Moon Knight Fic - Tumblr Posts

You Look Like a Museum to Me

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Prompts - “You’re extra beautiful when you talk about this. You know you’re good at it, and that knowledge lights you up.”

Notes -  I know absolutely nothing about ancient Egypt so if anything is wrong, just go with it.

Steven fiddled with the ends of his sleeves nervously as he glanced in the mirror, seeing nothing but Marc’s slightly amused eyes looking back at him as he watched him panic over his first date with you. Despite being reassured a dozen times that he had this, that you liked him just as much as he liked you, despite all of Marc’s comforting words he still couldn’t get rid of the pit of nerves in his stomach.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Marc told him again, not even annoyed at the amount of assurance Steven needed today. It was nice watching Steven with you, watching how flustered he got and feeling how happy he was. “You’re taking her to the museum, right, giving her a tour?”

“Yeah,” Steven sighed, nodding as he wiped his slightly sweaty palms against his pants, “Yeah, she wanted a tour of the museum.”

“Then you’re gonna be just fine, you know everything about that stuff, you’ll blow her away.” Marc smiled as Steven laughed nervously before checking his appearance one last time and grabbing his bag, one more deep breath and he turned away from the mirror.

After a quick goodbye to the fish Steven was heading out the door, just about managing to catch the bus and making his way to the museum. Marc was right, if there was one thing he knew it was this, how many times had he dreamed about giving this tour and now he got to give it to you.  

Asking you on a date had been nerve wracking, even after everything that had happened lately somehow asking a pretty woman out on a date felt scarier than any of it. Marc had laughed, not in a mean way, more in a fondly exasperated way and encouraged Steven to ask you out, went back and forth with him all night with different ways to ask you and different dates that were ideal for the first one. 

“I know this stuff, I’ve got this.” Steven muttered to himself as he got off the bus, not even noticing the side glances he received from strangers. Marc did and it showed when Steven glanced in a window to see Marc standing with a fond smile.

“I’m right with you buddy.” Marc said as Steven walked up the steps of the museum and found that the words eased his nerves a bit and he took one final deep breath to steady himself before he walked through the doors. 

He spotted you straight away, of course he did, even with the children darting back and forth, the tourists looking every which way, the school group that stood huddled together, somehow Steven missed all of them but managed to see you. You were focused on one of the figures, reading the small plaque in front of it as Steven stood still in his spot, more than content to watch you for a moment. 

“She really is stunning.” Steven mumbled, whether to himself or to Marc, even he didn’t know. His eyes were still locked on you as Marc rolled his eyes fondly from his place in the reflection of a glass barrier before he took control for half a second in order to get Steven moving. 

Steven stumbled slightly but managed to catch himself, shooting Marc a glare but Marc just smiled and gestured for him to make his way over to you. 

He took a steadying breath, feeling both more nervous and at ease at seeing you before he finally did as Marc advised and forced his feet forward until he was looking over your shoulder and humming as he saw just what you were looking at. 

“Ah,” Steven said from behind you, causing you to jump slightly before you turned around, a smile spreading across your face and eyes lighting up as you met Steven’s gaze, “that there is Set. Bit of a knob actually.”

“Oh really?” You asked, not even attempting to stop the laugh that escaped you, completely unaware of how the sound momentarily stunned Steven before he shook himself and swore he would do whatever he had to to keep hearing you laugh.

“Oh yeah, completely mental really, I mean what other word is there for dismembering your own brother and having a fish eat his-“ here Steven cut himself off, already berating himself over his words but then he saw your smile widen and your whole body turned to him, giving him all your attention, your head tilting as he paused. 

He could see Marc in the reflection behind you, the reassuring smile on his face telling Steven that he hadn’t messed up, he could do this. 

“Probably best to start a story from the beginning though, eh?” He continued, encouraged by your nod, smile having yet to fade and attention still solely on him. “Well, Set used to be a hero, people called upon him for all sorts, a protector in life and death but what really made him a hero was saving Ra, the sun god, meant he had made sure the sun would continue to rise. But by the time of the New Kingdom, Set gets a bit jealous, now I don’t know about you but when I’m jealous I don’t go around murdering people but maybe that’s just me.” 

Steven paused as you laughed again, trying to commit the sound to memory before he continued.

“See Set was jealous of Osiris, jealous of the fact big brother was the ruler of Egypt and he wasn’t. It wasn’t just Set killing his brother that was odd though it was the way he did it, instead of, you know, just murdering him quietly Set throws this party, one of those fancy ones, and he brings this casket out after dinner.” The entire time Steven speaks his gaze is locked on you, watching you nod along with his words, expression shifting from smiles to questioning looks and Steven can see the genuine interest on your face, can see that you’re actually listening to what he has to say, listening to him ramble about something he liked. 

Steven couldn’t remember a time when somebody had just let him speak, let him share his interest with them without interrupting him or making a disparaging comment before brushing him off. He had known you were something special from the moment he had met you, hell actually from the moment his eyes had locked onto you but this, this moment right here, just confirmed to him how amazing you truly were, a one of a kind girl he had somehow been lucky enough to meet.

“A casket?” You asked, Steven chuckling at the face you pulled, eyebrows drawn together, nose scrunched up and lips twisting into a grimace.

“Weird right? Well after he brought out the casket he had each of the guests attempt to climb into it but none of them could fit. When it comes to Osiris’ turn, well guess who fits in the casket? Osiris does and when he does get in, that's when Set comes along and slams the casket shut, poor bugger was trapped in the thing all the while Set threw him in the Nile.”

You were more than content to continue standing in front of the glass protected figure listening to Steven as he told you the story about the god it was based on, happy to watch as his hands gestured around as he spoke, observe how his entire face seemed to light up as he got to teach you something, watch Steven be at his most confident as his knowledge seemed to give him a boost. It wasn’t a drastic change, it was only noticeable if you were paying attention, he still fiddled with the edges of his sleeves, still tugged on the strap of his bag but he seemed lighter, completely in his element as he spoke without fumbling over his words and it was a side that you guessed many people didn’t get to see, whether it was due to Steven not showing it or other people not giving him a chance to.

When Steven finished talking he saw your face soften, it was almost of fond expression with something else he couldn’t quite place and it made him smile sheepishly at you, an apology on the tip of his tongue, almost on instinct, for rambling on. He nearly had the words out when you interrupted him and your words almost made his heart ache with happiness.

“So what happened to the brother, did he just die?” You asked him. 

Steven felt his smile widen, not only had you put up with his rambling but here you were asking questions, wanting him to keep talking. It was such a rare thing that all he could do was smile at you, completely and utterly captivated by you. 

He really hoped he wouldn’t mess this up, he was already so gone for you and it was only your first date. Steven hoped to any god that might be listening that there were many more dates to come.

“Well the casket floats down the Nile for a bit before it washes up on the shore and this tree, the tamarisk tree, sprouted up to protect it. The tree was so beautiful that the King and Queen of Byblos cut it down and had it brought to their court. Osiris had a wife, Isis and she tracked Osiris down and managed to get his corpse back, all the while Set’s in Egypt and ruling as King, not a good one mind you, he switched between storms and droughts because he was the god of not only war and chaos but also storms, the people ended up turning on each other just to survive, told you he was a knob.” Steven said, pausing to let your laugh wash over him as he moved his hands to play with the ends of his sleeves once he realised he had been gesturing wildly between the two of you.

“Sounds like he was a bit more than a knob.” You laughed and Steven couldn’t stop the bright smile that spread across his face. “So what, Set just kills his brother and gets to rule Egypt? And Isis managed to retrieve his corpse?”

“Yeah, she gets his corpse back and hides the two of them again in some swampy marshes of the Nile. Once they were back though Set found out and started tracking them down. Isis knew of some herbs that could bring Osiris back and she asks for help to watch the body. When Isis is out though Set comes along and tricks Nephthys into telling him where Osiris was hidden, after he found him he went about hacking his body to pieces,” Steven paused, watching as you scrunched your face in disgust again, hoping he hadn’t put you off but you were still looking at him expectantly so he carried on, not giving himself another moment to doubt himself, “Once Isis was back she and Nephthys went about collecting all the body parts to put him back together but his, um, well a certain part of him was missing, well actually it was eaten by a fish which, you know, bit gross.”

“It was actually eaten by a fish?” You couldn’t help but laugh as Steven nodded, a bright smile still firmly in place as he chuckled along with you. “So that was it then for Osiris?”

“Well since he was incomplete he couldn’t return to the land of the living and instead became the lord of the underworld and god of the death and I can tell you that Osiris doesn’t mess around when he’s judging where you’ll spend eternity.” Steven told you, his tone filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on and his eyes shifted just over your shoulder to look at the statue of Set. 

Steven's eyes shifted to look at the reflection in the glass casing, distracted by Marc’s amused snort that you obviously couldn’t hear, his own smile spreading into a grin as he focused on you again.

“You say that like you have experience.” You laughed and watched him laugh along with you. “So what happens to Set then, he’s the King, right?”

“For a bit, yeah but Osiris actually had a son, Horus, who battled Uncle Set for control of Egypt. The two of them went before the Great Ennead and were given contests to battle against each other. Turns out Set wasn’t very good, actually he was complete rubbish and lost every battle against Horus.” Steven explained and felt his chest warm as you interrupted him but in a way that was so different to how others usually did. 

“So Horus became King then?” You asked, unable to stop yourself. 

In all honesty Ancient Egypt wasn’t something you sought out yourself, you appreciated it and it was interesting but you had never been too eager to seek knowledge out about it yourself. However when Steven was the one talking about it, telling you the stories that matched the figures you were captivated, completely hooked on his every word, and wanted him to tell you everything he knew.

“You’d think wouldn’t you but no, actually, Set reigned for over eighty years because Ra refused to vote that Horus should be the King and because the decision had to be unanimous Set was free to be King.” Steven told you, physically feeling himself fall for you more and more as the seconds passed as you frowned, mirroring his expression when he had first read the information from one of his many books.

It wasn’t until he looked behind you that he saw a group of school children making their way from one of the figures over to the one the two of you had been blocking for a while now. You looked questioningly over at him before following his gaze, eyes widening as the teacher gave the two of you an annoyed look causing you to bite your lip and look over at Steven, a grin breaking out across both your faces as he took your arm in his and pulled you along, the two of you laughing as you leaned into each other.

Making your way further into the museum, laughs fading off as conversation filled its place Steven found himself glancing down, your arms still tangled together despite the fact that they didn’t need to be. Steven was thankful you hadn’t let go of him, he was more than happy to stay attached to you the whole way around the museum.

“Steven?” You prompted softly when the man had remained silent at your question, his gaze on you but clearly having missed you speaking.

“Sorry love,” he apologised softly and you couldn’t ignore how your stomach seemed to fill with butterflies at the word love. It sounded beautiful coming from Steven, sounded genuine and not meant an attempt to flirt that would ultimately leave you uncomfortably trying to get away from somebody. 

You really wanted him to call you love again. 

The two of you made your way around the museum, Steven rambling on happily about each of the different things that were on display but he found himself stumbling over his words at some points, your entire attention focused only on him, expression so open and he could happily stare at you all day. When he watched you mouthing along as you read from the plaques attached to the displays or when your eyebrows knitted together when you didn’t quite understand something and you would turn to look up at him questioningly, it was only with Marc’s helpful calling of his name and quick repeating of the question that he was able to stammer out an answer, memorising the way your face light up as you listened to him.

He had never made somebody smile like that, like the way you were smiling, he had never had that kind of smile directed at him and he most certainly had never been the reason somebody’s whole face seemed to light up or made somebody laugh in the way he made you, a genuine laugh that made his stomach flutter and took his breath away.

Even as he was surrounded by some of the most beautiful pieces and ancient displays that would usually occupy his attention for hours, they all seemed dull when compared to you standing next to them. Steven found he would much rather look at you, learn everything there was to know about you, than anything that was in this building.

You were as equally as distracted as Steven was, completely captivated by everything about the man, by the way he spoke, even when he did stammer over his words as he was pulled from his thoughts, how his arm felt still tangled with yours, how his eyes seemed to light up every time he looked at you. You had never felt so much for one person so fast, never realised how quickly you could fall for somebody and yet here stood Steven Grant seemingly on a mission to see how fast he could make you fall for him. 

The date lasted hours and yet it still didn’t feel long enough when the two of you stood just past the museum steps, reluctant to pull away from each other but having no other choice as you were getting ready to say goodbye, heading home in opposite directions.

“Thank you for today, I had a bloody brilliant time.” Steven told you, a smile on his face as you laughed softly, nodding in agreement with his words.

“So did I,” You said honestly, “I hope we can do it again?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’d love to, absolutely.” Steven’s smile spread into a grin and you couldn’t stop yourself from mirroring the expression, face almost aching from how much the man made you smile.

“Good, I can’t wait.” As you spoke you looked up, feeling rain begin to fall from the grey clouds above and looked at Steven. “We should probably get home before it really starts.”

“Good idea,” he laughed, seeming to hesitate for a moment before he nodded and stepped closer to you, giving you time to pull away. When you stayed as you were Steven smiled before leaning forward but instead of going for the kiss like you thought he would, he instead placed the softest kiss to your cheek before pulling away with a shy smile. “Let me know you got home safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, somehow the soft kiss to the cheek flustered you more than you thought a normal kiss would but thankfully Steven seemed as flustered as you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“God, I hope so.” You heard Steven mumble to himself after you had turned away and taken a few steps away from him, a soft laugh leaving you, fully agreeing with the sentiment and making your way home with a smile on your face even as the rain fell down on you, completely ready for your next date with Steven Grant. 

___________

Steven Grant Taglist -

@bxmaaa, @captainamericasdaughter15, @daisyfreshwhore, @myguiltypleasures21, @polyglot-noodle

greed - marc spector

Greed - selfish desire for money, status or power

So this is in part inspired by @missdictatorme's post here but is also part of my Seven Sins series

have we all seen the tinkerbell gif? do y'all know what that is? you should. if you don't you're too young to be here.

ANYWAY.

cw: guess. spanking, sex, angry sex - not hate sex, marc is just Aggressive, 18+, reader is an avatar for Ra, afab reader, face riding, semi-public sex.

*i made reader small just because of the fairy thing but that doesn't mean 'skinny' it just means proportionally small. this is too many disclaimers just read it xox

He hated asking for help. God, it burned his skin alive to bow down to that level. It felt like he was a grumpy child asking for help with his shoelaces. But even Marc knew it had to be done. This mission was too big to be done alone.

He met your eagerness with cruelty. Refusing to look you in the eye, Marc barked orders and beckoned you into the fight. As an avatar of Ra, you had quite the arsenal for tricks and weapons. Marc didn't want to admit, but it was pretty damn impressive.

With the effortless grace of a dancer, you swept the feet out from another assailant, swinging your mantle expertly into his face.

Marc stumbled back, watching you dance around your opponents, face serene as dawn.

Oh shit-

A man came up behind you, too fast for you to catch. Marc lurched forward too slow, and the man's fist collided with your shoulders. Buckling, you collapsed in a pool of gold shimmer, radiating out from the point of impact.

Huh. Marc filed that away for later, scooping you up and slamming the assassin's face into a stone wall. The man collapsed, surrounding himself in irony crimson sludge.

You would be fine, but Marc still propped you up, pulling off his mask to inspect you for injuries. Catching your breath, you wheezed a grin.

"You...you didn't say you were pretty," you coughed around a laugh, winking at him with your good eye.

Marc flickered a grin, ignoring the way his cheeks heated. A subtle warmth radiated off of you - the heat of Ra's healing rays at work. He subconsciously pressed closer, drinking in the heat. Your breathing had evened, dark eyes watching his with interest. He looked away, shifting back. The luster of your strong arms was intensely preoccupying his mind. It made you pearlescent, glowing in the moonlight.

Sun and moon, two peas in a pod.

He was delirious. Mumbling something about needing bandages, Marc fled, sweeping off into the night sky. He felt the warmth of your gaze burning his back for hours later. Stumbling into the kitchen, he didn't wait to undress before fisting himself furiously to the vision of your halo, crying into his hand.

Every fight, you danced the waltz of tension. The rope twisted and knotted tighter each time, heated gazes now molten magma in your eyes. Marc had his fair share of sinister fantasies, jaw aching with the urge to bite into your neck.

He thought back to the shimmering halo that enveloped you after each hit. He could make you shine brighter than anything.

Hot, heavy lust pounded thickly as he ran, feeling like weight dragging at his heels. His core was roiling, twisting his gut so hard he almost groaned a release in the middle of the alley. The fight was over, you'd parted ways with a slow, coy wink and a flourish of shimmering breeze. The scent of linen and honey coated his mouth like a drug, making logic feel floaty and detached.

Marc shuddered against a wall, growling loudly. He sucked in lungfuls of soiled London air, wishing that it was your smell. Panting, he tried to shut out the building arousal.

"O-oh fuck," he gritted out, flexing his hands against the mossy wall.

Something gently rustled his hair, sweet air swirling around his nose.

"You," he breathed, stumbling towards the end of the alley. Your concerned expression met his.

"I heard you," were the frantic words out of your mouth, assessing him for damage, "are you-"

Marc slammed you against the wall, mouth snarling over yours. A surprised yowl was swallowed by his urgency. You moaned weakly, hands shoving at his chest. Quickly, you relented, sinking into the wet heat of his mouth. He licked and sucked at your tongue, drinking in every noise and breath you made. That familiar heat was rising around your skin, making his spine prickle with lust.

"Need," he gasped, groaning into your neck, "off-"

His strong arms bracketed you against wet brick while he dug his fingers under your wraps, cupping your center with a moan. You rocked gently, eyes wide at the cresting feeling of his fingertips on your wetness.

Marc smiled slowly, greed burning alongside his lust. He watched your expression shift as he softly stroked your folds, shuddering into waterfalls of pleasure. A shimmer flickered around you, enhancing the flush that decorated your cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah," he grinned, watching as you rocked harder, whining into his neck. "I know, almost there."

Marc took another bite of your neck, suckling the fragranced skin. His own need surged strongly, forcing his hips to roll against yours. The dripping heat of you squeezed at his fingers, the suckling sensation enough to destroy the last of his dignity.

Ignoring the public view of this debacle, Marc shoved his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your honey that dripped onto his suit. You were a wreck, heaving and mewling in his arms. He bucked against you, wrenching his cock free. Your eyes widened at the size, and he took a moment to bask in your awe.

Without warning he sheathed himself smoothly, drawing a long moan from your ruined throat. Hot, thick, saccharine pleasure slurred through his delirious mind. Marc thrust up, reveling in the feeling of your cunt. You molded to him perfectly, the soft pink of your walls clenching and fluttering divinely.

"Good, good, good holy ff-fuck-" Marc purred in your ear, shoving you back against a stack of crates. You sighed in pleasure, a cascade of gold shimmer landing on your collarbones. The heady scent of musk and sunlight further emboldened him. Pushing past the ache in his knees, Marc thrust harder, stroking against your depths with primal need.

You huffed and whined, pulsing another wave of shimmer. The lustful haze in your eyes glowed, dewy tears decorating your lashes.

You looked beautiful.

Marc rocked and groaned, hands fisting in your cloak. He couldn't stand - pulling you on top of him as he collapsed against the wet ground. You whimpered, riding him furiously. The halo of pleasure glowed hot and needy around you, warming his skin to boiling. The suit slipped away, revealing listening muscle beneath.

"More," you breathed, moaning brokenly when he slammed you down, hands crushingly tight against your thighs. "More-"

Marc felt his pleasure spiking up too fast, all too fast. He yanked you up, biting back a groan at the strings of slick dripping off his pulsing hard length. The cool night air stung against his sensitive cock, the cooling wetness prickling gooseflesh.

You whimpered protest, scrabbling to return to the heavenly fullness. He smacked your ass, delighting in the burst of glitter that ricocheted. Pulling you onto his face, he took a greedy mouthful of your syrupy mess, licking and sucking in your scent. Above him, you moaned louder, thighs clenching around his face.

Marc stuttered a whine as he felt your strength around his neck, thick tongue plunging deeper. He could feel everything, the wet gummy walls of your cunt trembling at each stroke. The musk that saturated his face smelled of honey and thick, hot summer. It glazed his eyes over, hips undulating into nothing.

His strong hands groped and grabbed at your ass, pulling the tender flesh as waves and waves of shimmer fell onto his skin.

"M...Marc," you stuttered, grabbing onto his hair. "Marc oh god."

A gushing wave of wet flooded his mouth. He refocused, lapping up every drop. The sinful glide of his tongue at your clit splintered heat up your spine, arcing and bucking your spine. You whined high and sharp, riding his face until he shoved you off, mumbling incoherently.

You quivered and sighed, laying in a pool of golden pleasure. Marc had ignored the ache in his core too long. Pawing you back under him, he slowly sank into your freshly soaked cunt, smiling lazily with the overwhelming heat. He felt drunk, rutting into your heat, focused on nothing but pleasure and drawing as much of your beautiful reactions as he could.

Chest heaving with every punching thrust, you hiccupped and whimpered, pleading for mercy with your eyes.

"Good girl," he groaned," good girl, taking it all, good girl." Another moan tore from his throat.

"Give me more."

His demand was insistent, and you swallowed nervously, trying to think past the hypnotizing pace of his hips over yours.

"Wh-what?" you asked, voice high and thin. Marc growled, shoving into you harder, hand wrenching you over onto your stomach.

