#jake moonknight

[faretheeoscar]

Lesson Learned

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, orgasm denial, spanking, let me know if I'm missing some--

Summary: you will never think about having sex toys around the house again.

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes. Had this sitting down in my drafts for so long, I wrote this I'm not kidding you like 5 minutes after the Brioni photoshoot came out and my mind melted and was filled with Oscar thoughts…

Thanks to my Vin @sereiist for letting me invade her discord messages with all my thots and use them as a note pad

Word count: 1.2k~

It's a cozy afternoon at your shared flat with the boys, you've been mostly being lazy all day, laying in bed reading, watching movies, while the boys were away, but after you heard the stretch of the keys your heart fluttered at the prospect of your boyfriends being at home.

Jake is sitting down in the living room and he calls for you.

“Come here mi amor, I wanna talk to you for a second” 

You frroze in place, your gaze turns towards him, he's looking with dark eyes at you, not stopping eye contact for a second and when you see him rolling his sleeves up you know by the tone he is using and the way he's looking at you that it’s gonna be bad….

So you walk towards him and you can already feel the tingling sensation between your legs when he’s looking at you not even phased, you can see the prominent veins on his arms and hands, a sight you don't get to see that much with him, as he's always on his suit and tie, wearing his gloves...

The gloves.... those gloves that just provide the perfect friction when he fin...

“Sientate” His command gets you out of your fantasies, he's stitching his eyebrows together and finishing rolling his sleeves all the way to his elbows, then, he pats on his legs for you to sit on his lap, you hesitate but you end up sitting cause you know if you don’t comply it would be even worse for you. (Sit Down)

Jake reaches for your chin and forces you to look at him, he squeezes your cheeks together.

“Do you know why you’re here chiquita? hm?” He says this in that very low husky voice that makes you already squirm in his lap, he places one of his hands on your hips for you to stay still, you just shyly shake your head no to him, cause you really don’t have a fucking idea why he has you there, why is he even looking at you like that, you just feel helpless when you try to stay steady on his lap just thinking that he’s probably gonna make you tremble in no time.

He tuts disappointed when you don’t know why he has you there and why he is going to punish you, so he reaches up for a thing on the side of the couch and shows it to you.

“What did we say about this?” 

He opens the palms of your hands and places the small vibrator on them, you swore to him you’d get rid of it the last time he punished you for even having it, the memories of him edging you for hours with that damn vibrator and making you squirt without even touching you himself are enough for you to already start almost staining his pants with the wetness between your legs.

“Jake I—“ You try to start justifying yourself but he cuts you short with a firm slap on your ass.

“Sin peros mi vida, I thought we had an understanding about having these things around the house last time…” (No buts, my love)

You feel everything inside of you shaking while looking at him, his pupils are all darkened and the hint of a little small smile appears on the corner of his lips.

“Get up and bend down for me, en cuatro, here on the couch, NOW”

Your already shaking legs make you look clumsy when you stumbled to get up from his lap to accommodate to the side of the couch, in a non very graceful way you managed to get in all fours, all your nervous terminals were already expecting a huge spanking session, as it was the way Jake always started to give you "a lesson", his lessons ending on markings of his red palms on the tender flesh of your ass.

Jake made his way behind you, he pulled down painfully slowly your night shorts, enough for your already wet dripping cunt to feel the cold air of the living room; you closed your eyes in anticipation of the first slap but for your amusement it never came, instead the only sound you heard was the zipper of Jake’s pants and small huffs coming from him, you turned your head to see and you were faced with a sight that was nonetheless… beautiful.

Jake Lockey with that new beige suit you bought for him on your last anniversary together was with his eyes closed, his lips snarling in an almost painful twitch as he stroke himself beautifully, his length coated with a mix of saliva and precum making the slide of his angry fist over his throbbing member easier for him. 

“Turn around, no mires” He ordered when he noticed you were looking at him, you tried to obey but you couldn’t simply take your eyes off of him there was a lump in your throat, you were waiting and squirming around with need. Seeing how his eyelids closed in concentration as he worked on himself and tried to suppress moans as he circled his tip with his thumb was in your honest opinion a pure display of art happening in front of your eyes. (Turn around, don't look)

When you saw him open his eyes again you quickly turned around hoping he didn’t catch you in the act but those hopes went away when you suddenly felt his full length bottoming out without a warning inside you.

