rhythmic clenching of your tight cunt around him had Marc following close behind, his release punctuated by a sharp yelp before he buried himself to the hilt, allowing his seed to fill you completely, offering a few more deep thrusts before stilling.

Marc’s tension-laden body immediately collapsed on top of you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as his cock stayed nestled inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his clammy torso, one hand stroking a soothing line down his spine and the other brushing through his hair, your lips planting a soft kiss to his forehead. His frantic exhales were hot against your neck.

“I mean it, Marc. I’m yours.”

You assured in a whisper, and Marc tilted his head up to look at you, his once cold eyes now softened with a familiar gentleness.

“I know, baby.”

He leaned up and pecked you on the lips.

“And now you’ll never forget it.”

You let out an airy giggle, sinking back into the comfortable and familiar weight of his body on yours. After a few moments, you bit your lip and gave him a mischievous smile.

“So...when do I get to meet Jake?”

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

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[spctrsgf]

morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this. 

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?” 

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

[flightlessangelwings]

My Knight in White

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 4.3k

Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n

About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

~

“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.

He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you. 

Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.

“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”

“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.

“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”

It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.

Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.

“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”

He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”

Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”

He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.

Too late.

You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.

“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”

The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”

The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.

“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.

“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.

Suddenly, your luck changed.

Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.

You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.

The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.

You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.

Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”

As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.

You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.

It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.

“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”

He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared. 

You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.

The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.

*

In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.

Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did. 

Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you… 

“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. 

You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed. 

He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.

Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”

“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”

The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”

Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.

You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”

“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”

Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…

“Marc…”

“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.  

Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him. 

But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off. 

Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.

“Marc?” your voice shook.

“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”

“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.

“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.

“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”

He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”

Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”

There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so. 

As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do. 

But that plan also quickly backfired. 

You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.

“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.

Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you. 

The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.

More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.

You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.

“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.

The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?” 

“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.

“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded. 

When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.

You ran. 

Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry. 

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.

And then you heard it.

Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”

You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms. 

The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear. 

“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.

“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.

“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.

The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.

“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.

“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”

Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.

This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.

Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”

Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”

Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.

You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.

“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.

“Please Marc,” you pleaded. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.

“Marc…”

He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”

“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Marc… I’m…”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.

Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.

He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.

Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

“Marc, I…”

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”

You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.

Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.” 

[theartofimagining13]

Imagine:

You and Loki were in a relationship a long time ago that he, of course, ended up ruining. Years later and, by a twist of fate, you have to work together alongside Marc Spector who’s very flirty with you. Loki’s annoyance is so obvious when he realizes that this is not a one sided thing and you’re actually very much into Marc as well. This all makes the job a hundred times more difficult. 

[bored-mumma]

Steven Grant - Smut Alphabet - NSFW

Steven Grant Fluff Alphabet - SFW

MASTERLIST

Under 18s - DNI

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Steven Grant is nothing less of a worshiper. Afterwards, he would whisper his praises to you as he holds onto you tightly, loving when you rest your head on his chest so you’re both enveloped in each other's warmth. After a while of just resting and chatting, he would suddenly remember to ask if you need anything or if he can do anything for you, always happy to grab you something to eat or run a bath if that's what you want.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)  

He has Marc to thank for it, but he definitely loves his arms. The way their strong enough to both man-handle you and yet also bring you so much comfort when he holds you. Steven isn’t exactly ‘rough’ but he will use his strength to push/pull you into positions. 

Steven wouldn’t like to admit he has a favourite part of you, always saying how just everything about you is perfect. But you both know he’s an ass man through-and-through. The way he’s always grabbing it and just lets his hands rest on it sometimes without him even realising it, definitely was a big give-away.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

It took him a little while to get fully comfortable with it and to admit his love it, but omg does this man love to come in your mouth. Don't misunderstand, he loves doing it anywhere on or in you but that's just his absolute favourite. And if it dribbles a little down the side your mouth whilst you swallow? He could just die right there and then from a heart attack - in the best way of course.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)  