"Give it all," he spat, smacking your ass harshly. You cried out, shuddering back into his punishing pace. That divine heat spiked higher, another wave of shimmer blanketing the dewy skin of your back. Marc groaned in satisfaction, palm colliding with your supple ass again. He groped you, massaging the flesh and rubbing the shine hard into your skin.

"Sl-slow down," you panted, "slow down I can't breathe ah Marc-"

He folded himself over you, slamming you into the street. Asphalt burned into your cheek as he rutted heavy and hard, hot mouth sucking at your neck. The growls he bit back vibrated against your back. You could feel him harden even more, thrusts becoming shallow and messy.

He needed to see it, needed the proof of your submission. More of the glowing, hot warmth, that sucked him in like a whirlpool and spat him out in a wave of shining dust.

Flecks of gold had rubbed into his skin with the friction. Greedily he smacked you again, grabbing a fistful of your soft flesh.

Slick flooded out of you, slipping obscenely against his length. With a last stuttering whine, Marc spilled into you, bucking and whimpering into your overheated skin. His mouth was insistent and hot, suckling at your jaw. Once the shrieking orgasm had calmed, he settled for mouthing aimlessly, drinking up your pleasured warmth.

Ra's heavenly light basked on your face, blissfully dazed and listless.

The cold night settled over the two of you, intertwined against the wet stones. Marc shakily pushed to his knees, pulling out of you with an obscenely foul sound. You quivered, trying to recollect your thoughts.

Marc gazed down at the mess you had become. Drenched in sweat, cum and golden light, he could feel himself harden again.

A dark voice purred in his ear.

My turn, cabron?

*deep breath* AAAAGHHH I NEED TO EAT HIM

tags: @krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @sharin4readers

comment to join xox

marc spector- slow songs

Summary: Your friend, Marc, pretends to be your boyfriend at a wedding, but is it pretend? (~2.3k)

Contents: f!reader, fluff, fake dating/friends to lovers, language

part of @moonknight-events: MK spring ‘24 Bingo Event

This is the slow song:

-----

“Okay, just be calm. Stay cool, lay low.” You run your hands down your pale, blue dress.

Marc frowns at you. “That’s a terrible pep talk.”

“It’s not for you. It’s for me.” You give him a dirty look. “You’re used to lying to people’s faces, but I’m not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, I deserved that one. But as a reminder, I don’t even want to be here. How’s the suit?”

You look him up and down. He has on a dark suit with a bow tie. His curly hair arranged in neat waves away from his face. He was on a mission somewhere sunny and came back tan.

He looks so gorgeous you want to scream.

“It’s not the worst you’ve ever looked.” You grab his hand and haul him into the reception hall.

“Well, I think you look amazing, cupcake,” Marc says with a grin. “My little candy heart-shaped nugget love, whatever.”

He stretches his neck in his shirt. “I’m gonna kill Steven.”

You sigh. Steven had volunteered to be your pretend boyfriend at a friend's wedding. The only way to avoid being put at the singles table, plus you’d have someone to joke with.

But when you’d told your friend you were bringing your new boyfriend, you’d lied and said you’d grown up together. So, not Steven because of his accent, and Jake was too charming to let loose on unsuspecting bridesmaids.

So, Marc had reluctantly agreed.

Not that you weren’t friends with all three of them, but you and Marc weren’t as close. You were never sure why. Probably because his walls were up so high you could see them from space.

“Can’t we just say we’re friends?” Marc says, loosening his bow tie.

You stop walking and re-tighten it. “No, or she’s going to try to set me up with her cousin. He’s had a crush on me for years. I want to tell him to fuck off, but he’d make a whole thing about it.” You give him another once over, smooth a stray curl off his forehead. “Maybe it worked out better this way. You’re intimidating. That’s good.”

Marc looks grim as you enter the ballroom, quiet classical music playing in the background.

“Anything I should know?” Marc says. “What even is your last name?”

You turn to him, mouth open. “We’ve been friends for months. You don’t know?”

He shrugs. 

“Okay, you know what,” you say, annoyed, “why don’t you pretend to be someone else? Someone who doesn’t walk around with an ancient God’s arm stuck up his butthole, working him like a puppet?”

“Guess I can’t argue with that,” Marc mutters.

Your friend’s parents walk up to you and hug you enthusiastically. You say what a beautiful ceremony it was and turn to introduce Marc.

You hold his hand. “These are my friend’s parents, Maureen and Sidney. And this is my boyfriend.”

Marc holds out his hand, a tight smile on his face. “Tony Wrinklebottom. Nice to meet you.”

You feel like you're having an out of body experience. WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Maureen’s eyes go wide. “It’s nice to meet you too. We haven’t heard a lot about you, but you’re very handsome. And such an unusual last name. Where did it come from?”

“I got it from my father,” Marc says unironically.

You squeeze his hand hard. “We’re going to go get a drink. I’m sure everyone is dying to talk to the parents of the bride. I’ll see you later.”

You plaster on a fake smile and push Marc toward the bar.

“I didn’t mean you had to make up a fake name,” you whisper scream at him.

“I panicked.” Marc leans on the bar. “Whiskey neat and a vodka soda with two limes.”

“You know my drink order, but not my last name?”

Marc takes his wallet out of his jacket to tip the bartender, generously you notice.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “What’s more important to our friendship? Your last name, or my knowing what you like to drink?”

You open your mouth. Shut it. Cross your arms. “This is a disaster.”

“Sure is.” Marc knocks back his first whisky and taps the glass for a second.

He holds his refill in one hand and holds his other arm out for you. You take it reluctantly.

“Let’s find our table,” you say, sipping your drink.

“Whatever you say, cookie-poo.” 

“Ugh,” you say, unable to stop the disgusted look on your face.

Marc smiles. “I take it back. This might be fun.”

And weirdly, it kind of is.

You and “Tony” are at a table with complete strangers. He’s not great at casual conversation, but with a face like his, people kind of go along with whatever he says.

He takes off his jacket and bow tie, and relaxes. Something you usually only see when you’re at his place watching a movie, or bringing him something you’d stress-baked.

Someone asks how you met.

Tony puts his arm around you. “My sweet pumpkin pie and I’ve known each other for years. She finally got the hint. All those times I stopped by with take out, or let her sleep with her head on my shoulder, we weren’t just hanging out.”

You smirk at him. “Pardon me for thinking we were friends.”

Marc’s eyes are almost black in the low light. His long lashes blink at you.

“You think friends plan their entire schedule, international travel, around Thursday movie nights? Friends go out of their way every night to walk you home?” His fingers tickle your neck lightly. 

You frown, your stomach feeling funny. “You said it was on your way from the gym.”

“I picked that gym because it’s close to your work,” he says with a raised eyebrow.

Marc’s face goes serious again. He pulls his arm away and takes a drink. “Look, just forget I said anything. I must be drunk.”

You watch uncertainty pass over his handsome face. You rub your hand over his forearm.

“You want to dance, Wrinklebottom?” You ask with a smile.

Marc huffs a half-laugh out of his nose. “Sure, pookie bear. Long as it’s a slow one.”

Marc’s broad shoulders are strong under your arms. His hands warm and wide as he holds your waist. He smells good. You get as close enough as you dare, breathing him in.

He hums along to the song. You're surprised he knows it.

“Jake says you’re the prettiest thing here,” he says quietly. “And Steven says he apologizes for not bringing flowers. Wait. No. He thinks I should apologize for not bringing you flowers.”

You and Steven had been in limbo for awhile now. You liked each other as more than friends. Jake had already told Steven to go for it. But you didn’t want to make Marc uncomfortable.

“Thank you, and thank you,” you say. You tilt your head away slightly so you can look at him. “And what does Marc Spector say?”

Marc’s eyes trace over your face. He licks his bottom lip. “The wedding cake was dry.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. I’m going to return the gift I got them.”

Marc grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “One of those clocks where the cat’s tail swings back and forth?”

You smile. “Yeah, a big one.”

“Maybe it’s not the cat’s tail then.”

You snort out a laugh. “Stop. Weddings are romantic. No dick jokes.”

“Okay, honey lump, no dick jokes.” He pulls you a little closer. Close enough that your front sides are touching, swaying back and forth in unison. One of his hands rubs the small of your back.

“We can probably leave after this dance,” you say, even though you don’t want to. “We said hello to the bride and groom, ate, had drinks. I think that’s everything.”

“Leave? Tony Wrinklebottom doesn’t leave a party until he slow dances about four times with his girl.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Where the hell did you even get that stupid name?”

Marc’s hand rubs back and forth over your upper back now. “Jake’s watching one of the neighbor’s cats.”

“You named yourself after a cat?”

Marc shrugs. “My last name is Spector, which, given my profession, isn’t exactly subtle either. Besides, you should be so lucky. You could be Mrs. Wrinklebottom one day.”

You laugh, pressing your mouth into his shoulder to keep from drawing attention to yourself. “I always forget what a ridiculous sense of humor you have.”

“Makes you laugh, though,” Marc says.

You raise your head to argue with him, just for the fun of it. Your words die in your throat.

Marc’s looking at you with unusual softness. His head tilts slightly and you think, hope, that he’s going to kiss you. Instead, he cradles the back of your head with one of his hands, and slots it next to his, so your faces really are touching now.

“Your shampoo smells nice,” he says.

Your stomach flutters. “You look really hot.”

“I thought I looked like shit,” Marc says dryly.

You reposition your arms so they’re around his middle, your fingers brushing a little lower than they probably should.

“You’re hot and you know it. In this suit, or your other one when you’re all bloody and sweaty. As much as it pains me to compliment you,” you say.

“Yeah, we don’t really have that kind of friendship, do we? More likely give each other grief than go on and on about how you make the best lasagna. Or thank you for staying over that night last month. When you could tell I didn’t want to be alone. How good you feel in my arms. How much I-“ Marc stops. You feel his jaw tense.

“How much I love you?” You say.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But I did.”

You’ve stopped dancing. Both you standing in the middle of a crowd of people who are still moving back and forth slowly. You desperately hope that you haven’t made a mistake by saying something.

Marc’s gaze burns into yours. “Do you mean it?” He asks.

You smile. “Yes. And, not to sound full of myself, but I think you feel the same way.”

A grin cracks his serious facade. “I meant what I said earlier. About the things I do for you. Showing you how I feel.”

Love washes over you, covering your memories with Marc in warm light.

Part of you is grateful. He’d given both of you time to really know each other, set down a solid base together. But at the same time, he’d been so slow about it you want to shake his muscled shoulders.

“You’ve never even tried to hold my hand,” you say. “I thought we just had this awkward friendship, where you overdid it sometimes and retreated from me other times.”

“I was trying not to scare you away,” Marc says. “And you know how I am with feelings. I don’t like admitting that I have them.”

You roll your eyes. “I know. Talking about your feelings would really eat up your punching-people-in-their-faces time.”

“Punching people is easy.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you say.

Marc’s hands nudge your hips and you start dancing again. He doesn’t look tense, or anxious.

“If we do this,” Marc says, “I’m still your awkward friend.”

You pull him close, leaning in to kiss his cheek. His facial hair is already a little rough under your lips, even though he’d shaved just before you’d left.

“Maybe you’d get the upgrade to awkward boyfriend,” you say with a smile.

He kisses the side of your head. “I’d like that.”

“But just so you know, any time we go out, the reservations are going under your alias.”

Marc doesn’t even sigh. He just keeps dancing, his hands tracing over your body. “Mr. and Mrs. Tony Wrinklebottom.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Anthony G. Wrinklebottom.”

Marc chuckles. For the first time, chest to chest with him, you feel the deep rumble under his rib cage. You press in closer.

“Deal,” Marc says. He rests his knuckles under your chin so you’ll look at him. “So you’ll go out with me?”

“On one condition,” you say with a sweet smile. “What’s my last name?”

Marc’s smile freezes on his face. He shuts his eyes tight, but if you know Jake and Steven, they’re more likely to laugh at him than to give him an easy out.

He does that frowny smile that means he gives up, spins you around the dance floor.

He pulls you back in close to him. “I know other things about you. Like, we’re going to that place with the burgers and the fancy french fries for our first date. You can’t make reservations, but Jake knows the manager and we could skip the line.”

You groan. “I love that place.”

“I know,” Marc says smugly. “And the shop with the raspberry gelato for dessert. Walk through the park with the fountain you like. On Fridays the buskers that play Fleetwood Mac and Springsteen are there. We'll sit on the bench under the broken light, more privacy. That's where I want to kiss you.”

“Wow, that’s a good date,” you say, breath knocked out of you by Marc's words and eyes and plans.

“It should be, I’ve been fine-tuning it for three weeks,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You rest your hand against his cheek, rubbing your thumb on his skin. “This Friday, then.”

Marc nods, one of his hands resting around your waist, the other so light on the back of your neck you can barely feel him. He rests his forehead against yours as the song comes to a close.

“You look beautiful. Did I tell you that?” He says. “My little sugar bunny, cherry pie dove bean-“

You clap your hand over his mouth. “You’re what my grandma would’ve called, ‘a real piece of work.’”

He smiles under your palm, picking up the rhythm of the second slow song and easing you into it. You remove your hand, slide it back over his shoulder.

If this is the last thing you ever do as just friends, then Tony’s right. You don’t want to leave. You want to stay for all the slow songs.

-----

Square B "Fake Dating"

**MK Spring '24 Bingo masterlist**

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couldn't resist - marc spector

cw: failed aftercare/pos, overstim intensely, a bit of begging, desperate moon boys, Bodily Fluid. cnc, both are in a consenting relationship

not...kinktober but definitely something.

You shifted, whining uncomfortably as Marc shifted your knees up to your chest. The muscles in your legs were Useless after Steven had pounded you into a pulp. Reduced to a melted mess, you spread limply over the soaked mattress. Steven had smothered you in kisses for a bit until you were both exhausted. Marc had fronted immediately after, patiently wetting a rag and swiping gently around your folds.

"Lay still," he murmured, stroking your knee comfortingly. "I don't wanna hurt you."

You tried to stop trembling, waves of aftershocks sending occasional shockwaves through your limbs. The torn edges of your focus slowly restitched themselves as the soothing warmth brushed over your raw skin. The rag was gone, and Marc had begun gently rubbing in lotion.

Deliriously, you curled into yourself. A nap sounded wonderful. He grunted and righted you, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Almost done, honey, just wait."

You huffed a petulant sigh. Your pussy ached for a break, even though Marc was being very gentle. Your pink folds were puffy and glistening, leftover arousal still leaking steadily. Steven had sucked you dry but the stimulation was a little too much. Marc hummed quietly, fingers trailing absentmindedly through the mess.

"M-Marc," you hissed, twitching away. He chuckled and the feeling disappeared.

"Sorry, got distracted," he said sheepishly. Carefully, he lowered your legs to the downy blanket. The dirty ones were hastily shoved to the unused side of the bed. Steven fucked you closest to the wall so he'd have something to brace against. How considerate - he'd left half of the bed free from cum.

Your eyelids were heavy while you watched Marc dispose of the rag and lotion. He returned shirtless and dressed for bed. You scrunched up tighter, muscles aching pleasantly.

"Spread your legs, baby, it'll feel better. You're adding to the pressure." Marc gripped your thighs and tugged you down, gently opening you up to the cool night air. You tensed, preparing for another round.

All done, no more teasing. After a moment, you relaxed, realizing he wanted you to calm down. Marc leaned against the bedframe, eyes trained on your blushing, fucked out form.

"You're so pretty," he cooed, a finger tracing your ankle. You smiled blearily and patted the mattress.

"Sleep w' me," you mumbled, tongue thick and throat raw. Marc didn't respond, mouth open slightly as he stared at your ruined cunt. His hand absently began stroking the bedpost, eyes dark and soulful. You whined louder.

"Marc."

His lusty gaze snapped to your face, something warm and hidden glowing inside.

"I love you," he murmured, "you know that?"

Confused, you nodded, still unsure why he hadn't joined you. Marc crawled over the bedframe and knelt over your legs, hands rubbing gently on your waist.

"Sorry, baby," he whispered in your ear, lips brushing your earlobe. Frowning, you tilted to look at him.

"Wha-"

He shucked his shorts and with a massive groan sheathed himself in your warm, abused core. You arched and hollered, nerves reigniting at the sudden sensation. Marc moaned and shuddered, hips pumping slowly as your folds sucked him in.

"I know, I know," he groaned, warm palms groping at your love-bitten breasts. The sticky heat of your pussy gripped him wonderfully, all soft and wet from Steven's round earlier. The whimpers and sobs rolling out of you were music to his ears as he fucked long and hard.

"C-couldn't resist," he hissed, biting back another moan, "you j-just ah looked so p-prettygodfuckuhh," the sudden pulse of your gummy walls made him seize up, shuddering to grip onto the headboard. Marc howled and ground harder, hips jutting into yours.

It was hot, raw pleasure inside. Your body and mind were warring - one drank in the pleasure and the other actively shunned it, twitching and moving away. Marc's strong hands kneaded into your pillowy thighs and you moaned loudly, pulsing around his length.

The hazy grip of pleasure was choking any logic from Marc's mind. He knew you needed rest; Steven had just fucked your brains out for two hours. But god when you stared at him with those big doe eyes and a positively dripping cunt...

He couldn't resist.

A painfully fast climax had you in a headlock, sending searing heat downwards. Waves of hot sticky slick poured out, ruining the fine job Marc had done of cleaning you up. The added heat made him shudder and groan, churning that syrupy mess inside. He wanted to nestle inside as far as he could go, drowning in pleasure and your musky heat. It was an addiction. He needed to feel every velvety smooth stroke inside.

"God, why, ugh, why right n-now?" you moaned, writhing under Marc's strong grip. He didn't respond, laser focused on the heavenly drag of your flesh against his. His thighs were shaking with the force of his pleasure.

"Jus' a little more," he grunted, ravenously devouring your plush lips. The honey-sweetness of your mouth coupled with the succulent feel of your silky cunt was a lethal combination. He'd have to sprint to last long enough.

Even in your state, Marc knew you could take it. Steven was gentle with you even at his worst. Whatever he'd done to you earlier wasn't close to your limit.

So he pounded harder, rocking the mattress with the pistoning of his hips. Each thrust made a loud, wet sound against your raw pussy. The bounce of your tits demanded attention, which he happily provided. The added stimulation sent you spiraling.

You could feel your insides molding around him, gasping deep when he stroked under your sternum. The thick, raw energy that rolled off of your boyfriend had you drooling, slumping into his grip. Marc took the hint and flipped you flat on your back.

The mattress squeaked in protest to his pace, your hips punching into the soft fabric. Any hopes of salvaging the sheets were....not a priority.

Marc whimpered and ground up higher, trying to fuse himself to you. The inebriating heat of your cunt was making him stupid, humping and moaning like a dog. You were divine like this, flushed and utterly ruined underneath him. The stiff peak of your clit flared and pulsed with need.

He dragged a calloused thumb over your pearl, sending another crippling wave of pleasure up your spine. You flexed and gushed around his length, stirring the magma in his stomach. Time was all mushy and Marc struggled to slow himself.

Pace yourself, slow down, he remembered. But it was too much, too hot, too wet and tight and-

"Oh h-hell," he choked, cock pulsing and blushing red as he staved off his climax. He knew you were close, and the thought of finishing together was too good to pass up.

"Come on," he urged, stroking your clit and sucking on your jaw, "you can do it, baby, come on-"

Limbs locking tight with pleasure, you sailed over the hurdle, soaking his lap with your slick. Marc rutted and throbbed into you, muffling his moans in your neck. His aborted thrusts pushed his spend back inside, gushing and sticking obscenely on your thighs.

"Oh, sweet thing made a mess, huh?" his voice teased as you shuddered and hiccupped. Your response was severed by the dragging sensation of him drawing backwards. You wailed, your overstimulated folds weeping his seed and yours. The creamy slick glistened on your red, aching flesh.

Icing on a cake, Marc thought blissfully, mindlessly rolling his hips into a pillow. You saw his slowly hardening length and dragged in a slow breath. A fat, wet tear bubbled down your cheek as you met his dark gaze.

"B-but-"

"M sorry," he breathed, reaching for you, "it's so hard to stop..."

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m tags! comment to join!

Hello Pygmi! I wasn't sure if your requests were currently open, but nonetheless, I was wondering if you could possibly write a Moon Boys x fem reader, where the reader has both ADHD and BPD.

If you feel uncomfortable with any of this, then please feel free to ignore.

That aside, I hope you have an outstanding day.

Cheers! 💞

for sure my requests are open!! also I did a bunch of research on bpd and I really hope that it isn't inaccurate PLEASE tell me (respectfully) if it isn't!! obv every experience is different so I tried to make it as general as possible.

content: angst with a HAPPY ENDING GUYS we have happy endings here ok? mentions of mental illness, hurt/comfort, fluff, insecurity, healthy relationship dynamics ftw, afab reader and very sweet cuddles

(I made it sad I'm sorry, oops but it is fluffy, dw)

It was one of those days. A little drizzly out, cold fog still curling around your ankles. It made the boys' hair curl wonderfully, little dewy drops of condensation sparkling on their waves. Although it did feel like a wet dog when Steven smashed his face in your neck for a hug.

"Steven, honey, you're soaked," you shrieked, flinching from the wet sensation. He laughed, shaking out his hair.

"Sorry, but the bus got stopped up so I thought I'd walk," he said sheepishly, hanging his sopping coat over the radiator. You wrinkled your nose at the water pooling on the floor.