“I. TOLD. YOU. TO. TURN. AROUND.” Each growl and word came with a full slap on your asscheeks as he pounded hard into you. 

“What is it that you don’t get huh?” He said as he kept abusing your dripping cunt nonstop without even warming you up for the size of his girth.

“Jake please… it’s too much, you’re going too hard” You whined and pleaded as he kept on using you, earning yourself another round of slaps and groping of your ass that would leave marks in there for a week at least.

“CÁLLATE!” Harsh and abusing thrusts kept coming your way and making your legs almost give up. (Shut up!)

“You’re gonna learn- *grunt*- you’re gonna learn one way or another that this- *grunt* - this pretty little cunt belongs to me and only I can make it cum”

Tears were already running down your cheeks, you didn’t know if it was pleasure? Pain? At this point it was all a blur, you were starting to feel that heat starting to build deep inside your lower stomach, mewling and moaning erupting from deep inside you, as you squeezed the nearest pillow available to you, but as soon as you were barely getting there, you heard Jake growling and gasping before pulling out to jerk himself and finish all over your back.

You had to blink twice to even think about what was happening when you felt the stickiness of his hot cum against your skin as he rubbed it with his thumb as if he was painting over you, you felt the soft pattern of his thumbs making a smiley face on you?. You were confused, overstimulated and shaking when he looked down at you and slapped your ass one more time.

“Que bonita” He gave you a sarcastic smile and a dark chuckle, when he saw you confused and whimpering asking him to help you with your release. (How beautiful)

“No mi amor, I told you you were gonna learn one way of another…”

He moved himself from behind you and pulled his pants up, you heard the zipper of his pants before he threw the infamous vibrator on your side of the couch as he bent down and growled softly to your ear.

“And I really really, I hope you learned with this how frustrating it feels to know someone in this house had an orgasm without you…”

Come on just look at him... tell me I'm not the only one picturing Jake...

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[theaussiedragon]

have a jake doodle

[traveller-of-the-knight]

🤍 They have a boy band and it's called the trauma boys 🤍

[spicyboelives]

Resisting the urge to spam all the silly doodles I've got,,, this is the last one for today...mayhaps...

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ALR!!!!!! SO, jealous/mad sex w the moonboys?

- 🦅🇺🇸

at your service🫡 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

JEALOUS/ MAD SEX WITH THE MOONBOYS

moonboys x female reader (not as the moon system)

warnings. 18+ only!! rough pinv mdni

with marc, I feel like it would after a bad day, and he is in need of a stress reliever. he'd be kinda forceful (ALL CONSENUAL!!) and rough with you, manhandling you a bit. he'd fuck you in doggy, just ploughing and slamming into you from behind - ignoring your muffled cries into the mattress. he'd bruise your ass with slaps and squeezes, marking your waist as he tugs you to meet his ruthless thrusts. butt cheeks slamming against his thighs, balls hitting your clit from behind - all that good shit. he'd also grab onto your hair or behind your neck, using you as leverage as he fucks into you - holding you still to take his fucking. he'd cum first, all over your lower back, completely unaware that you haven't cum. he'd apologise profusely for getting so carried away and would roll you over to kiss you - comforting you. then he would eat you out til you cum on his tongue. he'd chub up again right after, so you'd go again. but more lovingly this time, and you'd talk and kiss as he winds into you. asking him what's on his mind/ bothering him

with steven, im thinking he gets jealous when he sees you talking with a guy in the queue. he'd sit on it all day and would be mopey about it. he wouldn't tell you why he's mad or jealous - he'd wait until the night when you'd have sex. usually, he's not one for games/ messing about, but it made him feel insecure bc the guy was 'better looking' than him (untrue) and he felt inadequate, and that you could do better. you'd be in missionary and he would be really sneaky and mean with it - only giving you the head of his cock, letting you satiate your need on just his tip. he'd edge you for so long, thumbing over your clit with his cock inside, waiting just until you were about to cum then he'd snatch his dick and thumb away - leaving you desperate and frustrated. it would be a much different steven !! he'd realise how much he loves to edge you - how much he enjoys the power of controlling your climax. it would take some good restraint to control his own orgasm but the thought of you with another man would give him that little push to hold off. after he'd talk about what bothered him and you'd reassure him, telling him how you'd never leave him for another man

