#then i just started rambling about marc at the end

[wortsandall]

the lies we tell ourselves (a moon knight au)

ive got moon knight brain rot so i actually have an almost outline for a two part moon knight series which is an exploration of the moon knight system dynamics and how that might change if they realize there's more than just the three of them with a tiny sprinkle of meet the avengers...(very small i want to focus on character and introspection and the avengers would be more of a vehicle for that)

basically i created two more alters, one based on an idea that briefly showed up in moon knight comics-a child alter-and a teen alter.

i wanted to explore dissociative identity disorder alter roles as well so in this, they fall into what I think would be fitting:

Marc Spector-host

Steven Grant- physical caretaker and emotional protector

Jake Lockley- gatekeeper and physical protector

Rose (child alter)- trauma holder

Leo (teen alter)-prosecutor -> caretaker arc

i've had this idea in my head for months but once I started reading the comics it started to solidify. i wanted to explore marc's idea that they are broken. that idea pops up over and over again in the comics. he's being told over and over that he is broken and there is nothing that could fix him. he keeps going back to this idea that if he can make himself "whole" it would somehow make him less broken before realizing that he needs to embrace steven and jake. and i love that.

but i wanted to show the struggle of having to embrace steven and jake as well as coming to terms that he isn't broken. instead of embracing the fact the he is, i think it'd be interesting to see him learn that he's faced a lot of trauma, sure, but he isn't broken. he works the way that he is. in fact he even thrives when he accepts that this is his reality. he may work differently than other people but thats okay.

add in his control issues and its clear how difficult of a conclusion that would be for him to make. so the first part of this "more than 3 alters au" would be about jake. i think jake would be something he'd have trouble accepting. he's still in that journey to realizing that he's not as broken as everyone keeps telling him, that there's nothing to fix. he's come to terms with steven, that's easy for him. he's always known steven. but jake? who in the show he's only seen in violent moments? someone unpredictable. i think that visible loss in the façade he's been trying to cultivate would be very hard.

and i love angst. so i cant help but think about that struggle that marc would already have with jake. only for that peace he'd brokered with jake to cause an avalanche of other things he didn't want to think about to fall on his head. that's what the second part of would about- this lie of control finally completely falling apart. the realization that there's more that you've been hiding about yourself. enter the other two alters and what they've experienced causing marcs view to crack even further. i want to challenge the idea that steven was the first alter. i want him to confront that what he did to steven, hiding things and creating false memories, could've been done to him too.

i don't believe that you can come to the conclusion that you aren't broken, that nothing needs fixing, if you don't first know/confront yourself and your truth. and i think marc needs to do that. and im going to make him. so the first part will be almost exclusively about marc, written in his pov. and the second part will switch pov between all of them but the main ones will be steven, marc, and jake.

*any other thoughts, brain rots and/or updates will be in my tlwto au tag*

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

can i ask a very soft smut after a little fight between a married couple? you choose who you wanna write about! i love your works💛

omg I love stuff like this!?! and thank you :( I chose marc bc uhm bc well it’s marc. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

REFUGE.

marc spector x fem!reader (no mention of moon system)

word count. 980

warnings. 18+ only!! mentions of arguing, hurt and comfort bc I love it, no foreplay, unprotected pinv, reassuring loving sex. mdni

Marc is often a difficult person to deal with. It wasn't his fault, really. It's just how he is, the way he grew up. Sometimes, he was challenging, frustrating, often making your blood boil - but on those other times, he was still that little broken shell of a boy on the inside, needing reassurance and comfort. 

It was just tough to gauge what he needed as he rarely expressed it. 

Like right now, Marc had a tough day and was having trouble putting it into words, and instead of talking it over with you, he slammed the kitchen cupboard doors and banged walls, sneering comments to himself when he thought you weren't paying attention.

You tried to initiate a conversation, asking him what had happened and why he was acting the way he did. He thought you were starting a fight, which couldn't have been further from the truth - you just wanted to know what had got him so worked up. 

You just stood there, taking his mild verbal lashing, waiting for him to come to his senses. You knew that it wasn't healthy to be on the receiving end, but he was starting to get the route of the problem, so you decided to stick it out. 

"Marc... Marc," you whisper, trying to cut through his rambling. "Marc," you repeat, voice slightly louder than before.

He exhales, blowing a harsh breath as he leans back onto the counter behind him. He steadily drags his palm over his mouth and down his chin, like the action was to calm himself.

You nod, comfortingly almost, slowly walking towards him with open arms. You envelop him in an embrace, holding him tight as your hands run down his back, stroking reassuringly. 

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, words muffling against your skin. "I didn't..." he sighs, holding you tighter. 

"It's okay," you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. 

He pulls his head back to look down at you, silently moving you from the spot between his neck and shoulder. He shakes his head, a soft frown lining his lips. "No, it's not," his brows knit, dark hairs pulling together in the middle. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't speak to you like that."

"Marc," you say, your tone lingering, almost as if you were cooing at him. 

He removes his hands which rest on your mid back, and brings them up towards your face. He places his warm, roughened palms over your cheeks, holding you in his hands - his gaze remains focused on you, pretty, brown eyes half-lidded. "I'm sorry," he whispers, speaking softly within the close distance.

"I know," you nod, his hands moving with the delicate motion of your head. 

His eyes flicker over you, darting from your softened eyes to your lips, seeming like he was debating with himself. But when he hears a gentle intake of breath from you, he leans into you, kissing you sweetly and urgently. 

But it doesn't stop there. The kiss only grows more desperate, tongues clashing, moans muffling - murmured whispers filling the kitchen as your hands roam one another. Marc swaps places with you, turning you so your back is against the counter, the top of your ass hitting the edge as he pushes up against you. His chubbed-up cock prodding at your lower stomach. 

He makes haste movements as he lifts you onto the counter behind, your legs instinctively spreading to allow him closer - his lower half slotted comfortably between your open legs. One of his hands part from your waist and slips into the waistband of his lounge pants, sliding into the front of his boxers where he starts to palm over his cock - rolling it in his hand. His other undoes the bow of your dressing gown, letting the fabric open and expose just enough of you. He inhales sharply, the lewd image of you making his cock throb in his hand. 

Your eager fingers tug on his bottoms, making the fabric fall and pool around his ankles. You glance up at him, eyes soft, sweet and forgiving - silently pleading Marc.

His gaze mirrors yours, but his is slightly different - as if he’s asking you something, like he is seeking reassurance. It was like you were silently communicating, as though you knew what the other person was thinking - familiar with one another's thought pattern. 

He brings his hand up towards his chin and spits into his palm, and then rubs the saliva over the head of his cock, the action looking like he was polishing himself. He grips the base of his cock, thumb resting on the upperside as he guides himself closer to you, his tip brushing against your wet slit. 

He presses his head into you, slowly sinking into your unprepped pussy - letting you take him at your own pace. His forehead drops into the crook of your neck, his strained murmurs brushing against your exposed shoulder. 

You adjust your hips, allowing more of his cock into you - wrapping your arms and legs around him. You curse at the consuming feeling of him, how your walls melt around him so perfectly, all of you taking him so well. 

Your fingers trail up his back and behind his neck, grazing into the short curls at the back of his head, softly stroking over his scalp as you hold him close.

Marc mutters a string of apologies into your heated skin, mindlessly verbalising his shame from earlier as he continues to fill you with his cock - sinking deeper into your pretty pussy. His veins brushing against the ridges of your walls so deliciously.

You coo at him, telling him how you forgive him and love him, all while letting him seek refuge within your warm cunt and warm, loving touch.

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER : 4.2K WRDS

A/N : Originally, my goal with these preferences was to try write more than 1k words. I ended up writing a lot more as you can tell by the word count! I’m really proud of myself for that to be honest. Anyway, here’s some preferences for staying at the Moon Boys’ flat for the first night after spending some time with them. Warning for a pinch of angst with Steven’s, anxiety with Marc’s, and badly written Spanish in Jake’s (sorry </3)

STEVEN GRANT .

You and Steven have been friends for a while now. Both of you moved into the same apartment building around the same week. With the agreement to make the most of it, the two of you decided you would meet up every evening after Steven’s shift to talk.

Sometimes you guys would simply talk and you’d give him a ride home since he didn’t have a license. Other times, you’d greet each other with the goofiest grins with the knowledge that you planned an outing or movie night together.

Earlier today, he came beaming to you at your guys’ usual hang-out spot about how a coworker of his asked him out. The stars were fresh in the sky, the sun only had set a little bit ago. The wind was getting his thick curls messier than they already had been from his long work day. He squinted while looking for you and immediately smiled when he found you. The last thing you would’ve expected was for him to tell you about going on a date with his coworker, let alone someone he barely knew.

He was doing his usual when he was excited; talking with his hands, exaggerating his facial expressions, changing his tone with each little word.

As much as you were admiring him at that moment, it did wring your heart dry. Hearing him ramble about how excited, happy, and confident he was about this date felt like a stab in the chest. You didn’t know why.

You had never felt the need to stop him from doing something. Hell, you always encouraged Steven to follow his heart and do what he desired. At that moment, you were regretting it heavily. All the encouragement. All the praising. All the pep talks. All of it led up to him accepting a date with one of his damn coworkers.

“You alright? Got something bothering you, mate? Hello,” he had asked with concern. He stopped with the exaggeration for a second to check up on you. You couldn’t convince yourself that man didn’t have feelings for you. Yet, you shook your head no and shrugged your shoulders. You hated having to lie to him or try to shove your feelings to the side. “It’s nothing. Just happy for you! I can’t believe someone finally asked you out,” you explained to him with your hand on his bicep. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down to his forearm, and wrist, and settling on his hand. His pulse was a little fast as you had felt it throb under your thumb. Both of you gave each other an unnecessarily long but welcomed gaze. His pulse quickened.

Steven got a bit flushed and instinctively pulled his hand out from under your palm. The bench beneath your hand was cold and wet from the rain earlier today. You were already missing the warmth of his flesh, but he was right fucking in front of you.

“Why does this hurt so bad,” you ask yourself now as you sit on your bed. You’ve been asking yourself this since you got back to your flat. You’re beating yourself up for thinking about him so much. “That bitch doesn’t even know him! I don’t know why she thinks she deserves a second of his time. She’s not nearly enough for him. She’s not good enough for him,” you growl to yourself in anger. Out of your rage, you start to do something that you never do unless Steven’s over. You grab some popcorn, slam it in the microwave, and impatiently get your couch ready for a movie marathon.

“I bet he only gave her a chance because she’s so far out of his league that he would’ve felt bad about rejecting her. Maybe Donna treats her better than she treats Steven so she’s using him to get some praise and maybe a promotion,” you mutter through gritted teeth while walking around your flat, tossing pillows and throwing blankets onto your couch.

Then comes a knock. You and Steven’s knock. The one that lets you two know you’re the one who’s knocking. Your rage pauses as you stand there in silence. “Hiya… The date didn’t go too well, just letting you know. I’ll be in my flat if you need me,” he explains to you before you hear him walk off. Your heart that was previously wrung of all concern for him as he explained the situation to you earlier soaked up his words like a sponge.

You internally debated what the best thing to do would be. However, your brain interrupts itself when the microwave begins beeping. A groan leaves your lips as you shuffle over to grab the popcorn. You hold the bag in your hands before realizing that this is the solution. This was what would help Steven feel better. A movie marathon together. You and him alone, cuddled up on the couch, snacking on popcorn, making the dumbest comments as you both watch.

You take no time throwing on your pajamas, grabbing your phone, and getting anything else you need while the popcorn cools on the counter. It almost falls on the floor when you try to grab it the first time, but you thankfully catch it. You run out your door, walk a few feet, and knock on Steven’s. “Steven, can we have a movie night together? Please,” you plead. You know he can be a bit selfless sometimes, but you need him to know you’re concerned about him right now. No excuses, no lies. “I just wanna do something to cheer you up. You sounded so sad when you were at my door earlier. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m here for you now,” you anxiously ramble before his figure greets you. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. Don’t have work tomorrow either,” he comments as the slightest smile begins to creep onto his face.

The two of you let out a deep sigh once you’re settled on his bed. He explained he didn’t want to sit on the couch because he wanted to be comfortable. Feeling pity for him, you quickly accepted his request for you guys to get cozy under his covers.

“There we go! Much better, yeah,” he asks while looking at you. Despite Steven’s flat being dark aside from his laptop screen, his eyes seem to be softer. His gaze reminds you of the moment you shared earlier. His flesh getting warmer. His pulse throbbed quicker under your touch.

“Now, let me just get my computer going,” he murmurs, pulling you out of your memories. You smile back at him and nod softly. A soft giggle leaves your lips as he awkwardly pushes it to you. As much as a nerd he is, he’s never been tech-savvy. You quickly start up the movie while Steven moves back and forth on his thighs. Once it loads, you push the computer in front of you two and pull the covers over your lap.

