Moon Knight X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 3
me patiently waiting for steven grant x reader after watching the first episode:
I need help finding a fanfic about a reader that’s the sister of the watcher. She owns a cafe for hero’s/vigilantes to come and relax.
These two chapters are everything I need in life
Lose The One
pairing (s): marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: this is a part two to glimpse of us
word count: 6.6k
moon knight masterlist
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
The queasy feeling in your heart should’ve been able to stop you from going to their home. The unexplainable anxiety boiling in your chest should’ve been able to make you stay in the comfort of your bed, instead of standing in front of their door, which was left ajar. The confusion bubbling in your mind should’ve been able to tell you that nothing good was happening.
You should’ve walked away, then perhaps your heart could still be saved.
But curiosity and worry struck you in the heart, and with a leap of faith, you walked into their home. Deciding against calling out their names— whoever was fronting at the time— You stayed silent.
Then you heard his voice, Steven’s, in the bathroom. A soft smile grew on your face, as you could tell he was having a conversation with Marc and Jake. You had encountered it a few times before, whether it was just them having a civil conversation or arguing about things that did not matter.
Walking closer towards the bathroom, you thought it was just a fun banter between them, the one which could entertain you as you thought they were being adorable—But you had never been so wrong in your entire life.
“I’m not letting you break her heart, Marc!”
Steven’s voice was dripping with fury, and you had never heard him speak that way before. A part of you was telling you to leave, but another was telling you stay and listen, and when you heard your name spilling from his mouth, you knew they were talking about you and there was no way you wanted to leave now.
“We— We’re protecting her. That’s what we are doing.”
Steven was unsure, and it was clear from the way his voice wavered, but he still stood firm on what he believed in. You had no idea what Marc was telling him, and you wished you could hear what was making Steven so angry.
“We are not telling her the truth. She would leave.”
The words came out as a whisper, and you would have went to him to give him a hug if he did not let out a scoff, glaring at the mirror as if it was the most sickening sight he had ever laid his eyes on.
“She would leave if she knows we have been lying to her, Marc.”
At his words, something inside of you recoiled in pain. You did not know if you could listen to him any longer, but it was as if your feet was glued to the floor, and you could not leave.
“Do you really want to tell her that we have been using her? That we have never really loved her the way she thinks we do?”
You had never experienced heartbreak before. You always wondered how terrible it must be, to let someone have a hold over your fragile heart, and to watch as they drop it on the ground, stomping it with their own bare feet. Now that Steven’s words rang in your head, you knew how painful it was. How terrifying it was.
They did not love you the way you thought they did.
“She’s so kind to us, so loving, so perfect. We can’t tell her the truth. It would break her heart. I don’t want to hurt her, Marc.”
You had to bit the inside of your cheeks, holding back a sob that was crawling out of your tightened throat. The truth that they were lying to you, making you believe that they loved you to death was presented before you, and you wanted to scream at Steven for trying not to break your heart, when that was all he ever did.
All these times, Steven was the one who had been hurting you in silence. You could not believe it. Never once did he forget to tell you that he loved you, and you ate up every single lie he fed you with. He was always careful with his touches, gentle with every kisses. He could never be the reason behind your tears.
If they did not love you, then why would they pretend as if you were everything to them?
“We need her, Marc. We would die without her.”
The desperation in Steven’s voice was the answer you needed. They were keeping you for their own selfish reasons. Hot tears boiled in your eyes, and you felt like you were walking on a burning tightrope. They were everything to you. Everything.
A lone tear rolled down upon your face, watching as Marc took over from Steven who was close to tears. You almost let out a scoff, it was funny to see how he was the one who was betraying your trust, and yet he acted as if he was the betrayed one. He had manipulated you into believing that he was the sweetest among them, and you had fallen for it foolishly.
“We are telling her the truth, Steven. We have to.”
Marc was determined, as the truth was starting to haunt him in his dreams, like a shadow looming over him and trying to swallow him whole one day if he kept on going like this— Lying and pretending to be in love with you when his heart had never been yours to keep.
“I know you love her, Jake. But Steven and I don’t.”
That was it. To hear it from Marc was like having him stab you in the heart, watching as it cracked and bled. A strangled sob escaped your lips, and you found yourself crying as everything came to you in a flash— Reminding you that everything they did and everything they said meant nothing to them when it meant the world to you.
They were your whole world.
“Y/N?”
Your sorrowful cries alerted Marc, and it ruined him when he saw you crying there, realising that you had heard everything. There was no turning back now. He had broken your heart, and you were going to hate him— Hate them.
“I trusted you, Marc. I trusted all of you.”
You were not screaming, and somehow Marc wished you were. Perhaps it would take the guilt off of his shoulders a bit if you showed him how furious you were. But you were holding it back, and all he could see when he looked you in the eyes was disappointment.
“Y/N, we need you. I need you.”
He still had the audacity to tell you that he needed you when he lied to you, acting like you were the one he loved, when you meant nothing but source of comfort to him. You could not believe that you were gullible enough to let them lie to you like this.
“You need me but you don’t want me. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
The disgust in your voice was enough to make him wince. You had never talked to him that way before. Not to him, not to Steven or Jake. You were always gentle with them, that sometimes he wondered if there was even an ounce of wrath in you. It seemed like he managed to bring it out of you, and he despised it.
“You have never really loved me. Is that true?”
Knowing the dreadful truth was going to kill you, but you had been living in lies for so long that you felt like you needed the truth to breathe. A piece of you wanted to strangle Marc when he let out a wistful sigh, the truth felt bitter on his tongue.
“I thought I loved you. But I didn’t.”
He would forever be grateful of your presence in his life, that he would never lie to you about. When his wife had finally had enough, Marc thought it was the end of it, that he would never have someone who could love him like she did. But then he found you, or rather you found him— And you could love him more than she ever did.
He wanted to feel your love and affection even if he knew there was no home for you in his heart. He could not live without you asking him if he was alright, he could not go on about his day without you sending him cute little messages throughout the day, and he could not sleep without holding you safe in his arms.
When he realised he was not in love, it wrecked him. He wanted to be in love with you, truly he did.
Marc knew nothing could excuse his mistake. He was greedy and selfish, loving the idea of you loving him so much that he would sacrifice your own heart for his needs. He deserved every single hatred you were going to throw on him, and he would understand.
“You’re keeping me sane. You’re my reason, sweetheart. That’s why I lied to you, hoping that you would stay.”
A fresh wave of tears streamed down your face, and as much as you wanted to walk away— You knew there was more. You needed to hear more from them, as they had been showering you in lies for far too long. You wanted to stop becoming the idiot in their story.
“You were planning to tell me, weren’t you?”
Marc nodded, holding back his tears as he knew he should’ve told you sooner. He was too consumed by his own selfish needs, that he disregarded the fact that you deserved to know the truth. You did not deserve to be in a loveless relationship.
“I finally realised that you deserve to know. I can’t sleep knowing that I’m lying to the only person who sees her future with me. I can’t do that to you.”
He did not know what would happen now that the truth was revealed. Marc could already see you leaving him, and he would fall into a pit of sorrow and he would have no one to catch him. A life without you sounded so horrendous, but it was what he deserved.
“I thought you were the one for me, Marc.”
He clenched his jaw, not wanting to break into tears in front of you. He was the one who was hurting you, and he did not want to make it seem like you were to be blamed. You always did that— Taking the blame for him when you should not. It was what keeping the fabricated relationship alive.
“You were so distant and I thought I did something wrong. You never told me what it was, and you kept telling me that you loved me. Do you ever look at me and think of how stupid I am to be falling for your lies?”
Marc shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had never thought you as stupid. Every time he lied to you, he would see the way your eyes lightened up, and it was a look of nothing but love. You were so in love with him, foolishly so, but he was the stupid one. He was the one who was imprudent enough not to love you when he had the chance.