with jake, im feeling that he gets jealous (?) or mad seeing you getting hit on at the bar. he'd keep it all hidden with his composure, never once exposing how territorial it made him feel. if you were getting hit on and he was beside you ???? he wouldn't get angry at all !! (I feel like he's confident with your relationship so to him it's amusing) he'd join in when the guy is chatting you up, "she is beautiful, isn't she?" he knows you're his, so to him it's like a fun game - kinda pimping you out (bc he knows he can protect you) he'd whisper something in spanish in your ear and he'd walk you away, a hand on the small of your back as you'd giggle. in the car, he'd be all over you and you wouldn't even make it home. he'd fuck you in the car park, in the backseat, you riding him. he'd have his grip around your throat, fucking you down onto him - you'd have your hands around his forearms, using him as stability as he claims you, pounding up into you. he'd mutter how he doesn't share and that you're his, telling you how pretty you are as he just slams his cock up into you. when you'd get home, you'd have another few rounds, nothing able to satiate the carnal feeling

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[guruan]

Lighter

2 versions ❤

You have no idea how much I moved colors and other things around for this one, it's always the struggle with value based pieces for me

This is available on my INPRNT already❤

And on Patreon, some other alt versions for color 🤭

[moonknightsonata]

Acts of Service

pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered

summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.

cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship

wc: 1199

a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.

—

When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.

Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.

Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.

Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.

Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.

Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.

He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.

Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.

You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.

You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.

“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.

“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”

“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.

“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.

“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”

“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.

“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”

Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.

Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.

“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”

Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.

He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.

“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.

“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”

Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”

As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.

You kept going with more examples.

“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.

“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”

“You take care of me because you love me.”

Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”

“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.

“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”

“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”

Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[redeyerhaenyra]

Sleeping Beauty

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

Warnings: Hidden relationship, reader is mentioned having sex with Jake, jealousy on Steven's part, vaginal fingering, a sprinkling of dry humping, cunnilingus, Steven cums in his pants, fem reader, one use of (Y/N)

Notes: Debuting Steven onto my blog :) this fix was heavily inspired by @blue-beeeeeeery 's post

Wc: 1.9k

You’d been dating Jake for a while, having met him as your cab driver after a night out with your friends. In the time you’d been together, he’d opened up to you about his DID, and his alters; Marc and Steven. You hadn’t met them yet, and it seemed to be a little bit of a touchy subject for him, so you didn’t push it. Besides, you adored Jake, even if there were two other men living in his head, you were sure you could come to love them, too. 

Despite not pushing it, you had asked why it was Jake wouldn’t introduce you to his alters, and he had told you that they were both… skittish, in a way. That you would meet them, that he wanted you to, but he worried to spring it on too soon. And who could blame him? Hearing that your alter had a partner you didn’t know about would understandably be perplexing at the very least. Though, it made you smile- Jake may have acted like a big, scary, cigarette smoking tough guy, but he really cared, especially about Steven. You’d gathered he was the “innocent little brother” of the group, the one to be looked after. He seemed so sweet, even when Jake would complain about him. And you knew one day you’d see him for yourself. Jake was naturally protective, over you and over his alters. It warmed your heart to know he was waiting for them to be ready to hear that they technically had a girlfriend they didn’t know about.

Besides, the reason he hadn’t told them when you had first met, is because they didn’t know he existed apparently. You had called him shy, and he had grumbled that he wasn’t, he was just fulfilling his role in the system. The protector, doing the dirty work for Khonshu when Marc couldn’t, and then slipping back into the shadows when it was done. It sounded lonely, you told him. It was, he replied, until he met you. Jake could be so romantic when he wanted to.

And so here you were, laying cuddled up to who you thought was Jake, the darkness outside told you it was still the early hours of the morning. You were only half awake anyway- fucking Jake always took something out of you. It was exhausting, in the best way.

You decided to stay like this, for a while. Jake normally woke up hours before you, kissing you goodbye and sending you a text later that hoped you “Had a good sleep, hermosa,” and so you relished the little extra time you had with him. It felt a little demeaning, for him at least, having to sneak in and out like he was a teenager, but you pushed through it, for Jake and his alters. Your eyes blinked back closed, willing yourself to not sleep too deeply, so that you might give him a proper goodbye when he left your flat.