Steven really wants you to edge him. Sometimes he’ll find himself edging himself, changing positions when he can feel himself getting a little too close. He’ll ask you eventually, and when he does finally ask you and you grant him his wish, he basically begs you to do that to him every single time. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced at all. As far as you were aware, there was only one woman before you and that didn’t last long. But that doesn’t stop him being the most intense lover you’ve ever had! He’ll ask questions, especially when learning how to give oral in the best possible way. Listening to every instruction until he’s got all of your favourite things memorised and can do it on his own.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Steven does love when you ride him. Just something about you looking like a complete Goddess, whilst having him at your mercy, does stuff to him. Though yes, Steven does sometimes also like to put in the dirty work and will be the one on top, he loves that too, but if he had to choose a position to do for the rest of his life it would be him sitting with his back on the headboard, knees bent with his soles on the mattress as you sat in his lap. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He does love a little joke here and there. He’s not goofy per se, but when you two become entirely comfortable with each other he does make a little comment that causes you to laugh sometimes. Although that would usually be before you started touching him - the moment you start, all rational thoughts and words are gone, and he couldn't crack a joke even if he tried.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Steven tries to be tidy, but he’s not obsessed about it. At the end of the day, he’ll groom when he remembers too. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Steven thinks of sex as the most intimate thing two human beings can do with each other. No matter the mood - angry, jealous, happy, romantic, goofy - Steven will always make sure to tell you how amazing you looked, how much he loved and adored you. Of course, you would always tell him the same thing (praise kink anyone?). He would make sure every inch of your bodies is pressed together, foreheads usually touching as he thanked the gods for you. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He used to a lot. Well, not a lot but more often than he does now. He used to do it two, maybe three times a week. Usually in the shower or if he had a particularly rough day at work, he would need a pick-me-up. Now though, he’ll do it maybe once every couple of weeks. Again, usually when he’s showering and you’re out of the house. He wouldn’t dream of doing it with you in there. Not only because why would he jack off when he could have the real thing but also because the thought of you catching him makes his heart sink. If he caught you, he’d think that would be the hottest thing in the world, but he would think the other way around would be totally embarrassing. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise. Kink. Praise kink. As said before, this man does nothing but compliment during sex. Loves to hear you compliment him too. Whispers of ‘I love you’s’ to each other between passionate kisses is a must for Steven. There’s been numerous times you’ve nearly made him finish from your words alone but thankfully he’s getting better at controlling that, he just wasn’t used to it at the time. 

He hasn’t admitted this one yet, but our little innocent Steven really, really, really wants to do some role-playing. Maybe start with a classic - like he’s a professor and you’re his student - but he’s definitely got lots of more ‘unique’ scenarios he’s trying to muster up the courage to ask you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Before living together Steven would love doing it in your bed. The fact he’s surrounded by your scent, your stuff everywhere, it just brought him so much comfort. After living together, his favourite place was anywhere in his entire flat. Finding new places to do it became a daily thought for him. Although the bedroom is still one of the best places, his desk is pretty fun too.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The second you sit on his lap, he’s done for. Whether that was just to snuggle or if you do it on purpose to initiate things, Steven would instantly have a hard on. He would try to hide it sometimes, especially when you just came over for a cuddle. He would position you so you weren’t over his crotch and would try to send his mind back to whatever he was doing before but there was no way he could distract himself enough. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t hit you or degrade you in anyway. Complete opposite of what Steven likes. He prefers to worship you like the God you are, not treat you like a whore. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Although he does like giving, you just have the gift. Every time he sees you go onto your knees with that little twinkle in your eye, makes him harder than he thought was possible. It was just something to do with how you would trust him enough and love him enough to give him so much pleasure with your mouth - it would drive him crazy. He would try so hard to compliment you as you did it, gently tugging your hair as he did so. But the closer to the end he got, the more desperate his actions became. He would start tugging harder and harder without even realising, words of worship turning in moans of desperation. No matter what, he would always make sure he gave back as good as he got - loving how much he can tear you apart with just him mouth. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s slooow. Sometimes a little painstakingly slow. Taking his time so each thrust is felt in its entirely for both of you and is as deep as he could possibly go. Even when you’re on top, Steven tends to hold your hips and control the pace himself though every once in a while, he’ll just basically lose it, going so hard and fast your brain goes foggy. But those days are usually when you guys have had a bad argument - something that thankfully happens rarely. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He does like a good quickie. Of course, he prefers proper sex with you, being able to be surrounded by each other fully and taking the time to explore. But those mornings where you’re both getting ready for work in a rush, and he sees you go to have a quick shower? Yeah, he’s joining you. You visited him at the museum and brought him his lunch? Quick shag on his lunch break. Just both trying to catch your pleasure as fast as you can, using each other just to get off makes him almost feral. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s up for experiments! Especially if it's something you’ve come up with. He sometimes will think or see something he would like to try with you; however, embarrassment stops him attempting. But when you ask him to try something new? Omg just you saying it is usually a turn on. Although there have been a couple things, he’s said no too like tying each other up - he’s spent too many sleepless nights tied up, thank you. But he would come up with something to compromise.