In due time, you and Steven finally cuddle against each other. Your knees are tucked up under your stomach with your shins pressed against his thighs. Your arms loosely circle his hips while one of his hands is settled on your waist. Your head rests against his bicep. The only sounds that fill his flat are the movie’s audio, sheets ruffling, wind whistling against the window and the sound of deep breathing.

“I wanna let you know I’m sorry for ignoring my feelings,” Steven starts. You don’t look up at him but still display a confused expression on your face. “I love you. I have loved you. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he says. You can feel his skin begin to heat. Before he can start to verbally apologize and insist he didn’t mean it, you let him know what you’ve wanted to say for a while. “I love you too, Steven,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing yourself against his thigh and torso to give his lips a soft and gentle kiss. He kisses you back with the same loving energy. It’s a back-and-forth of soft pecks and lingering kisses before both of you grow too tired to continue. You fall asleep with your limbs tangled with one another’s, finally at peace with your feelings for each other.

MARC SPECTOR .

Anxious. If there was one word to describe Marc Spector when he’s around you, it would be anxious. Sweaty palms, clammy hands, flickering gaze, and an inability to be still. He started acting this way when both of you had a conversation about your mutual feelings.

It’s been almost a month since that conversation. Now the two of you sat at the warm, homey restaurant that wasn’t too far from his flat. Marc’s gaze was pitiful. He looked at you with his big, brown eyes that were all glossy from the reflection of the light.

“You look amazing tonight, love,” he told you tenderly. Your cheeks warm before you attempt to return the compliment. “And I could say the same. You always look so good no matter what you wear,” you beamed.

He reached his hand on top of the table, beckoning your own to join his. You chuckle softly and put your palm against his. His fingers make their way under your hand until they meet his thumb to carefully wrap around yours. He slowly runs his thumb against the soft flesh between two of your fingers. You sigh at the gentle gesture. Even before the shared confession, Marc was always prone to being gentle with you, whether it was his words or his actions.

Both of your eyes shared the same sight. A warm meal in front of you, the light from the inside of the restaurant shining perfectly onto your lover’s face, and the most welcoming hand lovingly wrapped around your own. None of this felt real. This must’ve been what Marc felt like all the time; terrified that this was just a dream or a hallucination. Luckily both of those anxieties were false. Neither of you had anything to worry about. Both of you were real and both of you were here to stay with each other.

After a few minutes of admiration and silence, you slip your hand away from his so you can both begin to eat. Hums and quiet groans of satisfaction leave your lips. Despite the restaurant not being a main chain, it had some of the best damn food you’ve ever eaten. It doesn’t even take you two hours to finish your meals. You and Marc have decided that you’ll each pay half if the two of you plan a date together, rather than on your own. He holds your hand while you walk over to the side of the street, hailing a taxi for you two.

Now the two of you are at his apartment complex. You immediately notice his anxious mannerisms getting more apparent. “Is something wrong, Marc,” you ask sweetly, not wanting to assume anything. “Yeah. I’m fine, darling,” he assured you, nervously biting his bottom lip. You squeeze his hand a bit to remind him that you love him. He squeezes back with a bit more force.

The elevator takes you up to his floor. He fumbles with his keys as you guys make your way to his flat. “Give me a second,” he mutters while fumbling with his key ring. He gets the key in and takes a deep breath before turning it to open the door. His expression tells you that his mind is racing with unwelcome thoughts. “Come on in,” he says hesitantly while motioning you to go in as he takes the key from the lock.

You’re somewhat confused. Marc had never let you come over to his flat. You assumed that his mental illness caused his place to be a bit of a wreck, maybe he found the state of it embarrassing, or he simply liked being at your place more. Your brows furrow as you take in the area. It isn’t nearly as bad as you expected it to be. Sure the whole flat has papers and books scattered across it, but not in a way that makes it look like a mess. However, Marc quickly objects to your internal dialogue as if he could read your mind.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to clean up before we just spontaneously planned our date tonight,” he groaned wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Marc, don’t say that. Your flat is just about as messy as mine. Plus, I don’t expect you to have a picture-perfect place! You live here. It’ll get a little messy from day-to-day life,” you told him with a soft smile. You set down the bag you’d brought to stay the night before walking over to him. Your arms encircled his waist and rested at the small of his back. His muscles tensed in response to your touch. You leaned your head to press your face against his chest. “I promise it’s fine. I already feel at home,” you hummed while adding a bit of pressure to your embrace. He sighed deeply before giving in to your reassurance. He nodded his head in agreement and returned the gentle gesture. His arms reached from his sides to your neck, one hand tracing circles on your shoulder blade while the other rubbed the back of your head. He tilted your head up from his chest and smiled. “There’s that stunning face I love so much,” he cooed softly before kissing your forehead. “Do you ever stop,” you tease while cocking your head to the side. “What? Loving you? Never,” he replied before giving you a quick squeeze.

The next few minutes are the most soothing and peaceful you’ve had in a long time. The way Marc holds you feels so protective and safe. Your shared body warmth helps both of you melt into each other. His heart beats heavily in his chest while you press your bodies together. A soft, slow sway is shared between you. Heavy breathing, quiet mumbles of only the most tender words, hands fiddling with the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You ready for bed yet, baby,” he asks softly, leaning forward to whisper to you. He gently kisses your neck while awaiting your answer. Your hand reaches up to play with his dark curls and you begin to hum with satisfaction from the kisses. “Mm. I guess,” you drag out in a sigh. “Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles. Before leading you to his bed, Marc smiles against your neck, giving the soft skin a small nip.

You manage to maneuver over to his bed as he continues to stay glued to you. He turns you around and flops back on his bed, pulling you on top of him securely. You let out a bit of a yell when he does that. He pulls his arms tighter around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. “Fuck. That feels so good,” he groans. This man loves having you close, having you lay on him, smelling you, sweet things like that. However, they all came from a deep-rooted fear of losing you or that you’re simply a hallucination. So any time he convinces, or forces, you to lay on top of him, he is in utter bliss.

You start to get a little antsy in his grasp. His arms hold you tightly, but you still tilt side to side. “Marc! You can let me go now,” you exclaim playfully. He grunts in disagreement. “I’m not letting you go.” You sigh softly before moving all of your weight to one side. As expected his arms stay around your waist. He was insistent on not letting you go.

“You win,” you groan softly. He moves his body so he can rest his head on the crook of your neck. “I know, darling. Now we can go to sleep since we have that settled,” he hums against your skin. Both of you fall asleep entangled with each other. His arms stay around your waist like a harness as your hands lay on top of his.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

You and Jake had a date arranged. It was more of him planning a surprise for you and you agreeing to it. Nonetheless, you were intensely excited.

As he requested, you packed a bag to stay the night at his place and had your pajamas on. It was a bit suspicious. You had high hopes that he wasn’t going to attempt to take you somewhere in the state you're in right now. You’ve continually had a habit of doing one or two little things just to make sure you felt attractive. As you thought about how Jake loved to fuck around with you, he never did it in a publicly humiliating way. The idea was swift to flee your mind as briefly as it came.

You hear a hard and heavy knock on your door that made you gasp. That was definitely him. The way he’d knock so harshly never failed to get a reaction out of you. You shake your head in disapproval while moving to grab your bag. “I’ll be there in a second, Jake,” you shout to him. “Hurry up, precioso! I want to see that face I’ve missed so much,” he weeps almost childishly. You roll your eyes at his pouting while hauling your bag to your door. You open it and snicker to yourself. He was wearing his pajama just like you were. He definitely had a good plan for the two of you.

“There’s my favorite cabbie,” you beam, your hands quickly reaching to his face. His stubble prickles your hand and presses harder against it when he smiles lovingly at you, his teeth displayed just for his lover. You cant help but smile back at him with the same amount of love on your lips. Your thumbs rub along his cheekbone before you lean forward to kiss him. He hums against your lips before both of you pull back. You move your hands from his stubble inhabited face, down to his chest. His own hand move to rest on your hips, treating them like handles for his hands to hold on to. “I guess you beat me to our little kiss this time. I bet you a back rub that I’ll get you first next time, cariño,” he promised you playfully. You knew he would because he stayed true to his word when it came to you. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t challenge his words. “Sure you will,” you replied.

He led you to his taxi, smiling and rambling about his little surprise the whole way there. You loved the way the would talk to you when you didn’t give him any feedback. You could swear on your life that if you never spoke again, he would still find some way to keep talking to you. Once the two of you reached his taxi, he dramatically cleared his throat. “Don’t even try, ángel,” he quips with the assumption that you would try to open the door for yourself like you did last time, which ended in a horribly long lecture about how you deserve to be treated like royalty. You feign disappointment as he politely walks you to the passenger side of the car. Before your hand can even reach the handle in attempts to mess with him, he grabs your hand and clicks his tongue at you. “Dios mío,” he mutters before opening the door for you. “Now you can get in,” he says while motioning for you to enter the car. Just to make Jake sure that you won’t keep playing with him, you gently hold his free hand so you can safely step into the vehicle without tripping. “Safety first,” he hums before grabbing the seatbelt and buckling you in. He leans down to kiss your cheek before shutting the door. He enters the driver’s side rather quickly as if he’s in a rush. “Let’s get going,” he says happily as he begins driving his taxi.

During the drive to wherever Jake is taking you, he keeps asking you question after question. “How was your day?” “Did work go well for you?” “You remember that I love you, right, mi vida?” You groan, chuckle, sigh, give any reaction you can to his questions. “Jake! Enough with the questions,” you tease as you softly nudge his arm. “I’ve told you anything you could ask about me. I swear you’ve got enough information to write a biography on me,” you continue with a playful smile. “Okay, okay, my apologies, precioso,” he chuckles in response to your teasing before he parks in front of a tall building. “But there’s one more question I have to ask you. I promise it’s the last one for now,” he swears while holding your hand for a genuine effect. “Wanna have a sleepover,” he asks with that same goofy grin on his face from earlier. He smiles so hard and hopefully that his mustache pushes up against his nose. “Please,” he asks sweetly while squeezing your hand. You return the happy expression and nod in agreement. That was his plan this whole time. Get you dressed up nice and cozy in your pajamas, drive you to his apartment at night on a route you haven’t been through before, and invite you to have a damn sleepover. God, you couldn’t get enough of this man and his stupidly tender ideas. “Yeah, we can have a sleepover,” you chuckle softly.

Once you two reach his flat he opens the door, like a gentleman of course, for you. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek that earns you a soft smile and a thanks of his own. “Where should I set my stuff,” you ask him awkwardly. “Give it here, hermoso,” he says, practically beaming at the idea of helping you once more. Without hesitation you hand the bag over to him. He takes it and sets it under his desk before sitting on his bed and waving you over with his arms. “Come on, doll. I’m not going to bite you,” he pouts before he begins to grasp the air like you’re just out of reach. You sigh at his whining and walk over to his bed with a smile.

He doesn’t even let you sit down before he clings to you. He pulls you between his legs by the waist as you stand in front of him, letting out a soft gasp when he does so. He slightly lifts your shirt up, just enough so your stomach is exposed. He sighs softly before leaning forward to press his face against it. “Muy bueno,” he purrs as he feels the warmth of your stomach heat his face. He hums with his cheek pressed to your stomach as his hands slide up and down the back of your thighs. You can’t do anything except bite the inside of your cheek and blush as he continues. “Tan bueno para mí,” he praises, emphasizing that it’s for him. “Jake,” you whine softly. He lets out a soft grunt in response. “I’d prefer if you let me lay down before I faint from how affectionate you’re being,” you plead to him. Out of respect for you, he sighs and releases you from his grasp. You ruffle his hair a bit before crawling under the covers and awaiting for him to do the same. He follows soon after, now looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes of his. He pulls you flush against him with his arms crossed behind your back. “You never said anything about not giving you affection while you lay down,” he says playfully while smiling. You’re already flushed again just by the idea. He shifts a bit further up along the bed so he can begin to shower you with love.

He starts at your forehead, pecking every inch of skin he can get. His hands crawl up from your shoulder blades to the back of your head so he can caress you loving and hold you in place. He moves to your cheeks and nose, hands coming to cup your face. He kisses from your left cheek, kisses your nose once before pausing for a moment to make some savory eye contact, then moves on to your right cheek. He pulls back for a second and you give each other a knowing look. “Please,” you whisper to him in a gentle tone. “Anything for you, mi corazón,” he mutters back. His hands come to cup your jaw on either side, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his other fingers lightly grasp the area behind your ears. He kisses your lips softly before pulling back. You give him a pitiful look before kissing him back. You keep going at it with each other, eventually letting the kisses linger for a few seconds, then adding your tongues into the mix. It’s a little messy, but it’s so tender. “I love you more than anything, mi vida. Anything,” he says to you before kissing you one last time, lips pressed to yours as if they’re a lifeline for him. You hum softly in satisfaction as he shifts your body for you, pressing your head to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. He traces shapes with his fingers and scratches your back gently until you’re asleep in his secure embrace.