The air was quiet, still. Peaceful. The only sounds were yours and his breathing. The warmth of him behind you, his arm curled just under your breasts lulled you to sleep once again. And meanwhile, as you fell back into sleep, someone else was rising from it. Though, it wasn’t Jake.  

Steven blearily opened his eyes, and groaned. Despite having just woken up, his body felt tired… but in a good way. And he was spooning something soft..  and warm. His vision cleared- and he nearly jumped back in shock. There was a woman…. in his bed, but it wasn’t his bed, and this wasn’t his flat. He whimpered in shock as she moved against him, moaning as you stretched your arms above your head.

“You up already, papí?”

Papí… definitely Jake. Steven gulped. He knew his other alters were more experienced with women than he was, but this was just silly. His eyes raked over you, your form cuddled beneath the blankets, your hair sprawled about the pillow like a halo. Gosh.. you were pretty. He found himself thinking that Jake had good taste. He shook his head free of the thought- he needed to leave as fast as he could. As much as Jake cared about his alters, so did Steven. And thought he’d been wishing for a girlfriend for forever, but he wouldn’t go as far as to turn off one of Jake’s “scores” with his awkwardness. Steven had no idea how adorable he was. 

When he didn’t answer, you turned over, squinting at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes; “Jake?”

Steven froze. God, you were gorgeous. Ohhhh it wasn’t fair. Why did Jake have to be the best with women…. 

“Jake? Are you alright?” Your hands came to cup his face, as you examined him for any sign of sickness, or anything else that might make him freeze so suddenly. 

“ ‘M fine-!” Steven’s voice broke a little as he choked out a reply. Oh, good one Steven. You were wise to his sudden change in accent, sounding more like he was from London now. Your hands quickly retracted, and you gasped.

“…Not Jake?” “No-“ Steven gulped, you shifted away from him, Steven was sure it was to make him more comfortable, but he found himself internally begging you to shift closer.  “Steven..?” You breathed out; “…Y-yeah, uh.. who’re you? W-where am I?” 

You sighed, knowing that this conversation was going to happen one way or another. You put your hands up in a show of mercy; “My name is (Y/N)… this is my flat.. I’m uh… I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

Steven’s eyes widened. “Oh.” “Yeah..” “….Well why didn’t I know he had a bloody girlfriend.”You giggled. At least he wasn't freaking out too much. "He didn't want to shock you, I.. I've known him since before he started to show himself to you and Marc." Steven nodded along. "Well I have to say, waking up in a strange woman's bed is pretty shocking..." You giggled again. "-Yes, sorry, he usually wakes up hours before me to go back to your place." "Oh right.." Steven sniffed.

"Um.. d-did you, uh... I mean, have you.." He motioned to your neck- Jake liked to leave hickeys. You caressed the marks, only just now realising they were there.

"Oh- um, do you mean..?" "Uh.. yeah- sorry it's just.. we share a body, y'know.." "No no I get it-! Um, yes, yes we did." He was, of course, not so subtly asking if you and Jake had had sex last night.

"Oh, right- I mean, it's fine! Obviously, you're like, together, and that's like, normal- sorry I'm making this so weird." The smile you gave him was sympathetic. "No, it's alright," you had told him, but your words had fallen into a buzz around him. Steven was deep in his thoughts- sure, it was Jake you'd had sex with, but they shared a body. What had he done with you? You'd had sex, but how? What did you like? As his mind spiralled, he felt his cock twitch a little beneath his boxers. Only a few hours ago, probably, his body had been inside you. His hands had probably made you cum a dozen times- Steven knew that's at least what he'd want to do with you...

"-Steven?" His thoughts cleared, "God, sorry love, head's all over the place today.." You hummed.

"You're really pretty." Steven's comment made the both of you blush, and you could've said the same of him. You hadn't noticed until now that you had subconsciously been shuffling closer to one another in the bed. Your noses were close to touching now, and you decided to take the plunge.