These were your favorite days; nothing to do, nowhere to go, just a nice rainy day with a cozy flat. There was leftover soup in the fridge - Marc had taken to meal planning so you didn't stress about making dinner. You'd gotten all the laundry done during a hyperactive period where you speed-cleaned the whole apartment (you'd set a record, a little less than two hours!). You were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sit on the couch and watch television.

Steven, now changed into warm, dry clothes, poured himself a cup of tea.

"Hey, love, Jake wants to go grab somethin' for his car, but we'll be back soon, yeah? Just a few brake pads or whatever," he explained, catching your tense expression. You thumbed the ring on your finger.

"Can you text?" you offered. He nodded around a mouthful of Earl Grey.

"Sure, love, we'll be back in a bit." He pressed a warm kiss to your cheek and ducked out the door, Jake's hat tucked under his arm.

You took a deep breath and counted to ten, reminding yourself of Steven's promise. It was really nice how the trio had stepped to with communication. You felt a little over-attached sometimes, but Steven put in a ton of effort to keep you in the loop.

Pulling a blanket from the dryer, you curled up on the sofa and drifted off to the sound of a movie.

You woke later to a still empty flat. Frowning, you turned off the television and sat up. The lights in the kitchen were still off, Jake's jacket and hat were still gone.

Why hadn't they come back yet? Surely it had been long enough.

You slipped on a pair of socks and padded through the flat, peeking in every room. You didn't want to call out in fear that the boys might have just gone to bed, but it appeared you were alone in the flat. Huh. Okay. Well.

A little agitated knot began to grow in your chest. Deep breaths. Small problem, this is a small problem. He's fine. Probably just a long line at the store.

Feeling a stronger rush of adrenaline, you went to the kitchen and pulled out a few ingredients. You'd bake something while you waited. It helped take your mind off his absence and also, you were hungry.

two cups of flour, half of sugar. a bit of salt. You hummed a song while you measured, laser focused on the mixing bowl.

one teaspoon of-oh. Steven said he'd text if something happened. Dropping the spoon, you rummaged around the couch cushions until you grabbed your phone.

No messages. You refreshed the app and got the same answer. Chewing your lip, you hovered over the bowl of half-mixed ingredients. should I reach out? don't wanna intrude, maybe they've got some Khonshu work.

Nevermind that. You should just finish the snack. Muffins were a good choice - you could eat them tomorrow for breakfast. There were bananas getting old on the counter, so in they went.

half of the batter with chocolate chips, half without. Jake always made sure to put a note on your recipe so you didn't forget. He liked the chocolate on the side.

The oven timer ticked down as you waited, licking the spatula clean. It was very late now.

it wouldn't hurt to reach out. You typed out something quick and finished the batter remnants.

hi love, hope you and the boys come home soon. x

You'd sent it to the group thread so that they'd all see it, no matter who was fronting.

The rain had started up again, but now the thrumming was irritating. Your agitation built, and you tugged at the hem of your shirt. laundry. do some laundry.

Yanking the hamper from the closet, you shoved all the darks into the small washer and slammed it closed. The heavy thud-thud-slosh-thud-thud echoed in the empty flat. The emptiness was tearing at your nerves.

You hadn't missed anything. No anniversaries, no dates, no meetings. All the errands were done. The big chores were done. Nothing big at work for Steven or you.

"Why isn't he home?" you huffed, pacing in front of the door. He said he'd be an hour. He promised-

it's okay. if he wanted to reach out, he would. they all would.

did he not wanna talk to you?

That idea send a cold sheen of sweat over your arms. Shuffling to the couch, you curled under the duvet and shivered. No, it wasn't that. Steven kissed you goodbye and promised. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and burrowed into the faint smell of Jake's cologne. Maybe he'd be here when you woke up.

Sleep did not want to come out, apparently. You tossed and turned for a while, ate a muffin, went back to the couch, ate another muffin.

It had been two hours before you heard Jake's muffled car door slam.

Your eyes were achy and tired, and a buzzing adrenaline headache had been thrumming at your ears.

Jake was halfway through the door when you yanked him inside.

"Hey, ba-"

"Why didn't you text?" You stared at him, eyes searching his surprised face. He blinked, slowly shutting the door and removing his hat. Grease was smeared on his forehead.

"I'm...sorry, baby, I got real busy," he said genuinely, pulling you in for a short kiss. You scowled and pulled back.

"But...but Steven said you'd text if something happened."

"Okay-"

"You didn't," you emphasized, flexing your hands anxiously. Jake paused, taking in your haggard expression. Realizing the issue, he set down the bag of supplies and gently tugged you forward.

"Hey," he whispered, rubbing his hands on your shoulders. "I'm sorry, amor. I didn't mean to let time get away from me, and it did."

"But-"

"I'm sorry I scared you, but me and the two were perfectly safe the whole time. I'd never intentionally shut you out, okay?" Jake looked at you again, eyes wide and sweet. He rubbed your cheek, the soft leather of his gloves grounding you.

"I'll remember next time. Look, I'll put a note in my phone." Still wrapping you tight to his chest, Jake set a reminder, letting you watch him type it out. txt when leaving.

Your irritation quelled, leaving behind a small inkling of shame. You curled into his shirt, still damp from the rain. Jake shucked his jacked and pressed a kiss to your hair. Out of the boys, he was the best at handling little escalations. He held you for a bit, casually stroking your head with his warm hands.

"Did you make something?" He asked, catching a whiff of the banana bread. You nodded, gesturing to the kitchen. Tugging you softly behind him, Jake grabbed a muffin and took a massive bite.

"it'sh good," he mumbled around crumbs, wagging his dark eyebrows. You smiled tiredly, feeling better already. He bumped your shoulder and flopped on the couch. His socks didn't match, you noticed, curling up into his side.

The silence wasn't so bad now that you could hold him. Jake's heart beat steadily under your ear, warm and soothing. He continued rubbing your back comfortingly. The muffin was gone, but the two of you still sat in silence. Sleep tugged on your shirtsleeves, and you were tempted to just pass out on his chest.

Jake nudged your nose with his thumb, tilting your chin up.

"Hey, c'mere," he said gently, pulling you up to his face. You averted his gaze, feeling shy from your earlier outburst. Jake squeezed you a little tighter, poking your sides until you squirmed and bit back a grin.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes soft and warm. You met his gaze then, fighting through the awkardness. At his crooked smile, you melted, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"It's okay," you said, half-smiling back. Once he saw you relax, Jake's face broke into a bigger, crookeder grin.

"Oh, you can do better than that."

Diving forward, he smothered your face in light, sweet kisses. You giggled, shoving his chest back onto the cushions. The adorable attack lasted a few minutes, until your cheeks were pink and you were laying on top of him. Still laughing breathlessly, you snuggled tighter, taking a deep breath of his detergent.

Your hands laced together and you kissed him again, slower. Jake hummed, soft lips sucking gently on your tongue. He tasted sweet and tart, like...

"Did you go to the farmer's market?" You said accusingly, eyes narrowing. "You taste like danishes."

His eyes widened, caught in the act. "No! I ate a muffin, is all," he covered, cheekily kissing you again. His diversion did not work against your detective skills.

"No, you taste like cherries-"

"Amor, would I lie to you?" He said in mock offense, hand braced to his chest. Snorting, you made a move for the bags in the kitchen.

"Yes. Yes, you would," you poked out your tongue, causing him to stick his out right back. Your hand just brushed the edge of a pastry bag, when-

Shrieking, Jake scooped you off your feet, twirling you back to the couch and attacking your ribs. His warm hands were ticklish against your soft sides, and you quaked with laughter.

Dissolving into giggles, you both fought over the last pastry, cut in the shape of a heart.

I HOPE I DIDN'T MAKE IT TOO SAD! also sorry for taking so long!!!!!!

tags: @krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m

xox comment to join!

Ok, so I must have missed a few brain cells and it shows on my newest fanfic wip; Which is basically Maddie Perez from Euphoria with Marc/Steven from Moon knight and honestly I'm kinda obsessed rn.

In this au he's introduced to Maddie by Jules as his "Cool Uncle who just moved from London and seems kinda lonely; So why not give him a chance and go out for dinner, just you two?",so Maddy does it and all end well; so he asks her in other date and the time she's graduating from high school they end up hopelessly in love with the other, but Nate still want Maddie back (aka Mr. I-need-someone-to-put-me-in-my-place)

Mark get control of the body when Nate tries to hurt Maddie AND insult him; which ends with he almost dead, then Mark leaves bc of Konshu bs, goes back to London leaving her behind, but then ✨SOME✨ things happen and she finds out about the entire moon knight thing and shit still happening....

BUT I strongly can't elaborate at the moment, just because it's too much detail and writing (and I'm kinda working on a trailer?); I honestly don't know how this works out, but let's see where my imagination guides me in this meanwhile....

So, maybe a new fic and crackship? 🤔 👀

*These songs bring me the vibe to picture a few moments of this fic....

The London Daily Ride [3]

Not in Service

# Pairing: Jake Lockley x female reader (light Steven Grant x female reader) # Synopsis: Sweet and kind Steven is part of your daily rides on the morning bus. However, today, Steven isn’t stepping in. Instead, someone else shows up.  # Warning/Content: Angst, Character Study, Unhealthy/Toxic relationship, Sexual Tension, Enemies to Lovers (kind of). # Word Count: 3.2k [Part 1] · [Part 2] — [read me on AO3]

Today is different. Today is not the same. He’s not. That, you can immediately tell. He enters the bus, and from the first step on the linoleum, a deep glaciation makes its way into your ribs and freezes solid the core of your chest. The reflex of hailing him a “Good Morning!” buries itself in your throat, and you swear suffocation is only a breath away. Strange, isn’t it? To know someone so well and not recognize them? For a second there, you wonder if a case of face-blindness can happen overnight. You hope so. The alternative is far more devastating. 

He takes three decided steps. He sits where he usually does, perhaps the reminiscence of a habit. Inspects its surroundings; his mouth shut in a tight line, as if he was finding it almost distasteful. You think for a few seconds that even the clothes are different, but they aren’t. The clothes are Steven’s. You can recognize one of his favourite shirts; geometric patterns of white and malachite that echo The Great Green; Osiris. His clay-grey jacket. And yet, it’s like witnessing a different actor embedding the role of your favourite character. He makes a sudden move to adjust the clothes more tightly wrapped around his shoulders. Cracks his neck. Runs a firm hand through his hair to keep them back. His face free from the curls that normally frame his forehead, his features are stern. Implacably indifferent. Then he leans back with ease, crossing one of his legs nonchalantly, an arm laying on the other passenger's empty seat. As soon as he makes himself comfortable, his eyes meet yours. Shit.

Caught red-handed. You couldn’t have been more obvious, but you just didn’t think he was really paying attention. Steven is often daydreaming or laser-focusing on your conversations or the book on his lap. Steven is a lot of things. However, he doesn’t pretend. He does. The thin and almost invisible hairs on the back of your neck bristle. You look aside. Then, through the window and you wish the blush of shame away, and of course it does nothing. Ever tried to order veins not to dilate? Of course not, you fucking idiot, you think, trying desperately to gather yourself. Your peripheral vision warns you that his silhouette is not moving. A controlled halt, your instinct feeds you. Similar mannerism, you would assume, of a military sniper seeing the head of his shot. You’re the one being studied now, and the burn creeps even more at the surface of your skin. Treacherous carmine is rising to the surface of your cheeks and making its way towards your aching chest. You can’t even think straight. This is a nightmare, and it’s not stopping. The sense of familiarity like smoke slipping away between your grasping fingers. Steven is there, but he’s not. An outsider made its way onto his insides. Something is terribly wrong. Like an Ushabti being inhabited by another essence. You do not dare to cross his eyes. The birth of your neck and now forearms, warning with goosebumps. And for good reason: is there anything more horrific than seeing someone you care for vanish in front of your eyes? Whether it be illness— physical or mental? Horror is no jumpscare and neither is a good story shared at night around a bonfire. True horror is a familiar scene being torn apart by a single, disquieting detail. A detail that you know to be of importance yet always seemed ordinary before. His eyes. His eyes are not the same. A void is replacing your guts. Nothing feels tangible. You’re hollow. Uninhabited. Unlike the man you think you knew. Breathe, you try to remind your sympathetic system. And think. And your brain does. He’s kick-starting the gears, running with the urge to feel safety through comprehension. Regaining control through knowledge, that’s what you’re good at. Coping. Organising thoughts. Then arguments. Sometimes, the scalpel is useful. Your mind begins to pinpoint why it has triggered such a nuclear reaction in your core. 

Through the weeks, nearly a month and a half, Steven had become a familiar figure in the urban jungle. A bubble-sharer. A comforter. Losing that was breaking the new builds of a welcomed refuge. No refuge, no familiarity. No familiarity; thus, anxiety. Even more so: the primal fear of losing someone to an unknown alterity. Hell is other people, would say Sartre. For you, hell was just people you didn’t know.  It has only been a minute. Sixty long seconds, since he has pinned you down with the two black holes that are in place of his eyes. Seven forced, slowed cycles of breath. It’s only then that you are able to conjure your sight to cross his. You feel the rush of adrenaline roaming your back as you discover the expressionless face of Not-Steven. The unfamiliarity of his familiar traits pierces your sternum. A stillness you’re unused to, you realise, as Steven was always fidgeting in some way, unless consumed by his favourite subject or by you. Shame is making its way back onto your cheeks, but you hold on. That’s when there’s finally a reaction. Desperately slow, you see one of his brows lifting lightly. His pupils are graphite. But you hold on. By the same reflex and the same logic when facing a wild beast. Only a fool would turn around and run, offering their spine as a perfect prey. And as of now, you can’t be spineless. 

Though beneath the fear, beneath the urge to stay put like a deer in the headlights, you can feel a deep contraction grasping your lower insides. At first, you mistakenly recognise it as a light menstrual cramp, and yet, it’s not quite the same. Flirting with pain, the ache is putting its claws deep between your legs, as the reptilian part of your brain registers the blown wide irises in front of you as a sign of arousal. It’s clear now that the panic you’re experiencing has just become adrenaline; confused about its own role. Conjure a fight or flight response? Or conjure an unforgiving blaze? Flames licking at your lower lips, your jaw contracts. And as you’re thinking to drop your sight just below to greet his mouth, he grins. 

Fuck. 

There are teeth behind a smile. 

The expression doesn’t reach the corner of his unlit iris; two endless pits that summon to fall down. The only adjective that comes to mind is perverse. Still, you’re not quite sure if it should define his or your reaction. From there, you can only hold on to your seat. Quite literally. A wildfire amidst your entrails. It reaches your breasts with an undignified ripple of pleasure. You can feel your eyes drawn to his pursing lips, unable to detach themselves. He lifts his head lightly and, with an unsettling tranquillity, begins to whistle. At that distance, you can’t make out the tune. Only snippets are meeting your eardrums; the rest is engulfed by the sound of the hydraulics of the bus; hissing when stopping, the engine rumbling steadily, people talking. Even if there was nothing else but a vacant room, your brain wouldn’t be able to compute anyway; far too discombobulated by the flux of steroid hormones and thus by the roaring in your ears and far lower organs. How many minutes does it last? Off and on, he’s letting you go from his sight. Still sneering and whistling, looking serenely around. Then he’s getting back to you. His head is nodding gently from side to side. Stopping the pursing of his lips for a few, long, seconds, before resuming his tune again. Little mouse that you are, he’s letting you go from time to time before clawing his way back to you.  The encounter is violent. No words are exchanged, but there’s knowledge lingering in the air. You know. And he knows you know. He makes a blatant show of it. A power-play already won. The twin hypothesis that goes on in every telenovela just won’t hold when it comes to him. To Steven. Or whoever else might be in there.  The bus hisses to a halt, and with an excruciating noise that seems to break your stupor, the doors open to deliver more passengers. Amongst them, a fairly older woman with long grey hair obediently gathered in a low ponytail. Reflexes built over years spent in the capital make you stand on your own two feet. You don’t even feel them. To tell the truth, it comes as a surprise that you’re able to be in a vertical state at all. Your bus stop is nearly a few stations away. Your mind hyperfocuses on the new stimulus. A recomforting tunnel of attention that allows that wild sympathetic system of yours to ignore all other factors and regulate itself. Don’t look. Don’t feel. You’ll deal with all that later. For now, focus. As the older woman is waiting to pass in front of you to the newly spare seat, the spark of her golden pendant catches your eye. You recognize a highly stylised ostrich feather. Steven has been thorough when putting his passion into words. You can easily convey his voice: warm and pedagogical, patiently explaining. And it’s suddenly as he’s close to you, almost whispering into your ears:  The feather of Maat is at the heart of Egyptian civilisation, as he could have gently reminded you. It’s lovely, innit…? How can such a light little thing have such weight in an entire civilisation? The Weighing of the heart, you mean? You question the phantasmagorical version of Steven. You can almost hear him chuckle. It’s the point of convergence of your attention. Yeah, yeah. Deciding if you’re worthy of the Field of Reeds and all tha'. But that’s for when you’re dead. For the likes of us, you see, the feather is a reminder: to live in peace is not easy. Your brain raises an eyebrow, requiring more historical facts that you had somehow memorised. To be honest, focusing on what was coming from Steven’s mouth was hardly a problem. There were times; you wished to absorb all of him, as if you were one. To abide by the feather… is to tell the truth. As I said: Not easy, you know? The Egyptians were quite right about this one. It’s really the only way to prevent chaos. He seems to be looking through your eyes, as Egyptian gods would do with their statues. And for now … it’s not looking so good for me, is it? What ?

“Tranquila, señora, tranquila.” You stumble. You're unsure if it’s due to the moving bus or to him. With your eyes on the attribute, you didn’t see him coming. He’s near her, near you. Replacing Steven. Offering the traveller his seat, as you entirely forgot to move enough to allow the lady with the Feather pass through. You had just stood there. Body frozen; mind racing. Oh God, oh god, oh god- You’ve been dissociating again. How long was it?

“Tak’ a seat,” you overhear him say. It’s not Cockney, yet some of the sounds are the same. The accent isn’t truly Spanish either, despite the use of it. East Coast American is your best guess. Is he faking that? It sounds like blasphemy compared to the beloved accent you’ve come to know. The gears in your brain want to pinpoint the details, determine exactly where you’ve heard that before. Where exactly? No. Stay focused; stay in the present. Stay present. Don’t escape elsewhere and hide. What’s happening now? Well … To begin with, he isn’t talking to you. Good. Second, you sincerely hope he won't offer you anything. Not a seat. Not a sentence. Not even a word. Steady now, you scold yourself. Still standing vertically, you pivot your feet to make your way well in front of the automatic doors. Grabbing one of the yellow poles of the bus; holding it dear like a lighthouse in a storm. Looking straight ahead. The Exit. Third and finally, just like a two-year-old toddler learning about object permanence, you hope that if you don’t see him, he doesn’t exist. He doesn’t see you.  “Why don’t you take a taxi next time, querida?” Realising he’s at your side electrifies your whole body. You can’t move. Heart drumming like the fluttering of a hummingbird. And yet, deep below, arises a fire that you snuff out violently. Silencing the truth. Your mouth is dry when you respond: “No.” One strangled syllable. It’s barely an answer. Not even a sentence. In any other context, it would have been incredibly rude, however, you both know it’s a blatant excuse for an interaction. And you can’t decide if it’s a positive or negative one. All you can feel is your weakening knees. And the brushing of his sleeve against yours, paced on the swaying of the bus. “Está bien, está bien…” he tempers with a faint smile in his voice. Is he enjoying this? He pauses, and from the very corner of your eyes, you make out his shape; scrutinising. “Even if I’m the driver? Aguas, querida… I could take it personally.” Is he a cab driver? What’s a cab driver doing on a bus, then? You don’t understand. You can't think properly. You focus, so your voice doesn't waver. Focus on what? You grip the yellow pole a little tighter. 

“Not interested.” Let me out. Let me out. Let me-

"Mh," he hums and your skin prickles, "pero que pena, no? Together, I’m sure we’d break the devil’s dishes." You don’t recognize the expression. It sounds misplaced. How is Steven doing that? Is he doing that? No, no. He’s not. He can’t be. This isn’t a fucked-up role-play. That, at least, is clear. So, who is to blame for Steven’s disappearance?  You ultimately lay your gaze on him, utterly confused, trying to keep it all in. The sting. The shock. The blaze. The echo of security you’re used to experiencing with Steven is still there. And presently, so does the dread. He doesn’t say anything. Most people fill in the blanks; are uneased by silence. Not him. He is simply keeping his eyes on you. Not willing to let go. Relishing. Like the red halo of a hunting rifle. Trying not to alarm the prey while still keeping its aim on it. A hot swelling in your chest torches its way into your abdomen. “We don’t need to break anything.” You don’t know how you had the guts to say that. Maybe it’s just your subconscious acting as a relay. Or maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself.  He responds again with silence, keeping his mouth shut in a thigh line. This time, he shoots. His huge hand swiftly snatches yours. Holding it down. You gasp for air, but nothing comes.