[winniethewife]

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

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

Words: 634

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

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

~

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

~

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

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

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

~

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

~

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

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

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

“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

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

[gatorbites-imagines]

They need to make a second Moon Knight season. People also need to make more Moonboys x Male reader, not a lot for some reason. Here’s my pitch, Moonboys with a Summer like s/o. Like they are just like super hyper and cheerful but also really temperamental and kinda scary, lots of emotions at once type of person.

Please good Sir, I beg thee🙏🌆

Moonboys x Summerlike male reader

Headcanons

It’s been a while since I watched moon knight or written about the boys, and I feel like im forgetting what their personalities are like :/

Marc Spector

I’m not sure Marc knows how to deal with you in the beginning with you having so many strong emotions wrapped inside you at the same time. Its probably a bit intimidating for him, since he himself tries to stay coolheaded and focused on the mission.

After a while, Marc would get used too it though, and would come to enjoy it since its part of who you are. He does end up floundering sometimes when your emotions get a little too bright or loud all of a sudden, and he needs to figure out what caused it.

Knows some de-escalation exercises he’s gotten form Steven that he helps you go through when you start to get a little too angry, or angry enough for it to start effecting your choices and actions. Marc wouldn’t want you to end up doing something you might come to regret later.

Steven Grant

Steven would be a little more prepared to have a partner whose emotions can be quite strong and a little all over the place. He might have to catch up sometimes, but he’s more likely to match your vibe. It might cause a bit of a loop, especially when he gets excited talking about his interests and you just egg him on.

Knows multiple types of de-escalation exercises or focusing exercises, that he needs to use himself quite regularly. This means hes great at helping talk you down or get you to focus on something else when you get a little too angry or frustrated on something.

Quite enjoys how happy you can be at times, especially on days where Steven himself is feeling stressed. Its like a breath of fresh air, or maybe a shot of espresso.

Jake Lockley

Even worse than Marc when it comes to dealing with all your strong different emotions in the beginning, he just doesn’t show it. Jake is more the type to lay low and observe, letting him feel out what’s on the agenda today before he interacts.

He doesn’t talk much, so he’s more than happy to sit back and listen to you ramble for hours if you get excited about something, or just need to angry rant about one thing or another that pissed you off today.

When you start to get too worked up, both positively or negatively, Jake will wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to his side. Or he will grab your hand and give it a squeeze. Not enough to hurt, but enough to bring you down to earth so you guys can think whatever is going on through logically.

[little-worm-grant]

Moonboys: Top Notch Banter

Marc Spector & Steven Grant

404 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Steven's all fired up and trying to explain British things to Marc. All of this is complete nonsense and none of it should be taken seriously.

Notes: Inspired by this post. Was funny to me it ended up being 404 words.

Marc was ready to pull his hair out. Staring forlornly back towards the reflection where his counterpart had been driving him crazy for the better part of a day.

They’d argued earlier and Steven decided there was no peace to be had. He chose violence, though nothing like Marc or Jake’s. Talking to himself mostly. Rambling, rambling, rambling. All in the constant vicinity of Marc. Making it near impossible to concentrate. If he couldn’t beat it. He tried joining it.

“But what does cheeky Nando's mean?? It has to have a meaning.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. He was verging on losing his own sanity.

“Mate it’s hard to explain.” Steven started with a disappointed sigh. “It’s just like one day you’ll just be with your mates having a look in JD.”

“… right.” Marc answered. Finding none of it right. He really was trying to follow along. Steven continued on with little breath between his strung-together words of gibberish.

“And you might fancy curry club at the ‘Spoons but your lad Calum, who’s an absolute ledge and the Archbishop of Banterbury will be like, ‘Brevs, let’s have a cheeky Nando's instead.’ And you’ll think ‘Top. Let’s smash it.’”

Hand rubbing over his face to comprehend this level of fuckery. Marc stared for the longest time.

“What are you saying?? You’re not even British? Have you picked this up off the internet?”

“Oi! You wot. Don’t say that. I’ll have you.” Steven pointed his finger up threateningly. “I’ll clap your ears together, I swear on me mum.”

Marc inhaled longingly for a moment of peace. Head tilting back to stare at the ceiling. It was either he put up with this for another hour or say what he’d been meaning to say.

“Alright. Fine. I really can’t listen to you anymore. I’m sorry I ate the last Oreo.”

“Too right! I knew it was you! Knobhead. What’re you like?”

“Did you even know half the shit you were talking about?”

“Course! JD’s a shop you have a gander in. And everyone knows ‘Spoons. Solid place if you fancy a pint in the beer garden. Even if it tastes like piss.”

“Okay?”

And still, somehow, none of it was okay for Marc.

“Gotta love a cheeky Nando’s when the occasion calls for it. Just don’t invite any ledges or Archbishops of Banterbury unless you wanna get wankered.”

“Steven. I’m begging you, please. Forget I ever asked.”

[joyful-soul-collector]

Eclectic Ensemble

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley x gn!reader (reader wears slightly more masculine clothing but other than that it's pretty neutral)

Summary: Reader decides they're going to ask the moon boys out on a date. Things do not go perfectly to plan

Tags: SFW, asking out, neighbors to lovers (is that a tag??), swearing, uhhh reader is a major fucking dork who talks to their cat like it can understand them, no TWs it's all fluff

Wordcount: 1288

Read on Ao3

You couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You’d had crushes before, and those were tolerable, you would daydream, but you’d snap back to reality at some point, and go about your day like normal. 

With the man across the hall though… that was something else entirely. 

You tried to convince yourself it was just the mystery of him, the fact that he seemed to have three different accents depending on the day, how one day he’d be cheerful and awkward while the other he’d be suave or stand-offish or nervous. 

But you couldn’t convince yourself of that, because even after he explained to you that he had DID and was not in fact a method actor of some kind, you still found yourself fascinated by him despite the mystery being solved. 

Fascinated by all three of them honestly. 

You’d talked to each of them in the hall before, learned things about them, even visited Steven at the museum a couple days ago. That’s what started it honestly, you’d chatted for hours after he got off work, each of them periodically switching out to have turns to speak with you. Sitting next to them by the fountain, rambling on about anything and everything as the sky grew darker and darker, it was the most fun you’d had in ages. And by the end of the night, with the way you couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts of them, you’d think you were in love with all three of them.

Which is also part of the reason you were so nervous to be doing this. 

You folded the collar of your dress shirt down, sighing at your reflection in the mirror on your closet door. 

“What do you think? Too much?” You turned to look at your cat, who was sitting on your desk, not at all minding that she was wrinkling all your papers. She stared at you for a moment, then licked her paw. “Yeah. Too much.”

There’s no way they’ll say yes, you thought as you unbuttoned your shirt. Even if one of them likes me back, what’re the chances the other two will be willing to date me if they don’t like me? Even lower chances that two of them will be interested, and definitely not all three of them. This is such an awful idea, why the hell am I doing this?

As you were undoing the third button you heard someone walking down the hall outside your front door. Normally this wouldn’t be cause for alarm, but you recognized the voice drawing closer and closer. 

“Yeah, I know it’s your turn to choose dinner tonight, but I’m just saying, could you maybe not go wild with the hot sauce this time? You always do that and then leave me and Steven to deal with the stomachache after--”

A voice speaking in Spanish cut him off, and you would’ve started laughing if the panic hadn’t seized you right in that moment. 

They weren’t supposed to be home this early! You were supposed to have another hour to get ready, to rehearse what you wanted to say, to work up enough courage!

You didn’t even stop to think about what you were doing because you could hear them getting out their keys, and if you didn’t do it now you weren’t sure you ever would. So you sprinted to your front door and flung it open. 

There stood the man you’d been waiting for. It was clear that Steven was the one who dressed them that day, wearing his oversized clothes, but the perpetually frowning face 100% belonged to Marc right now. He glanced over his shoulder at you. 

“Oh, hey Y/N! How’re y--” He cut off as he fully turned around to see you, and it was only then that you remembered exactly what you were wearing. 

Not only was your shirt halfway unbuttoned, but you were wearing a rather old tank top underneath it, your bedhead was not the hot kind, you didn’t have any shoes or socks on, and of course, you were wearing a pair of fluffy blue pajama pants covered in cat fur. 

Marc was clearly trying not to smile, but it wasn’t working very well, and for a moment you were glad for it, as Marc seemed to smile the least out of the three. 

“I uh--Well I--Okay I was going to ask you something,” you said with an embarrassed laugh, running a hand through your hair as a nervous habit, but also just to try and get it under control a bit. “But just--Just hang on, lemme put on actual clothes--”

“Pfft, you’re fine, we don’t care about that, you should see the things Marc tries to make us go out in some days,” Jake said, his Spanish accent replacing Marc’s American one. “He would wear pajamas to work if me and Steven didn’t stop him. Go head, what’s up?”

You stared at him for a second, and in that moment you remembered exactly why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them. 

Because no matter who was talking to you, each of them had that same soft look in their eye. The one that made you feel instantly better after an awful day, that made you smile when you were worried, that made you feel like you could be yourself in a way no one else did.

The one that didn’t care at all how disheveled you looked right now, only about the question you wanted to ask him. 

“Do you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for coffee?” you said. Jake blinked, and immediately his demeanor changed, his head tilting to the side as fidgety fingers rose up to touch the strap of his bag. 

“You mean, like a date?” Steven said in his British accent. “You’re asking us out? All of us?”

You nodded and suddenly felt like looking anywhere but at their face, running a hand nervously through your hair again. 

“You uh, you guys can think about it of course, you don’t have to answer right--”

“We’d love to,” Steven interrupted. You looked up to find him smiling brightly at you, the excitement so evident in him he practically glowed. 

“Really? ‘We’ as in, all three of you?”

“Yes, yeah, er, well we've been meaning to for a while really, we wanted to ask you at the fountain the other day but… I dunno, we weren’t sure you liked any of us that way, much less all three of us.”

You gave a small laugh and leaned your arm up on the door frame, shaking your head. 

“I honestly don’t know how I couldn’t like all three of you. Really it’s a surprise that all three of you like me.”

You gestured pointedly to your rather comical outfit, and Steven laughed. 

“I dunno,” he said, tilting his head and gazing at your eclectic ensemble. “It’s kind of cute, in a messy sort of way. Jake and Marc think so too.”

“Oh? Well maybe I’ll wear this on our date then.”

He laughed again, and you chatted for a few more minutes, long enough to set up a coffee date for Sunday, before Jake said he needed to get started on dinner (much to Steven and Marc’s annoyance). 

Once you were back on your flat with the door closed behind you, you punched the air with triumph, letting out a laugh of both relief and excitement. 

“YES, yes yes yes! Fuck yeah!” 

Your cat stared at you with her head cocked as you did a victory lap around your living room, before returning to licking her fur, and you liked to imagine she silently believed in you all along. 

THE END

If you made it this far, congratulations, you have read the first x reader fic I have ever written lol. Lemme know what you think, I hope you enjoyed!

[starlight-writer]

Randomly Cuddling Them

A/n: Hahaha hiiii (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）it's meeeee I'm baaaaack In all seriousness, I've been dealing with a shit ton of stuff and summer depression is kicking my ass. I'm sorry I haven't posted in ages even when I promised I would, I just haven't been able to motivate myself to write. I won't promise you guys a schedule or another fic anytime soon, but I will say that I have no intentions of deleting this blog or stopping writing all together. Just be patient with me and to those who have requested things, I'm sorry I haven't answered them. They'll all come in due time :) In the meantime, have some fluff to make you forget about your depression.

Warnings: none, fluff, slight angst(?)

Gn Reader Masterlist

Steven

Welcomes the cuddle with open arms

He'll ask if you’re ok a few times, just wanting to make sure his darling is feeling well

He'll pet your hair and start talking about his day or a new book he's read to fill the silence

"You wouldn't believe the ending though! The main character has to sacrifice his "

Just sort of talks about anything to fill the comfortable silence, hoping it'll distract you from anything that's stressing you out

Definitely playfully brags to Jake and Marc in the headspace during and after the cuddles

"They wanted to cuddle with me :D"

Once you're ready to pull away, he'll give you a kiss on the forehead and continue reading or whatever it was before, but keeps an eye on you

He isn't sure what brought on the cuddles, and while he loves them, he wants to make sure you're ok

If you start looking upset or frustrated with a task, he'll gently pull you away from whatever you're doing and sit you on the couch

"Lovey, you can finish it later, just sit with me for a bit yeah?"