Steven whimpered as your lips met his, and while he was eager, it was strange that he be so inexperienced, considering, again, that he shared a body with Jake. His hands were greedy, but anxious. The trembling in his fingers gave presence to his mounting desire to touch you, and gently you guided his hands to your hips. That was all the encouragement he needed, his grip became suddenly a lot more confident, clutching your hips tightly before travelling down to squeeze your bum. He moaned with you, grinding your hips into the hot pressure of his cock against your tummy, his touch against you hungry, like an excitable dog.

You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth, biting your lip as he kissed his way down your neck.

"Bloody Jake, 's not fair, he always gets the girls, 's not fair, I'll show him-" Your thoughts were getting a little hazy, and the throbbing in your core became more and more apparent.

"Steven.." You breathed, if nothing else, he was eager to prove himself, fingers deftly ripping your panties down off of you.

"I can do it just as well as he can, you watch-" Steven didn't waste any time licking his way up to your clit, and sucking on it like a man starved. You cried out, hands falling to grip his soft curls. He was moaning and whimpering into you, just as you were above him. The seam of his boxers caught so deliciously on the head of his cock, and he all but cried into your cunt and he rocked his hips against the mattress.

Your hand came up to cover your moans, but Steven was having none of it, he halted his assault on your pussy, switching his tongue out for his fingers, deftly sliding inside of you, as you keened.

"No, no, none of that love, wanna hear ya, yeah?" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your toes curled as his fingers finally, finally found the spot. You writhed in pleasure, tugging harder on his hair. His mouth came back to suckle your clit, pistoning his fingers inside you with all the expertise that you would not have expected from him.

This hot mess contiuned for a while, until you were throwing your head back, pleasure soaring through your every nerve as you came all over Steven’s face, and he gladly drank your essence straight from the source. He didn't stop, though, he just kept going, the wet pad of his tongue doing wonders at overstimulating you- and from his canting hips and repeated whimpers, you could tell he was close too. It became too much however, and roughly you tugged his head up off of you, seemingly giving him the boost of masochistic pleasure he needed to tip himself over the edge, spilling himself into his boxers, moaning and drooling where he lay his head on your thigh.

You stayed like that for a moment, marvelling at Steven's beauty. He had his juices all over his face, messy boy. And had some of it gotten in his hair? He was a needy baby, too. He soon decided that he just wasn't close enough to you, and crawled up your body to snuggle himself between your breasts, sighing. His voice was muffled a little; "Was it good?" And you almost audibly "awed" at how cute he was being. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and you kissed his head;

"It was amazing Steven." He hummed, still a little jealous it seemed, "Bet Jake doesn't do that." You swatted his head lightly. "Don't be mean." "Just teasing love.."

It was still dark outside. Pussy-eating was a tiring activity, it seemed, as you felt Steven cuddle his way back to sleep in your arms. You kissed his head again, unconsciousness soon taking you as well. Steven was more resilient to new information than Jake thought, it seemed.

[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.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

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

Genre: fluff & smut

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

***

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

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

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well why am I here?" 

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

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not the same."

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

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

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

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

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

"Say the words."

"What?"

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

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

"Any way that I ask?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

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

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

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

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

"Of course they are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Steven, calm down." You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have our actions not supported them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes Jake, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

[oddballwriter]

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really 

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[traveller-of-the-knight]

I think I'll start posting these in groups from now on :)

[spicyboelives]

Thinking about the mummification process again. How they go to such lengths to make the body seem like its in a pristine condition, (all fine!) or at least to preserve it. But the way even that’s just posturing, like a show- and all the important bits are stored away in jars? That not even the final resting place for it, not technically- yes its rotting under that wrapping but it still needs to journey through the night. There is still so much expected of this corpse yk?

IDK,,, if that makes sense - I just like making connections

[pimosworld]

Blueberry Pancakes

Moon knight system x f!reader

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

CW-NSFW, 18+ MDNI, Depictions of DID, Smut, mentions of sex, Unprotected piv,fingering,rough sex,slight dom Jake, piv cream pie,cum,light angst, fluff.

Please let me know in the comments if I missed any warnings.

WC-3k

Not beta-read

———————————————————

You slowly blink open your eyes taking in the soft morning light of the flat you share with your boyfriend-boyfriends. You’ve been spoiled by Marc and Steven for a year now and you couldn’t be happier. The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts amongst the flat and you can’t help the bittersweet feeling that consumes you.