Although risk wise, Steven wouldn’t risk the two of you being caught. Even if every once in a while you would do it at his work, it would always be in a locked room where he knew there were no security cameras. The thought of someone seeing you two being as intimate as you were sent very bad chills up his spine. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can last maybe five minutes and a max of two rounds. The longer the two of you are together, the more you have sex, the longer he can last but you don’t mind too much. He’s the king of foreplay so by the time you guys actually start having sex you’ve already come a couple times anyways. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

At first, he’s not really sure how he feels about them. One hand, it does sound kind of fun to experiment with some new things - the idea of vibrators turns him on especially. But then he’ll once again go all shy at the idea, thinking it was weird he wanted to try them out. Eventually you’re the one who brings up the idea of using some toys and Steven agrees so fast he even surprised himself. Didn’t stop his face turning super red when you guys went through the websites, though, looking for stuff to buy. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Every once in a while, he’ll like to tease you, especially with his words. But he’s a sucker for you teasing him. Whether that be the little touches and suggestive smiles or straight up edging him and teasing him about him, he just can’t get enough.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He. Is. Loud. Less of a moaner and more of a grunter. He also often mutters during sex, mostly ‘i love you’s’ and just praising everything about you. At the beginning of your relationship Steven would be a little shy about being loud but he realised pretty quick that you love it. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Before you started dating, Steven would often have wet dreams about you. He would wake up in a daze and reach over to the other side of the bed to hold you, but then his mind would catch up with him and remember it was just a dream. So, the first time he had one about you and woke up, only to actually be able to wrap his arms around you after and not feel guilty about thinking about you in that way? Well, that man nearly cried with happiness. His dreams were literally coming true. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Pretty average, nothing special really - except he knows how to use properly to make it feel a lot better than average.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Towards the beginning he would want you literally 24/7. Literally everything you did would be a turn on for him, especially if you are doing just little domestic acts; like cooking his favourite dinners. After about six months together he did begin to calm down but that doesn't mean his sex drive isn't still super high. You’re looking at about three or four times a week on average - and that's just with Steven, not the other two boys.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't like sleeping much but he does find it easier with you next to him. Something to hold close to him. He would probably fall asleep after about an hour; thanks to the exhaustion he feels after your ‘activities’.

[hsllfirescoopsreblogs]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ.

「 ✦ moon knight boys ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all moon knight boys stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

┌──────────────────┐

MASTERLIST ✩ OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS ✩ 4/25/24

★ @mgparker

☼ comeback to me

☾Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

☼ should’ve listened

☾ your tendency to put your loved ones above you puts you in what would’ve been a deadly situation, had you not been an avatar of the goddess of the sun.

★ @starryevermore

☼ more hearts than mine

☾ marc and jake have made it clear that they don’t like you. but your heart is not the only one being broken by their actions and the consequences that follow. 

☼ not what he thinks pt2

☾ steven overhears something, but he doesn’t understand what he heard. 

★ @spacecowboyhotch

☼ proper date

☾ steven gains some knowledge about how he and reader met…and some about himself.

☼ the honey girl

☾ sometimes the meddling of old men pays off.

☼ unlikely

☾ a look into how marc and reader met.

★ @moonlight-prose

☼ kiss me once

☾ dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.