Before, your respective sleeves were only grazing. Now, his fist is crushing yours. It’s painful. It’s warm. And because it’s forced, it’s guilt-free. Your eyes plunge, and they can see a hidden rictus that wants to lash out. Pulling you closer to him with a lingering strength; as if he didn’t need any in the first place. As he perfectly knew that your resistance was merely superficial. With a mix of aversion and elation, you feel the heat of his other hand penetrating your coat, as he enters one of your pockets. Even through layers and layers, your skin detects his flat palm against your side with an accuracy that scares you. Your flesh and very bones feel the low humming of his muscles, ready to take more drastic measures. You think you might faint. This is too much; and at the same time, it leaves you wanting. The sheer potency of his grip; his control over what comes next oddly puts your mind at rest. He’s the one with his hands on the wheel. His fingers following the curve of your belly resume their descent, and as you think he might capture you into oblivion or perhaps fondle you, the warmth disappears altogether. He is holding your phone. Thumb on the home button. It unlocks.  “Thought I didn’t keep an eye on you, mh?” His fist still crushing yours and the yellow lighthouse are your sole anchors left to reality. In overlong, agonising touches of his large digit on your screen, you observe him enter a phone number. How? How had he gained access? Steven hadn’t. And a moment of shared intimacy was yet to come; to be able to steal your phone in the middle of the night, protected by a moment of shuteye.

Your whole body hums back and trembles. He must have noticed the treacherous tremolo in the heart of his hand, but once more, he uses silence as a weapon. The dull glow of the screen is the only change you can see on his stern face. Then, he locks it anew. The screen goes black, like an echo of your brain. In less than a breath, the weight of your phone is back in your pocket, and the growing pressure that was crushing your fingers withdraws. It all ends the same way it began: abruptly, rough. Raw. He adjusts the side of your jacket; admonishing, commanding: “Don’t lie to yourself.”  If you think that you couldn't redden harder, you’re deadly wrong. Before that mouth of yours can barely utter a word or your eyes can even glance at him with indignation, the bus is coming to a full stop. You feel yourself losing balance, however, to be fair, it was already lost on you a few minutes ago. The halting vehicle makes you miserably collide, and it’s like you’re a wave crashing on concrete. He doesn’t budge. The arch of one of your brows bumps against his collar bone. The rest of you collide with him, and warmth envelops you like a cape. Your synapses register your body pressed against his, your breast crushed against his torso. And it’s another surge, far more devastating, that arises within you. You hold on to the grey jacket of Steven. Steven. When you ruthlessly pull away, as the gates are opening, the grin is back on his lips. Little mouse that you are. “Todo bien, cariño?” You don’t even respond. The exit begs you to step out. And you do. "If you need a ride into the city," he informs, nodding at your pocket, "the name is Jake Lockley." You don’t look at him, fearing that the two black holes would engulf you without the mercy to ever spit you out again. You refuse to break anything owned by the devil, but you sure as hell head out of the bus as if he were himself chasing you.  Your feet are finally on the concrete. Solid. Yet, your mind doubts the earth could still support you. The doors hiss shut behind your back. Your breath is erratic. Your body reduces to trembling limbs. The grumble of the motor fades away, but the guilt stays. Your phone could burn a hole in that fucking pocket.

Your brain could recognize the charismatic pull of an avoidant relationship in any circumstance. That was it. Logic is screaming at the top of its lungs about how you recognize those patterns now. Through hard-earned experience. Never again, you have sworn to yourself. And to your therapist.

The signs are there. The adrenaline. The magnetic pull. The consuming thoughts. The unbearable focus that eclipses anything or anyone else. You can feel the hyperfixation building itself up as you’re thinking. Replaying again and again small details that ignite your reward system in a fucked-up way. A broken player that you thought you had fixed after several years of therapy.

No, no, no- This can’t happen. You swore.    That part of you is healed.

Don’t lie to yourself.

It turns out that the brain can rationalise all it wants; what’s between your thighs doesn’t give a shit about toxic patterns.

tranquila : easy; don’t worryestá bien : fair enough; all right querida : dear; paramore break the devil’s dishes :  [brooklyn slang] have a wild time aguas : [guatemalan slang] carefull

# Dedication : To @grumpyahjumma, who is such a sweet human being <3 Thank you for existing ! # Taglist : @pri00r  , @medivalpersephone , @hereforsmutbcicantgetenough  , @thebadasssass  , @griffinkid2187  , @fandomtrash465  , @randomchick546 , @romanarose   , @galactic-galabee  , @actuallyanita  . # A/n on DID : Hello there <3 I want to stress that Jake Lockley isn’t the “evil side” or “bad side” of the System. Jake is probably more of a Protector. Everything here is through the subjective point of view from the Reader; her own experience, projecting her past traumas. The goal will be to overcome those conceptions; hence the perception of Jake. Generally speaking, please know that people experiencing DID do not have what fiction would call “a beast” or an “evil Alter" (as in the movie Split, for example). When an Alter has persecution tendencies, it’s mostly towards the System itself. Thank you!

Messy Little Thing

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @unspokenmoon

Kinks - Kissing + Crying/Sobbing

Summary

You and your dad's best friend are getting messy in your childhood bedroom.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, blowjob, cum eating, fingering, cum swallowing, kissing, makeup running, messy/sloppy

Word Count: 954

----

“Look at you honey, such a messy little thing, aren’t you?” Marc asked as he thrust his cock into your throat once again.

You gagged in immediate response to the assault on your throat. You knew your mascara must’ve been streaming down your cheeks. He hand a strong grip on your jaw, holding onto it between his thumb and fingers while fucking into your mouth. He threw his head back, moaning deeply against the walls of your childhood bedroom. His head dropped back down and he looked at you.

“Does your daddy know how good you are at this kind of thing…oh f-fuck…”

You started to slide your hand down between your legs, letting the pad of your middle finger find the swollen bundle of nerves that was there, begging for attention. Marc let out a dark chuckle, biting his lip when you swirled your tongue around him. You gagged again, but that only made him push in further, enjoying the feeling of your throat contracting around his heady girth. You grabbed onto the meat of his hip for stability with your free hand.

“That’s it, that’s my good little girl, fuck yourself with those fingers honey, fuck yourself until you’re moaning pretty all over my cock.”

You did as you were told, plunging two of your fingers into your wet heat. You felt your cunt flutter around them in response to his nearly primal groaning over the way you sucked his cock. You started pumping in and out of yourself, moaning at the feeling of your growing arousal. Just listening to Marc come undone because of you could make you lose yourself right then and there.

“I can hear your wet pussy baby, so wet just from sucking on this cock hm? You like it that much? Oh you’re such a filthy-little-girl.” He said that last part in the dirtiest, most depraved, gravely tone you’d ever heard from him. “Want you to close those lips for me, wrap them around me tight as you can honey.”

You whined, feeling fresh tears trickling down your cheeks as you did what he asked. He started fucking harder, picking up to a bruising pace. You could feel the fat head of his cock hitting the back of your throat painfully, but you weren’t going to stop him. You could handle a bit of pain…especially for Marc.

“I’m gonna come baby, and I’m gonna fill up your mouth with it, but I don’t want you to swallow yet, alright?” He looked at you, waiting for your response. “You just hold it there for me, okay?”

He continued thrusting, and you moaned an affirmative over his cock. You felt his ass cheek tighten while his thrusting slowed. You felt his sticky hot cum coating your mouth as his length twitched and throbbed, stretching out your tightly wrapped lips. Marc sounded so good when he was at his climax; his voice so rough and wrecked with every exhale.

You were surprised when he pulled out of you and knelt so his face was in front of yours. You kept your lips closed to make sure his cum didn’t fall out. He pushed you by your shoulder so that your back was resting against the footboard of your bed.

“Move your hand honey, let me take care of you. You’ve been such a good little girl, sucking my cock so well.”

You pulled your fingers from your cunt. You tried hard not to open your mouth and spill his spend all over yourself when he replaced your digits with his much larger ones inside your needy hole. While he pumped himself three knuckles deep into you, he leaned in, lips almost touching yours.

“Kiss me honey.” You were shocked by his demand, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Do what I tell you.”

You opened your mouth just enough so you could kiss Marc. He was harsh, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in close. You gasped in surprise, feeling his tongue searching for yours in the sea of his cum. He found it, melting his mouth into yours over and over. You felt his spend dripping down both of your chins and onto your bare chest. 

It was the wettest kiss you’d ever experienced, and yet it still wasn’t as wet as your soaking cunt was with his fingers stuffed inside. You arched your back into him. Feeling the way his lips kept moving against yours made the heat pool in your core even faster. He pulled back from the kiss, smiling against your mouth and talking through the mess.

“You’re going to come for me now aren’t you honey?” He chuckled, “can feel your pussy squeezing so tight, come on, give it to me. Come all over my hand baby, wanna be covered in you.”

He went in for more kisses; sloppy, wet, cum coated kisses. You couldn’t hold out any longer, not that you were really trying, and you had to break your mouth from his to hang your head back and moan deep through your climax. Marc leaned in and slotted his lips back over yours, continuing to kiss you through your orgasm. He ate every one of your moans while your cunt gushed over his digits until finally, you felt your mind coming back to reality.

When you were done, Marc looked at you. He smiled, appreciating his work. You were a fucked out little mess, makeup running down your face in black streaks, lips puffy and swollen from his harsh kissing. Not to mention how perfectly glossy your mouth and chin were, coated in a layer of his spend.

“That’s my pretty little girl,” he kissed you again, “so pretty.”

----

Marc Spector Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Take What You Need

Yandere Marc Spector X m!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by @theluciansystem

Kinks - Sexual Frustration + Character Offering Themself

Summary

Marc hasn't fronted in a while and is feeling some pent up sexual frustration. He comes to you to satisfy his needs.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, anal sex, anal creampie, unprotected sex, dubious consent, reader was kidnapped previously and has been living with them for a while, hand job, simultaneous orgasm, Marc is a top, reader is a bottom.

Word Count: 942

Marc came barrelling in through the door to your room, face filled with an expression you’d seen before on a few occasions. He started removing his belt immediately, and you gulped feeling fear pour over you in a wave. When he got like this he was rough, and while you could handle it, that didn’t stop you from feeling a small pang of terror pooling in your gut when he looked at you that way. He must’ve just come back from arguing with Khonshu or one of the boys.

“Come on, how many times do I have to tell you to get ready for me when I come in here? Huh?”

“S-sorry, sorry,” you said hurriedly, sliding off your sweats and scrambling to position yourself the way you knew he liked: face down in the mattress and rear poised in the air.

He always expected you to get ready the moment he walked in, and you were already failing, only serving to piss him off further. You knew the rules, yet you were acting like this was all new to you. Despite his aggravation, Marc smirked when he saw how good you looked from behind. His cock ached between his legs. He was so ready to fuck every ounce of frustration he had into you.

“That’s a good boy,” he said in a low, gravelly tone, striking your ass cheek with an open palm. “Haven’t been inside you in a while. Jake and Steven have been having all the fun, you sure you can handle me honey?”

You nodded, “yes, yes I’m ready.”

It wasn’t like you really had a choice. If you didn’t offer yourself to him willingly, he would just take you anyway. You felt a glob of spit trickle down over your tight ring of muscle. Marc pressed his fat tip against the furled skin, pushing against it to test how easily you would open for him. Marc spit over his cock, grabbing it firmly in his hand and making the length wet before pressing against your hole again.

“You better relax little boy, or this is gonna hurt,” Marc pushed into you, sliding forward full to the hilt, letting out a choked groan as his hips pressed flush against your rear. “You’re so damn tight, fuck…f-fuck.”

Marc slid back and then snapped his hips forward again, resulting in a muffled whine from your lips as you stuffed your face into the mattress. He reached his hand around, caging his fingers around your thick cock, chuckling as he stroked along the length.

“You’re so fucking needy, always playing coy and acting like you don’t want it, but you do want it don’t you? Huh? You need it.”

“Y-yes I need it Marc I–ah!”

“That’s a good boy.”

Marc leaned back, and looked down at the way your hole puckered around his girth. He had you stretched out so wide, you were squeezing him so fucking tight it took a bit of effort to pull back far enough to slam into you again and again…but he did it. He rocked into you, putting every bit of aggravation he harbored into each deep thrust. You whimpered into the mattress, clutching your fists around the sheets tightly.

“Yeah, that’s it, cry for me little boy, cry while I fuck you wide open. Feels good right? That’s why you’re whinin’ like that for me isn’t it?” 

“Yes, fuck-yes!”

He leaned forward again, grabbing onto your girth once more and stroking along your length. Your entire body shuddered under his touch, forcing your hole to clench around him. You heard him let out a choked moan, dropping his face into your shoulder blade. You gasped when you felt him bite down into your flesh. He let out a growling groan.

“F-fuck–honey–shit,” he rasped, mouth still pressed against your back. “You’re squeezing me so tight, so goddamn tight. Steven and Jake haven’t been doing their job have they?”

You were too fucked out to respond anymore. He continued jerking you off, keeping a steady and even pace in tandem with his thrusting hips. The sound of his pelvis slamming against your rear was almost deafening.

“They’re supposed to keep you nice and stretched out for me, but guess they haven’t been doing that very well huh?” Marc snickered against your shoulder, “or are you just this tight all the time?”

You felt yourself getting close, the way your balls tightened and your cock grew harder under the pressure of Marc’s closed fist. He moved faster, angling himself to get deeper inside of you, cock continuing to split you open around him. His other hand was squeezing onto your hip so hard, trying to keep you in place so you didn’t fall forward.

“Can feel your fat cock leaking all over me…my-needy-little-boy–fuck!”

Marc’s hips stopped suddenly with his length buried deep inside you. You felt your hole stretch wider as he throbbed, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. He didn’t stop his fast paced stroke around your own weeping shaft, forcing a choked sound to escape you while you came in his hand. Marc waited until you were finished and growing soft to bring his hand to your mouth.

“Clean it.”

You obeyed, darting out your tongue to lap up your own spend from his fingers. You heard his soft, pleasure laced breaths from behind you while you did. He pulled out of you, making you feel empty immediately with the absence of his cock inside your hole.

Marc stopped in the doorway on his way out, “I’ll be back in an hour…and you’d better be on your knees and ready for me.”

----

Marc Spector Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Prized Possession

Marc Spector + Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested By @lonelyisamyw-0love

Kinks - Possessiveness + Double Penetration

Summary

Your boyfriends Steven and Marc finally give you something you've wanted to try.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, the boys are in separate bodies, the boys are not related, poly relationship, double penetration, anal, p in v sex, p in v creampie, anal creampie, squirting, praise kink, soft marc, sex, smut

Word Count: 1,209

You, Steven and Marc had talked about this before, but you hadn’t done it until today. You’d been dating for a while, but you’d never taken them both at once, they usually took turns, and that was always fine with you, but not today. Today, you were on your back, laying against Marc’s chest with Steven in front of you. Steven’s hands were holding the backs of your knees, keeping you spread out for them.

“We got you all good and ready ahead of time baby, so this shouldn’t hurt too much, okay?” Marc said softly in your right ear.

You nodded, “okay.”

“I can feel you shaking love, you sure you’re ready for—”

“She can take it, she’s fine,” Marc cut him off with a forceful tone, “you can take anything right, honey? Just make sure to breathe through it.”

You took a deep breath and nodded again, closing your eyes as Marc pushed through your well prepped, lesser used hole. Your eyes shot open wide, meeting with Steven’s beautiful but concerned gaze. You gave him a gentle but wobbly smile to reassure him that you were fine.

He looked down, seeing Marc’s thick length disappearing into you, stretching your hole out around him. Steven impatiently lined himself up to your cunt, feeling the slick of your arousal coating his girth while he dragged it over your folds. Steven’s grip around the backside of your knees tightened as he slid forward, bottoming himself out inside your wet heat. His entire body trembled as he felt Marc through the thin barrier.

“Oh shit, love.”

The three of you let out a unified and pleasure filled groan into the apartment. They began alternating thrusts, pistoning back and forth into you at a moderate pace, letting you get used to having yourself stuffed with both of them at once. Steven tossed his head back, messy curls falling into his eyes while Marc kissed the side of your neck, just below your earlobe from behind you. You’d never felt so full in all your life, you felt like no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t breathe properly. 

“How’s that feel, honey? How’s it feel being fucked in both of your little holes, hm? I can feel you squeezing so tight around me…fuck.” The breath in his lungs punched out, hot on your cheek.

“I feel so…so full, Marc. So. Full.” You grabbed Steven’s strong biceps for stability while his hands stayed firmly around the back of your thighs, holding you open.

“Shit, you feel that Steven? Baby if you don’t relax I’m not going to l-last.” Marc reached one hand up to squeeze around your breast and the other moved between your legs, fingers rolling over your swollen clit.

You arched into them both, angling in a way that made Steven shudder and glide in deeper, bumping your cervix on the next thrust.

“Oh my—love, you feel so good, look how well you’re taking us. These tight little holes are always so good and ready for us love, they know who they belong to, right? That’s why you drip like a little fountain when we take you, yeah?”

“Y-yeah, yes Steven—ohhh!”

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl for us, honey. Taking us both so well.” His middle finger continued to glide over your hardened clit, moving faster now.

“Can feel you Marc, fuckin’ her so good, can feel it on my—oh I can feel it inside her. Go faster please.” Steven looked at you with lust etched into every pore, “you can take it right love? Been doing great so far, it just feels so…please Marc, fuck—please.”

You whimpered as Marc started fucking you faster at Steven’s command, both cocks punching into you at an unforgiving pace. Marc shushed you, nipping your neck softly and moving his finger over your clit in a more satisfying motion. You felt the unmistakable burning in your core…you were getting close.

Marc could feel Steven too while he thrusted harder and faster into your ass. He knew you’d tell him if it was too much. Your shaky moans and whimpers of pure intoxicated pleasure told him you were doing more than fine. 

“Oh love, your sounds are so pretty, that must feel good, yeah? Having two big cocks fuckin’ both your holes at once? You look so lovely.”

Steven looked down at where you were connected and tilted his head. Your pussy lips were swallowing his girth, while your tight rim did the same for Marc. He could see how your arousal dripped out of your hole, trickling over his cock and leaking down onto Marc’s length. You were wetter than he’d ever seen you. When he looked back into your eyes, you looked like a cock drunk mess…just how they liked you.

“You doing alright, honey? Oh fu—of course you are, can feel you about to—oh there you go, feel that, Steven? There you go baby, let it out.”

You were nearly screaming, body tensing while they continued fucking both of your holes through your orgasm. You threw your head back, feeling Marc latch his lips down over your throat. Your mind stopped working completely.

Steven’s and Marc’s did too. The way your holes squeezed around them, clamping down in waves while they continued alternating their rocking hips. They were close, but not quite there yet. You were completely spent though. Marc didn’t stop rubbing your clit, despite your cries for him to stop.

“Shh, you’re ok baby, I’m almost there, we’re almost there. Come on Steven, keep going. Shhh, honey, I know you can take it. You’re doing so good for us.”

It wasn’t their assault on your holes that made it difficult, it was the way Marc was still toying with your clit. You couldn’t take the over stimulation. It was building inside, and you felt like you were going to…oh no you were about to…

“Steven, Steven move I’m gonna—FUCK!”

Marc knew what it was you were doing. They’d never made you squirt before, but oh you sounded so beautiful when you did. Steven could tell right away that this was something new, not urine, not cum, but something else entirely, and it was amazing. Your entire body was trembling over them, cunt clenching around him even harder. Steven’s abdomen was covered in this new liquid. It soaked him and trickled down his thighs to the bedding. Marc was…the man was a genius.

“Did you just—? You’re so wet, love, I’m gonna— not gonna make it love. Oh god, oh god —ahhh!”

“Yeah that’s it, Steven, fill her little hole, you feel that, honey? You like getting stuffed full, don’t you? Don’t you? Oh shiiiit— gonna fill you up too baby—shit!”

They were both groaning through their simultaneous orgasms while they fucked their cum deeper into you. You felt numb at the end there, like your body was just a sack of potatoes stuck between them. When they were finished, both going soft inside of you, they each were kissing your cheeks and lips telling you how perfect you were for them, and how well you did. As you all came back to reality, the door to the bedroom opened and the three of you looked over in surprise…Jake.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Post

Please

Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by Anonymous

Kinks - Restraints + Begging

Summary

Marc is normally the one in charge, but he becomes a begging, whimpering, mess when you’re the one making the rules.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, smut, sub!Marc, restraints, crying men, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, begging, sex, pwp, reader is kinda dom

Word Count: 918

----

It started as a joke with the ankle restraint. Marc was fronting and you were walking up to the foot of the bed when Steven’s makeshift solution for his sleep-walking caught your eye, wrapped around the post to your left. You took it in your hand, raising an eyebrow at Marc with a smirk he’d come to recognize as a playful and devious one.

Now, a few sexual rendezvous later, you had both of his wrists tied together to the headboard, and both ankles spread apart and restrained on the posts at the foot of the bed and he was crying. His throbbing cock was reddened at the tip, leaking clear precum down the sides like a little fountain, and you were such a fucking tease. You leaned in, hands gripping either one of his powerful thighs as you pursed your lips and blew a gust of air on his weeping erection.

Marc tensed, rattling the restraints on the bed as his cock twitched in response.

“F-fuck baby, please just…” He planted his feet on the mattress and bucked his hips upward into nothing, growling as he did “when I get my hands on you,” he spoke harshly through gritted teeth, “gonna tie you down and make you piss yourself you need to come so bad honey.”

“Oh, Marc, honey, that’s not how you talk to me when you need your release is it? Seems like you should be asking a lot nicer.”

You swirled your finger around his precum slick head, inciting another choked whine from his spit glossed lips. He threw his head back, whimpering into the apartment. Such a pathetic little boy he was being. You chuckled, popping your finger in your mouth and lapping it free of his fluids. You smirked, biting your lip.