Before he could tell you about his regrets, you saw the changes in his posture and the look in his eyes. You knew them too well to know who was fronting— Steven Grant. You used to give him your biggest smile, your warmest hug and your softest touch. But now you found yourself taking a few steps back, as if his presence was burning you.
And Steven noticed that, of course, he did. He was not greeted with your sweet laughter or your loving hugs. Instead, he was met with you scowling at him, putting your distance with him like he was a stranger who could hurt you. It hurt him terribly but then he looked at your red and swollen eyes, realising that you were hurt, too.
“Love, please listen to me. I love you—“
“How dare you? You don’t love me, Steven. Stop lying!”
If you were not screaming before, you surely were screaming now. Frustration and anger were building up in your chest, waiting for the right time to be let out. Steven’s declaration of love was the only push you needed to show them how wretched you were.
“Stop saying you love me when you don’t!”
He was not expecting you to yell at him. He thought if he took over from Marc, he could talk some sense into you, and perhaps he could make you stay with them. It was unwise of him to think that you would melt at the sight of him, when you already knew he was a liar. You were done being used by the man who you loved with all of your heart.
“I love you, and it is not a lie. It’s just.. It’s just that I love her more.”
Steven said, shredding your heart into pieces, and you could feel the pain, crawling and tugging in your chest. Somehow knowing that Marc had never loved you was better than this. To hear that Steven loved somebody else, it painted your world in blue.
“I’m sorry, love. You’re perfect. You’re everything we need but—“
“But I’m not her.”
The breaking in your voice was enough to send him to tears. He did not even bother to stop himself from crying as the reality hit him hard, that you knew he was pretending to be in love with you, when his heart was hers from the start. You, the only person who could calm the storm in his head, now could not care less about him anymore.
“Please don’t leave me.”
He begged, not caring at how pathetic he sounded, or the way Marc was scolding him in his head. He knew he did not deserve to be forgiven, and he should not asked you to stay, but he wanted you to stay with him. A piece of him still thought that he was the only person who could never hurt you, and that you were crying because of Marc and not him.
How could he live without you? You were the comfort he needed. When you fell in love with him, he felt like the world was his. He never thought someone could love him as much as you did. You had so much love to give, and you never stopped showing him how in love you were with him.
He saw the way you looked at Marc, and he saw the way you looked at Jake. You loved them endlessly, but Steven was convinced you loved him the most. You always gazed at him like he decorated the night skies with the brightest stars for you. He was the one for you.
He always knew what to do and say to make you smile, and he took pride in making you happy. It was not like he was competing with Marc and Jake, but he wanted to be the one who make you the happiest in his presence. He lived to see your smile, and the sight of your tears hurt his soul, even if he was not the one who made you so distraught.
“I love you.”
He said, once again, hoping that you would see that he could not go on with his life without you by his side. He was so used to having you with him, and he could see his downfall if you were not there to support him. His heart was hers, but he loved you, and it was always enough for you before.
“You see her every time you’re with me, Steven. I’m everything she’s not and you want more. I’m just an understudy to you. That’s not love.”
You spat, thinking of the time when you put him on top, never once did you see him as someone who was using you for his own good. Steven tried to reach out for you, but you slapped his hand away, and that was when he knew nothing could stop you from leaving them.
“How could you make me believe that you love me when you always think of her? Why would you do this to me, Steven?”
Your questions were left unanswered, as Steven could only shake his head, not knowing how to explain it to you. He did not know why did he do this to you, since you deserved so much more than to be with a liar. You were destined for happiness, and yet, he was robbing you from it.
“I was being selfish.”
The truth stung, but it had to be said, and he knew it was the answer you were looking for when you nodded weakly. Steven was known for pleasing you, worshipping the ground you walked on, loving you even on your worst days— But now you knew it was all a play pretend so he could keep you with him.
He was pretending to love you, and nothing hurt more than being betrayed by the love of your life.
“I hate you, Steven.”
The words rolled out of your tongue easily, that Steven flinched, shaking his head violently. No, you were not supposed to hate him. But there was no remorse in your eyes, and he knew you meant everything you said. You wanted to hurt him, and it was working.
“Don’t— Don’t say that, love. You’re hurting me.”
Your heart would break at the sound of his devastation, but it was already shattered, hence you could only scoff at him, watching as tears spilled from his eyes. To see Steven’s crying was torturing you, but then again, he deserved to cry himself to sleep every night from now on. And he would no longer have you to wipe his tears away.
He was not in love with you. He only loved the idea of being the good boyfriend you thought he was. The one who could make you find a way to make you laugh when you were on the verge of tears, the one who could make you smile when you were falling apart.
In return, you loved him so much that you thanked the stars every night for letting you to be with a good man like him.
“I wish I never fell in love with you, Steven.”
The words broke the last scaffolding holding you together, and more tears broke free with the anguish you had been keeping in. You wished you could turn back time, and maybe you could be saved from this sullen heartbreak. You shouldn’t have met Marc. You should’ve run when you still had the chance.
The aching in your chest was growing, and you knew you had to leave. You could not bear the sight of him anymore, no matter who was fronting. Suddenly you felt so alone. The truth was like you against them. All of these times you have been the idiotic fool in their mess, letting yourself drowned by their beautiful lies.
You were nothing but a pawn in their wicked game.
You were heading towards the door, heart heavy in your chest when he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from walking out of the door. You recognised the touch, it was not as gentle as Steven’s, but it was not as harsh as Marc’s. His touch always sent warmth rising in your chest, and it felt like your torn heart was stitching itself back together.
“Jake, let me go.”
There was so much to say, your words died down in your throat. You wanted to lash out on him, but when you turned around to look at him, the world around you crumbled helplessly. You had never seen the man so miserable before, that it took everything in you not to give in and fall into his arms.
“Forgive me, mi sol.”
You were his sun. Jake felt like air was forced out of his lungs, seeing you with tears on your face, knowing that he was a part of the reasons behind every drop of them. You, who always had a bright smile on your lips, and it was replaced with a sad frown. The blinding gleam in your eyes had shimmered into glistening tears.
He could not bear witness of the dying light in your soul. He had to save you, the way you saved him from losing himself to the darkness.
“Was any of it real?”
Your question was like a punch to his gut. He felt weak on his knees. It was like his muscles were ripped out of his bones. The pain was nothing like he had felt before. You were doubting his love for you, when he was the one who poured his heart and soul into everything he did and said.
“Of course, it was real. I would never lie to you.”
“Never?”
Jake stiffened at how cold you sounded. He bit his tongue, knowing that he did lie to you, when he hid the fact that Marc and Steven were only using you. He lied to you when he knew they were betraying your trust. He lied to you in order to protect Marc and Steven, hurting you in the process.
“Do you think I deserved it, Jake?”
With every word, it was intended to hurt him, and you did not even think twice as you wanted him to feel as hurt as you. Jake could only looked at you, knowing that he did this to you. He was losing the love of his life.
“I love you so much, Jake. I love you…”
Your defeated whispers were tormenting him. It hurt him to think that he would never get to hear those words again from you, and now he was going to remember the way you said them with trembling lips and teary eyes. He was going to remember how disappointed you were with him.
“I love you, Y/N. I swear I do.”
He said, pulling you into his arms as you let out the most heartbreaking cry he had ever heard. A great tremor overtook your body as you cried, and he let you, knowing that perhaps it could be the last time he would have the chance to hold and comfort you. He was losing you.
“Do you really love me? Please tell me the truth.”
You hated how frail you sounded, but your heart would not be able to take another lie.
“I love you so much, princesa.”
His words were like a heavy chain, binding your soul to his. For a moment, you let yourself dream of what it would be like if it was only you and him. Perhaps you could still forgive him and let it go, but you knew it was impossible for you to forget everything when your heart was crushed mercilessly.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe me. But I’m not lying when I say I love you.”