He'll pull you into his chest and read aloud from his book or ramble about something to distract you

He'll play with your fingers, interlacing them and kissing your finger tips before holding your hand to his face

"Love you, darling"

He'll say in the sweetest voice, you'll forget all about the stresses of the day or the stresses of tomorrow

Mission accomplished

Marc

He's a little caught off guard, but pulls you into his arms eagerly

He'll never turn down cuddles (cough touch starved cough)

He'll run his fingers through your hair or rub his hand up and down your back

He'll ask if you're ok, but won't push past that

He'll stay silent unless you ask him to talk

"Uh... I saw a lizard earlier today. It reminded me of you cause it was cute :)"

He's trying his best

If you stay in his arms for a long period of time, he'll start to think something might be wrong so he'll start making really really bad jokes

"I went to the deli earlier and the sausage they gave me was the wurst :D"

He won't stop until you laugh and he's not above tickling you until you pee your pants

It's like he unlocks a little box inside his head of terrible jokes and playfulness just for the purpose of seeing you smile

After the cuddles session, he'll watch over you carefully

If you start looking stressed or tired or anything but relaxed, he'll pop off with another joke

"Ya know, babe, I used to hate facial hair. But then it grew on me."

Is that a frown on your perfect lips? Not on his watch

"I don't think I told you this before, but I used to be able to play piano by ear. Now I have to play it with my hands."

Eventually, if you start looking too stressed, he'll just pull you into another cuddle session

"Can't have my baby getting stressed."

He'll explain, kissing you on the forehead and shushing you if you try to leave

He'll carry you to bed or the couch, locking you underneath him with his head on your chest

"So comfy, might just fall asleep here."

He snores loudly, trying to coax a giggle or two out of you

And when you fall asleep from the warmth he gives off, he'll watch you with love in his eyes

"Goodnight, babe. I love you."

Jake

There're two ways this could go depending on how he feels

He could be very smug about it, hold you tightly to his chest, mutter things like 'poor bebito/a, so needy for their Papi~' and make sexual or teasing jokes to lighten the mood

Or he could hold you securely in his arms, run his fingers across your back, occasionally kiss your head, and ask in a hushed voice 'what's wrong, mi amor?'

He thrives on physical affection, so either way he's incredibly happy to give it to you

Whether it be a quick kiss, setting his hand on the small of your back as he walks by, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives, or just touching your knee with his in a crowded space, he loves all of it

And depending on why you suddenly held onto him, he'll be very attentive

If he's making jokes when you just want to be held, he'll pick up in it right away and mutter a small apology with a kiss

He'll hum a song he heard on the radio, he'll keep his breathing long and slow to help calm you down if needed, he'll even read you one of Steven's 'boring' books

He's like Marc in a way, they'll both do absolutely everything in their power to make you smile or laugh if the situation calls for it

If you've gotten your fill of cuddles and start to pull away, he'll pout and pull you back down, muttering something about feeling cold without you on top of him

Which is a lie, they run extremely hot which has cancelled many cuddle sessions in the summer because 'It's too hot, Jake! And don't give me those puppy eyes!'

He refuses to let you go until you explicitly tell him you want him to

He'll act all sad, but he lets you go after a passionate kiss

Openly watches you closely afterwards, determined to see any slip of annoyance or frustration so he can whisk you away to your shared room and cuddle the stress away

And the second your brow twitches in frustration, he's coming up behind you and hugging you

"Bebito/a, dance with me."

He'll say, already swaying to the music playing in his head

He'll spin you around and subtly drag you away from the chore or work you were doing with a charming smile and his swaying hips

When you've rested your head on his chest and sigh softly, following the shuffling of his feet and sway of his hips, he knows he's succeeded in calming you down

[ivonhart]

the moon | steven grant x fem werewolf!reader

+ marc spector & jake lockley

— chapter one

| next

masterlist

cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @paper-n-ashes

summary: You've always hated the moon. Hated the way it made your body bend and break into a new form every month. Hated the way it tied you to one of the many gods of it. But you couldn't hate what the moon connected you to…who it connected you to.

a/n: I will be writing DID the way that it is presented in the show so do not expect it to be medically accurate.

The chatter from the surrounding patrons circled around you as you slowly followed behind a group of people being led through the museum; a small smile on your lips as you listened close to the tour guide’s enthusiasm about each item she introduced. You already knew of the things she spoke about, having taken up learning about Egyptian mythology a few years prior, but you quite enjoyed the simplicity of the whole situation. “She pronounced that wrong.”

And with the sudden deep voice owned by the one and only Khonshu ringing in your ears, the smile you once wore fell and the enjoyment growing within you quickly died out. As you came to a full stop in front of the most previous artifact mentioned you pulled your phone from your pocket and placed it against your ear. The group you once followed getting further and further away as you turned to look at the sarcophagus. “What do you want…you old bag of bones?”

Your tone was harsh yet quiet to avoid any echo within the building. Through the reflection of the glass that separated you from the ancient coffin you saw the “eye” of the god looking back at you. The black circle surrounded by bones held a borderline agitated look to it. “You are supposed to be watching over the body…NOT aimlessly walking around!” His sudden change of tone caused you to flinch and scowl. A small growl escaped your mouth out of pure agitation.

“He has a name you know.” You started while leaning towards the glass, taking in the details preserved on the sarcophagus. “He’s not just ‘the body’ you asshole.” The movement in the glass and the lack of skeleton in the reflection told you Khonshu had moved away from you. It didn’t matter however, you knew he heard you. “I still cannot stand how Marc refuses to show himself.” At this point you were talking with no hope for a response, you had even put your phone away, and before you could drone on any further a excited voice cut through the air. “Quite a beautiful thing there, innit?”

The noticeable British accent caused you to turn around, and when you did you saw the very person you were tasked to keep tabs on. Steven Grant. You were always watching over him from a distance…in the shadows safe and out of sight. But now, with him in front of you…it allowed you to finally fully take him in. He was different compared to Marc in every way aside from his looks. Marc held his shoulders back with a high head and deep scowl whilst Steven did anything but. His shoulders were slumped while his eyes were cast to the ground after you looked at him, causing his unkempt curls to fall across his forehead.

You didn’t take into consideration that while you took him in, the two of you stood in silence and unwavering eye contact on your end. With each passing second, the man grew more and more nervous until he eventually began rambling. “But it’s actually rather wicked, yeah.” As he stepped closer, you watched as he brought his finger up and curved it slightly. “They’d take this big metal hook, right?” You followed his finger as it moved up the glass. “And they go up the ol’ nozzle and…” Steven grew animated as he mimicked a suction sound while pulling his arm up. “And all the organs would come out.”

“Except the heart.” Your sudden interruption made him snap back into reality. His wide eyes got scrunched up with the large smile that graced his lips. “R-Right! Yes, the heart.” You watched as he placed his hand over the mentioned organ and smacked it lightly. “The ol’ pumper.” Embarrassment was quick to wash over him while you hummed in amusement. To keep him from simmering in regret for too long, you turned his attention back to the conversation. “Gotta have the pumper to be judged, huh?” A breathy chuckle passed his lips as you eyed him with a small smile before extending your hand out to introduce yourself. He repeated your name while taking your hand in his. “I’m Steven Grant…with a V. Steven with a V.”

-

“Hello there, Mister Golden Man.” Was the first thing from your mouth as you moved your way to sit next to the still man covered in gold. On the rare night you found yourself alone you had decided to go for a walk and eventually found yourself making your way to the familiar plaza. Every night, without fail, Steven would visit the Golden Man and talk with him for some time. And every night, without fail, you were trailing in the shadows watching but never interacting. With a small groan you seated yourself next to the man before continuing.

“Gods above…my bones will never get used to this weather. The cold makes my joints lock up.” You suppose it did make sense why Steven took such a liking to talking to someone who didn’t talk back. After your initial greeting you simply sat in silence while watching the people go on with their daily lives. After some time you suddenly got a whiff of a familiar scent that followed Steven around and as you scanned the slowly disbanding crowds you saw the man. You were confused on why he was here…why he was Steven.

It was rare for you to be split from Marc during missions but there were times that it would happen and he would never fail at sending messages giving him updates. In the back of your mind you knew something must have happened because not only did Marc not inform you of his return, Khonshu was nowhere in sight…but Steven looked so sad. Without much more thought, you sprung to your feet while quickly disposing of whatever cash you had on you in the Golden Man’s hat before making your way over to the man. “Steven!”

As you got closer and locked eyes with him you noted the tear stains running down his cheeks and the full chocolate box in his hands. He called out your name in surprise when you finally caught up to him. “Wha-What are you doing here?” The crack in his voice was clear in your ears as he tried to regain a level tone. “Nothing really. Just people watching.” He was nervous. Shifting from foot to foot, not holding eye contact, the smell of sweat forming on his palms. He didn’t want to show you that he was crying, but you knew.

After a few short seconds you softly spoke. “What’s got you down?” That simple question resulted in you sitting next to him on a nearby bench as he talked about everything on his mind. From his sleeping problems to his “one-fin-wonder” fish named Gus. Or he used to be because now he found himself with two fins. As the minutes passed and the moon grew higher in the sky a large yawn escaped Steven’s mouth, snapping him outta his rapidly moving thoughts. He looked at his watch to see the time. Midnight.

“Oh, bloody-why didn’t you stop me? I’ve just dumped all my baggage you, the pretty lady I met once…well twice now I suppose…” It took him a couple of moments to process what he said. You watched as his eyes went wide before more words came tumbling from his mouth. “O-Oh bollocks, I didn’t mean pret–well I did mean pretty. You are pretty…so pretty. But I shou–There was no reas–I’m so sor–” Steven was cut off by the sound of your laughter.

When he looked at you, your eyes were scrunched up as your head tilted slightly back, the joyful sounds causing your body to move up and down. As the man took in how the moon illuminated your skin in the most perfect way he took note of just how sharp your canines were…and long. Just like the fangs of a dog, or wolf. “Steven, there is no reason to apologize.” You said after finally calming down. “If I didn’t want to be here I would have left long ago. But I like being here…with you. It’s nice.” The words got quiet as you grew nervous over the confession. It was true. After so long of watching him from the shadows, you felt so happy being able to talk with him like a normal person.

Steven’s cheeks grew pink from your words and he quickly cleared his throat. “May I walk you home? I’m afraid I kept you longer than anticipated.” And with those words the two of you began walking down the streets to your apartment. With the time being so late all the buses stopped running which allowed you to talk with Steven more. “You know…I don’t think you’re crazy.” You suddenly said while eyeing the man who held a confused expression after your statement. “Before you said that you think you're going crazy because you can’t remember how you get to some places and all of that.” You wish you could tell him the truth. Tell him about Marc and Khonshu, but you knew it wasn’t your place.

So, you did the next best thing. “You simply have a sleeping disorder. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” With a small shrug you continued. Your eyes straight ahead, ignoring the small glaces the man sent your way. “I’m not able to sleep well either. Insomnia is what they call it.” You weren’t lying. You really did have trouble sleeping and without Marc around it made it even harder. You missed him. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Steven said softly. “No need to be.” A few seconds passed before you giggled. “It’s quite funny.”

You softly bumped your hip into Steven as you continued. “You do anything to stay awake and I wish for nothing more than to fall asleep.” The night air was quickly filled with the soft laughs coming from the two of you before you eventually came to a stop. “Well…this is me.” You said while nudging your chin towards the building. It took Steven a couple seconds to piece together the route in which the two of you took and where you were at now. “Wait…” A soft smile graced your lips as you watched him.

“Bloody hell.” He said with a breathy laugh. “I-I live right across the way.” You faked surprise at the revelation. After Marc decided to let Steven create a life, the man has been making sure to keep you right across from his apartment. “Quite the small world, huh?” You replied softly. A couple of seconds passed before Steven turned to you with the chocolates he held in his hands. “I guess these are yours now, yeah? Since they were for my date.”

Once the last word left his mouth his eyes blew wide. “N-Not that this was a date. I mean it wa-it could have been…oh uh…bollocks. I didn’t mean–” Once more you cut him off with your light laughter and with a large smile, showcasing your sharp teeth he quickly grew enamored with, you took the sweets. “It was a lovely date, Steven.” He inhaled deeply and dropped his head with a smile. You watched him for a few seconds before speaking again. “Isn’t this the part where you ask for my number?” Those words caused his head to snap up. “Wha–” His eyes widened once more before he fumbled around for his phone. The man reminded you of a bunny; wide-eyed and frantic movements. “Yes! Yes, number. Right, yeah.”

-

tag list: @n1ght5h4d3-24 / @sunipostsstuff / @blackholegladiator / @ajeff855 / @daughterofthequeen / @faefanatic / @dropdeadbec / @sgt-morgan / @milk-bulb / @dev-angeline / @griffinkid2187 / @mxltifxnd0m / @badbishsblog / @local-mr-frog / @khaleesihavilliard

[oddballwriter]

Here for smut requ!!