★ @loud-mouth-loser

☼ not him

☾ 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

★ @sarahghetti

☼ can you pretend to be my boyfriend

☾ the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

☼ direction to perfection

☾ one day, your vigilante lifestyle leads to you to crossing paths with a moon-serving weirdo in white bandages. jake promises that he won't get in the way, but there's something about his smirk that has your spidey-sense tingling, and what do you know—

★ @popquizhot-shot

☼ magic

☾ you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

★ @runa-falls

☼ reciprocation2 pt 3

☼ request

★ @soft-girl-musings

☼ salt and pepper

☾ Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

☼ stranger danger

☾ There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)

★ @romanarose

☼ misunderstanding

☾ When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.

★ @primosworld

☼ blueberry pancakes

☾ You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.

★ @projectionistwrites

☼ imploding the mirage

☾ You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

★ @heartthrobin

☼ press your tulips to mine

☾ Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

☼ my bleeding dream, my shadow in the light

☾ you were convinced, no: you were sure, that Jake Lockley couldn't stand the sight of you. then why was he consistently banging at your door in the middle of the night, dripping in blood and begging to be stitched up?

★ @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

☼ what you like

☾ Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

☼ embrace

☾ The reader is dating them but is kind of scared of Jake (is very quiet and weary around him, doesn't like his physical touch) because he was cold and mean to her when they first met (he wanted to "protect" Steven) but now all he wants is to hold and love her. The opportunity finally arrives when she's sick and needs his help. (He forcefully fronts bc he's not letting this opportunity go to waste)

★ @bibli0thecary

☼ in the stars

☾ steven finds it hard to believe that you’re gone, while marc is forced to live with endless regret, and jake continues to blame himself for everything.

☼ no one can hurt you

☾ they would never bring you into the face of danger, but what if danger comes preying on you? 

★ @ichorai

☼ dlz

☾ jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

☼ love dog

☾ your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him

★ @foli-vora

☼ there’s always tomorrow

☾ Steven needed a wingman. Or maybe he already had one, he just didn’t know it.

★ @petertingle-yipyip

☼ so long london

☾ Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love..

★ @peterman-spideyparker

☼ celebrate

☾ The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

★ @freelancearsonist

☼ wingman

☼ oh, bollocks

☾ reader is a teacher, au where steven got promoted to tour guide and is living his Best Life, lots of fluff and pining

★ @pulchritudinousrogers

☼ missed date

☾ Set before the events of Moon Knight, you work in the museum like Steven and have been crushing on each other for a while but neither of you have even approached each other. Marc steps in to help Steven out, but things don’t go well.

★ @marc-spectorr

☼ the morning after

☾ as steven watches you sleep, he starts to wonder whether you deserve to be with a man as broken as he is.

★ @foreverinadais

☼ the break up

☾ in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date.

★ @howaboutcastiel

☼ not my intention

☾ They notice she gets anxious and startled very easily, but when they bring it up she always brushes them off so they don't pry. They don’t know she's previously been in an abusive relationship. And maybe they're at an office party and some guy comes to her when she's alone and the boys get jealous since it's obvious he's trying to flirt with their girl.

★ @pinchofhoney

☼ just one word

☾ You may not be aware of their existence having only met Steven, but no Marc Spector alter will let anything happen to you.

★ @marvelsswansong

☼ clumsy

☾ you're extremely clumsy. Steven worries. Marc finds it amusing. Jake gets protective. But they all love you for it nonetheless.

★ @astroboots and @thirstworldproblemss

☼ red flags

☾ Sweet as he is, dating Steven means you have to be willing to ignore a few red flags along the way. 

★ @grantspectortrash

☼ suited and booted pt2 pt3

☾ you live across the hall from Steven. For whatever reason, he has to use your shower before going to a work event. You get the pleasure of seeing him in a suit.

★ @mknightgrant

☼ silence

☾ You should’ve stopped asking questions. 

★ @mkfluffluv

☼ a future without you

☾ marc lost you to the snap and after 5 years of dealing with his grief by maiming people, he finally gets you back.

☼ keep the secret?

☾ marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who’s willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it’s jake.)

☼ taste like apple juice and peace

☾ for a long time steven had thought his feelings had gone unnoticed. but he was wrong.

★ @little-worm-grant

☼ uncomplicated

☾ Deep down you knew Jake wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t think he needed you. Or maybe that’s what you told yourself to make it more tolerable to be out of your warm bed at this hour.