Jake did not know what to do to convince you that he was being truthful. Fear was suffocating him, and he started to feel lost, finding no love in your gaze on him. It was full of doubts, and he loathed it.
“Did you know that they were using me?”
His grip around your waist loosened, and he did not need to say anything to tell you that he knew everything. He was aware that Marc only needed you to ground him, to make him feel like a person who could be loved and cared for. He saw that Steven only needed you to comfort him, when the world was far too cruel for him to endure. Jake was the missing piece of the puzzle of your heartbreak.
“You knew, Jake. You let them hurt me.”
You hissed, getting out of his grasp as if his touch burned your skin. It tugged on his heartstrings when he realised that you were right. He claimed to love you, but then he allowed them to use you like you meant nothing to him. He said he was in love with you, but still he watched as they toyed with your feelings.
“If I told you the truth, then you would leave us. Marc and Steven would be a mess without you. I was only protecting them.”
He sounded like a complete jerk, saying that to you. And your next words was more painful than taking a bullet through his skull.
“Wasn’t I worth protecting too?”
The raindrops on the window were like tears falling down your cheeks. It should bother you of how cold you were getting, but you felt like you were shivering out of anger. You wanted to scream at them, hitting them, or trashing their home, but now the sound of the rain was the only thing you could focus on.
You did not even realise Jake was coming closer, not until you felt his lips on your head. The familiar feeling of warmth and adoration were creeping in, but they were quickly flushed down by your dejection. He did not protect your heart like he promised to.
“I know you don’t deserve to be betrayed like this. I was scared that I would lose you. If you knew, you would leave me because you can see them when you look at me. I love you too much to live without you, mi sol.”
He was not good with words, but he needed you to hear everything he had to say, no matter how mundane it might be to you. You were important to him, and he would do anything to make you believe that he loved you. He wanted you to know that you were the only one for him.
“My heart is yours."
You shook your head, not believing a word he said anymore. You could see regret in his eyes, but it was hard for you to think that Jake was not lying to you too. You could tell that he was dying to touch you, wanting to hold you and never let go, but he was frightened that you would push him away and it would break him.
“I wish I could go back to a time when I believe every word you say.”
Your wounding words was like a slap to his face. Tears trickled down his face, and he did not even bother to wipe them away as he kept his eyes on you, the person who owned his heart and soul.
“The least you could do was tell me the truth.”
He could only nod, ignoring the pain in his chest. He wished he could fix this, but he did not know how. The hurt in your eyes was enough to tell him that he had broken your heart, and you were not going to let him put it back together again.
“The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you, mi corazón. I was wrong for lying to you.”
You would never forget how loving Jake was to you. He was a difficult man to deal with at the beginning, who did not talk much and he only glanced at you whenever he wanted to. He never cared much, but he never did anything to irritate you. He always noticed when you were uncomfortable or sad, letting Marc or Steven front so they could help you.
When he fell in love with you, you realised he was such a passionate lover. He always put you before him in everything. You were his priority. He noticed every little things you did, giving compliments when you were not expecting him to, and even if he felt like he did not deserve your love, you finally made him believe that nothing could stop you from loving him.
If Steven got you flowers because he felt like it was something that he should do, Jake got you flowers because you deserved to have flowers. He loved the way you would smile so big that it reached your eyes, and you would give him the best hug he had ever received in his whole life.
Roses and lilies were more like Steven and Marc’s type of flowers to give, and at first, Jake imitated them. But then he realised it would make you happier if it was personalised and thoughtful, and so he got you sunflowers. He would remember it forever that the sunflowers matched your yellow dress, and it almost made you cry out of happiness.
He had also stopped by at someone’s garden one day, as he accidentally saw beautiful flowers and he was immediately reminded of you. He knew he could just grab them and leave, but thinking that he was doing it for you, he knocked on the door and talked politely to the elderly woman who seemed to be more than glad to give them to him when he told her about you.
“You’re so in love with her. Are you going to marry her?”
The lady’s question crossed his mind again and again like a broken record when he was on his way home. Then he gave the flowers to you, smiling when you squealed like a little girl who got a candy. At the moment, he thought, he wanted to marry you. Yes, he wanted a life with you.
Jake was shook from his train of thoughts, stopping himself from being haunted by the ghosts of everything that should have been but will never be. Gone were the days when he could get you flowers. Gone were the days when he could think about how happy you would be if he asks you to marry him.
“Maybe if you told me the truth, things would be different.”
The guilt. Jake could feel it seeping through his bones. But with his growing guilt and regret, came a forceful and compelling need to make it up to you, to make sure that you get the life you deserved to get. It impaired him to think that in order to let you have your happiness, he had to let you go.
“Do you want to say goodbye to them?”
“No, I don’t want to see them ever again.”
You said, biting and bitter. Jake inhaled sharply, realising how agonising it was for you to look at him now, when you could also see Marc and Steven in him. But you did it because you loved him, and even if you did not say it, you believed that Jake truly loved you. You believed him.
“I love you, mi sol.”
You gave him a soft smile, biting the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from saying it back to him. You had been hurt, and you could not let yourself fall for it again, no matter how genuine he was. You wished you could tell him how much you loved him, but it would only make things harder.
“You’re a good man, Jake. Take care of yourself.”
And then you were gone. The future he was going to share with you vanished into the thin air. Everything was changing. You were no longer there with him, with them. You had left, and even with Marc and Steven’s voices ringing in his head, he had never felt so alone.
He was afraid. His heart was empty and his mind was messy. He had to live without you.
“We’re going to be okay, Jake.”
Marc was wrong. He was trying to convince Jake that everything was going to fall back into place, but deep down, he knew it was impossible. There was no way they could have a better life than the one they used to have with you. The life they shared with you was like a dream, and now they were living in a nightmare.
They fought. A lot. It hurt them whenever they fought even at the smallest of things, because the argument would always spiral back to you. They would end up talking about you. They would reminisce the times when you were still with them. They would blame each other for your absence.
They needed you. They wanted you.
Marc watched you from afar. He felt like it was his obligation to make sure that you got home safe from work. If he could not walk you home at night like he used to, then the least he could do was protect you as much as he could. He would never forgive himself is something bad happened to you.
But then one day you saw him. And you had asked him to stop. He did.
Steven wrote you love letters. It was a thing between you and him. Your love resonated with every word written on the paper, and Steven could not stop himself from writing to you like he used to. It was his way of coping with your absence.
He never sent the letters to you. He knew you would burn them. And so he did it himself, watching as the letters turned into ashes.
Jake never stopped with the flowers. He left flowers on your doorstep every Monday, knowing that you were always grouchy on the particular day, and perhaps the flowers could make you smile. The first time you found the sunflowers, you immediately knew that it was from him. They went straight to the trash.
After a few months, the flowers stopped coming. Jake knew it was hopeless.
A year passed by and they were still inconsolable.
They could only hope that you were doing fine without them. They had hurt you deeply, and they knew there was nothing they could do to make you come back. You were better off without them, but sometimes they let themselves dream of how amazing it would be if they were given another chance to love you.
The dream faded away when they saw you that day.
You were walking with a spring in your step, your smile was as bright as the sun that it sent a smile on Marc’s face. He missed your smile so much, and the way Steven and Jake grew quiet in his head was telling him that they were awe-struck to see you too. It had been too long.
“She looks happy.”
Marc muttered, torn in between leaving or approaching you. As he was busy contemplating, his eyes caught the sight of a man who was coming towards you, Instinctively, Marc thought the man was suspicious and he had ill intentions. However, he stopped dead on his tracks when you ran into the man’s arms, the smile had never fallen from your face.
You were on a date with that man.
They went full on detective mode after that, finding out any dubious information about him. They were worried, and mostly jealous, but their main focus was to keep you safe and happy. They should not have been flabbergasted to see that your new boyfriend’s record was clean.