“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

You brought your hand so it was hovering just outside the length of his shaft. He glared at you, and you knew you needed to up the stakes. So you dropped your hand, smirking at him and then you straddled him, resting a leg on either side of his waist, pressing your hands on his chest and leaning in. You brought your lips close to his, and he kept them tightly pressed.

“Really Marc? Are you so prideful that you won’t beg me to fuck you? You don’t want my soft…” you started to lower yourself on him, “wet…” you got lower, his face was red and he looked like he might bite his lip off, “tight little cunt.”

You sat down completely on his lap, and you felt him thrust upward, getting himself in as deep as he could before you pulled off of him quickly. You tsked, leaning over and kissing his cheek. You could feel the tip of his cock resting at your entrance, bobbing desperately, begging you to let it in there all on its own.

“Come on Marc. Tell me how badly you want it baby.”

You heard a frustrated sob escape him. You let your lips and tongue drag over the vein protruding in his neck. He moaned deeply, and you felt him thrust forward, trying so hard to be defiant and get his way without giving you the payment you asked for. You looked at him and grabbed his stubbled jaw.

“Look at you, crying because you want this pussy so bad. All you have to do is ask nicely honey and I’ll give it to you,” you had such a shit eating grin on your face, you wondered if he would just summon the suit and put you in your place for your bratty attitude.

“Please,” he murmured quietly. 

“Nope, speak the hell up baby, I know you can do it.”

“Fuck…I said…please fuck me!”

“Good boy,” you said with that same smirk you knew was making him angry in the first place.

You’d never heard such whiny whimpers come from Marc’s lips until you started sliding your impossibly slick cunt over him. You moved fast, slamming your hips down in a hard and steady pace. Marc threw his head back, nothing but a raspy air expelling from his lungs. You leaned forward, taking one of his nipples into your mouth and flicking your tongue over it.

He grunted and shot his head back up to look at you. His eyes were dark and hooded with desire. You knew there was merit to his words earlier, that he was going to make a mess out of you once you were done with this little game he was letting you play.

Your game came to an explosive end when Marc’s hips stuttered and you felt his fat cock twitching wildly inside of you with every hot spurt he fed into your cunt. You kept moving harder and faster, chasing your own release until you were gushing your own mess over him in waves, using his cum to slide easier against that spot deep inside of you that only he could reach. 

You were both a moaning and panting heap as you put your entire body weight on him once you were completely spent. He didn’t seem interested in resting. Marc moved quickly, calling the suit around himself underneath your limp frame. He broke the restraints free, and in the process snapped the headboard and posts at the foot of the bed. You squealed when he grabbed your throat and hip, lifting you up and pinning you down underneath him.

“My turn babygirl.”

----

Moon Knight Masterlist

greed - marc spector

Greed - selfish desire for money, status or power

So this is in part inspired by @missdictatorme's post here but is also part of my Seven Sins series

have we all seen the tinkerbell gif? do y'all know what that is? you should. if you don't you're too young to be here.

ANYWAY.

cw: guess. spanking, sex, angry sex - not hate sex, marc is just Aggressive, 18+, reader is an avatar for Ra, afab reader, face riding, semi-public sex.

*i made reader small just because of the fairy thing but that doesn't mean 'skinny' it just means proportionally small. this is too many disclaimers just read it xox

He hated asking for help. God, it burned his skin alive to bow down to that level. It felt like he was a grumpy child asking for help with his shoelaces. But even Marc knew it had to be done. This mission was too big to be done alone.

He met your eagerness with cruelty. Refusing to look you in the eye, Marc barked orders and beckoned you into the fight. As an avatar of Ra, you had quite the arsenal for tricks and weapons. Marc didn't want to admit, but it was pretty damn impressive.

With the effortless grace of a dancer, you swept the feet out from another assailant, swinging your mantle expertly into his face.

Marc stumbled back, watching you dance around your opponents, face serene as dawn.

Oh shit-

A man came up behind you, too fast for you to catch. Marc lurched forward too slow, and the man's fist collided with your shoulders. Buckling, you collapsed in a pool of gold shimmer, radiating out from the point of impact.

Huh. Marc filed that away for later, scooping you up and slamming the assassin's face into a stone wall. The man collapsed, surrounding himself in irony crimson sludge.

You would be fine, but Marc still propped you up, pulling off his mask to inspect you for injuries. Catching your breath, you wheezed a grin.

"You...you didn't say you were pretty," you coughed around a laugh, winking at him with your good eye.

Marc flickered a grin, ignoring the way his cheeks heated. A subtle warmth radiated off of you - the heat of Ra's healing rays at work. He subconsciously pressed closer, drinking in the heat. Your breathing had evened, dark eyes watching his with interest. He looked away, shifting back. The luster of your strong arms was intensely preoccupying his mind. It made you pearlescent, glowing in the moonlight.

Sun and moon, two peas in a pod.

He was delirious. Mumbling something about needing bandages, Marc fled, sweeping off into the night sky. He felt the warmth of your gaze burning his back for hours later. Stumbling into the kitchen, he didn't wait to undress before fisting himself furiously to the vision of your halo, crying into his hand.

Every fight, you danced the waltz of tension. The rope twisted and knotted tighter each time, heated gazes now molten magma in your eyes. Marc had his fair share of sinister fantasies, jaw aching with the urge to bite into your neck.

He thought back to the shimmering halo that enveloped you after each hit. He could make you shine brighter than anything.

Hot, heavy lust pounded thickly as he ran, feeling like weight dragging at his heels. His core was roiling, twisting his gut so hard he almost groaned a release in the middle of the alley. The fight was over, you'd parted ways with a slow, coy wink and a flourish of shimmering breeze. The scent of linen and honey coated his mouth like a drug, making logic feel floaty and detached.

Marc shuddered against a wall, growling loudly. He sucked in lungfuls of soiled London air, wishing that it was your smell. Panting, he tried to shut out the building arousal.

"O-oh fuck," he gritted out, flexing his hands against the mossy wall.

Something gently rustled his hair, sweet air swirling around his nose.

"You," he breathed, stumbling towards the end of the alley. Your concerned expression met his.

"I heard you," were the frantic words out of your mouth, assessing him for damage, "are you-"

Marc slammed you against the wall, mouth snarling over yours. A surprised yowl was swallowed by his urgency. You moaned weakly, hands shoving at his chest. Quickly, you relented, sinking into the wet heat of his mouth. He licked and sucked at your tongue, drinking in every noise and breath you made. That familiar heat was rising around your skin, making his spine prickle with lust.

"Need," he gasped, groaning into your neck, "off-"

His strong arms bracketed you against wet brick while he dug his fingers under your wraps, cupping your center with a moan. You rocked gently, eyes wide at the cresting feeling of his fingertips on your wetness.

Marc smiled slowly, greed burning alongside his lust. He watched your expression shift as he softly stroked your folds, shuddering into waterfalls of pleasure. A shimmer flickered around you, enhancing the flush that decorated your cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah," he grinned, watching as you rocked harder, whining into his neck. "I know, almost there."

Marc took another bite of your neck, suckling the fragranced skin. His own need surged strongly, forcing his hips to roll against yours. The dripping heat of you squeezed at his fingers, the suckling sensation enough to destroy the last of his dignity.

Ignoring the public view of this debacle, Marc shoved his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your honey that dripped onto his suit. You were a wreck, heaving and mewling in his arms. He bucked against you, wrenching his cock free. Your eyes widened at the size, and he took a moment to bask in your awe.

Without warning he sheathed himself smoothly, drawing a long moan from your ruined throat. Hot, thick, saccharine pleasure slurred through his delirious mind. Marc thrust up, reveling in the feeling of your cunt. You molded to him perfectly, the soft pink of your walls clenching and fluttering divinely.

"Good, good, good holy ff-fuck-" Marc purred in your ear, shoving you back against a stack of crates. You sighed in pleasure, a cascade of gold shimmer landing on your collarbones. The heady scent of musk and sunlight further emboldened him. Pushing past the ache in his knees, Marc thrust harder, stroking against your depths with primal need.

You huffed and whined, pulsing another wave of shimmer. The lustful haze in your eyes glowed, dewy tears decorating your lashes.

You looked beautiful.

Marc rocked and groaned, hands fisting in your cloak. He couldn't stand - pulling you on top of him as he collapsed against the wet ground. You whimpered, riding him furiously. The halo of pleasure glowed hot and needy around you, warming his skin to boiling. The suit slipped away, revealing listening muscle beneath.

"More," you breathed, moaning brokenly when he slammed you down, hands crushingly tight against your thighs. "More-"

Marc felt his pleasure spiking up too fast, all too fast. He yanked you up, biting back a groan at the strings of slick dripping off his pulsing hard length. The cool night air stung against his sensitive cock, the cooling wetness prickling gooseflesh.

You whimpered protest, scrabbling to return to the heavenly fullness. He smacked your ass, delighting in the burst of glitter that ricocheted. Pulling you onto his face, he took a greedy mouthful of your syrupy mess, licking and sucking in your scent. Above him, you moaned louder, thighs clenching around his face.

Marc stuttered a whine as he felt your strength around his neck, thick tongue plunging deeper. He could feel everything, the wet gummy walls of your cunt trembling at each stroke. The musk that saturated his face smelled of honey and thick, hot summer. It glazed his eyes over, hips undulating into nothing.

His strong hands groped and grabbed at your ass, pulling the tender flesh as waves and waves of shimmer fell onto his skin.

"M...Marc," you stuttered, grabbing onto his hair. "Marc oh god."

A gushing wave of wet flooded his mouth. He refocused, lapping up every drop. The sinful glide of his tongue at your clit splintered heat up your spine, arcing and bucking your spine. You whined high and sharp, riding his face until he shoved you off, mumbling incoherently.

You quivered and sighed, laying in a pool of golden pleasure. Marc had ignored the ache in his core too long. Pawing you back under him, he slowly sank into your freshly soaked cunt, smiling lazily with the overwhelming heat. He felt drunk, rutting into your heat, focused on nothing but pleasure and drawing as much of your beautiful reactions as he could.

Chest heaving with every punching thrust, you hiccupped and whimpered, pleading for mercy with your eyes.

"Good girl," he groaned," good girl, taking it all, good girl." Another moan tore from his throat.

"Give me more."

His demand was insistent, and you swallowed nervously, trying to think past the hypnotizing pace of his hips over yours.

"Wh-what?" you asked, voice high and thin. Marc growled, shoving into you harder, hand wrenching you over onto your stomach.

"Give it all," he spat, smacking your ass harshly. You cried out, shuddering back into his punishing pace. That divine heat spiked higher, another wave of shimmer blanketing the dewy skin of your back. Marc groaned in satisfaction, palm colliding with your supple ass again. He groped you, massaging the flesh and rubbing the shine hard into your skin.

"Sl-slow down," you panted, "slow down I can't breathe ah Marc-"

He folded himself over you, slamming you into the street. Asphalt burned into your cheek as he rutted heavy and hard, hot mouth sucking at your neck. The growls he bit back vibrated against your back. You could feel him harden even more, thrusts becoming shallow and messy.

He needed to see it, needed the proof of your submission. More of the glowing, hot warmth, that sucked him in like a whirlpool and spat him out in a wave of shining dust.

Flecks of gold had rubbed into his skin with the friction. Greedily he smacked you again, grabbing a fistful of your soft flesh.

Slick flooded out of you, slipping obscenely against his length. With a last stuttering whine, Marc spilled into you, bucking and whimpering into your overheated skin. His mouth was insistent and hot, suckling at your jaw. Once the shrieking orgasm had calmed, he settled for mouthing aimlessly, drinking up your pleasured warmth.

Ra's heavenly light basked on your face, blissfully dazed and listless.

The cold night settled over the two of you, intertwined against the wet stones. Marc shakily pushed to his knees, pulling out of you with an obscenely foul sound. You quivered, trying to recollect your thoughts.

Marc gazed down at the mess you had become. Drenched in sweat, cum and golden light, he could feel himself harden again.

A dark voice purred in his ear.

My turn, cabron?

*deep breath* AAAAGHHH I NEED TO EAT HIM

tags: @krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @sharin4readers

comment to join xox

Ghost Of You (Marc Spector x GN!Avenger!Reader)

summary: y/n dies at Vormir instead of Nat

wc: ~1k

content: poor attempt at angst, mentions of y/n’s death, mentions of the blip, steven and jake are not part of the fic, marc is not the moon knight when y/n dies

Pov: second person

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the split of the Avengers, everyone that was on Steve’s team, you being one of them, was either in prison or on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D and the United States government. You were on the run. Those stupid accords had caused you to flee the country, and move to London. Granted, a more secluded country would’ve been more safe, however, moving to London had always been a dream of yours. While in London, you met Marc Spector, the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life. You were wearing your Led Zepplin shirt when you met. The same one you wore when you fled the United States. You and Marc eventually fell in love with each other and got married. A small courthouse wedding that was just the two of you. No guests. It was all you could’ve asked for. 

One night while you were laying in bed with Marc, you got a call from an unknown number. You looked at each other with confusion before you answered and put it on speaker phone. You and Marc looked at each other before you finally spoke up, “Hello?” You asked with slight fear in your phone. You jumped a little when the voice responded. It was your best friend, Nat.

“Y/N, I need you to come to Wakanda. It’s an emergency,” She said before hanging up.

“Who was that?” Marc asked.

“An old friend, and I guess she needs my help.”

“Do you know when you’ll be back?”

“No,” you sighed, “but until then, you’ll be just fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The surviving Avengers in Wakanda took you back home in the Quinjet. You just sat there in silence, thinking about Marc. Wondering if he was one of the unlucky people to turn into dust. When you walked up to your front door, it was locked. You ran the doorbell hoping that Marc was there to open it, and he was. You lunged into his arms, crying as you told him everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five years later Nat decided to visit you. Her hair had grown longer and her natural red was conquering the dyed blonde. As the two of you were eating lunch at a small café, she brought up that the Avengers might have a way to bring everyone back and that they wanted you to help. You agreed and immediately headed home to tell Marc. Just like last time, Marc asked, “Do you know when you’ll be back?”

“No,” you sighed, “but until then, you’ll be just fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little did Marc know, that would be the last time he would see you in person. Steve had delivered the news about your death to him. Everyone wanted Nat to, but she felt like it was her fault that you died. She told you about bringing everyone back. She went to Vormir with you and left with the Soul Stone, but not you. It was nobody’s fault that you died. Marc was understanding that Nat wasn’t the one to tell him. Out of all the Avengers, she was grieving the most. You two were the closest after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning Marc decided that he was going to clean up the house. He put on your favourite playlist, and started with your coffee mug that was on the coffee table in the living room. It had been sitting there, unfinished, for months. The same mug you were drinking out of when Nat had arrived to London. Marc sighed, as he picked up the mug. Your pink lipstick stain had slowly been fading away over time. He put it away before heading to the garage to clean out old  boxes. He found a box that had your name on it, and opened it to see what the box had contained. Digging through, he found old photos of you and the Avengers, and below it all was your Zepplin t-shirt. Marc wiped a tear from his eye as he remembered that you wearing this shirt when you met, and how you told him it was the same one you wore when fleeing the states. Marc dropped the shirt in his lap and sat on the garage floor for what felt like hours before he heard the faint sound of your favourite song coming from the living room speakers. It was A Man Without Love by Engelbert Humperdinck. He got up and headed to living room to slowly sway with the song. It reminded him of you. The lyrics, and the fact that it was the song that was playing when Marc proposed. That was why it was your favorite song.

 “Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Lonely is a man without love

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love”

You played the song so often that one day Marc asked you to turn it off. He had started to get sick of it, however now, he felt as if he would never get sick of it. He turned it up and danced around the house pretending that you were singing the song, and dancing with him. That night, Marc decided to sleep in your shared bed, instead of on the couch like he had been for the past few months. He took your Zepplin shirt, placed it on your side of the bed, and put on A Man Without Love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the next week, Marc visited your grave for the first time. He finally had some closure over your death. He placed down a bouquet of lavenders as he sat down,  telling you what he had been up to.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” he said through tears. “Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you.”

“And I chase it down with a shot of truth, that my feet don’t dance like they did with you.”

Management of Anger || Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: Steven and Marc send Jake to anger management therapy so he can work on his murderous behavior. However, the whole therapy goes horribly awry.

Rating: 🔞explicit

Warnings: smut, minors DNI!

Word count: 3333 😃

Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: orange italics - reader speaking Spanish, red italics - Jake speaking Spanish, blue italics - Marc speaking Spanish

Jake was fed up with it.

Marc and Steven kept bugging him about stupid anger management.

He didn't really need it, of course. His anger issues were nonexistent. Jake was fine, but those two were taking his actions too seriously, fucking pussies.

Yet here he was, sitting in a waiting room.

When another patient left the psychiatrist's office, a receptionist, who appeared to be a young girl, smiled at him. "Please come in, the doctor is awaiting, sir."

"Fucking finally. I was getting ready to leave," he growled, walking inside.

The receptionist frowned slightly but chose not to comment on the man's behavior.

The office was a large room with just a wooden desk, a massive leather chair, a chaise lounge, and an armchair.

You graduated two years ago and have recently opened your first office. You'd gained a lot of regular customers since then, but this man was someone new. "Please take a seat, sir," you said, nodding to the armchair.

Jake took a seat and looked around. The room wasn't anything special, but the thing that really got his attention was the pretty, cute doctor that was about to help him.

"I was expecting to see a kind of Hannibal Lecter-style doctor, but seeing you here makes it more worthwhile," he smirked.

You smiled at him and rose from your seat; after circling the desk, you approached the man and extended your hand to him. "My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm the psychiatrist who will assist you with your anger issues. Would you like to start by introducing yourself?"

He grabbed your palm gently. "I am Jake Lockley. At your service," Jake said softly before placing a kiss on top of your hand.

You gave him your sweetest smile; it was very charming of him to act like an old-school gentleman. "Jake, it's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me what brings you here," you returned to your previous location.

Jake was quiet for a moment. Telling you the truth could put him in more trouble. “I was forced to come here by two of my friends," he muttered, looking at you. "When I look at you, it wasn't such a crappy idea after all."

"I'll take it as a compliment," you said as you settled into your leather armchair, crossed your legs, and put on your glasses to look over his file. "That's a reasonable place, to begin with. It's critical to have others' support, and I'm sure your friends were just concerned about your behavior. Jake, how would you describe yourself and how do you feel right now?"

Jake laughed softly at the 'support' part. They weren't supporting him, they were forcing him to come here. "I would describe myself as incredibly handsome and now I feel horny as fuck if I can be honest."

He made you laugh; this was not what you expected to hear from your patient, but he was so cute in his boldness. "Uhm, Jake, thank you for your input, and I must say, you're a very handsome fella, but I was more interested in whether you're angry right now and how your life looks on a daily basis. What are you doing for a living?"

"I do... Stuff," he shrugged, "if not for those two idiots who support me, my life would be a fucking paradise. It pretty much depends on the order I get. Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I feel calm like a fucking río."

"Is it safe to say that your job causes you stress and negative emotions? What steps do you take to get rid of them?"

"I..." He shrugged. "Punch a few fuckers. It not only calms me down but also gets the job done. So double win."

You took some notes and returned your focus to him. "Good. Let's move on to something else. Do you have any interests, Jake?"

"Let's see, smoking, drinking, guns, knives, murder...." He looked up at you. "Documentaries."

You took more notes with your brow raised. "Thank you for your candor. Would you mind telling me where you got your interest in guns and knives? You can move around the office freely if you want; it helps most patients think."

Jake nodded and got up to walk around a bit, curious about what he would find there. "What if I do mind telling you that?"

"We can of course change the topic then. No pressure."

"¡Maravilloso! Let's change the subject to... You being so preciosa that I want to fuck you here and now," Jake said boldly, walking closer to your desk.

You cocked your brow slowly. "That's very kind of you, Jake, but we should concentrate on you, not me," you chuckled, trying not to blush at the man's words.

"It's difficult to focus on me when you are here, pretty one."

"Mr. Lockley," you got up from your desk, giving him a look. "I need to remind you that I'm a doctor and you're a patient."

“I think that's a very fitting scene, don't you think, Mrs. Y/L/N? Just you, a pretty, cute doctor, and me, a troubled thug. We could have fun, cariño," Jake muttered in a low tone, daring to wrap an arm around your waist.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips; the situation was spiraling out of control. What scared you the most was that you were tense at all times, which was not only unprofessional but also inappropriate.

"You are so stiff. You like this, huh?"

"Maybe..."

"Maybe yes or maybe a lot?" He whispered.

You cleared your throat to maintain composure. "Mr. Lockley, I think you're crossing the line," you said quietly, barely moving your lips. "I'd like to request that you return to your previous location."

"Oh, I will return to my previous location, with you on my lap," Jake responded.

You led him back to the armchair he had previously sat in. "Now, Mr. Lockley, let me remind you that this is a therapy session, not some type of get-together."

He grabbed your waist and pushed you onto his lap. "Well, it's an anger management thing. What if you help me with my anger?"

He took you by surprise - you fell onto his lap with a tiny whine. You tried not to move too much while he held you on his lap; the situation was spiraling out of control. You reached down to improve your black pencil skirt, which reached just above your thigh. "I'm glad to hear I can help you with your anger, but Jake, this isn't about to happen this way."

"¡Vaya! Me encanta cuando me llamas por mi nombre," Jake hummed happily, placing a hand on your leg to stroke it gently. "I'd like to hear you scream it and moan it."