★ @mccn-bcys

☼ just a touch of your hand pt2 pt3

☾ when you turn eighteen, an ink stain appears on your skin wherever your soulmate touches you for the first time. the boys each are dealing with their stain in their own way.

★ @missdictatorme

☼ open my eyes

☾ Jake and Steven were more than happy when you agreed to be in a relationship with them, but Marc barely fronts when you're near. Will he warm up to you over time?

☼ third ones the charm pt2

☾ Jake Lockley was fine. Really. Marc and Steven are happy with their girlfriend and he's okay staying in the shadows. He's used to staying in the shadows. He managed to stay hidden from the boys for years, but lately something makes him take control more and more. Or rather, someone makes him take control more and more.

☼ the thin line

☾ Steven and Marc are literally glowing with happiness since they were in a relationship with you. Jake is mostly annoyed and is constantly trying to make you leave. Marc and Steven are having none of it.

★ @wysteria-clad

☼ our little thing

☾ you have a specific thing with each of them. It's not like you don't do it with other two, but you do enjoy a little act of intimacy that is special to each of them.

★ @m00nsbaby

☼ the already over

☼ weightless

☾ The feeling of being trapped goes beyond the ankle bracelet that keeps him tied to the bed.

★ @bruhstories

☼ canonic jar

☾ marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.

★ @oswildin

☼ good day

☾ You and Steven work at the museum together, little did he know you had a crush on the man. After getting yourself into trouble, you and Steven are both punished with an evening in inventory.

☼ take on me pt2

☾ You end up on an accidental date with Steven, but it ends up being the best date you could’ve asked for. It leads into more, but things aren’t as simple as they appear. With adoration strong for the man, you take a chance on him.

★ @eyelessfaces

☼ formal wear

★ @bensolosbluesaber

☼ the jake problem pt2

☾ Jake hates you. Like really hates you, which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t dating Steven and Marc. But maybe, just maybe, Jake doesn’t hate you

★ @starryeyedstories

☼ talk deity to me

☾ You’re an Egyptologist invited to the museum to give a talk to a group of school kids, and Steven might have a bit of a crush on you.

★ @juneknight

☼ dozing

★ @januaryembrs

☼ i should have been there

☾ Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

★ @so-easy-to-love-me <3

☼ mirrors pt2

☾ When things heat up between you and your roommate after you return home a bit tipsy, you learn that there´s more to Steven Grant than meets the eye.

★ @redeyerhaenyra

☼ sleeping beauty

☾ After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven

★ @writefightandflightclub

☼ shadow of a doubt

☾ marc was first. steven was second. khonshu’s never going to love you. …and you’re wondering if jake will ever get there at all.

★ @bits-and-babs

☼ chocolate

☾ After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.

☼ bumpy ride

☾ The handsome man who you see on your commute to work every day is always on your mind.

★ @spctrsgf

☼ cake

★ @thatsthewrongwallcraig

☼ a night at the museum

☾ After asking you out, Steven invites you to a private tour of the National Art Gallery.

★ @thatredheadwriter

☼ on the mat

☼ mine

☾ The suit, the suit is amazing. Honestly it is. But you can’t help but be the slightest bit annoyed when it erases the marks you leave all over him. Lucky for you, Steven’s more than happy to let you have another go.

☼ outnumbered

☾ You’re Layla’s adoptive sister, and Marc’s former lover. Being reunited with both of them stirs up some old feelings, but that gets pushed to the backburner when you’re severely injured during a fight. But things tend to boil over when they’re left too long, so what happens when you have some time alone with Marc.

★ @ivystoryweaver

☼ spectre series

☾ Marc Spector and his alters Steven and Jake have lost the love of their lives. They each try to move on, in their own way, but getting over you is the hardest thing they've ever faced. Marc starts to see you everywhere - he's haunted by your memory. No, literally, why are you sitting on the end of his bed? He believes in ancient deities, seeing how Jake still serves one as Moon Knight. But ghosts?

★ @storiesforallfandoms

☼ how things are now

☾ now that they’ve learned how to share the body, they must come to terms with the fact that they also have to share their wife

★ @laaundromat

☼ building love

☾ Steven has unconsciously set himself up on a date with his crush.