He never did anything disreputable. He owned a small company, and even if it was still new, his pay check was definitely better than theirs. He lived a safe life, far from danger unlike them who crossed with death almost every night. He could give you a much better life than they could ever do.
Somehow Steven managed to talk to his acquaintances, and he thought that maybe he could prove that your boyfriend was not as good as he seemed to be. But they only talked good things about him. They told Steven about how kind and loving your boyfriend was, and that they had seen him with you a few times. His friends really believed that you were meant for each other, like soulmates— Steven had to force a smile at that.
The second time they saw you with him at the coffee shop, Jake was fronting. He would be lying if he was not hurt, but he wanted you to be happy. He would do anything to make you happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own feelings for you.
Before he could stop himself, he was walking towards you who was waiting for your boyfriend. You looked so pretty. A tinge of jealousy hit him, thinking of how lucky the man was to be loved by such a perfect person.
The smell of coffee overwhelmed his senses. He could not think of what to say to you, but still, he dragged his feet towards you. He did not even realise what he was doing until he saw your smile dropped, but you quickly pulled yourself together and faked a smile.
“What are you doing here?”
Cold. He thought that maybe after a year, you had forgiven them. He thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be friends again.
“Are you happy?”
He asked, hating that the tone of your voice did not match the sweet smile on your lips. He recognised that it was not genuine. He had seen you smile so many times that he could tell you were trying so hard not to frown at him.
“Please tell me. Are you happy?”
That was the only concern in his mind right now. He could not care less that you found someone else to love. You deserved every good thing in this world. You deserved to be loved. You deserved to be happy.
“I’m happy, Jake.”
This time, you gave him a genuine smile. His heart fluttered when you smiled, and he nodded. He knew your boyfriend was going to be there soon and he did not want to bother you. He had his chance, and he blew it. He was not going to ruin it for you.
“That’s all I need to know. You deserve all the happiness in the world, cariño.”
With a bruised heart, he walked away from you, letting you go for real this time. He could hear Marc and Steven disagreeing with what he did, believing that they still had the opportunity to fix the damage they had caused to your precious heart. But Jake knew you better than they could ever do, and he knew he was doing the right thing by letting you go.
Despite of his acceptance, Jake was still fuming with resentment. He loved you, and now he had lost you because of Marc and Steven. For a year, he had been holding back, not wanting to blame his alters no matter how much he wanted to. But now that he saw another man was making you happy, the way he did before if not more, he was letting it all out.
“Both of you ruined our life. You made her leave. You did this to us.”
Jake let his heart be blinded by love, and his mind be clouded by rage. Nothing they say could change his mind as he was getting out of control. You made him realise that he had a heart, but now you had taken it along with you, leaving his chest with a void that only you could fill. His anger sunk deeper, gripping like claws, embedding so deep that he doubted the scars would ever heal.
He had let Marc and Steven decide for him for far too long now, ending up destroying the only good thing he had to hold on to. The only person he had his eyes on. The only love he wanted to have. Not anymore.
It was his turn to orchestrate their life now, and he chose guns and blood, the way it was before you. Needless to say, Marc and Steven were not going to get the body in a very, very long time.
.•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•.
taglist for glimpse of us part two: @brekkers-desigirl @whosethatgurlitsjess @golddustswoman @aestheticpisces @suchahautemess @spicydonut25 @jupitersmoon167 @lana-isabelle @rosaren2498 @n0ripeaches @unspokenmoon @mccn-bcys @rmoonstoner @guiltofpleasures @bxmxtx @timeless-crow @harrys-tittie @enter-clever-and-witty-url-here @outlawedmando @ahoytherebean @rellasnowheenim @pascalsism @lovelyladymayyy @galeroseb @nixonvandelheim @itsmadamehydra @zelspktr @pri00r @ninebluehearts @in-between-the-cafes @carlanee2000 @dyxshit @hypnoinstaxartcloud @kestrel2001 @iamlost @constanza1000 @manicchii @urforevermore @strangespinapple @justyourwritter69 @killerninjaapanda @justyourlocals1mp @alexisabirdie @llvcy @8hgel @lluckpng @imhereforoscarisaac @glimpseoff @lovely-pineapples @jade-sucker-for-steven @memoirsofxangel @noodle81937 @snacswell @potatodaddy @justsumtuffstuff
i tagged the people who commented on the previous part. please message me if you want to be removed. thanks!
Moon Knight Fic Recs (Part II)
Hey gang!! I’m still very much hyper-fixated on Moon Knight (as if the profile pic didn’t prove that already), so here are more Moon Knight fic recs! These are all literally fucking fantastic and I want them forever and ever so yeah. Please give these authors a ton of love so they know that we, the readers, appreciate them!! (also, if you’re one of these authors and you’d like to be removed from this list, please let me know!!)
Part I of my Moon Knight Fic Recs
——
Fifth Times the Charm by @gothamcafe
In which the Moon Boys argue over who gets the first kiss with you, but you just think that they don’t want to kiss you. (cute, fluffy, what more could you want?!)
Still Bottled Up by @red-pill-blue-pill
After meeting your parents for the first time, Marc has a really rough time coping. (Very much hurt/comfort, which I am SUCH a slut for.)
A Long Night by @myfictionaldreams
In which all three of your boys come out to rail the absolute shit out of you. (smut, so much smut. I love this, I love smut, so yeah)
Chocolate by @laters-gators
You spend a night sharing a box of chocolates with Steven Grant and it quickly turns very steamy. (more smut! also I love awkward Steven, and the part where he licks the chocolate off his fingers in this?? life changing, truly)
The Break-Up by @foreverinadais
All three of your boys broke up with you in the same night, seemingly out of the blue. In your grief, you see Steven out on a date with another girl, and you decide that you need answers for why they all left you so suddenly (This hurt me, but I never want a sad ending, so this ends happily, don’t worry)
Tired and Wounded by @eyelessfaces
You need to take care of Marc when he comes home injured, but his emotional state requires more care than his body (can you tell I like hurt/comfort?? cause I do, if that wasn’t obvious)
Moments by @bensolosbluesaber
There’s always been an unwritten rule in your relationship: Marc cuddles you, you cuddle Steven. But they’ve been talking, and maybe it’s time for that rule to change. (the author’s description was fantastic for this fic, so I just used that :) also!! this shit is so cute, I have cavities now)
Deserve by @softlybarnes
In which Marc never thinks he deserves comfort after sex, but you prove him otherwise, wanting him to know that he deserves just as much love and care as his alter. (smut plus hurt/comfort??? say no more babey)
Homecoming by @luke-o-lophus
You watched Marc die, unable to stop it. He came back, but sometimes, the memories of watching the love of your life die are too much to bear (this one is another hurt/comfort, but there is a pretty vivid description of a panic attack, so be warned!!)
Whatever You Want by @grippingbeskar
Steven finds your vibrator and wants to use it on you. (Steven goes from so fucking awkward to a soft!dom in this one, what more could you want tbh)
Hazy by @aphrogeneias (Marc x Reader x Layla)
In which Marc and Layla take such good care of you. (bi panic bi panic bi panic ohmygod this shit is good)
(I Want You To) Stay by @imarvelatthestars (Marc x Reader x Layla)
In which you and Layla coach Steven through a fucking spectacular night (god, to be sandwiched between the two of them?? the fucking dream)
while we untangle
Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader (implied Marc Spector x F!Reader) Wordcount: 2.9K Warnings: Explicit AF. SMUT. DID. Wounds. Oral. CUM eating. Sry. Summary: Things happen to Steven. He ends up with dates he doesn’t remember making. He finds his fridge full and fishes with two fins. There is an attractive woman inches from him and he should just shut up and take it as a sign from God or Gods. Whatever. A/N: wow i wrote this instead of working on wys because i hate myself. title from Rufus Du Sol's No Place. i know vague shiz about moon knight but this is my current headcanon of marc being aware of steven and steven just doing his best (lmao). idk if this is really spoilery.