This guy was having an effect on you; no matter how hard you tried to remain professional, his grip on your waist and his touch on your leg made it nearly impossible for you to think clearly. "Jake... Please, bring us back to the session. Anyone can enter at any time."

"Oh, you are too pretty to lie and you are terrible at it, cariño. My session is on, no one can walk in as they please. Not to mention your guarding bitch that will stop anyone who would get such an idea," he whispered and gently kissed your neck. "Hueles tan dulce ... sabrosa. I can feel that all the anger is fading out so quickly."

You moaned, instantly covering your mouth with your curled palm, blinking in disbelief at your own action, as you couldn't keep your cool any longer.

Chuckling lowly, he moved closer to your ear and whispered. "Apenas te toqué y cantas. musica para mis oidos.”

You slid off his lap and looked down at him, your cheeks flushed. You pulled your skirt up and straddled his lap, cupping his cheeks into your hands to kiss him because he knew how to keep you going.

He kissed you back and immediately picked you up, getting up from his seat. Still kissing you, he walked to your desk, pushed the stuff off of it, and then sat you down before pulling away. "This skirt is annoying me."

You hummed a bit at him. "It's a shame, for you have to deal with it in some way. I'm not taking it off."

Jake smiled and pulled out his pocket knife. "Let's make a sexy slit for that beautiful leg of yours." Before you could protest Jake cut the material of your skirt on the side. "Let's see what is hiding there."

When his gaze fell on the black, lacy underwear, you gasped and your cheeks flushed. "You know how much I paid for this skirt, Jake? Now, give me the knife."

"Not happening, little one," he shook his head, hiding the knife. "I bet you will rip me off enough to buy a brand-new skirt."

Your hand rested on his hips and slid down to his crotch, where you massaged the slight bulge you could already feel growing.

Jake purred at your touch. "You are a quick one. Don't ya want to stay professional anymore?"

His mocking of you grew tiresome. "Fuck off, Jake Lockley, and do what you've wanted since the moment you laid your eyes on me."

As Jake laughed loudly, he knelt between your legs. Humming, he shifted the panties aside and latched on your clit.

You rolled your head back and slipped your hand into his locks, muttering quietly fuck.

He licked the delicate bundle of nerves, biting it gently from time to time just to get a reaction out of you.

Observing his actions turned you into a moaning mess. "Keep going, Jake, don't stop," you said, putting your legs on his shoulders. Him biting on your clitoris was the most pleasurable torture. After a while, you realized how wet you had become. "Fuck me, fuck me, I need you to fuck my pussy."

Jake looked up at you. His fingers slipped into your hole. "Oh, really?” He asked, moving his finger slowly in and out. "Ask nicely."

"Fuck me," you whined quietly, taking your glasses off and putting them aside. "Fuck me. I know you want it too."

"I want you to keep these on," he said as he reattached the glasses. "Yeah, now I can fuck you. Looking so fucking sexy," Jack nodded, working on his belt.

You bit your lower lip as you watched him. "Do you mind if I assist you, Jake?"

"Go on. Be a smart girl and take care of it."

You instinctively reached for his belt and undid the metal buckle holding it in place, then opened his fly, looking him in the eyes with a mischievous grin.

Jake watched you as he played with your hair.

As you gently pushed him off the desk, you hopped up and kneeled in front of him, pulling his cock out and licking his shaft.

He pulled your hair into a ponytail and held it tightly in his hand as he commented, "I thought you wanted me to fuck you."

"I want that as well," you replied, smiling at him, then bent in and caressed his left testicle with your tongue before sucking the whole nugget inside your mouth. You moved your right hand up to the base of his cock. Your mouth let go of his cock as you released the gentle sucking pressure. Your mouth and tongue then traced a trail up his penis until you reached the head. You used your tongue to trace small circles in the triangular region just under the head of his cock until he was squirming. Then you placed the whole head in your mouth still stimulating the underside with your tongue. Then you took as much of his shaft into your mouth as you could. Your right hand firmly held the base shifting up and down with your mouth which provided a gentle sucking pressure.

Jake hummed loudly as he enjoyed your attention. While playing with your hair, he scanned the wall clock. "You are one naughty doctor, but you better hurry up. Time is running out and I don't want to pay extra."

With a loud pop sound, you pulled him out of your mouth and spat down on his cock's tip. "If you fuck me well, I'm not charging you for another visit." When he was close to coming and his ball sack had tightened up into the base of his penis, you pulled back up to the tip of his cock, toying with him again tracing tiny circles with the middle of your tongue. You weren't ready for him to come yet. You released him with your mouth and hands and slowly stood to kiss him, hopping on the desk again, spreading your legs a little. "Come on. What the fuck are you waiting for?"

"Look at you," Jake mused, moving between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing his cock into you. Without giving you even a moment to adjust he set a strong pace with deep thrusts. "Tan poco profesional. Traes vergüenza a toda tu profesión. Me encanta," Jake said with a smile.

"Y no te molestó ni un poco," you gasped, wrapping your arm around his neck, in an attempt to support yourself, yet his pace was too rough to bear, so you ended up laying down on the desk, your back arched.

"Buena niña, mi propia pequeña zorra," Lockley growled, undoing your shirt so he could get to your beautiful tits. Then he moved your bra up, and his hands grabbed one of your breasts, massaging it.

"I'll fucking cum!" You whined, trying to keep your voice low. As he started kneading your breast, you moaned for him, feeling your pussy clenching rhythmically around his dick buried deep inside you.

"Cum for me, little one," Jake said, gently pinching your nipples.

With a loud moan escaping your lips, you milked his cock, arching your back even more and wrapping your legs around him tightly, to drive him deeper.

He praised you and after a few more thrusts, he pulled out and then pulled you back onto your knees. "Such a pretty girl," Jake muttered, jerking himself off to soon cum all over your face.

With a loud gasp, you tried your best to catch all of his cum into your mouth. You wrapped your mouth around his shaft after he jerked himself off, just to suck him clean. Only then did you get up and wipe his semen off your cheek with the top of your hand. "That was something, Mr. Lockley. You're so fucking talented."

“Doc, you're not so bad yourself. I've never felt so calm in my fucked up life," Jake nodded and adjusted his pants. "I think I would like an appointment next week."

As you pulled your skirt down, adjusted your bra, and buttoned your shirt, you gave the man a nod. "If you'd like, Jake, you can set an appointment with my receptionist. She'll be more than happy to offer you a term. I literally can't wait to meet with you again, Mr. Lockley. Thank you for today. And homework for you - try to focus on breathing and thinking about something pleasant once you feel anger growing."

"Oh, I definitely will do that. Especially when I'll jerk off. I'll be breathing and thinking about something nice... Like my sexy doctor," he muttered, walking to the door.

Running the tip of your tongue along your lip, you nodded. Don't forget to leave me something for me, Mr. Lockley. Have a good afternoon. See you next week."

Once he stepped out of the office, the receptionist gave him a glance; the young lady heard some inappropriate things and she thought she should call the security but since her employer didn't ask her to, she let it be. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah. I would like to set an appointment for next week," he informed leaning against the desk casually, running his hand through his hair.

The girl cocked her brow and typed something on the computer. "Is Friday at 4 pm suitable for you, sir?"

"Sure it is,” Jake nodded. "Hey? Where is the bathroom?”

"On the left, at the end of that corridor," she pointed in the direction. "Do you need anything else, sir?"

Jake shook his head and then headed to the bathroom. He locked the door and smiled at the sight of two mirrors. It would make stuff easier. "So, I need to say. This whole anger management thing wasn't such a stupid idea after all," he concluded and started to wash his hands.

"You came there for the anger management, not the sexual management, Jake," Marc scolded him, appearing in one of the mirrors, arms folded against his chest.

Her thick, British accent continued, "You depraved that poor woman..." It was Steven, he was tugging on the sleeves of the shirt as he appeared in the second mirror.

Jake shrugged in response to them both. "Well, she wanted to fuck so I didn't 'deprave that poor woman' but I fucked the naughty doctor and it actually helped me with my anger so it's basically a double win situation."

"Oh, God. Marc, did you hear that? Tell him something. This is not what you do with women just because they want to do inappropriate things," Steven turned with his back to Jake.

Marc shook his head in disbelief. "Jake, really? I heard you set another appointment. Just please, no fucking next time."

"If you want to do those naughty things, you better ask her out, it's more appropriate that way," Steven added. "What if she gets pregnant? Oh God, you couldn't wear rubber, could you?"

Jake rolled his eyes annoyed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I finished on her face, this is not how stuff works, kid, but next time I will take some condoms. Thanks for reminding me about that, Steven. I will fuck her again and I ain't asking her out. Honestly, I already can't wait for another visit."

"Oh my God, Marc, do something with him, I'm going bonkers, I swear," Steven added.

"Jake, Jake, listen, it's anger management, right? We sent ya here so you can work on your murderous behavior, right? Not so you can just fuck your therapist, for Khonshu's sake," Marc shook his head in disbelief.

"Imbéciles, I will keep my murderous behaviors, but I am grateful for your help. For once the two of you actually became useful by finding me a pretty girl to let out some steam," Jake chuckled loudly. "Shall we go back home or will I keep standing here like an idiot and talk to myself?"

"It's time to learn how to treat women, and I'm addressing this not only to Jake but to you as well, Marc," Steven replied loudly. "He just fucks every woman he meets and breaks their hearts and limbs sometimes, and you almost dumped your sweet wife and vanished without a word for months. You both suck at maintaining a healthy relationship with girls," Steven added before vanishing.

Marc grimaced and blinked in disbelief. "What the hell was that?"

Jake listened and watched Steven with his eyebrows raised. Then he looked at Marc and shrugged. "Our frustrated, vegan, British virgin snapped? Or something like that, I don't really know. He is crazier than me sometimes."

"Don't be so harsh on him, he's... So much different than any of us. Okay, Jake, get your ass back home, we'll talk there. The last thing we need is to make any more inconvenience to the receptionist."

"Maybe she will join next time..." Jake hummed quietly, rubbing his chin.

"Lockley," Marc replied with a cold grimace. "Rápido, rápido."

"No me digas cómo vivir mi vida. Tu no eres mi madre," Jake said loudly before walking out of the bathroom to finally get back home.

Una experiencia inolvidable || Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

Summary: in response to your complaints about Jake not taking you out like your ‘friends' boyfriends, he arranges an unforgettable date for you

Warnings: smut, minors DNI! (oral - f & m receiving, unprotected sex, some manhandling)

Word count: 3670

Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: orange italics - Jake speaking Spanish

Jake was under stress. There had been too much happening recently and it was time to let go of everything that was sitting inside him. He decided it would be a wise idea to take care of two things at once. This was because you have complained for at least a week now about him not taking you out like your friends' boyfriends did. You'd stop bothering him and he'd feel better. Once Jake entered your apartment, he loudly announced, "We are going out, so better get ready, princesa."

A soft frown appeared on your surprised face as you put down the book you'd been reading. "Where are we going?"

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and said, "You'll see once we get there so move that pretty ass of yours or I'll go there alone or pick a random girl to go with me."

You rolled off the couch, a slight frown on your face. "That's not a joke. You know I despise it when you try to irritate me. Please allow me a few minutes to change."

"I was expecting you to be delighted that I finally took you on a date like all your friends' boyfriends do."

You almost jumped in your place. "So it's a date, huh? I'm overjoyed now, but I still despise you for being such a teasing fucker, Jake, jumping on with all those I can go out and take a random girl nonsense, do you understand? Wait here."

As Jake waited at you, he rested his back against the wall.

You returned dressed in jeans shorts, and a fitted t-shirt. "Ready," you said as you extended your hand to him.

He grabbed your hand and immediately kissed it, pulling you closer. "You got ready faster than usual, maybe I should use the word date more often as a motivator."

You kissed his cheek briefly before pulling him behind you. "Come on, baby! I'm looking forward to seeing where you'll take me this time. Our last date was almost a month ago. I enjoy it when you surprise me."

"Eventually, you will stop whining and telling me where Alex took Jessica last week," Jake commented with a shrug.

As you walked down the street, you gently poked his side before wrapping your arm around his waist. "Come on, he takes such good care of her, demonstrating how much he cares for her."

"I am still here. This should be the most fitting manifestation of my love for you," Lockley muttered, pulling your head closer to place a kiss on your temple.

You were taken to a bar by Jake. There was more to the bar than just drinking; a pool table and dart board were the first things that caught the eye of anyone who walked through the front door. "¿Qué piensas?"

"Me gusta, este lugar," you replied softly, taking a look around, still holding Jake's hand. "I'll order something. Do you drink as usual?"

"Yeah, the usual. Go place the order. I will go get the pool table before someone gets there. It's time to teach you how to play," he concluded, patting your ass with his calloused hand.

With a brief kiss placed on his cheek, you nodded and proceeded to order two drinks - vodka with juice for you and whiskey with ice for him.

Jake waited for you at the pool table. He smiled, seeing you joining him. "So, ready to play? I can't wait to kick your cute, round butt."

"I've never played before, so you'll have to tell me the rules," you said as you handed him a glass of whiskey. "In fact, I can't wait to see you play."

Jake raised an eyebrow as he picked up the billiard cue. Then you lied to me. Once I asked you about it, you said you had played before."

"Ok, you got me, I lied. I held a cue and even hit a billiard ball but that was all."

"Grab the cue and I will show you everything."

You picked one and stood next to him, awaiting instructions. Your cheek was kissed by Jake as he began his little lesson with you.

In addition to explaining the rules of the most simple game to you, he also told you everything else you needed to know about the equipment and the game in general.

During Jake's demonstration of how to properly play, he touched or kissed you just a little bit; he just couldn't stop himself. Jake decided to be a good boyfriend for once and let you win your first actual game. "Go on, aim for 8, get it in the hole and you're done."

"Oh my God," you lamented. It's ridiculous that these tables are so high! If I knew, I'd wear high heels!" You smiled at Jake as you settled into the most comfortable position, practically laying your chest on the top of the table with one leg yanked over the edge. You took aim and struck the right ball, sending it straight into the hole. "Did you notice that, baby? I finished it!"

"Yeah! ¡Tú ganas! Estoy tan orgullosa, mi niña inteligente," he praised eagerly with a nod. ”Now, come here, you will get something for that win."

Jumping like a bunny, you picked up your glass to empty it. "I did it! I did it! You're the coolest teacher, baby!"

"Nah, you are just a really intelligent student," the man chuckled, grabbing your chin to pull you into a kiss which was your well-deserved reward.

You wrapped arms around his strong neck, kissing him lightly. Jake tasted like the whiskey he drank while watching you play, but you didn't mind. "I love you, you're the best boyfriend."

"You are the cutest girlfriend, cariño," after kissing your nose, he gently spanked your ass. "One more drink and game?"

You blushed when he spanked your ass but nodded eagerly. "Yes, please. I'll place the order."

"I'll set the table. Be aware, little one! I won't take you easy this time," Jake warned.

The game ended in a very unexpected way - Jake won easily with you. A smug smile spread across his face as he emptied his glass. ”Te lo advertí, cariño. Now I deserved a prize."

With a sad whimper, you nodded your head. "What would you like to get, love?"

"Sólo un beso va a estar bien," he said, wrapping arm around your waist.

With a grin spreading over your lips, you wrapped your hands around his neck, climbed on your tiptoes, and crushed your lips on his rough ones, almost moaning at his taste.

"Keep those sounds for later," Jake teasingly nuzzled his nose against yours. Would you like to try darts? Does the thought of me kicking your pretty butt again make you nervous?”

"We can bet I will win. I am a pro at darts!"

"Oh, really? We will see. Go start then. I really want to see that."

As you jumped to the dartboard and picked a few darts, you took aim and fired, getting almost a bullseye.

Nodding at your successful first attempt, Jake watched with arms crossed over his chest.

He could easily win, after all, he was skilled at throwing knives and other things, but Jake was a good boyfriend as well, so he let you win at least for tonight.

You were as happy as a child given candy by their parents. Becoming snuggly was your way of manifesting happiness.

Any hug you wanted to give Jake, he gladly accepted. As he smiled cockily, he requested another round, which he lost as well.

After the game, you sat with him at the table, drinking yet another drink. "It was a perfect night."

Would you mind stopping pestering me with stories about your friends and their guys?"

"Take me out more often, and I'll do my best to follow your request."

I guess it's a fair deal," Jake sighed deeply before kissing you passionately.

When Jake kissed you, you felt a chill run down your spine. "Are you angry?"

"It is true, I am, a tad."

"Let's go shopping to get some snacks and alcohol at the store. If you want to get home, I'll follow your every step," you told him eagerly, a mischievous grin dancing on your lips as you knew what he had in mind, basing on his darkening eyes.

Jake nodded his head, picked you up, and spanked you not so gently. Squeezing your ass cheek, he chuckled, "Now it's time for my part of the date."

As soon as the front door of your flat was closed behind the two of you, Jake promised, "I'll make you feel good tonight, baby." He wrapped his strong arms around you from behind, pressing your back to his chest.

You could feel his mound growing larger and larger. You wished to open his trousers and see what lay beneath, on the spot. A pretty moan escaped the man's lips as he threw his head back. 

You bit back a cry as Jake rutted his hips, a smirk spreading across his lips as you burned bright with embarrassment. It seemed that his flirting attempts were working. The redness spread down your ears, neck, and shoulders. 

"Cheeky," Jake cooed as he pulled your jeans shorts off as well as your panties, running curious hands down your pale legs and marveling at how pretty and small they looked against his slightly tanned, big palm. "You're so pretty, baby. So so beautiful. This is all for me. They're mine for tonight."

Jake picked you up easily and walked to the couch with you in his arms. Only then did he set you down and laid down, with you straddling him flippantly. He grabbed your waist, pulling you upwards as he said, "Fuck my face, baby. Come up here, I want to taste you first."

A thrill ran down your spine as you inched forward, passing his waist, up to his well-built torso, and hesitated slightly when you hovered above his neck. Jake's hands guided you, his fingers grabbing your hips tightly. Looking down at your boyfriend, you nibbled your lip ring in worry and awkwardness. In the end, you nodded as you lifted your hips and slowly lowered yourself to Jake's mouth, where he caught you whole. As you let out a sigh of delight, your body shivered, and your eyes closed as you surrendered to pleasure without reservation. As Jake squeezed your ass once again, he made himself comfortable by hooking his arms over your wide hips.

As you relaxed, Jake could feel your thighs slacken, making it easier to reach your pussy. He let his tongue drag across, from one end to the other, listening to your quivers, sighs and moans attentively. He let himself explore, taking his sweet time as his tongue licked, prodded, and swirled against the sensitive flesh of yours.

As Jake flicked his tongue against your clit, you gasped and made a mumble as you ground your hips, letting Jake taste everything. "Your tongue feels so delicious," you said, rocking your hips slowly again while gasping. You wanted him to remember your scent.

"You're doing just fine, daddy," you whispered. "Let your tongue go a tad to the left there, just like that."

Listening to your instructions made Jake feel intrigued. As he focused on you, he gripped your waist, trying to hear the lewdest sounds you could make. Every breath, every shiver, and every sound you made was tailored to his movements, and Jake let you take charge.

In response to the alcohol and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you adjusted your legs and raised your torso in order to get a better angle for resting your hands on Jake's chest. As you rutted and rolled your hips more, Jake helped you prop yourself up and a lewd moan rippled out of your lips. "Oh God, daddy!" You whined loudly, rolling your head back.

Your every thrust was met with Jake's tongue thrusting in, matching every movement, as he watched in fascination. It was so beautiful to see you above him. You shifted your position once again, this time hunched forward, thrusting into his mouth at a brutal pace as you quickened the pace. "Yes, yes!" You groaned and shivered. "So fucking good!"

Obviously, by this point, you were purely motivated by pleasure, and you didn't care what happened after this. You didn't care how you looked or how you sounded. There was a white-hot burning sensation filling up your navel, and you just wanted to chase it, chase the high you were feeling right now.

Grabby hands squeezed and slapped your ass hard, but you didn't mind - you enjoyed every minute of it. "Jake," you moaned. The white-hot pressure was begging to be released. It felt so good, you were about to combust. "Oh, Jake!!!" You heard a muffled reply, so you claimed within a shallow tone, "Jake, I wanna cum."

A broad-shouldered man loomed over you with an evil glint in his eye before you could comprehend. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before," he warned. When your legs were thrown open, the white-hot pressure against your navel tightened. "And you're gonna take all of me,” Jake said, undoing his trausers and pushing them down along with his fitted, black boxer shorts.

When you slipped your glance down his body and saw the size and girth of his delicious dick, you gasped loudly, slowly licking your lower lip; oh, how you lowed this sight!

As he angled his dick to you, you felt your breath catch in your throat as he pulled you down to him. Your wetness allowed his dick to enter you with ease, and fill you up whole making you moan.

You let out a soft groan, closing your eyes as you sank onto the couch cushion, slipping hands down your body to lift your t-shirt along with a bra, to gain access to your round breasts to give them a soothing massage.

Jake watched you like a hawk. He could feel you twitching; your soft insides were clenching and unclenching, it was enough to drive him over the edge. It was the right time to drive you crazy. His grasp on your hips tightened to the point you could be sure he would leave some bruises on your pale skin.

"You're such a naughty girl tonight," Jake crooned as he pulled out, watching you gasping while thrusting back into you hard; every single movement was made with a watchful eye. "There was no doubt in my mind that you could handle me completely, Y/N."