Steven having a crush on shy reader n they go on a date and Marc coaches him on what to say and do cuz Steven is a bit nervous and he knows she likes his hands and him praising her and stuff but he doesn’t know how to go about but Marc does 😼

So when they make it to his apartment the once so gentle Steven became rough and dominant.

PLEASE INCLUDE OVERSTIM DIRTY TALK AND THE USAGE OF “good girl” IF UR COMFORTABLE WITH IT.

Thank u and if u don’t end up doing it sorry for wasting ur time.

Just Go with It

Summary: A very nervous date leads to going over to Steven's place. The both of you are very shy but with the help of Marc, Steven manages to get something started by talking to you and pouring a cup of tea.

Warnings: I didn't actually make smut from this, I'm sorry, but there is talk about the reader having a thing for Steven's hands and being flustered by compliments and praise from Steven. It's kind of a fade to black depending on how you want to look at it. 

Author’s Snip: I know that Anon asked for smut but I just couldn't find it in me to actually write some smut, so I did my best to make it a fade to black instead Also it's not fully what Anon asked but I don't really like the trope of the system swapping without the reader knowing that there even is a system. So yeah. I hope this is good enough.

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

Word Count: 1,574

Steven isn't usually nervous or scared when entering into his own flat, but right now his nerves are all in power drive. After a nice date with you, that he had to have Marc coach him through because he didn't really know what to say or do, Steven, on his own, asked if you wanted to come back to his flat to have some tea and talk some more. Something that he has no idea how he managed to courage up saying when waiting for the bill to come back. And when you said yes, he tried to keep his cool and excused himself to go to the restroom, thankfully empty, to make himself more nervous about the possibilities of what might happen now.

"Why are you freaking out, Steven? You managed to do that on your own." Marc questions in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I didn't mean to open up a bloody can of worms, Marc! I just meant that as in actually talking and having a cup of tea!" Steven exclaims as he hides his red face in his hands. "Okay? Then just do that, buddy." Marc answers. "But what if she thought that I was secretly asking to hook up with her and she expects me to make a move at some point?" Steven whines. "Well, in that case, I'm sure she'll have a tell once you're there and if that happens then just go with it if you want," Marc suggests, "It's not that hard." he comments. Steven cringes at that last statement, "It's not that hard for you, mate. But it is for me. I've never gotten intimate with a person before.".

Marc sighs. "Steven, listen. This is your date. You managed to do pretty well on your own with a few pointers from me. I can only help you so much. But if it comes to maybe getting laid tonight, I can't really help you. I'm willing to bet that you don't want me in your ear while you're getting it. If you want, I can tell you if she's giving signs that she wants to go all the way but after that, it's all on you." Marc explains, giving his alter an offer and some extra help in the situation. "If she doesn't show off anything then you guys can just have your tea and talk or whatever." Marc says. Steven looks towards Marc and nods before taking a deep breath and leaving the bathroom to head back to his flat with you.

So now with a kettle on the stove, you and Steven sit on his sofa. "Dinner was nice." you comment, attempting to break the silence in the flat. Steven nods, embarrassed at the idea that he let an awkward silence brew, "Yeah. I found the restaurant a while back, I needed to do something else around there and when I came across it I was like "Oh would you look at that", you know?" Steven rambles before realizing that he was rambling. He also realizes that he's been fidgeting with his hands and immediately stops and folds them when he sees you looking at them, giving a whispered 'sorry'.

"No no, it's fine. I fidget with my hands too." you say as you look back down at them. "They look nice," you mutter under your breath, "They are?" Steven questions. You realize what you've said and backtrack, "I mean, you know, they just look very well maintained. Guys hardly take care of their hands and they sometimes look kinda ugly." you explain.

"Do they really look that nice?" Steven asks as he holds his hands out for the both of you to get a better look at them. You shyly take one of them and feel the skin with your thumb "Yeah." you say, "They feel really soft actually." you remark as you give the one you're holding a little squeeze. Upon looking closer you ask "You file your nails?". Steven, who was caught up in the fact that you were holding and feeling his hands, and thus he was feeling yours, snaps out of it and answers "Yeah, I do. I bite at the edges of them sometimes and so I file them so that they look better.", "It also helps to keep them short so that dirt doesn't get under them." he adds. "Well, they look very well kept." you comment timidly.

Steven nods as a thank you before hearing a 'psst' nearby. He looks towards the source and finds Marc looking at him from the reflection of his TV. Steven gives him a 'what' look. "She likes your hands." Marc points out. "Yes, I know." Steven responds in his head with a slight I'm-not-dumb tone. "No, Steven. She really likes your hands." Marc objects, "Maybe she wants you to do something with them?" Marc prompts with a tone that reads 'if you know what I mean'. Steven thinks about it before he notices that you're still holding and slightly feeling up his hands.

Steven tries to think of something to say or do in this situation, realizing that this might be going faster than he thought it would, but the sound of the kettle starting to whistle steals his attention before he can. With a quiet "Excuse me." and pulling his hands away, Steven gets up, takes the kettle off the stove, and grabs two mugs.

"Pour the tea in front of her. Give her a bit of a show." Marc suggests. "Shut up." Steven mumbles but freezes when you ask "Hm?" indicating that you slightly heard him, Steven recovers by saying "Sugar in your cup?" like he's repeating himself. You smile and say "Yes, a spoon, please." you request. Steven nods and pours a spoonful of sugar into your cup but takes the empty cups to the coffee table and actually does pour the tea in front of you like suggested.

Your eyes flicker between his hands that are on the kettle with a rag and Steven's face. You blush just a little, that would have gone unnoticed if Steven wasn't slightly expecting it. He pours his cup and walks back into the kitchen to leave the kettle. "I told you she'd like it." Marc says from the reflection of the kettle. Steven flashes him a look that radiates the words "Shut the hell up." before dropping it once he makes his way back to the sofa with you.

"You know I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight. I was surprised when you asked me out to dinner." you say as you gently swish around the tea in your cup to help the sugar mix as it dissolves. Steven raises his eyebrows for a bit in surprise at hearing that, "How come?" he asks. "Well..." you stammer, "You're very smart and polite, and handsome. I thought that you would have had someone already. Most guys like you are hard to come by nowadays and most have partners already. So I figure that you also had somebody already." you explain. Steven blushes at being called such attractive things. "Well then you would be surprised that I was both scared to ask you out to dinner and shocked that you said yes." Steven says, "I would have thought that such a beautiful and smart woman like yourself would already have someone or at least have many men trying to ask you out all the time." Steven claims.

"Seems like you got lucky then." you giggle as you blush at the idea that Steven, the man that you've been crushing on for a long time, was saying that he expected to have competition when asking you out. In the meantime, Marc makes a suggestion, "Keep going, Steven, she seems to like it.". Steven nods and does his best to do that. "I mean it. I really do." Steven says, "You really are a rare one. I'm happy you agreed to go out with me.". You sigh and hide your burning red face, "Stop. I don't think I can handle getting any redder." you beg. Steven scoots towards you on the sofa and gently takes your hands away from your face so that he can see you. "I really like your face, in any color it may be in." Steven says as he looks into your eyes, now staring back at him.

A second passes by the two of you while you softly stare at each other, it feels longer, but in a pleasant way. Steven could feel that Marc was going to say something again, but he didn't want to hear it and just did what he figured he was going to suggest. He leans in more and kisses you on the lips, with you flinching just a little before kissing him back.

The kiss is gentle and sweet, but there is a little bit of something in it between the both of you. When Steven pulls away, he notices that your hand is placed on his shoulder with your thumb timidly placed on the base of his neck like you were originally going to keep him pulled in. Steven smiles a bit at the idea and looks towards you, but you are leaning in yourself and manage to press a kiss on his jaw. The soft kisses continue from there and Steven feels less nervous about things possibly going farther tonight and he can sense that you are too.

[scrollonso]

Before — 1 (out of 3? maybe)

Sick. That's how Bez felt. Whether it was from the ridiculous amount of alcohol he'd had since he crashed out - since Marc Marquez made him crash - or because of the anger bubbling under the surface he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that as soon as that microphone was in his hand all he wanted to do was bitch and moan about his shitty race.

The room was crowded, full of people celebrating as he shouted slurred words into the microphone by his lips.

"We're here..." He started, done talking to Digi's daughter. Now was his chance "I just wanted to say one thing today. Marquez made me crash." He stated plainly, pointing his finger at the camera in front of his face

"He wanted to say it" The man behind him slightly laughed as he spoke, it wasn't a joke. This was all Marc Marquez's fault.

"I wanted to say it." He echoed before moving on, unaware of just how much this comment was going to shape his night.

The broadcast eventually came to an end after ten minutes of Bez's rambling. He wasn't sure when he came to this conclusion but he decided he was going to confront Marquez.

He was stumbling, not because that dickhead hurt him, he's too strong to be hurt by such a pathetic rider. Maybe he was just a little too drunk to do anything straight.

He pounded on the door of the Spaniards motorhome, ready to tear into him as soon as his door swung open. What he wasn't ready for was for the shorter man to be in nothing but a white towel hanging loosely around his waist.

Bez's anger flared even more at the sight of Marc looking so unbothered, so relaxed, as if nothing had happened. The Spaniard raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Bezzecchi, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Marc's tone was mocking, his eyes glinting with amusement as his lips curled up into a Cheshire cat smile.

"You think this is funny?" Bez slurred, his fists clenching at his sides. "Vai a farti fottere. You made me crash!"

Marc leaned against the doorframe, his smirk widening. "Is that what you came here to tell me? You know, blaming others won't make you a better rider, Marco."

Bez took a step forward, his vision blurring slightly. "Shut up! You did it on purpose. You wanted me out of the race! Your race ended a few laps later as karma for you being a reckless dickhead."

Marc shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe you should focus more on your own skills rather than finding excuses."

The words cut deep, and Bez's anger turned into a fierce determination. He pushed Marc back into the motorhome, causing the Spaniard to stumble slightly. Marc's smirk faltered as he realized Bez wasn't just drunk — he was furious.

"You think you can just ruin my race with nk consequences?" Bez shouted, his voice loud, echoing off the walls of the small structure. "Mi stai sul cazzo."

Marc straightened up, his expression hardening. "You're drunk, Bez. Go sleep it off before you do something you'll regret."

But Bez was beyond reason. He swung a punch at Marc and missed, embarrassingly enough. The two men stood there, the tension between them palpable, neither of them felt like they could breathe in the small space.

"Do something I'll regret?" Bez barked. "The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner."

He lunged forward again, but this time Marc didn't move. Instead, he grabbed Bez's arms and held him in place, their faces inches apart, Marc controlling him as if he was some mutt the Spaniard had trained. Bez's breath was hot and heavy, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the air thick with anger and something else neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

"You have no idea what you're doing," Marc whispered, his voice low, warning the pup.

"Maybe I don't," Bez replied, his voice equally low, a stark change from the volume he had just seconds before. "But I know what I want."

Without thinking, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Marc's in a rough, angry kiss. Marc resisted for a second, but then he was kissing Bez back just as fiercely, their mutual hatred and frustration pouring into the kiss.

It was a battle for dominance, their hands gripping each other's arms tightly, neither willing to give an inch. It was messy, all teeth and tongues and pent-up aggression. It could hardly be called a kiss, not in any romantic sense. It was at once filthy and violating, no teasing or buildup. Not altogether unpleasant, Marc noted once he recovered from the shock of the turn this interaction had taken, but still unwelcome. And so, in response, he took the first opportunity he had to bite down hard on Bez's bottom lip, blood bursting across his tongue just before the Italian jerked away.

He didn’t appear angry, though, not even as he spat excess blood and saliva on the floor. He laughed instead, his eye darker than Marc had ever seen it and glittering with the manic hunger he got before a race. He brought his hand up to Marc's throat then to his jaw, swiping his thumb across his lips and smearing the blood Marc had drawn across them. “Just when I thought I’d found a better use for that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Marc slapped his hand away. “I’m glad we can agree at least one of us is pretty,” he grumbled, incapable of letting this end without getting one last jab in. He flicked out his tongue and still could taste copper at the corner of his mouth, and it was impossible to miss the way Bez followed the movement. “Although,” Marc continued in spite of his better judgment, watching as a trail of blood trickled from Bez's mouth down his chin, one valiant drop even climbing further down, outlining the column of his throat before disappearing into the collar of his shirt, “I think I’m starting to see the appeal.”

Later, Marc could rationalize this whole incident down to him being overworked and sorely needing a break, one that Bez had so conveniently stopped him fron having. But in truth, there was no rational explanation for why he proceeded to tangle his fingers in Bez's hair, or why Bez even allowed him to, before forcefully reeling him back in. Purely hindbrain base instinct, he mused, swiping his tongue across the impressions of his teeth cut into Bez’s lip, unadulterated desire, and the thrill of chasing something dangerous. A heady and addictive feeling he’d become more and more accustomed to as of late.