Steven doesn’t quite recall when he started dating you. He does not remember how it happened. You just appear and he simply goes with it because you’re soft and warm and you call him by his name.
It’s a little like magic. He falls asleep and wakes up and you’re there.
“Hi,” you murmur by the side of his bed. His body is aching. His shoulder is screaming. He feels his bones bunching up against the thin shell of his skin.
“What?” He shakes his head. “Who-?”
Their first conversation (that he remembers) is just fragments of words. It is a series of cut-off questions.
Who? What? Where?
You lean forward so quickly he nearly misses it. A flash of your hair and your eyes glittering like fish scales in the blue dawn light. You touch his jaw and use your other hand to comb his sweat-damp curls back from his brow. He wants to say something because he feels naked in front of you - this stranger in his sweats and one of his t-shirts.
Who are you? Who are you?
Instead, he says: “I’m sorry…I didn’t expect guests. I would have cleaned…”
He would have. He would have made an effort. You smile at him and that’s when he notices the gash at your hairline. The strange bruising along your collarbone.
“Did we…?” he finally asks because why else would a girl be in his apartment - at his bedside. Your lips quirk and you shake your head.
“I’m - do we know each other?”
He really shouldn’t press his luck. Things happen to Steven. He ends up with dates he doesn’t remember making. He finds his fridge full and fishes with two fins. There is an attractive woman inches from him and he should just shut up and take it as a sign from God or Gods. Whatever.
“In a way,” you hum as you stretch your arms above your head. Your joints crack and that cut on your forehead beads with blood. A few hours later, he will notice that it’s gone. He will notice that marks on you never last longer than a day.
“In a way?” he echoes. He is lost in this conversation just as he is lost in most conversations. Everyone seems about five feet ahead of him at all times.
“Yes - in a way, but,” You shoot your hand out and grasp his own tightly. He notices his palm is covered in raven-black grease and you don’t seem to mind. “I suppose we should meet formally.”
You tell him your name and he repeats it - rolls it around over his tongue like a smooth marble. His accent is thick and often too chewy in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he even uses the term “accent” because shouldn’t it just be his voice? His tone. His.
He feels like he’s trying to shove himself through a narrow hole. Nothing fits.
***
He starts waking up with you - coming to with you - in weird places. One time, he’s restocking mugs etched with incorrect hieroglyphics and the next thing he knows he’s coughing up blood on a rain-soaked street. It’s thundering. The clouds spiderweb with lightning. There’s the smell of wet leaves and garbage and a neon Exit sign is blinking above him.
“Marc! Help me out here.” You’re a few feet away punching the hell out of a man in back. There’s a splash of blood. It splatters over your nose and chin. You’re in this tight suit that shimmers grey-blue in the rain. Weird. When your eyes meet his, you suddenly grimace. Your expression flits between seemingly concerned and incredibly irritated.
“Who’s Marc?” He rubs his forehead. His teeth feel loose in his mouth. “Wait - where are we?”
Wait. Wait. Wait. He’s always colliding into a disaster or conflict before he can confirm what it is. Where - when - what -
“Fuck,” you growl and then the man you’re fighting socks you right in the temple. You stumble to your knees. Steven doesn’t really think - he doesn’t have to - he rushes forward in some hopeless attempt at protecting you and - well - everything goes black again.
***
He wakes to the tinkling music of a Carnival. He’s got his hands wrapped around a pole with chipped gold paint. There’s a thousand colors blurring into a mosaic of blues and pinks and purples and reds. Yellow as buttered popcorn. Green and copper as scarab beetles. He can taste sugar on his tongue. Cotton candy. His stomach aches.
He looks down and sees the white mane of a wood worse. It’s uncomfortable between his legs. He blinks. He shakes his head.
“You okay?”
He turns to find you sitting - riding - next to him. You’re straddling a unicorn, which oddly seems fitting since he’s about 67% certain you don’t exist. There’s an unreadable expression on your face. A strange transformation. You go from cheerful to anxious and he feels as if he has interrupted something. You bite your lip and reach for his hand. You thread your fingers together as the carousel picks up speed - as it circles and whirs like a cyclone.
That terrifying, obnoxious jingle of music.
“Hi Steven,” you tell him, which he doesn’t understand. Why are you greeting him when you’ve obviously been with him for a while. Are they on a date? This must be a date. Did he drink? He swears it was 4 PM last he checked, but the sky is black-navy. Violet and midnight.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters as he clings to the pole with one hand as you hold onto the other. He leans his too-hot temple against the wet-cold surface of it. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t know what else to say.
***
His eyes flutter open and it’s day again. The midafternoon sun peeks through his heavy blinds. You’re sitting next to him - hunched over like a curled C. One of his heavy mythology books in your lap. You’re reading about Isis and Osiris and he wonders if all his pieces are scattered over the Earth. It would make sense. It would honestly be a relief. An explanation.
There’s a white bandage around your arm with old blood staining half of it. It’s practically brown. He sniffs a metallic tang in the air along with the harsh scent of antiseptic.
He lifts himself up gingerly. More soreness. More agony in his back and the constant headache that thumps at the center of his forehead. He leans into you out of reflex, his chest brushing your shoulder. He touches your arm - drags his finger down the bandage.
“I didn’t do that did I?” He can’t trust himself. He doesn’t know anything. He loses days and nights and you are the only constant in his life. The one unmoved variable.
You twist around to look at him. You’re visibly exhausted. He wonders when you sleep because he’s never seen you do it.
“No,” you assure him. They’re so close that your breath fans over his lower lip. They’re dating and they aren’t. “Dating” is the only word he has for it because he wakes up and you’re in his room or literally in his bed. Sometimes you haul him to a restaurant or coffee shop.
Eat, Steven. You’re very pale.
They’ve never kissed though. They’ve never done anything beyond you looping your arm through his as you take him around London. He hadn’t realized it until now, but every errand they go on has been for his benefit.
You need more shampoo. You need another jacket. You need to get your haircut. Do you want another fish so he has a friend?
You let him talk to you. You let him vomit his words all over you because he has no one else. His mum’s voicemail. His mirror. His mind. One minute, he’s spilling his guts to a living statue and the next he’s spilling his guts to you.
And you respond. You nod and agree or disagree or drop your chin into your hand and listen intently. You laugh when he says something he actually meant to be funny.
“You’re such a weirdo,” you tease in between sips of coffee. It makes his lungs expand to the point he can finally get a full breath in. He is wide awake.
He shifts on the bed. The springs squeak. His sheets are scratchy and he notices there are granules of sand in the folds of linen. Bloody hell and all that.
There’s a wrinkle between your brows as you watch him watch you. You don’t avert your gaze like so many others do when he makes them uncomfortable. He can’t help it. He forgets himself sometimes. You’re different. You meet his stare straight-on.
His voice is low and urgent when he finally asks: “Why do you take care of me?”
You suck your lower lip between your teeth. It turns a color and he has to stop himself from swiping it with his tongue - from digging his thumb into the flesh. “I promised someone I would.”
He should question that. Who?
You know who.
The voices have returned. Swelling and shivering at the back of his head. They distract him. Solid. Tempting.
You know her mouth. You’ve tasted it before just not as you. You’ve had her. You’ve felt her. She’s ours.
He doesn't know what to do. He’s aware of his own awkwardness. He’s aware that he often misses social cues even though a large part of him seems to understand them. He just can’t get there.
“Steven,” you whisper like a secret - like their secret - every fucking letter deliberate and compassionate.
He wants to feel this.
He surges forward and kisses you. His body does it before his brain even catches up. He grips the hinge of your jaw and crushes his mouth to yours. You squeak in surprise before relaxing - before allowing him to cradle your cheeks between his hands and continue.