Throughout your entire being, you felt his dick buried deep within you. You felt so full, so sated and you still craved more. “I need more…”

Jake grinned as his dick twitched at your command. Grinning, he cupped your breasts, squeezing them and rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and index fingers. 

As you squirmed underneath his grip, he started moving his hips a little. Both movements were synchronized.

He grinned again as he obliged your request. He grabbed your legs, and picked them up, placing them on his strong shoulders. "Hold your legs open for me, darling," he ordered.

You moaned incoherently as Jake started to buck his hips into yours. His dick moved in and out of you so smoothly. Your pussy accepted his girth so easily, and you marveled at how adorable his dick looked coated in your wetness. You watched as his thumb was brought to your pussy and started rubbing your clit viciously.

"Harder!" You begged in a weak voice.

He thrust into you even harder, the sound of his balls slapping onto your ass was loud as fuck, and your cries were escalating louder and louder; your begging was starting to turn into mewls and mumbles so he knew you were in the right place. One of your hands slid in-between your thighs to stimulate your clit, your breathing getting higher and higher in pitch.

"Tienes coñito prieto,” Jake grunted deeply. “Eres una puta, Y/N.”

“Jake! I’m gonna fucking cum!” You whined loudly, a deep gasp followed.

"Are you gonna cum for me, Y/N?"

"Yes!”

Jake pulled out, grabbed you, and turned you around, pulling your ass up so he could fuck you doggy style. You were a spluttering mess as he thrust into you without warning, your hands grabbing hold of the armrest of the couch as you were fucked by a damn good dick.

“Fuck, Jake!” You moaned loudly, slipping one of your hands in-between your thighs once again to rub your clitoris.

As Lockley let his dick satisfy you, getting deeper and deeper with every heinous thrust, he grabbed your silky hair with one hand and your throat with the other so you were half-bent, hovering above the couch. He licked your ear and bit into the earlobe gently. "Ahora eres toda mía. Say it, princesa."

“I’m yours, Jake!”

As he fastened his pace, he laughed at your words and tightened his grip on your throat.

Jake was fueled by your cries, knowing that you were riding your pleasure. Continuing his fast pace, he watched your body tremble and twitch with each passing wave before slowing down and pulling out completely, letting you drop back onto the couch. His dick was rock hard and twitching, but he was elated that you had your orgasm. 

Panting from the orgasm, you perked up suddenly, your eyes flitting across his body until they settled on the still rock-hard dick. You licked your lips and swallowed the saliva. 

Your eagerness led you to sit down and make yourself comfortable on the couch. As you approached his dick, you ran a wet tongue along the shaft, earning a gasp from Lockley. Salty pre-cum tasted on your tongue as you moaned and bobbed your head, letting your tongue and jaw do all the work. Playing with his balls, you let your tongue run across the tip, sucking and gently biting the sensitive area before you went down on him again, filling his hard dick with the warmness of your mouth.

"Oh my god baby, your tongue feels so good," he groaned, slipping his hands in your hair.

Again, Jake groaned at you, and you smiled, glad that you could make him feel better. Sucking and swirling your tongue at the same time, you increased the pace. His hands were again reaching down to your head, and he grabbed your hair tighter than before, guiding you as he thrust into your mouth.

"You can take me, baby," he said softly as he thrust deeper and deeper.

You could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your throat relaxed as you met his dark, brown eyes - allowing you to meet every deep thrust with ease. 

"You're doing good, eres buena chica esta noche, princesa."

Jake held your throat with one hand and the back of your neck with another and thrust deep, feeling his dick fill your throat. He stayed there for a few seconds, reveling in that feeling and pulled out as you started choking for breath. 

Jake laughed as he flopped onto the couch. "Ride me, baby," he said as he gestured for you to come on top of him. "Show me how good you are."

Grinning and not one to turn down a request, you climbed up on top of him, making your way towards his dick with a hand guiding you. As his dick filled you again, you closed your eyes and adjusted your legs before you began moving again, quickly taking your t-shirt and bra off, throwing them aside.

Putting your hands on his chest, you began to lift your hips, setting a rhythm you could follow as the squelches and moans filled the room. Jake simply let you do whatever you wanted now that you were in full control.

As you pecked his lips, your groans filled his ear as you trembled with pleasure. He gasped as you sucked his skin and swirled your tongue around before biting his throat. Not that he doesn't like it either, but you were getting feisty.

Keeping up with your movements, Jake held your hips as you shared a hot kiss, tongues battling for dominance before Jake took control, quickening the already fast pace. Throwing your head back, holding your breasts as you matched his thrusts, rolling your hips as he fucked you hard, you let out a cry.

As Jake pushed you onto the couch, deep inside you, he whispered, "¡Quiero hacer yo que te corras!"

Jake slammed into you once again when your legs wrapped around him. As gibberish escaped your pearly lips, you let out a cry, arching your back. He squeezed and kneaded your boobs as he fucked you. His thumbs flicked at your nipples, as his hips did God's work; his dick was pulsating in you and he never felt more alive and in the moment. As you met each thrust with a sheen of sweat, your skin shimmered in the dim light.

As you kept whining, your eyes rolled back, and your hips ground against his dick, Lockley grinned wryly. Watching you closely as you let out a cry, his hips stuttered and he milked your pussy with thick ropes of his warm cum as you convulsed. "Fuck you, princesa," Jake whispered, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck. “Te quiero, Y/N.”

You slipped your hand in his thick locks, gently scratching his scalp while kissing his temple. “I love you too, Jake. You’re the best to me. Thank you for making me feel alive again.”

“Siempre para servirle, mi amor,” Jake replied softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands to steal yet another kiss from you. “But if you complain about me as your boyfriend, I swear I won't be nice to you anymore.”

You chuckled softly, knowing well Lockley wasn’t joking. With a nod, you kissed his cheek. “I promise.”

At the Campsite || Marc Spector x fem!Reader

Summary: your new, fitted shorts have Marc going wild while on camping with you

Warnings: smut without plot 🔞

Word count: 846

Author: Rouge

You've yearned for it and craved it. And you couldn't have been happier when Marc agreed to go camping with you. Preparation took a few days because you needed to buy a new tent and sleeping bags, as well as some other items and food to bring with you.

Marc would do anything for you, even if he wasn't thrilled with the idea at first.

You chose a campground with a variety of cycling and hiking trails.

When the two of you arrived at the location, you began erecting the tent. You couldn't shake the feeling Marc was constantly scrutinizing you, and you began to wonder if it was because of the new shorts you bought for the trip. "Marc, could you help me with these steel profiles?"

"Sure," Marc replied, eager to assist you with the tent. Even though he didn't like the sudden idea of camping in the middle of nowhere, he couldn't say no to you. "Should you go take care of the fire? This is something you can handle, baby."

Your reply was a quick nod. "That's a good thought."

It took you a long time to collect some brambles for tinder. After gathering some large stones, you excavated a small pit and circled it with stones to protect the grass from catching fire.

"Well, well, look at you, I'm beginning to think you're a pro camper," when you got back to your feet, Marc ruffled your hair.

You simply smiled at him and went to look for marshmallows in your backpack. "Do you want to eat?"

Marc's gaze never left you, especially your stick out ass when you leaned against your backpack. "I like your new shorts," he said lightheartedly.

You quickly turned your head to face him. "Do you? They're just material shorts."

"Which hug your ass so nicely," Marc got closer and placed his large palm on your buttock, squeezing it.

You let out a loud gasp as you stopped looking for the items in your backpack and turned fully to wrap your arms around his strong neck.

Marc yanked one of his hands under your ass and easily picked you up in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to keep yourself from falling. "Did my shorts just turn you on?" You inquired teasingly.

"Mhm," was the only response he could muster.

Soon after, you two found each other in the tent; you laying down on the sleeping bag, Marc hovering over you, kissing your neck, his hands slipping under your t-shirt. When one of his hands reached into your shorts, he discovered you didn't wear underwear. Marc cracked a grin. "Aren't you being a naughty girl today?"

You nodded, rolling your hips at the sensation of his thick fingers rubbing against your clitoris. "You know I like to be a bad girl every now and then."

Marc didn't waste any time and quickly removed your t-shirt, followed by your shorts.

With a loud grunt, you reached for his belt and unfastened it with your skilled fingers.

Marc assisted you by pushing his jeans down his legs along with his boxer shorts while you wrestled his shirt off of him.

Marc yanked one of your legs around his hip, lining his cock with your entrance, pushing into you with ease because you were dripping wet at the time.

Your head rolled back as you muttered a quiet fuck.

Marc thrusted into you in slow but powerful thrusts, making sure to bury his entire shaft in your core every time. With time, his groans turned into moans.

As you gazed into his beautiful, brown eyes, you wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his right bicep. "Marc... Just like that, love."

He leaned in to kiss your lips, the kiss sloppy and messy as he moaned loudly into your lips.

You snatched a handful of his thick hair as he quickened his pace, sliding in and out of you faster than ever before.

"I love you," he said quietly, the first drops of sweat forming on his forehead. "So warm and wet for me."

You wrapped your other leg around his hip, allowing him to penetrate you even further than before. It was met with his grunt of endorsement.

You soon felt your walls spasming around his throbbing cock, tightly hugging it. You moaned his name and proceeded to milk his member with your warm, thick release.

Marc lasted for a few more seconds before backing himself out of your pussy. He jerked himself a few times before cumming on your belly with a deep grunt, his head rolled back. Soon, Marc rested his forehead against yours, and you cupped his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing against his light stubble as you both panted heavily, coming off the peak.

"I love you," you whispered.

He chuckled deeply, kissing the base of your nose. "I love you too, Y/N."

"I think I should wear shorts more often, if they make you go that wild," you joked, licking your lower lip.

The Loyal Priestess || Khonshu x fem!reader

Summary: as a newly appointed priestess in Khonshu's temple, you hold a great deal of responsibility. On one night, the God of the Moon decides to visit his followers in response to their profound prayers 

Warnings: smut (deflowering)🔞 & the body of Marc is being taken over and fronted by Khonshu 

Word count: 3575

Author: Cass & Rouge

A/N: the green sentences refer to Khonshu's speaking

It's an ancient ritual performed mostly by high priestesses because it was a skill that took a lot of practice, but you knew exactly what to do and weren't afraid of doing something wrong. Being a newly marked priestess in Khonshu's temple demanded a great deal of self-assurance, skill, and interior renunciation.

You had the honor of leading the opening prayer to the god himself that evening. "Our Lord, hear us out," you began, head bowed and hands pressed together in front of a massive stone figure depicting Khonshu standing proudly with his staff in his left hand. "We have gathered here to seek your protection, our Lord, and your enlightenment."

Marc could feel cold, unpleasant creeps running down his spine, causing him to shake and hiss visibly. "What the hell was that?" He exclaimed, perplexed as never before.

Of course, Khonshu was there with him, unconcerned by Marc's remark. "My followers are praying to me."

"Followers? Praying? To you? Do you still have them?" Marc inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do, worm! Who do you think I am?" snarled Khonshu.

"Excellent. I was simply inquiring. There's no need to be so aggressive," Marc sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just hope they're over soon. I don't like the way it feels," the man muttered, uncomfortably rolling his shoulders.

"They will as soon as I acknowledge their presence."

Marc didn't have time to react before the robes encircled him and he swooped up into the night sky, going to the source of chanting. He didn't like what he saw when he landed. This was the temple. The one where he lost his normal life and self.

Candles and incense filled the room with a soft glow and the scent of olive and lilac. Few wicked baskets filled with things like fruits, dates and furs were placed on the stone altar.

Khonshu's followers in the chamber were humming an old melody that matched the words of your fervent prayer. "Our Lord, Master of the Night Sky, please listen to us. Send us your light and wisdom, keep us safe from evildoers. We're offering our modest sacrifices for you, our Lord."

"Modest sacrifices? That sounds intriguing, I'm curious what those are," a loud voice could be heard echoing off the walls. Khonshu entered the chamber in Marc's body, overtaken by the god; Marc's eyes glistened with white light.

All of the followers knelt and bowed their heads to the person who entered the chamber.

You were the only one who raised your head slightly to look the creature in the eyes; eyes gleaming with light that highlighted the god's nature. In the process, you bowed your head and knelt on the sand as well. "My Lord, we are honored that you have chosen to illuminate us with your presence tonight. Long live, Khonshu!"

The greeting was loudly chanted by the rest of the followers.

"Finally, someone who understands how to respect me," Khonshu hummed proudly, smiling at everyone. "However, I think I should punish you all."

Chanting ended as soon as it started; the silence filled the chamber.

You dared to raise your head up, looking at the man with glistening eyes. "Did we do anything wrong, my Lord? If yes, please, say a word and we'll do our best to fix the error."

Khonshu chuckled deeply as he approached you. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "You want to know what your blunder is? Where have you been all these centuries? I can hear every prayer, and it has been quiet for many years."

A cold shiver jolted your body to its core, and you began to wonder if calling Khonsh was a good idea. "My Lord," you said as you looked into his glistening eyes, "We'd been praying to you all the time, on a regular basis. We'd never forgotten you or your deeds, my Lord, and we'd always admired your wisdom."

He squeezed your chin between his fingers. "Human, don't lie to me!" He yelled. "I couldn't hear any of you praying for years! You've dared to arrive at my temple and now you're selling me a lie!"

"My Lord," you said quietly, trying not to aggravate the deity, "How could I lie to you in your temple? I would never do so. Some of your older priestesses have passed away, they were old and died of old age or were killed in the civil war going on," you elaborated. "My Lord, I and those gathered here tonight are from a new generation. Perhaps our prayers were not loud enough for you to hear."

"Maybe they weren't. You will all try to do better from now on," Khonshu demanded. "What about the offerings? I'm interested in what mortals like you brought me."

You waited for him to let go of your chin, and when he did, you went to the altar and pointed to the wicked baskets. "We don't have much to offer you, my Lord, but we'd like to give you our best. Our crops provide the fruits and dates, and our animals provide the furs. We also have the best wine in Egypt, fresh olives, and gold, all for you, our Lord Khonshu."

"That's all?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Some poor fruits and old wine?”

You bowed your head and knelt again. "This is all we have, my Lord. As I said, we can't offer you much more than our faith in you."

"And what do you think I'm going to do with it?" Khonshu inquired, looking at you. "I am the god! Not some pitiful, mortal being like you all or that meat puppet I had to use to see you. I'm not interested in wine or food."

You bowed your head even more, being afraid to look at the god. "Forgive us, my Lord. Please, have mercy!"

"You dare to refer to yourself as my follower? My old priestess, they were the ones who always knew what to offer!" Khonshu yelled angrily, his voice echoing off the walls.

A single tear rolled down your cheek; you were truly terrified with the god being angry with you. "Forgive me, my Lord. What can I do to fix this?"

He gave you a low chuckle as he looked at you. You were a lovely, little thing as for a priestess. He could make good use of his ability to gain complete control over Marc. "I'll tell you what I want as a gift, and you'll grant it to me."

"Of course, my Lord, I'm here to fulfill all of your wishes."

"Clean the altar," Khonshu ordered, waving his hand.

As he wished, you took all the baskets off the altar.

Khonshu turned to face the others. "Tonight, you all let me down. I have nothing else to say to you, worms, no blessings or encouraging words. Leave. Everyone except you," his gaze fixed on you again.

His strong voice echoing off the stone walls made you shiver once more as you watched your fellow citizens get up and leave with bowed heads.

You dared to look at God after everyone else had left the chamber except you. "Your wish, my Lord, is my command."

Khonshu was overjoyed. Finally, someone was listening to him and acting in accordance with his wishes. "I want you as an offering."

You tilted your head and blinked few times. "Excuse me, my Lord? You want me? In what meaning?"

"You good know. You seem like a smart girl."

Your brow furrowed. "Oh, Lord... I think I know what you're thinking about, but I can't give you what you want because I've never done those things before, and I don't want to disappoint you. We have a lot of lovely ladies, just say the word and I'll bring one over."

"I want no one else but you," Khonshu said, gently taking a lock of your hair between his fingers. "You are young and attractive."

"My Lord," you whispered and closed your eyes at the touch of his warm, calloused hand. "I see. Your wish is my command, but I'm scared of letting you down."

"You'll do fantastic, I'm confident you will, little priestess," Khonshu gave you his assurance. "Now. Remove those robes."

You nodded and began taking off your clothes. You began by slipping the sleeves of your long, beige gown, revealing your bare chest and round breasts. Second, you pushed the silky material of the dress down your body, allowing it to fall to your ankles. You stood fully naked in front of the god in human form with hesitation.

One of his hands boldly cupped your breast. "So soft and pleasant," he claimed as his thumb rubbed your nipple, which hardened within the seconds. "My precious, little priestess. Little, innocent thing, you belong to me."

You gasped quietly when his calloused palm cupped your breast, squeezing it. You looked up at the man with your eyes wide open, sighing. "Whatever you order, my Lord. I'm yours."

Khonshu nodded before grabbing one of the furs brought as an offering and tossing it over the stone altar. "Lay down."

You climbed the altar and did as he asked - you laid on your back, rubbing your thighs together, attempting to cover your breasts with your arms crossed lightly across your chest. As you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes, your Y/H/C hair spilled over the fur.

Khonshu smiled and gently kissed your lips before moving the kisses to your neck and then collarbone.

"My Lord," you whispered lightly, your head rolled back a little, providing him with better access. "Can I touch you?"

"You can," he whispered into your ear.

You gasped quietly and put your hands to his arms, your heart beated faster when you sensed his tensed muscles under the shirt he was wearing. Soon, you moved one of your arms around his neck and begged him for another kiss.

"Little priestess, you're so needy. Your desires will be granted tonight," Khonshu hummed and gladly pressed his lips against your cheek, cupping one of your cheeks.

You shifted in his arms, giving the kiss back, letting your tongue slip past his lips, tasting him and imagining all of the things he was about to do to you.

Soon after, he drew back and began undressing himself before joining you on the altar.

You watched his perfectly shaped body, wondering if the man he picked for his avatar was someone random. If yes, Khonshu had a very good taste.

"Do you like what you're seeing, little one? I wouldn't choose a random mortal as my avatar," Khonshu reassured you, just as he would be able to hear your thoughts, and kissed your neck again, this time moving down to your chest and wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples.

You grabbed by the edge of the altar and arched your back a little, moaning at the feeling. With a little, hesitant smile, you nodded your head. "Yes, my Master, I like everything I see," your tone was nothing more than a whisper. "My Lord Khonshu, please."

"Please what? Use your words."

"I want you to..." Your voice cracked as you blushed hardly; realization hit your mind clouded already with overwhelming pleasure. "I want you."

"So now you want me? I was sure you're terrified of this. You're not anymore?" He hummed as he moved his hand down your body.

"I've never been so scared in my life, my Lord, but I trust in you, I trust in everything you do," you assured Khonshu, your cheeks flushed.

Khonshu moved between your legs with a low laugh. He picked your legs up and set them on his shoulders, then began to place kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs.

You moaned quietly, arching your back slightly and sucking your lower lip in. You initially felt compelled to run your hands through his hair, but quickly dismissed the thought as too daring. His lips on your thighs felt like a blazing fire, and you couldn't stop being vocal about how good he made you feel. "Please, My Lord, I need to feel you," you pleaded quietly.

He decided to grant your wish and gently sucked his lips around your clit, observing your reaction carefully.

Your back arched even more as a loud moan escaped your lips. Your hands slid down instinctively to meet his palms on your hips; you placed your hands on top of his rough ones. "I've never felt anything like it..."

His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing your hand. Khonshu didn't respond to your words, but he continued to eat you like a starving man.

Your moans became louder; you barely could bear the tight knot forming in your abdomen. "Khonshu, my Lord, please, I want more!" You begged, holding stronger onto his palms.

"Is that so, my little priestess? And what do you want?"

You bit your lip. "I want to do this, but I've never... You'll have to guide me, my Lord."

"Do what? Use your words or I won't please you," Khonshu continued the teasing.

You propped yourself on elbows and looked at him; he looked perfectly sweet with his head between your thighs. "I want you to take me, my Lord."

He got off the altar and began to completely undress himself, tossing the pants and Marc's boxers to the side. Then he returned to you and wrapped your legs around his waist tightly.

Of course, you watched him with your heart beating fast and strong within your chest, like a tiny animal trapped in a cage trying to escape danger. When he removed his boxer shorts, his already rock-hard cock sprung free and stood proudly against his abdomen, making you blush and gasp. You did just what he expected you to do. With a moan, you pulled him into a kiss. "My Lord..." You whispered. "I'm all yours."

"Of course you are. You're my sweet, little priestess," Khonshu agreed, gently pushing inside of you so as not to injure you too much with his force.

You rolled your eyes back and let out a quiet scream mixed with a moan, your eyes close shut and you hissed at the sudden feeling of being stretched out painfully. "Ah!"

Khonshu smiled wryly as he observed your body's reaction to him. Your little whimpers and arched back were adorable. He'll definitely miss it once Marc is back in charge.

You wrapped your palm around one of his hands placed by either of your sides, then looked up at him, right into his eyes. "It.... hurts and stings..."

His palm moved over your belly and lover. "Hush. Just breathe, relax."

You followed God's instructions and went a little quiet. It didn't last long though - the pleasure and knot developing in your abdomen were impossible to ignore, igniting the lust in your soul. Your palm squeezed his hand, and other one wrapped around his neck as he kept on thrusting into you. Soon, you were moaning for him like all those whores you've heard about from your friends visiting public houses.