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

[pimosworld]

Stranger in my house

Pairing-Moon boys x F!reader ( Secretly Jake x f!reader) Marc Spector x f!reader/ Steven grant x f!reader

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst,Fluff,Insecurities, inaccurate depiction of DID, reader is semi aware of Jake. Protective Marc, Steven being sweet as always. Established relationship with Marc and Steven.

WK-1.6k

Summary-Snippets of a life where Jake struggles to stay in the shadows.

A/N- Dedicated to my moonknight babes. I have not forsaken you.

[Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

You notice him one day.

  A year into your relationship and Marc is fed up with Steven and yours overflowing books on the floor of the flat. “We need another bookshelf.” He grumbles at your suggestion because he would just get rid of some if he had the choice. 

  That’s how you find yourself curled up on the couch with some tea and ironically a book while you watch Marc put together the new shelf you and Steven picked out. 

  It was ornate with cherry wood accents and came with a miniature ladder to help you reach the top shelf. You didn’t think it would be too complicated but it seems as Marc stares at the pages like they are ancient hieroglyphics, you may have caused a bit more of a headache than you intended. 

  He mutters something incoherent under his breath ‘déjeme ver’. You don’t bother to ask if he needs help when the scowl on his face deepens even further into an almost unrecognizable version of your boyfriend. 

  You glance up occasionally to watch the way his back strains against the tight black t-shirt, or the way his ass looks in his jeans when he bends over. Marc and Stevens movements are so unalike and yet even now the way he stands up and straightens as he rolls his neck is so unlike Marc. 

  You stop ogling to resume your book and find yourself several chapters in when you look up to see it finished. “Oh honey, it looks so good.” 

  The look he gives you when he turns around is more of a smirk of amusement. You glance down briefly to mark your page before standing from the couch to inspect his handy work. You don’t notice the way he’s watching you as you slide your hands along the smooth wood shelves. You grab a few of your favorite books that were piled on the floor and strategically place them in some specific secret order that no one but you is privy to. 

  You turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, waiting for him to scoop you up as he usually does. His hands hover hesitantly at your waist and then he pulls you flush against him. You almost have no room to breathe as you chuckle lightly into his neck. You swear he smells your hair before he abruptly lets you go. 

  “Hi love, do you like the bookcase?” Your sweet Steven has a slightly wild look in his eyes as waits for your response. 

  “Of course I do, we picked it out together silly.” You lean in and kiss him on the cheek and he relaxes at your touch. “If you’re listening Marc, I love it, since you disappeared on me.” 

  “Right ya…Marc. He says you're welcome.” 

  ****

  You notice one day

  You had spent all afternoon preparing a special dinner and dessert for Marc. The flat is adorned with candles and smells of fresh pasta and apple pie. 

  When Marc walks through the door you can see it written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything about you making his favorites because technically it’s not his birthday. It’s the day after. 

  You enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence as you wait for him to finish. He raises an eyebrow at you as you hand him a small box, unwrapped because then it’s not a birthday gift. 

  He opens it slowly to reveal his watch that broke months ago, the small hand ticking away right in front of his eyes. 

  You should thank her mate

  She didn’t need to do all this for my birthday 

  Well it’s technically not anymore is it? 

  He doesn’t say anything but you decide to press on with your plan. Even if it’s not exactly the reaction you were expecting at the very least he’s not protesting it. 

  “I have one more thing.” You stand from the table and head to the kitchen to retrieve the apple pie on warm in the oven. To you it’s just a dessert, a non cake related dessert that just so happened to be his favorite. Steven helped you with the vegan crust because he was not about to let Marc have all the fun. 

  You return to the table with a slice and a fork to share. He stares at it for a moment and your heart sinks a little. 

  “I know what you’re going to say…”

  He cuts you off before you can finish, he stands so suddenly it startles you. He kisses you slowly at first, savoring the way you moan into his mouth. His hand is on the back of your head and the other around your waist and it feels so different. It’s like you’re sending him off to war and this is the last kiss you’ll ever share. Your lungs burn from lack of air but you don’t want to be the first one to break. 