It feels familiar.
His lips move against your lips. His tongue traces your tongue - teasing and caressing and it subtly changes from sweet and careful to frantic and dirty. Your hand is on his chest - right where his heart thumps. He scrapes his teeth over your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. He makes a demanding sound and pulls you closer.
He senses that he’s been at this threshold a thousand times previously. He has to move forward. He knows the steps. He needs to take you - plant himself inside you where he’d be safe. He’s been safe.
His hand palms the crown of your skull. He tilts your head to deepen the kiss. You respond gracefully - your own fingers now locked in his t-shirt. They trade kisses in his dusty room with all of his old books and white-noise sound machines and cheap cutlery. You sigh into his mouth - your breasts crushed against his chest. Your heart. His heart. Pound for pound. Sharing a rhythm. How much would they weigh? The bandage on your arm chafes the inside of his bicep.
You shiver and it surprises him - the fact that he’s capable of arousing such a sensation out of you. He wants to go further.
He wedges himself between your legs. He doesn’t know entirely what he’s doing and yet he does. He’s had to have done something like this before. Maybe, at school. His twenties? He should know though no distinctive memories come to mind. No images of teenage lust in a backseat or fumblings in a dark theater.
Still - he appears to be getting it. Gestures before thoughts. It’s like the act itself is already written on his bones - taped somewhere in his mind with instruction.
At some point, they get naked.
You are spread out on his pillows and he uses his hands to open your thighs. He watches your cunt - shiny and pretty in the afternoon light. There are bruises on your hips - along your ribs. He wants to ask, but doesn’t.
You already know, Steven. You saw her get them last night. Fighting. You have some too.
That voice that’s like his voice, but not.
He slips his fingers against the seam of your folds - nudging between them and watching the effect it has on you. He thrusts to the knuckle before twisting his hand so he can press his thumb to the peak of your sex. You’re so wet and hot and each jerk of his fingers makes you tighter. The repetitive clench of your walls as he eases you through it. The push of slick more erotic than anything he’s ever even dreamt of.
“Oh,” you moan softly. “Oh - shit.”
“I-I think - is that alright?” he stammers - his chest tight - his cock so hard that it juts against his stomach.
You nod furiously. You open your arms to him - come come come - be with me. He goes - capturing your mouth - tongue warm as it slides over yours in a desperate, messy tangle. Your hand circles his cock, grasping him tenderly. You stroke him slow as he fucks into your palm. He kisses you. He kisses your throat - your breasts - your cheeks. You lead him - let him in - and then the head of his cock is rubbing right up against your pussy. It’s furiously hot - making slick sounds as it slips through the seam of swollen flesh.
You stare up at him, lips twitching and kiss-bruised. He keeps his eyes fastened to your face as he sinks in too quickly. You stretch around him - nails digging into his shoulders. Your mouth parting. Oh - it’s like this.
You feel like home. You feel like him. He knows this. He knows the wet clutch of your sex around him. Vice-like. Murderous. He rocks down and you glide with him. He draws back until he’s nearly out of you before snapping forward - punching a moan from your lungs. A push and pull. He tilts his hips and you follow - knowing the ebb and flow of his movements like you’ve done this before. You fist a hand into his curls as you nip his jaw. There is the loud liquid suck of your body greedily accepting his cock again and again. It’s so crude that he can’t quite believe it.
“Steven - fuck,” and now he is acting without thought. He is allowing the insides of himself to take over. It’s like a dance that he is watching from a step away, but oh he feels every second of it. He savors the soaked clasp of your cunt. The smell of your sweat and your hair and your lush skin as it slaps against his.
You shove him away and he groans as he rears back on his heels. His pleasure is dismantled. It is interrupted. You rise up on your knees and kiss him hungrily - nearly swallowing his tongue before you turn around. You get on all fours - your grip taut around the bed frame. His gaze traces the lines of your body - the curve of your ass that hitches into his hip bones and fitting snug.
You know what to do. You’ve done it before. Our girl likes it like this.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
That voice unbearably deep and vibrating with power. It’s like heartburn in his chest - bubbling up his throat.
This is for you, Steven. Trust us. Trust us.
He takes himself in hand and guides it back into your spread, dripping cunt. He bottoms out and you respond beautifully - a fragile wisp of a sob as you blossom around the length of him. You bury your forehead into his pillow. You bite the blanket.
Steven has never been able to keep quiet, but now he is out of words. He grunts low, rumbling noises and sometimes: oh god - fuck - so good -
He hopes that it’s enough for you to realize that this is everything he’s ever wanted. This true connection when he’s always felt like he’s living behind glass. He’s grateful.
He reaches around to pluck at your clit - something he wouldn’t have known to do or hadn’t done before and yet he does. It’s imprinted. The second he touches the swollen nub of it, you seize up like you’ve been electrocuted - pleasure ringing through your veins and limbs and he meets it by grinding deeper into you and there are filthy words flying from your lips in heaving, breathless whimpers and Steven blushes bright red because he can’t quite believe he’s done this with you - even as his cock spits inside you - even as he fills you to the brim without wasting a drop. When he eases himself out, there is his own pearly seed sliding down the backs of your thighs. It seeps between your swollen folds, dripping onto his comforter, which he will never wash again -
He touches it with his fingers - mesmerized. The voice in his head is throaty and smug: do it, Steven. I know you want to. She’ll love it.
He listens. He flips you onto your back - mouthing at your throat and tits before he travels downward. He forces your knees apart and buries his face between your legs - lapping and sucking and devouring what he has done to you. You arch up - hips jerking against his face. His nose hooked enough to deliberately scrape against your clit as he licks from your fucked-open pussy.
You cry out, yanking at his curls until it stings and he’s sure he’s missing patches of hair. He won’t let up. He latches and remains there - his hands now under your ass as he lifts the bowl of your pelvis up - like a platter - like an offering to the Gods - overflowing with nectar - a ritual -
He’ll repeat it. Day in and day out. He will perform this.
His skin burns with arousal. A fever. You know it’s him doing what he’s doing as he feasts - as he suckles his own come from your sex. He does not know this and yet he does. Another lifetime perhaps. Another yesterday. All of his memories are wrapped in plastic and yellowed with age. Opaque. Potentially not his. But this is clear. This he is sure to remember.
He knows. He knows. He knows this and there aren’t any lost hours between them. It is one long day and one long night of this tryst where he doesn’t wake up with a broken jaw or bleeding gums. He does not question your presence or why his fish die or why you care enough to keep him alive when no one else seems to notice him. He’s Steven and you call him by that name.
POKER
Steven Grant x Reader x Marc Spector
word count: 3.7k
genre: angst, dark-ish themes, fluff, suggestive themes
warnings: implied smut, angst, mentions of stalking, everyone just being a mess, especially marc, obsessive behavior
summary: Your relationship with Steven is constantly strained by the presence of Marc's disdain for you.
author’s note: I tried to be careful to be conscious of the presence of DID on this property, but if I wrote anything that is offensive or ignorant, please please please let me know.
The restaurant’s staff did a poor job at masking that they were sending you looks of pity every so often. Much like you, they were wondering when you were going to give up and shamefully admit that you had been stood up. You twiddled with your freshly polished fingers and checked your phone often as you nibbled on cold appetizers. It kept you busy since you had already tried calling thirteen times. Yet, it took the tenth couple eyeing you with concern on their way out for the embarrassment to finally make a bed under your skin. You ordered the first thing you could pronounce, and afterward, left the restaurant gripping your to-go plate as you looked at your phone one last time.