It was less making out than it was a battle on a smaller, intimate scale. All clashing tongues and teeth as each of them fought to set the pace to their preferences, resulting in something messy and frantic and not enough - not nearly enough - to satisfy.

Bez’s hand fumbled across Marc's chest, seeking out the towel still around his waist, and trying to focus on anything else besides the taste of metal and Marquez's spit in his mouth proved to be too much of a hassle, he brought his knee up to graze against Marc's groin, urging him to hasten things along. Almost immediately, he caught on and forced his leg back down, fingers digging deep into the meat of his thigh, just on the edge of being painful. “Impatient, aren’t we?” he laughed, pulling back to Bez's dismay. “Never thought I’d have to remind you to use your words. You were so eager to run your mouth and now you're ashamed?”

“Just get on with it!” Bez snapped, more on edge than he’d ever admit to.

Marc strolled casually to the side, putting on a show of untucking the towel from itsself and holding a corner away from his body, still covered. “Get on with what?” he asked nonchalantly.

“I’m sure you can use context clues.” Bez gestured between the two of them. At Marc's lack of reaction, he sighed, “Or maybe not. Maybe media literacy really is dead, you poor, pathetic idiot.”

Without warning, Marc was grabbed once again, Bez manhandling the Spaniard on top of him as he sat on the sofa placed in the corner of the room until he had them right where he wanted: Marc, astride his lap with his knees bracketing Bez's hips, making use of the slim space available between the armrests. Marc wanted to gloat - his needling had been successful after all - but he was all too aware of the precarious position he was now in, no longer being towered over but instead spread open as the towel atop of his olive skin risked slipping down. And the only thing keeping him steady was Bez's firm grip on his ass.

“The only thing pathetic around here is your pride getting in the way of asking for what you want. Is this,” Marc forced himself closer, grinding his hips against Bez's, “better?”

“Cazzo,” was all Bez could think to say as he lurched backwards with the motion and shut his eyes tight. “Fuck, fine, sì. Just don’t stop.”

Marc only laughed and rolled their hips against each other again. Bez bore down, chasing the friction he needed. Marc's mouth found his skin again, this time latching onto the bolt of his jaw before moving lower, biting and sucking along his throat and leaving harsh bruises that he would have no way of hiding over the next few days. He was sure he’d care about that later, but there were more pressing matters. Pressing insistently against the front of his jeans, in fact.

“If Valentino could see you now, his pet panting like a feral dog,” Marc remarked, bringing one hand around to pull at the collar of Bez's shirt to give him more access to unmarked skin.

“You want to know something - quit that, you’re going to stretch it out - something funny?” Marc made a curious noise as he nipped hard at Bez's collarbone. Bez inhaled sharply but took that as his cue to continue. “I don’t actually care all that much about his attention.”

Marc stilled, and Bez just barely refrained from whining. He pulled back, lips spit slick and quirked in an odd grin, as he let his hand wander, falling torturously slow down the length of Bez's torso. “Is that so?”

Bez moved his hands to grip on Marc's shoulders, refusing to squirm even as the Spaniards hand trailed past his abdomen, fingers teasing along the waistband of his jeans. He leaned in so his nose brushed against Marc's ear. “But I really enjoy how it gets under your skin.”

He felt the button of his jeans pop and Marc's knuckles graze the straining front of his boxers as he dragged the zipper down. “Looks like we’re even in that respect.”

“Not if you don’t…fucking…do something,” Bez panted into his neck as Marc cupped him through the fabric.

“Are you going to ask me, or should I use context clues again?” Marc teased, increasing the pressure slightly for the briefest of moments, just enough to leave Bez aching for more.

“Just touch me, Che cazzo!”

“Vague. And rude. But I’ll take it.” Wasting no more time, Marc freed his already leaking cock and grasped him firmly in his hand. The first few strokes were too rough and dry in his calloused hands by any measure, but the instant relief at just having anything sent waves of pleasure prickling up his spine. A low moan rattled free from somewhere deep in Bez's chest, and he bit down into the meat of Marc's shoulder to muffle it.

“None of that,” Marc said, bringing his other hand up to yank Bez back by his hair. “You’ve been very vocal; you don’t get to stop now.” Marc focused his attention on the tip, pressing his thumb into the slit and gathering the precum that had already started collecting to ease the glide back down.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Bez spluttered as Marc settled into a steady rhythm.

Marc laughed and flicked his wrist just so, sending Bez crying out. “La poesía.”

Bez thrusted shallowly into his fist, trying and failing to match the pace with what little leverage he had in this position. Marc released his grip on his hair and went back to rocking his hips until finally their uneven back and forth fell into sync.

“Asshole- you- ah..- merda- Motherfuck- God!” Speaking, at least coherently, became increasingly difficult as Marc worked him over almost mechanically, as if every weak point of his was somehow preprogrammed into his movements, and Bez hated it as much as he never wanted it to end.

“Go on,” Marc urged him. “Let’s see if we can make them hear you through that door. You wanted attention, right?” Another twist of his hand, and something strangled and pitiful clawed its way out of Bez's throat. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy now? I’d love for them to hear you scream.”

“Someone’s - hah - a little overconfident in their abilities, don’t you think?” Bez managed in between gasps.

“Oh, I’m sure I could figure it out,” Marc said, voice low and liquid smooth in a way that settled deep in the pooling warmth that had begun gathering in Bez's core. He suppressed a shiver. “With a little time, I bet I could have you on your knees and begging.” At that, Bez snatched Marc's wrist, stopping him mid-pump even as his dick throbbed in response. “Didn’t like that idea, huh?”

“On my knees, I can do,” Bez huffed, gathering himself. “But I have no intention of begging.”

“No one does,” Marc shot back cheekily. “But I’ll bite. What do you have in mind to keep yourself quiet?” Marc loosened his hold, allowing Bez to slip out from under hum, his legs tingling from bloodflow rushing back into them as Marc turned to sit facing the Italian. Ignoring the minor pain, he continued sinking further down, situating himself between Marc's thighs as he knelt on the floor. “I like where this is going,” He chuckled, moving things along by taking out his own cock - with far less teasing and ceremony he had subjected him to before, Bez noted with embarrassment - already hard and leaking.

Pausing only to meet Marc's eyes - watching hungrily from above, cast in shadow by the glow of the dim lights haloing his damp hair - before taking him in his mouth, drawing a groan from Marc's. He moved slowly at first, with short bobs of his head as he progressively took in inch after inch, using his hand to cover what he hadn’t yet with his mouth, adjusting to the weight on his tongue and swallowing down the salty, bitter taste of precome. Marc's hand found its way into his hair, mockingly tender. “You know,” he said, “from this angle, you’re actually not too bad.”

In place of the cutting response Bez would have given in any other circumstance, he dove his head down the furthest he’d done yet, then flattened his tongue against the underside of Marc's erection, bringing it to a point as he dragged it up to the head. “Mierda!” Marc cried out, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. The fingers threaded through Bez's curls tightened sharply as he continued teasing at the tip, and that was the only warning he got before his head was forced forward again, then pulled back.

Apart from a muffled noise of surprise, Bez didn’t fight against it, focusing instead on relaxing his throat so he wouldn’t give Marc the satisfaction of gagging and paving the way for more snide, derogatory remarks he was in no position to argue. Besides, he still had his hand, and much like Marc had before, he moved and twisted it just so at the base of his cock, picking up a momentum that could eventually tear Marc to pieces. Judging from his flushed face, his panting breaths, and his condescension growing more and more disjointed, Bez felt he was somewhere on the right track.

“Yes, like that. Fucking- Dios! It’s like you were made for this. If I had known this was all it took to shut you up…” Marc trailed off, laughing. His eye distractedly followed the drool running down Bez's chin before snapping back up to meet his gaze with a wicked grin. “Why don’t you go on and touch yourself, Marco? I think I’d like to see you fall apart wrapped around my cock.”

Tempting as that was, his arousal flushed and heavy between his legs, Bez instead reached back to tug at Marc's hand on his head. He sighed, disappointed, but released him anyway. Still, Bez took his time retreating, tracing a vein with his tongue and swirling it around the head before sliding off with a wet pop that had Marc gripping the armrests of the sofa dangerously. “If that’s what you’re after,” Bez told him, wiping at his chin with his sleeve, “you’re going to have to work a little harder for it.”

Marc leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, so that their faces were nearly level, hot breaths mingling in the scarce air between them. “You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I don’t believe I did. But glad to know you’ve finally figured out how to read between the lines.”

Marc's hand shot out to twist in Bez's shirt as he stood, dragging him to his feet along with him. “You are fucking terrible at saying anything actually important.”

“To you, maybe. We just happen to have different priorities.” Bez could only watch confhsed as Marc swiped his free arm across a desk in the corner of the room, sending everything in the workspace - the mouse, keyboard, documents and checklists, various caffeinated beverages - clattering to the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”

In response, Marc practically threw him against the desk. “Priorities,” he scoffed.

“Let me guess, you sit at the top of that list while us younger riders hover somewhere in the low hundreds.”

Marc rolled his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Marco.”

With sheer brute strength, Bez spun Marc around and forced him face down on the desk, braced by his elbows. He leaned over, covering Marc with his own body and bringing his mouth just behind Marc's ear. He could feel every armored edge of the Italians jeans rough against his bare skin, and more than that, Bez's erection jutting against the line of his ass through them.

“Impressive,” Marc praised sarcastically. “I’d say you have me pegged, but you forgot one thing.”

“Ugh,” Bez groaned at the tasteless choice in wording, “and what’s that?”

“Right now, I’d say one of my highest priorities is finding out exactly what kind of idiotic nonsense runs out of your mouth when you’re strung out and fucked senseless,” Marc replied, nipping briefly at the shell of Bez's ear before pulling away. “Any objections?” Without waiting for a reply, he yanked Bez's jeans down to his knees, exposing him fully to the open air.

“Do you think I’d even be in this position if I had any?”

Marc sighed. “Is a simple, one word answer too much to ask from you?”

“Maybe.”

Marc didn’t get a chance to retort before Bez finger pressed against his entrance, sinking in to the first knuckle. Marc bit his lip against a reedy noise in the back of his throat that came dangerously close to a whine as he acclimated to the intrusion before Bez pulled out again, catching on the rim, then pushed back in further. By the time Marc had adjusted his breathing to the rhythm of Bez'a finger pumping in and out, he introduced another. He couldn’t repress a shout at the initial sting of two fingers working him over, but the pain faded over time into a toe-curling stretch.

“Taking you- ngh- your time, I see,” Marc goaded, even as he rocked back to meet the thrust of Bez's hand. “Do you not wanna make me scream, Marco?”

“Don’t worry, that’s definitely still on the table.” To prove his point, Bez angled his fingers just so on the next push, nailing Marc's prostate and causing every nerve in his body to light up like fireworks. He didn’t scream, thank you very much, but it was a near thing, the sound scraping his throat raw and fighting to break past his gritted teeth. “But you’ll have to forgive me for assuming that you wished to retain your ability to walk tomorrow.”

“How considerate of you- oh.” A third finger joined the others, creating a delicious kind of burn as they dragged against his walls over and over until at last Bez was satisfied.

“That should do it,” he appraised, drawing his hand back. Marc swallowed a whimper at the sudden emptiness he was left with and took the opportunity to remove his glasses and sweep his now sweat-drenched chair out of his eyes in the brief calm before the storm.

For once, Bez didn’t leave him in anticipation, and a moment later Marc felt the blunt head of his cock lining up at his entrance before pushing in with a blissed out groan, filling Marc up inch by heavy inch with each movement of his hips, until there was scarcely enough room in him for the air in his lungs. The pleasure resided intimately by the pain, each providing kindling for the other until his own body became an echo chamber of conflicting desires: to lean into the sensation or to escape it, to tense against the feeling or relax around it. His head spun so much that he didn’t realize at first when Bez bottomed out, only noticing after a while that he had gone still apart from the labored rise and fall of his chest.

Tears pricked at the corners of Marc's eyes at the sheer fullness of it, the inescapable heat pressing against him. He felt spread too thin, a rubber band pulled to its limit before snapping, and still, after several seconds passed in this high-strung state, Bez did not offer him release. “Fucking…move already!” he choked out.

“Just enjoying the view,” Bez remarked, as coolly as if he were watching a sunset rather than buried to the hilt inside another person, if a little breathless. He did move, then, with extreme prejudice, gripping Marc's hips with bruising force as he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, punching a rattling moan from Marc's chest.