  He pulls away as you look up at him. His eyes are squeezed so tightly shut as he tries to catch his breath. 

  “Honey,look at me.” 

  His brow softens as he opens his eyes revealing that deep chocolate brown, with a look that could only adorn your sweet Stevens face. 

  “Thank you, love.” 

  ****

  It goes like this for a while. You noticing him…him noticing you. 

  You notice as You quirk your eyebrow at him in the kitchen when he picks out the tomato on his sandwich and drops it in the trash like it personally wronged him.  

  “I thought you liked those?” 

  He notices After a long day at work in shoes you know we’re too uncomfortable he picks up your feet and places them in his lap. He rubs them at first bordering on painful that settles into something soothing. His fingers brush the bottom of your feet and you flinch at the ticklish feeling. He tsks at you under his breath and you still your movements when you meet his unfamiliar eyes. 

  You notice When he doesn’t hear you enter the flat. He’s at the kitchen sink washing dishes, shirtless in those gray sweatpants you love. He’s humming some tune you’ve never heard as you place your things down and toe off your shoes. You didn’t mean to startle him as your cold hands met his side and he turned quickly knocking a glass off the counter. 

  “Mierda quédate ahí!” You don’t speak Spanish but you’re too stunned to move anyway. He grabs you with one arm around your waist and carries you like a duffel bag over to the couch away from the glass. 

  “Sorry love, clumsy me. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Steven doesn’t look at you as he grabs the broom from the closet. 

  ****

He notices when he slinks in through the window in the early hours. It’s still dark outside as he strips himself of his moon knight clothes, the blood only distinguishable on his hands. As he slips past you to the shower he can see your shallow breaths while you lay out flat on the bed. 

  After a while you feel the bed dip beside you as you try to calm your breathing. He wraps his arm around you as he pulls your back flush to his chest. His breath is hot on your neck and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you. 

  “You’re a terrible faker mi amor.” Your breath hitches in your throat as he speaks the words into your ear. 

  “You have to slow down your breathing if you want to pretend to be asleep.” His voice a low growl as he places his hand on your chest. You can feel him take slow deliberate breaths as you try to match the rise and fall of his chest. ‘así’

  “This isn’t how you lay when you're asleep.” His hand leaves your body momentarily and you miss the heat of his touch. He grabs your thigh behind the knee and pushes it gently until it’s bent. His hand slowly guides you to your stomach while his other arm supports the weight of your head.‘es mejor’

  He envelopes you under the blankets and it takes all your willpower not to roll him over and straddle him. You don’t even know him. He buries his face in your neck and sniffs again inhaling your scent. You’re practically skin to skin in your satin slip dress and his bare chest and boxers. 

  “Is this okay?” His voice barely above a whisper as you nod your head. His lips ghost over your back before he kisses your shoulder. It’s those soft sleepy kisses adorning your body until the real sleep claims you both. 

  ****

  You awake to the feel of cold sheets beside you as you feel around for him. A sliver of light hits the room from the bathroom door slightly ajar. 

  “I swear to god Jake, if you fuck this up.”

Jake -he has a name

  It’s mostly Marc speaking idle threats as you listen in to a one sided conversation. Whatever his reservations may be, it's none of your business. You do know that he would never do anything intentionally to fuck this up. 

  Your boyfriend exits the bathroom still dressed only in his black boxers. “Love…we need to talk to you about something.” 

  He sits on the edge of the bed as he rubs circles on your legs under the sheets. 

  “I know.” 

  They knew…it’s why they can’t be mad when you finally talk about the stranger. You fell in love with him a long time ago. The one they tried to keep a secret. He no longer wanted to be kept in the dark. He loves you too much. This stranger in your house. 

@chichimisaki @simpforbritgents @casa-boiardi @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @missbeverlyhills

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Dejeme ver-Let me see

Mierda quedate ahi-Shit stay there

Asi- just like that

Es mejor- that’s better

[eyelessfaces]

come out

jake lockley x reader

summary: you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it. you couldn’t be mad at him. not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

warnings: ending fades to implied smut, sexual innuendos

tags: tooth rotting fluff, literally no plot just fluff, soft!jake, seriously this man needs to be held

word count: 0.9k

The back of Jake's knuckles brushed lightly against your cold cheek. You stirred as you rubbed your eyes, still hazy from sleep.