This experience wasn’t new, but you were already tired of having to find a restaurant that hadn’t seen what you looked like when you were in denial. It’s not like Steven didn’t want to come. It was the fact that he and Marc’s schedule clashed, and you were always at the receiving end of Marc’s negligence—you considered it forgetfulness to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Your journey home was entirely suffocated by unrelenting silence until you went walking into the elevator of your building just to see Marc there, looking just as tired as you were. He saw you coming from where he stood, but no matter how many times his fingers pressed the button, the elevator kept them open as a punishment. He was forced to witness the way your body clung to the dress you wore and how the ends of the skirt grazed over your smooth skin to mock him.
“Hi, Marc,” you said. You could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that it wasn’t Steven.
“Hi.”
The ride up had never been so long and you weren’t sure how to bring it up until you just spoke. “Hey, um, could you let Steven know he missed our date? I’m not sure if he tells you about them—”
“Yeah, something came up for me.” He hadn’t noticed, but his shoulders were tight as he kept his attention forward until the doors opened.
You followed after him with your shoes following the path he made and finally noticed how he held his side on his way to his flat. “Are you okay? Do you want me to—”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” you murmured.
Your first mistake was thinking you could put your warm hand on his chilling, broad shoulders and not cause him to nearly leap out of his own body. You had touched Steven countless times. However, it was the first time Marc had ever gotten a sense of what it felt like for himself.
Still, he didn’t wish to savor it in the slightest. “Pretending to worry is what you do with Steven. Not me.” He recoiled from the heat so harshly that he was already at his door and into his humble home before you could take your keys out.
Marc never got to see the way your face fell or how you clutched your keychain and shoved the metal key into your door. You disappeared into your home, begging your tears to give you time to close the door before they got it all over your dress. All this was while Marc was eyeing a photo of you by the fish tank that you had given to Steven while he took off his shoes.
As he pretended to look over persimmons, Marc watched you from a distance as your soft lips mouthed the lyrics of a song while your fingers glided over the peaches. You made it too easy sometimes and for that, he was thankful. He could spend his weekend researching—that was the word he liked to use— while you were unaware.
You glided through the other aisles, and he was careful to keep his head low and stay a few steps behind you while watching the way you smiled at a store employee while asking a question. Your shining teeth made him frown even deeper as he gripped his shopping cart.
His frustration kept on building throughout the day as he watched you carry through your laundry list of errands. Everywhere you went, he was a step behind with enough distance to go unannounced but close enough to slip your wallet back into your tote bag while you left it in your cart to have a look at some home décor. You really should have been more cautious of pick pocketers.
Landing a punch to a stranger wasn’t how he liked to spend his Sundays. Neither was lying on his bed while you were showering at home. The cardigan you had left with Steven on accident was under his nose as he brought the fragrance into his lungs. He had your Sunday schedule memorized to a point where he was used to the feeling of wanting to resist snaking his hands into his tight pants as he thought about how your hands were rubbing your thighs while he was playing with a Rubik’s Cube. For Marc, hell was Sunday afternoons at 3 PM.
For you, hell was the bus ride home looking at your phone and all the piling missed calls and texts from Steven? You deliberately avoided opening the voicemails and the messages in hopes that you’d have more time to think about what you wanted to do. Your plan was to speak to him on Monday when you felt better, or at least when you could fake it better.
Your walk to the elevator was less eventful than the day prior, but that didn’t keep you from reliving the day before, especially when you saw Steven sitting crisscrossed next to your door while he read a book with a sand-colored cover. You would have ignored him while playing Marc’s words on repeat if he hadn’t met you at your door.
“Hey, Steven.” You were hoping to keep it short and sweet so you could send him on his way gently with a promise that you’d talk to him when you weren’t so fatigued.
“Hey.” He was already rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants with the book abandoned on the floor as he got up. “I tried to call you but—is your phone okay?” You were always so good at answering your phone. “Sorry,” he shook his head. “Sorry. I mean, ‘are you okay?’”
“I couldn’t answer, Steven. I was at work, sorry.”
You didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but that was the least of Steven’s concerns. “B-But what about dinner? We said we’d meet each other there. And I went—And I went and you weren’t there.” He was doing that thing where he was speaking much too fast to figure it out himself and in any other circumstance you would have thought it was endearing, but the crack of his voice nearly pressed your heart so hard it would have stopped beating.
“Yeah,” you let out a sigh while you dug through your purse to find your keys. “I went yesterday and didn’t see you. I figured Marc lost track of time or something.”
“Today’s not Saturday, is it?” he asked while he licked his lips anxiously.
You were pleased that fishing for your key gave you a distraction, since you couldn’t bear to see his face fall again while he experienced a crushing realization that he had already gone through two times before.
“I’m afraid it’s not,” you looked up at him with an evident crease between your brows.. “I’m sorry you were there alone. Marc didn’t leave you a sticky note by the tank telling you?”
“No-no, no, he didn’t.” He looked back at his apartment at the end of the hall like he could see through walls. “At least, I don’t think so.”
You bitterly laughed to yourself to shrug off the hurt that was making room for itself in your pensive thoughts. “I don’t think he likes me very much.” What you said out loud was really meant for yourself.
“No, no, that can’t be—He likes you.”
“Steven, don’t lie to me,” you tried to keep your tone light hearted, but your façade was slipping.
“I’m not.” His wide eyes were becoming glassy, and his lips tightened into a line as he tried to fix the damage. “I swear.”
You nodded while unlocking the door. “I’m gonna head in, okay? I’m a little tired.”
“Wait,” he took your hand and made you notice how his clammy arms were desperately shaking. “I’m sorry.”
Steven saw the way your face relaxed, and the corner of your lift lifted lightly for a moment. He watched you come close to then give him an electric kiss on his cheek that made his ears too hot for comfort.
“Please, get some sleep tonight.” You watched him close his eyes as he felt your hands hold his visage tenderly. Your thumbs carefully moved back and forth over his cheek. “You look pale.” You examined his face as you saw his frown deepen and chose to ignore it. “And tell Marc to take it easy.”
“Why do I get the weird feeling you don’t want to do this anymore? Like be with me. It’s on your face. Are you upset with me? I get it if you want to go into your flat and avoid me for the rest of your life—”
“Hey, hey, don’t say that. Just give me some time to sort this all out mentally first.” You were referring to your thoughts as your finger slipped into his dark hair to calm him down, but it only sent a shudder pouring down his spine like cold water while his knees almost gave in.
“Is this a break? Or a breakup? Bloody hell, are we breaking up?—”
You gave him another kiss, but on his lips. Your warm skin was on his mouth while your hand fondly stroked his neck. It nearly caused him to become entirely lightheaded. His eyes were blown open the entire time from the moment he felt your kiss. You pulled away to get one last look at him.
“No, we’re not.” You placed your forehead onto his as you tried to have him matched your breathing. “I just want some time, maybe one or two days, to think. I’m telling you this because I enjoy being honest with you. Just give me some time to think over some things, okay?”
Steven nodded fervently at your words.
“Alright,” you smiled. His face got warmer. “See you later, gator.”
“Laters, gators,” he whispered as he felt your hand slip out of his.
If Steven could properly chew out Marc, he would, but instead he was stuck yelling at a mirror while a disinterested Marc was asking him to surrender his body so he could start off his soon-to-be long night.
“No, you don’t get to ask me that without answering me first!” Steven pointed.
“Good, God, Steven. Calm down.” Marc looked as uninterested as ever.
“You did this!” Now Steven was pacing. “I don’t get it. You have so many photos of her like a bloody creep,” he grabbed one of the many in the bathroom drawer to wave around. “But you’re the one giving her a hard time?” Steven never figured out what was said when he was gone, but with the way you spoke about Marc and the way Marc spoke about you, it didn’t take much afterward.
“What does this have to do with me not telling you that I made you miss your date?”
“Everything!” His fingers combed through his hair as he tried to imitate what you did to him to calm him down. “For once in my life, I got the courage to ask someone to date me and you’re pissing all over it. You’re just as obsessed with her, but you don’t want to admit it.”