Jake makes you blueberry pancakes.

Despite doing all the things a loving, caring boyfriend does- he refuses to front. A simple hi and bye is the most you’ve gotten out of him. It shouldn’t bother you really, you have two wonderful men that kiss the ground you walk on. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t think he deserves to be a part of this the way Marc and Steven are.

You're pulled from your thoughts as the door to the bathroom opens and you're graced with the sight of Marc stalking towards you only wrapped in a towel. His broad shoulders and chest are still dripping with water from the shower. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You smile up at him feeling slightly guilty. You secretly hope one of these mornings it’s Jake emerging from the bathroom still glistening from the shower, he climbs into bed and fucks you like his life depends on it and you both enjoy those sweet blueberry pancakes together.

“Prince Charming made you pancakes again.” He says sarcastically as he makes his way to the closet to get dressed.

It seems to be a sore subject for Marc as you think back to the first time he made them. Marc excused himself from the table as you moaned into every bite. You didn’t miss the way he glared into his reflection in the toaster while he stood in the kitchen waiting for you to finish.

“You know I love you and you make the best omelet.” You say as you make your way out of bed and wrap him in a tight hug from behind.

“Yes but you don’t sound like we’re fucking when you eat my omelet.”

You nip at his back and smack his ass on your way out of the bedroom. As much as he calls you a brat he definitely has his moments.

You make your way to the kitchen to enjoy your breakfast before you have to head to work. As you sit down to take your first bite you feel Marc’s eyes on you. You look up from your plate and see him with arms crossed and a smirk on his gorgeous face. You cock your head to the side and take a slow bite stifling a moan, because now is not the time.

“Are you going to watch me eat the whole thing?” You say playfully as you watch him make his way to the coffee maker that Jake got ready for Marc-because you prefer tea.

He doesn’t respond right away so you think this is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been bothering you.

“Why won’t he spend time with me?”

Marc groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I’ve already told you, please just leave it alone.”

“Is he listening now?”

“No sweetheart.” Yes cariño

“Well if you could tell him, I really really love pancakes.”

“Sure thing.” Marc says with slight annoyance.

****

You turn the key to enter your flat and as you open the door you're greeted with the sight of your boyfriend on the couch pecking at you over the bridge of his reading glasses.

“Hey love.” Steven smiles sweetly at you as he sets his book on the coffee table. “How was your day?” He always directed his full attention at you, as if you were the moon and the stars.

“It was fine.” You say rather unconvincing.

“Oh just fine,that won’t do.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch. “Come have a seat, let's talk.”

You make your way over to the couch and sit down and he grabs your legs placing them in his lap as you lean your back on the opposite arm rest. He takes your heels off one by one and begins rubbing your aching feet.

“I know you had pancakes this morning so the day started off better than fine.” He says jokingly with a smirk on his face.

“Well…that’s just it.” You say slightly embarrassed about what you're about to ask the sweet man rubbing your feet as he does most nights after a long day at work. “Could you help me with something?”

“Depends on what it is but anything for you love.”

“Could you…help me spend some time with Jake?” You say almost at a whisper.

He ceases rubbing your feet and looks at you with those deep brown pleading eyes. “You know how he is…but if it’s important to you I’ll try.”

You sit up enthusiastically and curl into Stevens' side wrapping your arms around his waist in a gripping hug.

“Okay, what does he like to eat?Does he have any favorite hobbies?What kind of shows does he watch? What’s his favorite color?…you realize your rambling like Steven does when he’s giving a tour at the museum, not even giving the poor man a chance to answer.

“Slow down love, one thing at a time.” He furrows his brow deep in thought. “Oh bollocks, I’m afraid I’m no help. I don’t know what he likes to eat, I’m pretty sure his favorite hobby is murder, he barely watches television and…well.” He chuckles to himself.

“What’s so funny.” You say slightly defeated

“Oh it’s nothing, it's just that I’m pretty sure his favorite color is red since he’s practically always covered in it.”

Steven looks at his reflection in the t.v. and suddenly drops his smile. “Right…well that’s about all I can help you with sorry love.” He stammers out quickly.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” He says as he hangs his head. Your sweet Steven has no idea how helpful he truly is.