He repeated this several more times, shifting slightly every few thrusts, some going deeper than others but no less forcefully, until Marc's arms shook and threatened to give out from the strain of holding himself up against the onslaught. Finally, Bez entered at an angle that grazed Marc's prostate again, sending him keening uncontrollably. Another adjustment, and he proceeded to hit that bundle of nerves near every time.

There weren’t words to describe the sensation. Marc was a walking encyclopedia, always having something smart-assy to say, yet all he could come up with were endless refrains of “more,” “harder,” “faster,” along with several obscenities that would embarrass a sailor. Distantly, he was aware of Bez behind him, growling something along the lines of, “Yes, fuck, so tight. Keep talking, tell me how much you need this.”

“Marco…” he began, but he wasn’t sure how to continue, even if his pride would let him. He was so close, teetering just at the edge but not pushed over just yet, and his scattered mind was useless in helping him figure out how to get there. He met Bez's thrusts, the lewd slap of skin against skin echoing in the room as he chased futilely after one final spark.

Then Bez moved one hand to reach around Marc's front and fist over his dick again, timing his movements there perfectly to that of his hips, and that was all it took. For several blissful seconds, Marc was suspended in ecstasy before his orgasm slammed into him with the force of an explosion, molten heat flooding out from his core to white out every other sensation, every other thought as he spilled over Bez's fingers and onto the floor.

Bez kept up the pace through Marc's release and beyond it, chasing furiously after his own. That feeling of not enough that had prevailed earlier suddenly switched to too much, wrung out and overstimulated as he was. Marc rested his head against the cool surface of the desk, burying broken moans against his fist, riding out the shuddering aftershocks dancing up his spine and letting the sparks skittering across his tired nerves wash over him.

With a grunt and a final stutter of his hips, Nez finished deep inside, bending over to cover Marc again as he moved them together to work him to the last drop. They stayed like that for a stretched out moment, breathing in the heady air thick with sweat and sex and satisfaction, before Marc pulled out, hiking his jeans and boxers back up immediately after. Grimacing, Marc forced himself to stand in spite of his shaky legs. By the time he turned back around, though, Bez had already tucked himself back in and started walking to the door.

He looked over his shoulder, voice still husky and breath short. “You might want to clean that up.”

“Asshole,” Marc hissed when he was gone, adjusting himself back to something semi-presentable. Pushing himself off the desk to force his body into motion, he made it one step, then two, then collapsed bonelessly onto his sofa, wincing as he landed. That was only going to become more unpleasant later, especially with the mess slowly creeping down his leg and drying there. He would clean everything up in a minute - just a minute - after settling in the afterglow and allowing himself to recover before his girlfriend made her way back. Before he had to sleep in the same bed as her knowing just how stretched out he was by his coworker just now. Before he pretended this never happened.

(next part)

[sports-on-sundays]

can you plssss make a part 3 for arguments w Marc guiu plsssss😭

arguments / Marc Guiu / Part 3

Summary: Marc x female!reader - The writing is on the wall, and you don't know if there's a way to change this. Or if you even want to.

Author's Note: I'm a sucker for happy endings✌️✌️✌️Link to Part 1 Link to Part 2

Requested?: Yes

For a guy that you hate, that hurt you, that you never, ever want to see again, you think about him an awful lot.

Gavi thinks you messed up. That you're in the wrong, too. That it was a two-way street.

Well, what does Gavi know?

You're not sure, but in the past, it figures, most of the time, he's right.

And ever since you saw Marc...

He looked broken up. Not the handsome, upbeat, encouraging Marc who you just had one too many nasty arguments with. He wasn't even Marc at all. He was empty. Anxiety and confusion radiated off of him.

And the more you think about that, the more it makes you feel guilty.

Maybe Gavi is right. Maybe you weren't being a good girlfriend. Maybe Marc only lashed out, which was wrong, at you because you weren't treating him correctly.

Perhaps he was a bit too jealous, but maybe you weren't giving him enough attention.

You sigh. You would've just let it go, but after seeing Marc? Now you've begun to feel guilty yourself.

Maybe you should just try to have a conversation with him, like Gavi said.

"Man, this isn't doing any good, is it?" Héctor sighs. He's hanging out with Marc, going for a stroll, but Marc hasn't opened his mouth once, and his eyes remain trained on the sidewalk they're walking on.

Finally, the eighteen-year-old looks up at his friend. "What isn't?" he speaks.

"You're devastated over her. You can't keep going on like this. You've got to find a way out. I miss you."

"I'm right here..." Marc begins.

"I miss the old Marc. Come on."

Marc's jaw clenches. "I just got to get over it. I'm working on it, okay?"

"You're working on it, but it hasn't been working, has it?"

Marc exhales slowly, with no answer to his friend but, "I'm trying. Trust me, I don't like me like this either."

"Maybe there is a solution, though, and you're just not seeing it."

"That's nice," Marc snorts. "Doesn't help if I'm not seeing it."

But Héctor flashes a grin at his friend. "But what if I'm seeing it?"

Marc rolls his eyes, and just the smallest hint of a smile creeps up on his lips. "Well, what are you seeing?"

But then the younger male grows more serious again as he says, "You should just talk to her."

"I- no-!" Marc says, eyes wide and eyebrows exasperated.

"Man- just hear me out, okay?! I know you're terrified of doing that for some reason. For some reason, you're terrified of her. What, because of your regret? You're scared of what she'll say? If you want to fix it, you've got to overcome it. Just talk to her. Get it straight. Make sure you both understood why it ended. Building up to it, I'm sure your head will be spinning, but afterwards, I know you'll feel more relief. Y/n isn't a bad person. She'll hear you out, as long as it's a conversation, and not an argument. I'm sure of it."

Marc stares ahead. Just his friend's words cause him low-grade anxiety, but he slowly nods. "I'll... I'll think about it."

When he thought about it, Marc decided on an adamant 'no.' But today, when he looks up to see you walking towards him, down the hall, after he's washed up after training, chattering with Pedri and Gavi, his emotions flare up, and he acts on a whim.

He reaches out from the doorway to grasp your arm. You look up in surprise, stopping mid-sentence, as you rest your eyes on your ex.

"Y/n," he gasps.

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Can we- can we talk?"

Immediately, Gavi says, "Me and Pedri have got to get going. Catch you later!" and the two skitter away.

Great. Now you're all alone.

"Sure..." you sigh.

And then Marc starts rambling. "I'm so sorry for being so controlling. I can't stand this heartache any longer and I need you to know how much I miss you and I feel bad and I know I ruined it all and... I just want you for myself but that wasn't fair... I shouldn't have yelled at you... I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. I should have let you do your own thing and-" Suddenly, his voice cracks, and you see his eyes begin to water. "I can't think... I feel so bad, I've been nothing like myself... I was so anxious to even talk to you... I don't want to upset you... I just want you to know I'm sorry, and that I see what I did wrong and I- I want to fix it."

You let out a shaky sigh as your caring emotions for him that you pushed out begin to flood back in. You hastily wipe a stray tear rolling down his cheek. "Oh, Marc," you whisper. "Get yourself together."

"I'm sorry..." his voice cracks higher.

You sigh again. "It's okay... But you expect me to let you fix it now, then?"

His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps.

"Well, first, I want to apologize, too," you begin.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wr-"

"I think I did," you cut in with a huff. "Though I don't like how harsh you could be, and how jealous you could act, in some respects, you were right. If I'm going to date someone, I can't be hanging out with my male friends more than the guy I'm actually dating. And out of all the guys I know, you're the only one I'd want to date."

He inhales sharply at that. "So, you...?"

"I'll work on change, as long as you do, too."

He swallows. "Of course. I've had hours of lying in bed going insane over this."

You nod and take both his hands in his. "Maybe we can try this again, then? Yeah? I can't stand to see you like this any longer."

It's like a huge weight is lifted off his shoulders as he gasps and immediately wraps you in the biggest bear hug you've ever experienced. "Yeah," he whispers softly, close to your ear. "I'd love that."

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Battle Of The Knights Pt. 4: And The Winner Is...

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: nothin- you're safe

Genre: fluff- still just fluff lol

Summary: "So let me get this straight, you all like me, so you each want to take me on a date and let me decide what to do after?" You can't believe the words you're hearing even as you repeat them back.

What happens when the relationships you've built with Marc and his two alters are turned on their heads by a proposition that is anything but simple? How can they expect you to risk blowing up the carefully crafted dynamic you've worked so hard to create? And why do you agree to such an insane suggestion?

A/N: is anyone actually interested in reading the alt endings for this story 🤣 cuz ik nobody actually wants to pick

***

You took a week to mull it over. To really consider your options and what the best approach to this conversation with them would be. Eventually, when you've given yourself headaches from trying to predict the future, you cave in and text the trio knowing you can't continue to delay the inevitable.

Hey guys. I've made a decision. Meet me at our usual cafe for lunch tomorrow. How's 3?

You're not sure who responds to you. It's short and whoever it is doesn't sign off like they usually do.

sounds great. see you then

Maybe Marc or Jake. When the trio is anxious Jake usually has to deal with things but it's possible Marc is taking the wheel since he's known you the longest. You're almost certain the text isn't from Steven, he always uses full sentences with proper punctuation and capitalization when he texts. He's also pretty fond of exclamation marks and emoticons. A text from Steven would probably look more like 'Sounds great! See you then! :)'

Jake seems the most likely sender of the text, but it really doesn't matter either way. They'll be there and you need to address all three of them anyway. When you walk into the cafe, they're already there and they stand up when you walk over to them.

"Y/n! Hey!" It's Marc who greets you and gives you a hug.

"Hi, Marc. Thanks for coming." You say taking a seat across from him.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. We're happy to see you. Steven was starting to get super worried." Marc says.

"Oh was he?" You chuckle.

"Yeah, you know how he gets." Marc shrugs.

"How I get?! I wasn't the one checking our phone every ten minutes. He was way more anxious about this than I-"

"Steven. I know." You cut off his rambling with a chuckle even though the sudden switch caught you by surprise.

"You know?" Steven blinks at you.

"Of course I do. Marc isn't as subtle as he thinks he is." You muse.

"Oh- okay." He says.

"Would you like to stick around for this or do you want Marc or Jake to come out before I get into the details?" You ask.

"I- I take it I'm not going to like how this conversation goes? If you're offering me an out?" He frowns.

"I'm not sure actually."

"You're not sure? I thought you called us here because you made a decision?" He tilts his head.

"I did. Kind of. Actually, I have some questions to ask first. I'm only offering you an out because I know you don't like dealing with unfamiliar territory and I don't think this will be a very comfortable conversation." You say.

"Questions for who?" Steven asks.

"Well, technically all of you."

"I'll stick around then." He says hesitantly.

"Okay then. Well, I guess my main question is, out of curiosity- what was the plan? Like- long term, for the three of you?" You ask.

"What do you mean?" He shakes his head.

"If I choose one of you, even if best case scenario it doesn't alter my friendships with the other two- what about their romantic lives? Did you all plan to just have three completely separate dating lives for the rest of forever?" You ask. There's a moment of silence as Steven registers your question. You can tell from the look on his face he's never even thought about it before.

"Do you have a mirror?" Steven asks. You reach into your bag and pull out the compact you usually carry.

"Here." You hand it to him and he opens it and puts it on the table in front of him. You know it's so Marc and Jake can easier communicate with him.

"We- never really thought about it. I guess so." Steven says.

"See that's the thing. I was thinking about it and logistically how would that even work? I mean you guys are of course individuals but you do share a body. It's a strange situation to put someone in, sharing their boyfriend with one or two other people even if it's just physically because it's not like you can tell every first date you go on that you have a personality disorder and one of your alters already has a girlfriend but if you hide that information for too long it would totally screw up your chances with that person." You explain.

"So- instead of focusing on the decision you were supposed to make you've been worrying about what your choice could mean for the others?"

"Well, yeah. I care about all of you was that not obvious?"

"It's always been obvious but-"

"What are you suggesting muñequita?" Jake interrupts whatever Steven was going to say with his question.

"Jake." You say as a way of acknowledging the switch. 

"Before you ask, Steven didn't run off, I took over because he's gonna beat around the bush and I want to get to the point already."

"Well it wasn't nice of you to cut him off like that Jake." You frown.

"He'll be fine. Y/n, what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that you learn how to share. All three of you."

"Share?" Jake raises an eyebrow at you.

"The best chance for all of you to have a happy, healthy, fulfilling, long-term relationship is to date one person. That or you- take turns for the rest of your life for who will be able to pursue romance. This separate but equal life y'all have been trying to maintain will not work here. You date one person, who knows all of you and loves all of you or only one of you gets that happy ending because you can't expect three women to date three minds in one body. In that scenario, nobody is getting it all and you are spread entirely too thin." You sigh.

"So, what does that mean? For you." Jake crosses his arms.