You knew it was Jake from the soft and aching look in his gaze– you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it.

You smiled endearingly at him, brushing back the curls falling over his forehead.

“‘Morning, Jake” you murmured, smoothing your hand along his bicep as his elbow was propped beside you, planted into the mattress.

Jake felt his heart flutter at the demonstration of you recognizing him so easily.

“‘Morning cariño” he whispered as he leaned to leave a kiss at the bridge of your nose. “How’d you know it was me?” he asked, letting his fingertips travel down the side of your face.

“An intuition” you affirmed, leaning into his touch. “I missed you.” you breathed out, heart aching as the words escaped your lips.

“I know” he complied as he shamefully closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry querida” he apologized, looking right back into your eyes, searching for a trace of blame in them.

There was none.

You couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

“I know it’s hard for you,” you said, mirroring his actions and bringing your hand to the side of his face. “But I don’t want you to push yourself too much. Take your time, okay honey?”

He nodded, a pained look covering his face, and nuzzled your hand leaving a kiss at your palm.

“Thank you” he mumbled against your skin before leaving another kiss there.

You chuckled and buried your hand into his curls. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For being so considerate. For understanding me.” he affirmed, smiling weakly. “Us.” he corrected himself.

You hooked your hands behind his neck and brought him down to your lips. He kissed them with as much passion and devotion he could give you, cherishing the intimacy and rarity of the moment.

His necklace dangled under your chin and you lightly tugged on it, drawing a sharp gasp from him before he smirked into the kiss and flicked his tongue over your bottom lip in need to feel you even more.

It didn’t take long for him to lick into your mouth, tasting you thoroughly until he ran out of breath.

He pulled away but remained close, nuzzling your neck as you ran your hands along his bare back, nails softly scraping against his warm skin just the way you knew he liked.

“I love you” he mumbled into your neck. He had wanted to say it, but he hadn’t expected the words to escape his mouth so easily. It needed to be said anyways.

He left a kiss in the crook of your neck, punctuating his previous words.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and one of your hands mindlessly traveled to his curls like it was a reflex. You scraped your nails against his scalp, and soothingly swiped your thumb over his shoulder blade with your other hand.

“I love you too Jake” you replied, looking down at the man buried into your neck.

He adored when you held him like that; just you and him, nothing else around, no one else around, no Khonshu, no danger, no blood to shed– just him resting in your arms, cherishing his turn at fronting without it being an emergency to protect his alters; just him living his life with you, taking the time to breathe. He could get used to it.

“I would love to see you come out more often,” you affirmed as he looked back at you. “I know it’s hard and I’m not putting you under pressure but–”

“–Yeah” he nodded, pinching his lips. “I know” he said in a whisper as he dived to kiss your lips again, his fingers holding your chin while he did so. He pulled away, threading his fingers through your hair as he remained leaning over you. “Truth is– I want you all the time” he said with a small grin growing at the corner of his mouth. “All the fucking time.” he added through gritted teeth.

“Well… You can have me all you want now” you whispered with a small chuckle, and you knew from there that the atmosphere had changed. Jake stopped his kisses and stayed still for a moment. Did you break him?

“...Jake?” you called, confused at his silent state. Jake wasn’t very talkative but this was strange.

“...All I want ?” he finally asked back, his dark eyes carefully examining your face.

You chuckled softly. “All you want.” you affirmed, stroking the back of his neck.

A small smirk grew on his lips. “Mmmh okay. Interesting. Very interesting” he hummed as his hands met your hips, gently kneading the skin there before diving right back to your neck, leaving open mouthed, warm kisses there.

You almost choked on air at the sudden feeling of his teeth nipping at your skin– you should have expected it, it’s Jake after all.

“Jake!” you exclaimed, uncontrolled giggles escaping your mouth.

“I better take advantage of that free time then, mh?” he asked before kissing your cheek, tangling his legs with yours.

“Yeah you better” you teased, only hoping all of this will get him to front more often.

It was only a matter of time before Jake finally felt legitimate fronting as much as Marc and Steven did.

—

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[outey-spacey]

Steven Grant Core