You slide your hand to his cheek and tilt his head down at you placing a soft kiss on his lips. You sit up to straddle his lap and you can feel him getting hard for you already. As you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to whisper in his ear, you can tell his breath is ragged.

“I’d like to show you how helpful you are, if you’ll let me?” You bite down on his earlobe and hear his breath catch in his throat.

“I’d like that very much love.”

****

It’s Friday night, it’s been three days since Steven helped you-and you helped Steven. You’ve been planning and hoping that what you have in store will draw Jake out of hiding. If not you’ll just have to live with his silent affections.

Steven is relaxing on the couch as you stand in front of your full length mirror putting on the final touches to your look. It didn’t take much convincing to have him spend the night with you if things don’t go according to plan.

You got your hair done that morning, something you rarely treat yourself too. As you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel slightly turned on- this has to work.

You adjust the straps on your silk red dress and smooth your hands down the front. You slide in your strappy red heels that you hope you won’t have to walk very far tonight. You lean into the mirror to apply your crimson red lipstick to match the red you applied to your nails earlier that day.

As you grab your purse and make your way towards the door you can feel Stevens' eyes on you. You don’t dare glance over at him suddenly feeling like a predator's prey.

“Bye love, I’m going out with some friends, don't wait up for me.”

You reach for the door but an unfamiliar voice stops you in your tracks.

“Bebita I don’t think your boyfriends would be too happy about this.” You turn around to see Jake with his eyes narrowed as if he’s studying your movements.

“My boyfriends don’t care if I go out.” Your voice cracks a little and you're suddenly aware of how dry your throat is.

“I didn’t mean if you go out cariño.” He stands from the couch and you suddenly feel very small. “I mean dressed like this.” He gestures his fingers up and down your body.

“Maaarrrc…Steeeeven?” You mockingly call about the flat. “I guess they aren’t here so I’ll be going.”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror next to the door feigning confidence.

“You’ll be staying.” He says in a commanding tone that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.

You grab the door handle and look over your shoulder with the most sultry look you can muster (that you absolutely have not been practicing in the mirror). “Make me.”

He crosses the distance from the couch to you in two steps and pins you against the door with his chest pressed to your back. You can tell you’ve had an affect on him by the way his hard bulge is pressed against your ass. He grips both your wrists with one of his large calloused hands. He leans in close to your ear and breathes in deep.

“New perfume?” He says in a low husky tone.

He licks a stripe up your neck and gently bites down on your earlobe. Drawing a small whimper out of you.

“Not so talkative now are we hermosa? His chuckles reverberate through your body as he slowly draws his fingers up your thigh. He can feel how wet you are through your panties and a low growl from him sends shivers down your spine.

“This wet for me?” A breathy “ yes” is all you can manage as he drags his fingers through your slit at an agonizing slow pace. He starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you can feel that tell tale sign that you're close to your climax as you clench down on nothing. He knows you're close and he wants to draw this out- you drew him out after all. He ceases his movements and all you can do is whimper.

“Shh it’s ok hermosa I’m going to take care of you.” You try to calm your breathing but he still has you pressed against the door with both hands behind your back.

“Answer my questions and I’ll take care of you.” He says into your ear as his breathing picks up. You give him a quick nod and his grip tightness on your wrist. “Words sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.” He nips at your shoulder with that last word. He resumes his movements dragging his fingers through your slit. “Did you buy this dress for me?”

“Yes.” You answer as he dips two fingers into your soft channel. If not for his grip on your wrists you’d be in a puddle on the floor. “What about these panties, did you buy them for me?” He’s slowly fucking you with his fingers and all you can hear in the flat is your breathy moans.

“Yes.” You say a little louder this time and he presses his fingers on those bundle of nerves inside and you think you might lose your mind.He brings his thumb to your clit as he steadily works you open. He places his knee between your thighs and slowly lifts you up. “Come for me hermosa.” You drop your head back on his shoulder and note down on your lip as you come with a silent cry.

As you come down from your high you realize you’ve never had an orgasm so intense without seeing your boyfriend's face. He slowly puts you down and draws his fingers away and you hiss at the loss.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” He says still with his back pressed to you, his obvious erection putting a strain on Stevens sweatpants.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say in almost a whine not even recognizing your own voice. He spins you around and you can see the hunger in his deep brown eyes, pupils blown wide. He looks very different from Marc and Steven, yet so similar. It takes your breath away how he looks at you like you're his world and also his victim in the same moment.