"For me? Nothing. It doesn't have to be me that you choose. I just think it would be better for you all to find one person that you're willing to go through that kind of experience with. I mean clearly, despite having very different personalities there are interests that you share in a partner evidently. So I think you should look for- for somebody that could love all of you because you are a system- you work best together even if you don't think so. I've seen it."

"So you will not make a choice? Is that what I'm understanding here?" He asks and you shake your head.

"I won't choose one of you. I can't do that because it creates a very complex situation for everyone involved. Have you even thought about dating the same person before?"

"This is as intertwined as our dating lives have ever gotten. I mean- you know I don't date for a myriad of reasons and Steven can hardly start a conversation with a woman and Marc- he's equally as hopeless in a very different way. We haven't talked about dating really because we don't think about it. Too much else is going on." He shrugs.

"Are you against it?" You ask.

"Sharing a partner? We- we have never thought about that until just now when you brought it up." Jake says. You watch his eyes flick down to the mirror and he makes a face at something Marc or Steven said.

"What if we wanted to do it- with you?" It's Marc that asks you this question. You're surprised they switched out, since Marc was really only around to say hello you almost thought he'd stay inside for the whole conversation.

"What?" You blink.

"What if we wanted to date you? All of us. I mean- you've already been on dates with each of us, you've always cared for all of us- do you think, do you think you could be that person we choose to try that experience with? You said you won't choose one of us over the others so- what if we didn't want you to choose?"

"Just to be clear I didn't bring this idea to you as a loophole for me. You don't have to date me. I want you all to be happy and this just seemed like the most reasonable way to ensure that." You say.

"I know. We know. But we also don't want to look for someone else. We- our hearts, heart? Our feelings are for you. We have no interest in suppressing them or trying to replicate them with someone else. We think- we, us and you, work well together. Plus I honestly don't think Jake would consider dating anyone else anyway." Marc says and you can't help but chuckle at the last bit.

"And you're sure? This is what you want? All of you?"

"Do you want to hear each of us say yes?" Marc asks. You pause for a second trying to decide if his suggestion is serious.

"That would help honestly." You nod.

"Okay. I dunno if you wanna hear me say it since I'm the one suggesting it to you but I want this." Marc says.

"Yeah, I gathered." You giggle.

"I hate to admit it but he's right I have no interest in dating anyone else. It's you or no one. At least for me." Jake says albeit a bit grumbly.

"Just so we're clear, you understand I'd be not only your girlfriend but Steven and Marc's too, right?" You ask.

"It was me you brought up the sharing a partner thing to in the first place muñequita, I get it. I think you're right, but I'm only in if it's you. We are best with you." Jake says.

"I don't think you need me to be your best, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Do not start with me." Jake warns but before he can say anything else, Steven nudges his way to front.

"I'm in as well. I'm not- assertive the way Jake is or smooth like Marc, but- if you'll have me-"

"Steven I have never thought of you as less than Jake or Marc. I care for you the same as I do them and you don't need to be like them. I want you to be you. I don't need two Jakes and I certainly don't need two Marcs. I do need one Steven though. Okay?" You look at him and hope your eyes show the sincerity of your words.

"I can definitely work with that."

"I hope so- I've already hand-picked you for it." You smile which Steven returns.

"So, will you be our girlfriend? Mine and Jake's and Marc's? Now that it's clear we're all on the same page about being with you."

"I would love to be your girlfriend." You giggle.

"We should take you on a date. As a unit this time as opposed to what we did before." Steven says.

"Sounds good." You nod. "This time I'm planning it." You add after a moment.

"Now wait a damn minute-" Marc scoffs.

"Nope! You each got to plan a date for me. It's my turn now that is only fair." You say.

"We asked you though." He says.

"We're dating now who cares? We'll take turns planning dates." You shrug and stand from the table. You walk over and kiss his cheek. "I have to get back to mine. I have work to finish. Since you're no longer in competition, you can discuss your dates with each other. I'll text you when I've figured out our plans for the next one." You tell them.

"We can see you before then, right?" Marc asks.

"Of course, you can. Come over later if you like." You say grabbing your bag and your mirror.

"We'll call!" Steven shouts after you as you leave. You blow him a kiss over your shoulder and then you're gone. As nervous as you were about it, this is the only outcome you were hoping for when you texted them last night. You can't imagine another way this ended that would have you as happy as you are right now.

***

Taglist: @queerponcho @avengersinitiative2012 @stressed-cherry @animechick555

[ser-rctslcyer]

Hello there sweets!! 🍭 🍬 🍫

Could I pretty please request “you telling them a story but they aren’t paying attention at all because they’re too busy thinking about how beautiful you are” with sweetheart Steven

And…

“you and them being new to dating and decide to take it one step farther in the bedroom. due to some inexperience, there is a lot of shyness, giggling, and blushing when it comes to sex” with precious Marc?

Thank you Day!!! Xoxo

Title: Like Puzzle Pieces

Pairing:  Steven Grant x Gender-neutral! Reader 

Word Count: 439

Request: 77. you telling them a story but they aren’t paying attention at all because they’re too busy thinking about how beautiful you are

Warnings: Romantic Fluff, Dorks in Love

A/N: This was so stevencoded, I am so happy you picked it! [gif creds to owner]

You both were shoulder to shoulder, sitting outside by the little café table with your drinks rest on it. You had been rambling for a minute, discussing a fantasy movie series you enjoyed, and why those movies have you captivated for years. Or that is at least what Steven gather, as he had accidentally checked out a bit ago. 

He had started zoning out, too focused on admiring you as you spoke. From the way you talked with your hands, to the smiles, and chuckles had bewitched him to no end. You were stunning and he couldn’t take his eyes off of all the little things he had fallen in love with. He only came back to the conversation when he caught the word ‘stabbing’. 

“What?” he asked, staring wide-eyed and guilty as you raised your teacup to his face. 

“I knew you weren’t paying attention.”

“Oh bollocks, I’m sorry, love,” he apologized, placing his hand gently over your own, resting on the table. 

“I’m just messing with you, it’s fine,” a soft hum leaving you as you set your cup back down. 

“It better be, you do the same thing to me too!” he playfully shot back, and you erupted into a fit of giggles. After a few seconds, his laughter rang in tune with your own as both of you leaned into each other for support. The enjoyment didn’t since until a few questionable stares and the two of you settled back down, and you rest your head fully on his shoulder. He took a sip of his tea, a smile plastered over his face as he looked down at you affectionately.  

“Though, I wonder,” you began, tilting your head a bit to peer up at him, “what were you thinking about?” His face warms at the question alone, and for a second he dart his eyes away from your own. 

“Just about how pretty you are when you’re talking about something you like,” he admitted as he rubbed his thumb gently over your knuckles. He turned back towards you, his heart fluttering at the smile on your face. “The way your eyes light up and how excited you get is so, charming.”

“Aw, Steven… thank you, baby,” you praised and he ducked his head down shyly, before leaning in to kiss you softly. 

“Will you listen if I explain it again?”

“I can’t make any promises to not get lost in your eyes again,” he grinned, nuzzling his nose against yours and giving your hand a firm squeeze.

“Okay, you sap!” you giggled, pecking the corners of his lips, “please try to though.”

“I will, love.”

[smicksstuff]

Welcome to The Grid !

Hi im diana, she/her. im just your friendly neighbourhood f1 and football fanatic! im super cool about my passion for my sports boys and their team. come chat with me anytime !! ⚽️🏎️

Favourite Teams: Manchester United, Scuderia Ferrari

request : If you have any request or suggestions, send them to me. I will answer them as soon as I have time !! ◡̈ I'm not a writer so I'm sorry in advance if I cant do your request.

VAR (rules): i do not write nsfw content. However, i may interact with blogs who post such content. I believe that each of us are responsible for what we read and our actions online.

🤍 this is a safe space to be in love with men who drive fast cars in odd-shaped circles and men who chase after a ball for 90+ mins.

© all written or photo edited content is mine unless stated otherwise. please do not copy and/or publish to different accounts and platforms without permission!

click “keep reading” to access the full masterlist!

The Starting XI

Player Profiles (Instagram edits)

f1 drivers

series

The Pitbox Crew Series [ongoing]

(yngasly x f1drivers)

Part 1 - The Pitbox Crew

Part 2 - The Enstone Life

Part 3 - Mischief Managed

Part 4 - Land of Pizza and Pasta

Part 5 - Upside Down, Inside Out

Part 6 - Better Together

Part 7 - Power, Beauty and Soul

Part 8 - Ferrari Charm

Part 9 - Maple Syrup & Surprises

one shots

f1 drivers

mick schumacher - she shoots and she scores !

george russell - you had me at football

charles leclerc - off season antics

mick schumacher - gorgeous

footballers

mason mount - tis the season

alejandro garnacho - comeback kid

alejandro garnacho - forever and always

marc guiu - class of ‘24

hector fort - secrets

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・

Media Day! (Photoshop Edits)

charles leclerc & nyck devries

williams ‘22 boys

alphatauri ‘22 boys

mick schumacher

charles leclerc

bianca bustamante

dogs of war

dow: the baker

dow: the white knight

alex albon

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oscar piastri

max verstappen

mason mount

fernando alonso

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The Hall of Fame (art)

F1 x Cars (Series)

Team Ferrari

Team Williams

Lily + Alex

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・

The Team (statistics/ fun facts)

f1 drivers

George Russell

footballers

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・

Yellow Card (ramblings)

f1 silly season

danny, mick, seb, nicky

cha cha

bahrain gp 23

ferrari, mclaren and mercedes fans

esteban x randy

aus gp 23

Cars: Live Action

King George

monaco race suit

football silly season

MUN vs LIV

odds and ends

pinterest name aesthetic

f1 core challenge

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・

[1970sgothfreak]

THE GOTH AND THE SYSTEM EP 1

I had just moved into a new apartment after getting a place at my dream job after working hard to save up and move out after a bad argument…it was thundering and raining outside. I was in the middle of unpacking when i heard a noise next door, probably my now neighbour, i decided to go over and introduce myself and also see if he or she is okay because it sounded like severe arguing.

I walked out and knocked on the door opposite and waiter for a few seconds as I could hear someone scrambling about as if they were getting dressed or trying to tidy up the place, a voice could be heard and it sounded as if they were telling someone to shut up before the door opened. A man with messy hair and almost puppy like eyes opened the door and he straightened himself out before smiling up at me, I could see his shirt was all crumpled and he looked disheveled so that must have been the noise.

“Oh, hello, sorry about all that noise if that’s why you’re here I mean it probably is because that’s what everyone is normally here for considering I’m constantly making some sort of noise, I’m rambling aren’t I sorry. I’m Steven and you are?” He asked after his cute little ramble before looking up at you properly after his ramble and froze taking a good look at his new neighbour…

I was dressed in a long black skirt that was decorated with lace spiders, a corset that perfectly matched the skirt along with tights that hugged my body as if they were perfectly made for each other. My hair was Matted (or braided depending on your hair type :>) and it suited my face perfectly, The corpse paint both freaked him out yet fascinated him with how perfect it was.

“Uh hello?” I said with a wave of my hand snapping him out of his trance, it was cute how easily distracted he got.

“Like I said I’m Y/n, I just moved in it’s nice to meet you Steven” i smile and shook his hand, he couldn’t speak, you looked like an angel in his eyes…a creepy angel but an angel non the less. He shook your hand and you both enjoyed a nice little chat before you decided to cut that convo short and head back to your place and unpack.

Steven’s POV:

I waved goodbye as she left, the was closed before I locked it and happily walked back to the sofa before I heard a voice.

“I know that look Steven, she’s just our neighbour and nothing more” Marc.

I looked to the fish tank where Gus two was swimming and saw his reflection in it with his usual stoic face and sighed.

“I know Marc but did you see her…she was perfect looking as if death came and blessed her with the beauty of it and don’t act like you weren’t checking her out to, you may not have been in control but I know you”

“I was at least more subtle about it, you were practically drooling over her not to mention I had to stop Jake from taking over to body, you need to be careful….” He spoke, I sighed knowing he secretly cared about me and didn’t want to end up getting hurt like how he was after things ended with Layla.

**MEANWHILE.**

I was fully unpacked and laid down on my sofa, my eyes looking up towards the ceiling as I remembered Steven, he was quite cute especially with his rambling but the arguing…who was he arguing with?, he was alone when he opened the door…maybe I was just overthinking I mean I talk to myself all the time hell I’m doing it now.

I got up and had a shower, I didn’t both washing my hair as I couldn’t be arsed to, soon I ended up in my bed dressed in comfy warm bat pyjamas before sighing.

I closed my eyes and decided to get some sleep, I’m excited about this new place I feel like I’m going to enjoy living here.

Writer note: (So sorry this took so long, family issues, starting a new job and planning my proposal anyway here’s part 1, would love some ideas for the series <3)