"You're a good girl. My dear priestess. You will be the only person to ever experience this," Khonshu murmured as he began to move his hips carefully while still stroking your belly with his calloused palm.

You looked at his face; the man whose body the god was using was dangerously handsome, with dark, brown eyes and fluffy, dark hair. "Kiss me," you whispered.

He couldn't say no to you, so he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans as he quickened his pace.

With a loud moan and overwhelming dizziness, you rolled head back when the kiss broke and let him fuck you the way he wanted. You wrapped your legs around his waist to guide him deeper into your dripping cunt.

He continued to fuck you hard and deep, kissing you on the neck. "My tiny priestess. You're taking good care of your god."

Holding tightly onto his neck, you moaned loudly. "Can we, ah! Try some else? I want to be on top."

Khonshu chuckled proudly before flipping you both over so you were on top of him. His hands were pressed against your hips, squeezing the tender flesh.

You began rolling your hips, smacking them back and forth, resting both hands against his broad chest, quietly moaning whenever his cock hit the right spot within you. "It feels divine, so good."

"Good. Excellent work. Please me, little priestess," Khonshu praised you, moving his body slightly to match your movements.

You increased your movements, moaning louder and louder. After leaning forward, you placed your palm to one of his cheeks and kissed him deeply, your tongues dancing together in a slow, passionate dance. "I feel so full, it's unbelievable."

"This is insignificant. I will continue to fill you up, little human. You'll be so full of me that you'll never forget how it feels," Khonshu assuredly moved his hand to your clitoral region. He began to play with your bundle of nerves, watching your reaction.

Your curses filled the chamber; your head rolled back and your pace quickened. His clit teasing didn't help at all, it only heightened the sensation. With a loud scream, the knot in your abdomen ruptured, and incredible wetness floated down, coating his member still buried within your tight cunt. "Oh, fuck!"

Khonshu continued to praise you while thrusting into you in order to quickly fill your nice, tight cunt with his hot load. He used all of his strength to flip the two of you again, to pick up the pace even more, chasing his own release; he hadn't felt so needy and desperate in centuries. When your pussy was still clenching around his shaft rhythmically, his cock throbbed painfully, triggering his orgasm, and he spilled all of his warm seed deep into you with nothing but a curse rolling off his parted lips. ”Fuck. Fantastic. My precious, little priestess. You made your god happy."

You tried to raise your body to kiss him once again. The wetness in you was unbearable and you didn't really want to move to not get rid of the pleasant feeling of warmth and thickness.

While returning the kiss, he almost purred into it. His arm wrapped around your waist with a soft hum, his hand gently tucking some of your hair behind your ear, and he grabbed your chin to take one more good look at you. "You're a lovely, little thing. Even though it was your first time, you did not let me down."

"Did I do well, my Lord?" You asked in a soft tone, putting your head to his chest; his cock still buried in you. "You've made me the happiest person alive, my Lord. I'm grateful and I will never forget it. Can I just have one question?"

"What is it, my beautiful?”

"Can you take me with you? I will give my life to serve you in the afterlife."

"This isn't going to happen," he said simply, playing with your hair. "There are some things I need to take care of myself. Besides, I require the presence of my priestess here."

"My Lord, will I ever see you again then? Or was I daydreaming?"

"If you serve me well, priestess, I will visit you again, and you weren't daydreaming, I assure," Khonshu said as he kissed your cheek. "You are mine now."

"I've been yours since the day I was born, my Lord," you shivered, grumping quietly at the emptiness as he pulled his dick out. As quickly as possible, you put your robes on, gaze lowered to not bother Khonshu.

Khonshu slowly sat up and began gathering his belongings in preparation for dressing up. "Are there any more requests, little one?"

"How could I request anything from you, my Lord? Your wisdom and presence is the best thing that happened to me, my Lord Khonshu. I, your faithful priestess, will preach your word even harder."

"And this shall grant you my visit again," Khonshu's laughter spilled all over the chamber.

Marc awoke in his bed, perplexed as he had never been before. He was uneasy and felt bad in general.

He remembered going to see Khonshu's followers, but there was a gap in his memory. "Khonshu! What the fuck?! How come I can't remember anything!"

The god appeared, sitting on the bed, holding the staff. "We came across my followers, led by a dedicated, young priestess. What did you expect?"

"That I will remember a fucking thing!" Marc growled loudly.

"We took part in a little ritual. Don't bother yourself with that. Did you rest?"

"I guess," Spector muttered, rubbing his forehead. ”Shall I be worried?"

"Why?"

"I have no recollection of anything. Who knows what you did while in control of my body."

"Who do you take me for, Marc? Have you forgotten? Your body is mine, you agreed to that on your own."

"Still, you took control of my body and played with it like a puppet," Marc shrugged and flopped back onto the bed, slipping hands under his head.

"As I said, your body belongs to me. And if you only saw her," Khonshu said quietly to himself. "We'll get back there eventually. To keep my followers focused, I must remind them from time to time who they worship."

The Healing Power of Love || Steven Grant x fem!Reader Drabble

Summary: one day Steven starts talking to you about his existential anxiety and how your love healed him. It encourages you to be open about yourself as well.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety & depression

Word count: ~ 1050

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

As Steven sat on a small coffee table with a newspaper in his hands, he suddenly asked, "Have you ever thought about life itself? Occasionally, I imagine life as a playlist of songs playing on shuffle, not knowing what to expect next. There might be a sad song or something upbeat to get us dancing. Whatever the case may be, I know that I enjoy listening to music. Life is just as enchanting to me as music, even when it means some tough times..." His tone was a bit sorrowful as he spoke.

Taking your eyes off your phone, you slowly blinked, feeling a little confused. The timing of Steven's statement was odd and out of the blue. "It's an intriguing way to state it, love. What prompted you to think like this?"

"I would like to be entirely honest with you. Life hasn't been easy - I have spent the last few months trying to get my life in order. This is especially difficult for me since everything I believed in has been shattered. That was the moment I discovered the truth about my past and realised that I was not 'real', but just an alter. I hope you do understand what I mean."

Your head nodded slowly as you placed your phone on the coffee table and adjusted your position on the couch. "According to what I've learned so far, I think I know what you mean."

"In my search for the pieces of the life I thought I knew, I am trying to sort them out. It is challenging for me to find the words to describe the change in my life that occurred. Normal things became huge obstacles, and I don’t want to add those pieces to the new picture of myself. There were trust issues, fears, disgust, and broken family ties. There were panic attacks and a lot of crying, but also numbness. Uncertainty..." Steven's voice fell away, and a single teardrop rolled down his cheek.

You cupped his cheek, gently wiping the teardrop away with your thumb as you moved closer to him. "It's true, there are parts of ourselves that we don't even know about, but look at you," you smiled gently at him. "In spite of the enormous obstacles, you're doing well."

"You know, Y/N... If there was a map explaining how to navigate life, I would take a long look and then hand it to you. But none of this is simple. A map for me might not make sense to you. The places I would love to go or need to go, aren’t the places you hope to or will visit. Life is tricky. It is complicated. Everyone has to figure it out for themselves. Their hopes and dreams, who they want to be, and how they want to spend their days. In the past, there were days of deep depression and despair, not wanting to exist, not wanting to feel the pain, not wanting to feel anything. But I also got to live so many beautiful days because you came into my life..." Steven whispered quietly, looking at you hesitantly. "Do you love me?" He asked. "For who I am?"

You gently kissed his knuckles with the same soft smile you gave him earlier. "You know... I was stuck in that state that was like a heavy stone around my neck. I am sure that no 'life map' would show me the right direction. I was certain there was no place where I had a right to exist," you whispered sadly. "I tried distracting myself from it, hoping maybe in this attempt... I'd be able to escape this overwhelming feeling. But you know what?" You asked sadly.

Steven shook his head soundlessly, his eyes fixed on yours.

When you recalled your first meeting with Steven, you said, "There was this sad smile that gradually started to cut through that bloody rope. It cut the rock off. There have been a lot of bad things I have dropped since I met you, but there have also been a lot of new things I have picked up that are better, but I know one thing for sure," you squeezed his hand softly. "I would never pick up those without you. I would let that stone drag me down until I cut myself off. In other words, I didn't have a life map, but I found a compass. There is someone special who helped me, and I know I love this person so deeply. I can never imagine my life without you."

"I love you," Steven whispered, cupping your cheeks in his palms and rubbing them with his thumbs before crushing his lips on yours. The kiss he offered was sweet like a honey, maybe a little messy but it came from the depths of his passion and love for you. "When life seems hopeless, I want you to know that I have hope for us. When I cannot see my path, I know you have hope for me. On days when you cannot see your path, I have hope for you. When you share hope, it doesn't become less. It becomes more. Even abundant, I would say. So, if you need some hope, I have it for you. Thank you for being my solid ground, my safe haven where I can always be myself. It means a lot to me that you love me for who I am. The way no one else has ever loved me," Steven said, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

You didn't even try to stop yourself from crying. There was no need for you to be ashamed of your tears at this point. "Thank you for loving me and saving me from many terrible things. I promise to do the same in return."

"Your hug has woven our souls together in a way that's a forever bond," Steven chuckled, resting his chin on top of your head. With you by my side, the world slowed down on its axis. No time passed, no wind blew, no rain fell, and no sadness existed. Steven's mind was at peace. This was the love he had prayed for, the love he had waited for. Inwardly, Steven thanked God and hugged you even tighter. Love like this should be cherished for a lifetime.

Time For a Break || Steven Grant x fem!Reader drabble

Summary: You've been studying for hours. Steven gives you some smooches to distract you and make you take a break

Warnings: none 🥰

Word count: ~ 600

Authors: Cass & Rouge

While making the tea Steven watched you from the kitchen.

Sitting on the couch with a thick book in your hands, you were completely focused on your work.

He was proud. Of course he was, since you worked hard to become a doctor. Sometimes you were taking it too far, but it was just your little dream. According to him, at least. "Maybe you should take a break," Steven suggested, but no response was forthcoming, since you were too focused. He walked to you with two mugs of tea in his hands, sighing. After placing both mugs on the little coffee table, he kissed your cheek and said, "Hey, Y/L/N. Can you find a few minutes for your beloved man?"

You turned your head to give him a look while massaging your temples.

There was a look of concern on Steven's face.

You reached out your hand and rubbed his shoulder, a reassuring smile on your face. "Don't be concerned, Steven. I have an extremely critical oral exam coming up next week, and I need to be fully prepared if I am to get a high grade." You picked your mug and took a few sips of the hot liquid, smiling to yourself - Steven knew exactly how to make your favorite tea, not too bitter, not too sweet, just right.

"Don't tell me not to be concerned when you didn't hear me just a moment ago and you have been stuck in those books since morning," Steven said and placed one more kiss on your cheek, and then lips. "You need a break."

"Baby, I can't take a break. Once I get distracted, I'll have to skip learning for today."

"Don't be silly, luv. An hour or two won't stop you from learning. It will refresh this pretty head of yours."

A blush appeared in your cheeks as you chuckled softly. "Maybe you're right..."

He nodded, gently patting your shoulder with his hand. "Of course I am right. You should give your head a rest so you can learn even more."

You put the mug back on the table and laid on the couch, placing your head on his lap.

Steven moved a hand through your hair as he hummed, "That's a lot better than reading all the time, innit?"

"Are you proud of me?"

He nodded, "Of course I am proud of you. You do so much, you work hard. But I am also mad at you."

"Mad?" You looked up at him, frowning.

Steven shook his head as he said, "Yes. You overexert yourself. I swear I hear you reciting those books of yours while we are in bed."

"I don't!" You protested loudly.

Just recently, I heard you muffle and mutter something about the brain and how it works. Hearing all about that gray matter or something was a tad creepy and graphic," Steven pretended to shiver. "It was like sleeping with some sort of crazy serial killer."

"Maybe deep down I am one," you teased, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "I love you so much, Steven. Thank you for all of your concern, that's adorable."

"Well, I care about you and your well-being because I love you," Steven smiled and kissed your palm. "And you seriously overwork yourself lately."

I'll consider a longer break if you offer me one of your sweet smooches."

Laughter filled the air as Steven leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. "I love you."

You gave the kiss back and smiled as he straightened his back again. "I love you too. Thank you for everything."

En la cine ||Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

gif made by Cass - please credit us if you use the gif.

Summary: Jake invites you on a date and takes you to the cinema. Watching a movie turns into a steamy experience

Warnings: smut, minors DNI

Word count: 1988

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: orange italics - Jake speaking Spanish Special note: @grossograsso - having worked on this fanfic was an honor, and we are happy to dedicate it to you on your birthday. The Paper Panda team wishes you abundant happiness and love. May all your dreams turn into reality and may lady luck visit your home today. Happy birthday to one of the sweetest people we’ve ever known. Thank you for being with us for almost six years, dear! Our hope is that you will enjoy this story ♥

Movie theater was where your brain was programmed through music, words, and actions. This was the place where you met many new wonderful role models for your world and imagination. The velvet plush seats with popcorn in your lap taught you more than school did, and you found it quite humorous.

Jake invited you to the cinema, and you gladly accepted, no matter what kind of film he picked.

In a short skirt and fitted t-shirt, you stood in front of the cinema, checking the time again on your smartphone; he was late, and the movie would start shortly.

"Wouldn't it be better if you waited inside so that you wouldn't get cold?" Jake asked as he walked up to you with his hands in his jacket's pockets.

Going out didn't appeal to him much. He was simply annoyed by too many strangers, especially when he was with you, but he was ready to do this for you only.

"Hi," you greeted him with a small nod of your head and a smile on your lips.

You hadn't been dating for long, just a couple of weeks, but his mystery and rather jovial demeanor were too alluring for you to resist; you were interested in what he had to offer.

After entering the theater, you asked, "What movie did you choose?"

As Jake opened the door for you, he admitted openly, "I didn't pick a movie at all," with a little shrug. "I wanted you to choose one so you could enjoy the whole date."

When you checked the repertoire, you selected an action movie and ordered a huge popcorn and two sodas.

Jake felt a huge sense of relief when you didn't pick a romantic comedy where he would have to hold you when you felt like crying, or care about the sad story on the screen.

After paying for everything, he followed you to the cinema hall to take your seats.

You chose the middle seats in the last row, the highest possible. You smiled sweetly at him after taking your seat.

Looking at your short skirt, Jake joked, "I see you got ready for that date. I kinda feel bad I took you to the movies."

Your cheeks blushed, and you cleared your throat before saying, "Jake! Don't be so rude!"

"Rude? Since I'm on a date with a girl who looks amazing in short skirts, it's worth complementing," he raised an eyebrow and gave you a soft smile. "The blush on your face makes you look gorgeous."

In response to his compliment, you smirked at him, making sure to tug your skirt down over your thighs. "You look handsome as always, and I'm glad you invited me."

"I'm glad you agreed to this date. I was worried you wouldn't like it," Jake said, taking a seat comfortably. His eyes still wandered to your legs and skirt despite everything.

You asked him if he felt well by your side to divert his attention. Because you were only a thing for a short period of time, you were constantly scared.

Jake knew he shouldn't act like this. It was obvious that you weren't a one-time thing, but he couldn't help but stare at you; all he wanted was to touch you.

He actually tried to keep the conversation going until the light went out so as not to freak you out.

Your tone was filled with excitement as you told him, "It starts."

A slow nod was given by him. "Yeah, la película está empezando."

As you sipped from your soda cup from time to time, you focused on the movie.

The skirt kept Jake from paying attention to the movie. Jake was just being Jake.

It didn't take him long to find a comfortable place on your leg for his hand.

It was a blessing that the screening room was dark, illuminated only by the screen's light. 

The moment his palm touched your knee, you shifted a little, turning your attention to him.

While gently squeezing your soft flesh, he pretended that he was watching a movie.

A smile spread across your face as you returned to watching the movie.

Jake still pretended he was watching as the rough hand of his moved up your leg.

You let out a soft gasp.

Jake moved to you and whispered right into your ear, "Are you enjoying the movie?"

In an instant, you turned your head to him, nodding, but without saying a word so as not to disturb people in lower rows.

"Come on, you know you can talk. There are just a few people here. They won't hear you." Jake's hand slipped under your skirt instantly.

A gasp escaped your parted lips as your eyes widened. "Jake, what are you doing?"

"Estoy pasando un buen momento," he replied simply.

Putting your hand on his forearm, you asked him, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

As Jake moved his hand between your legs, he nodded, "Yes, I am. How about you?"

You spread your legs a little, gasping quietly, nodding your head. "Yhy, much, but you shouldn't, we're in public."

"Are you scared someone will hear or see us?" Jake asked.

Biting your lower lip, you nodded your head.

You had never done anything like that before; you had been in a few relationships before, but they were never that serious.

"No one will know a thing if you keep quiet," Jake instructed in a low tone of his. His curious fingers reached your panties and he began to slowly play with you through the fabric.

Again, you nodded your head and gasped, this time a little louder.

Jake only hushed you without stopping his actions. His only regret was not being able to see your pretty face fully.

As he placed his palm between your thighs, you instinctively bucked your hips.

In a chuckle, he moved your panties to the side so he could finally touch you without any barriers. Though you acted so innocent, he already sensed how wet you were, just for him.

As his fingers teasingly moved up and down your clit, you panted; you didn't care if anyone could hear.

As two of his fingers slowly moved into the tight pussy, Jake whispered, "Buena niña," into your ear. He shifted slightly in his seat and placed a few kisses on your neck.

There was no doubt Jake was a skilled man, and he knew exactly how to touch your starving body to make you moan. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you parted your lips and gasped quietly. "Fuck."

"Want more?" Jake asked.

In a whisper, you replied, "Yes."

Jake kissed your cheek and moved away, licking his fingers clean as he did so. Oh, you tasted so sweetly.

As he sat in his chair, he worked on his pants before grabbing your arm to pull you onto his lap.

After being pulled by your shoulders, you got on his lap as quietly as possible. You smiled to yourself as you pressed your back against his torso; the situation was everything but what you had expected to happen on that date.

"Look at you. First you scolded me for complimenting your short skirt, then you jumped on my lap so easily," Jake whispered into your ear from behind.

Moaning, you bucked your hips against his crotch.

Your lips were immediately covered by his palm. "I told you to keep quiet. There are only a few people here, but they can still hear you," Jake groaned, biting on your earlobe.

As you kissed his inner palm, you nodded eagerly.

With an amused smile, Jake sat you on his lap fully, pushing his pants just a little bit further to free his hard cock. Despite enjoying the moment, he was surprised how easy it was to slip under that short skirt of yours, but he wasn't going to complain, quite the contrary.

Jake slowly pushed his cock into your tight hole while keeping your mouth covered. The other arm was tightly wrapped around your waist.

Having him manhandle you was blissful; you felt like a puppet he could control, but you savored every moment. His cock was thick and filled you to the brim. 

Putting a hand under your skirt, you shifted your lacy pants aside, and of course, you rubbed your clit, letting out a moan.

As Jake quickly pushed your hand away, he announced he would be the one that gives you pleasure tonight. With his hips thrusted in you carefully, he began to circle your clit with his calloused finger, panting deeply right into your ear.

As you wrapped your arm around his neck, your hips bucked slightly to meet his thrusts. You cupped his jaw with your other hand and forced him to look at you before kissing him.

Jake kissed you back, tightly gripping your waist. As a matter of fact, he was glad that there were so few people watching the movie that night. As a result, he was able to pull it off much more easily. "Niña traviesa," Jake whispered against your lips.

"Harder," you pleaded against his lips as quietly as you could. 

Only one thing you wished for was to change the uncomfortable position, but you knew that was impossible.

As Jake had little to no obligations against your wishes, he gladly picked up his pace as much as he could. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have to take you again in a more comfortable setting; your pussy felt amazing hugging his cock tightly, swallowing his entire girth.

As you rested your forehead against his cheek, you enjoyed the way he grunted quietly; it made you feel proud after all, you made him do that. As your pussy clenched around his cock for the first time, you whispered, "Oh my God, I'll cum. I want you to touch me. Fuck"

"Good. Buena niña," Jake praised as he thrust into you with his hand onto your clit again, abusing it. It was also apparent to him that he was getting closer to his climax.

You jerked up from his lap, his throbbing cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. You quickly straddled his lap again, took a hold of his dick, and pushed it back to your aching pussy. You wrapped your arms around Jake's neck tightly when you started going up and down on his shaft, stealing a messy kiss from him, panting like crazy.

He teased against your lips, "Don't hold back and we might still watch the movie."

"Fuck the movie," you gasped, kissing Jake again and muffling your groans with that. You snapped your hips faster and harder, enjoying Jake's fingers digging into your hips as he tightened his grasp on you.

"I'm gonna fucking fill you up," Lockley groaned, grabbing your hips and keeping you in a place while he filled your cunt with his thick cum.

To muffle your moans, you kissed and sucked on the side of Jake's neck. You started moving faster and faster after he spilled his seed deep in your pussy, until you reached your climax. 

Your peak was intense like never before; shivers ran down your spine as you shivered in Jake's arms, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, feeling your pussy clenching rhythmically around his dick, milking and coating it with your juices.

As Jake gently stroked your back, he praised you quietly. "You're such a good girl. Just so we're clear, I'm still not finished with you."

"I was hoping you'd say something like that," you told Jake as you kissed him, briefly letting your tongue dance with his.

Shortly after, you slipped off his lap and returned to your seat, pulling your skirt down and improving your outfit.

As he pulled his pants back in place, Jake smiled proudly. Taking care of you again was already his top priority after this stupid movie ended.