“I’m sorry about your dress.” He says sarcastically as you look down confused seeing nothing wrong with it. Before you can ask why he takes both hands and rips it down the front as if it was made of paper. “I’m sorry about your panties too.” You close your eyes and prepare yourself for what’s next as you feel a light tug on your hips and the sound of your new red lace panties ripping.

He takes in your form as you're now left in your sheer red bra and strappy heels. One of his hands comes to the back of your head and he pulls you into a bruising kiss, he kisses you like he’s been starving for you. Like if you pull away you’ll disappear. Your hands come to his arms tracing the familiar muscles you’ve come to know and love and this just feels right.

His thick bulge is pressed against your abdomen, as he grinds his hips into you pressing you further into the door. Precum now staining Stevens sweatpants (which you’ll have to hear about later). You suddenly feel very exposed and you slowly push him off you. As you both catch your breath he looks as though he’s done something wrong and your heart aches because you just want the man to be as exposed as you are.

“Clothes off.” Is all you can manage-real articulate.

Jake strips in two seconds flat and your thanking whatever Egyptian god that he didn’t rip Stevens clothes.

You’ve seen this body many times but as he stands before you with his thick cock, tip red and aching steadily leaking precum you feel as if it’s the first time. He backs you against the door again and grabs your face with both hands as he stares into your eyes.

“Tell me again.” He says in a pleading tone.

“I want you to fuck me Jake.”

You yelp in surprise as he grabs your waist and hoists you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes his hand and wraps it around his thick cock slowly coating it with your slick just teasing your entrance. You whimper at the feeling as he pushes in and you both moan in unison at the stretch. You drop your head to his shoulder and he’s not moving but you desperately want him too.

You dig your heels into his ass and he groans as his grip tightens on your waist.

“Just give me a moment cariño.” And you almost don’t recognize his voice. You squeeze your core around his throbbing cock and that’s all the moment he needs before he’s thrusting into you at a bruising pace.

“Oh. Fuck. Jake..” your words are punctuated with each thrust as he fucks too against the door.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy is so tight.” He’s quickly falling apart as he slams you down on his cock over and over. “I can’t believe I waited this long to do this.” Your moans in his ear as you hold on for dear life are going to send him over the edge. But not before you. His movements slow and you can feel his thick cock drag through your walls as you drop your head to the crook of his neck.

“Tell me what you want cariño.” He turns his head to see his reflection in the mirror next to the door.

“Fuck me harder Jake please.” You’re practically crying at the sensation as if it’s your first time. He smirks at his reflection and your pleas are all he needs.

“I love when you beg hermosa.” He holds you up with one arm and brings his thumb to your clit as he resumes his pace, roughly fucking you against the door. He can feel your pussy gripping his cock as your slick coats both your thighs.

“Fuck. Me. Right. There.” You're screaming now and will surely get a noise complaint, but you can’t care at this moment you’ve wanted for so long. Your vision goes white as you reach your climax and you're digging your nails into his back as you come undone. That’s all it takes for him before he comes with a choked sound as he’s shooting hot ropes of cum into your quivering channel. He groans in your ear as he slowly rocks his hips up pinning you to the door.

You don’t know how long you stay like that trying to catch your breath as you both come down from your high. It feels like you're floating and you realize he hasn’t put you down but he’s carrying towards the bed. He gently lays you down and you both wince as he pulls out of you. He places a soft kiss on your sweat soaked forehead. He takes off your heels and brings you one of Stevens shirts to sleep in.

“I’ll be right back cariño.” Your smiling to yourself as you watch him walk towards the bathroom.

Sleep is starting to claim you as he makes his way back to you with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your thighs and your swollen folds. He tosses the towel in the direction of the hamper not caring if he makes it. He lays down beside you and pulls your back into his chest wrapping you in a deep hug.

“Shouldn’t you call your friends so they aren’t worried?” He mumbles into your hair.

“Hmm?” Your blissed out brain can’t grasp what he’s talking about. He chuckles lowly to himself.

He’s not sure if you're asleep when he whispers to himself.

“I really really love pancakes too.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[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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