Why would Marc want to admit? That would mean that he’d have to also confess to how sour he was about Steven getting to you first. It didn’t make sense. He was under the impression that he’d get you and Steven would just have to follow along, as always. So while he looked at you sleeping with the white noise machine on, he gripped the spare key of your flat that was meant for Steven. He had found a way to forcibly turn his jealousy into a lack of trust that you had good intentions with Steven.
What was supposed to be no more than two days thinking about your relationship and Marc’s choice words turned into a seven. You had been so consumed by Marc’s accusation that you stewed in your thoughts for so long that you feared seeing Steven in passing on your way to work. You rose early and returned home extremely late. All the while, Steven spent his days at the gift shop anxiously checking his phone while typing and deleting messages that he hoped to have enough courage to send.
This brought him back full circle on Sunday, knocking on your door. Your brief look through the peephole wasn’t enough to prepare you to see him again. When you opened the door, you were met with a nervously still Steven wearing a suit that he seemed to be drowning in.
He must have not expected you to actually answer the door because once he saw you were still in your work clothes, he panicked.
“Bollocks.” He quickly pulled out the card that you didn’t know he was holding. “I falafel about what happened.” His eyes followed the Hallmark card’s words. “I’m sorry.”
He practically shoved a bouquet of flowers into your hands when he nearly tripped over his shoes trying to hand it to you. Your bewildered expression must have frightened him even further, since he was already reaching into his bag to pull out a box of chocolate. Another small box fell out in the process as he fumbled to give you the heart-shaped chocolate box. In utter panic, he brought himself to his knees to pick it up, but he stayed on his knees to give it to you while you were trying to balance the things he had already given you.
“Wait-Wait, Steven, honey, are you trying to propose?” you asked calmly as you tried to mask your panic.
“W-What?” he looked up at you from where he was on his knees with his once combed hair now disheveled. “No-no!”
You nodded.
“Do you want me to?” he asked.
“Jesus, no,” you giggled.
“It’s just a pin of a scarab,” he said as he opened the box. “for your tote bag,” he whispered the last part as he placed the box in your hand.
“I can’t accept all this.”
“But I haven’t even given you the peaches, yet.”
“Steven,” you tried to hold back your laughter while you placed the gifts on your kitchen counter as he waited at the door with bated breath. You returned to him and decided to cut him some slack instead of refusing his gifts. “Thank you. I—”
He looked at the palm of his hand, at the poorly scribbled checklist he had made just in case he forgot something.
“Have dinner with me, please,” he asked. “It’s at my place. New Gus will be there too. Nothing too serious—unless you want it to be.”
You took his hand and stroked them as you tried to calm him down from what he no doubt had rehearsed many times over. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed, since you’re looking so dapper.”
“I hope this all didn’t cost too much,” you spoke as you looked at the giant stuffed crocodile in the corner. Steven was more focused on how your lips moved with red lipstick painted over them that he hadn’t heard a word that came out of your mouth. “Steven?”
“Yeah?” he was still frazzled.
“Please, don’t tell me that Donna took the stuffed animal out of your paycheck.”
“I won’t,” he nodded.
“Steven!”
“This is our apology to you.”
“Our?”
“I’m hoping Marc is going to apologize, too. Eventually…” he looked off into space briefly. “Honestly, whenever. I’m still kind of lost with how this works.”
“Have you fed New Gus?” He didn’t even notice how swiftly you changed the conversation.
“Oh, no.”
“Poor thing is watching us eat while you haven’t fed him,” you began walking to the tank to retrieve the fish food but when it wasn’t in sight, you were already heading toward Steven’s bed to get it off of his nightstand. By the time you returned, there was a silence that filled the room that made you uncomfortable as you fed Gus. You could feel a firm set of eyes that let you know that Marc was staring.
“Hey, Marc.” You tried to keep your voice level.
“Hey.”
You turned to see him eyeing the takeout food that you had spent twenty minutes assuring Steven was delicious.
“He told me you wanted to say something.” Even as you returned to your seat to face him, he still hadn’t said a word, and you knew he wouldn’t if you didn’t speak up.
“Yeah,” he was struck by your scent since your perfume was scrambling his thoughts until he went completely silent for much too long.
“Look, if it’s gonna kill you, it’s fine. You don’t have to be here. I’m sure Steven can keep me entertained for the rest of the night.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him, so you were already heading back to New Gus—you really needed to pick a better name for him. Steven and Marc’s hands were the same, yet when he took you by your wrist, he felt colder.
“Entertain?” he whispered with a sickly smirk.
“That’s not what I meant—Look if you’re setting out to make me the bad guy—”
“You’re making it really easy to.”
“You’re the one being difficult. All I’ve ever been is kind to you.” He was pushing you over the precipice.
"I don’t need your pity.”
Your weeks of frustration and denying he was likely keeping Steven away from the dinners you planned were pouring over the fire and causing billowing smoke. “Why don’t you fucking trust me like Steven does?”
“I just can’t seem to get why you accepted his advances so eagerly.” He hadn’t gotten as loud as you were, but he was so, so close.
“For starters,” you tore his grip from your wrist. “He’s much nicer.”
“I can be nice,” he said as he got closer. He didn’t sound sincere, but rather like he was being challenged. “I-I can be nicer… funnier, better.”
“Marc, what are you going on about?” your eyes feverishly danced over his face in confusion. “Can we just go back to how it was before?”
“Like when we were just neighbors and Steven was following you like some lap dog,” he hissed so strongly you felt the wind on your nose.
“No, when I’d drop first aid supplies and pretended not to see the photos you have of me on your mirror,” you spat.
You should have seen it coming when he had gotten so close with his towering stance. But when Marc kissed you, it sent you walking back to catch your balance, and you were stunned. It was enough to have you pull back to have a look at him to see if it was actually Steven. Yet he wasn’t. You could tell by the look in his eyes and by the way he went in for another kiss. His lips took over yours as you still were trying to catch your bearings and remedy your confusion. His teeth eventually moved from your mouth to your neck as he held your head about by his jaw.
Marc could hear the shake in your breaths as you gripped the sleeves of his suit and bunched the cotton fabric into your fist. His sloppy kisses littered your neck and chest like acid rain and made you wonder how you had already made it to the kitchen counter. He went from holding your face by its jaw to running his hands along your arms, as he was already trying to venture to where your skirt and thighs met.
He went back to kissing your red lips and swallowing the whimpers that came from your mouth. He was only going deeper as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter to keep you grounded and stop the spinning.
Calloused hands started climbing up your dress and toying with your underwear before you had to catch him by his wrist and practically plead with your eyes. You didn’t want to go further and just wanted to talk to him, but he must have taken the hesitation for something else because he was already jumping to his own conclusions.
Just as quickly as it all started, his body slowly became stiff until his kisses decrescendoed into nothing but a whisper when his lips called out your name.
“Steven?” you pulled away. You felt the change in his posture and how quickly his hands tore from your body.
“S-Sorry.” He was taken aback by the position he had you in and cleared his throat as he peeled his hands from your body and tucked it into his pockets.
You climbed down from where you were and fixed your dress while he desperately tried to ask what had happened.
“Nothing you have to worry about,” you lightly dismissed as you grabbed your things. “It went fine. Thank you for the wonderful evening, but I’ve got to head in early since I’m taking Benny’s shift tomorrow.”
“Hey, don’t forget this.” He was practically sprinting to meet you at the door with the stuffed crocodile while you made sure the smile on your face was still there.
“Thank you. Goodnight.”
“Night.” he awkwardly drew closer to kiss your forehead before you left and slipped into your room down the hall.
Marc had you reeling the entire night until the sun swallowed the moon as you thought about the way your body quaked while he was devouring your neck and left wet hickeys in his wake. In another bed, Steven was toying with the Rubik’s cube as he thought about how he was going to fix things once more. Marc had made it seem like the only option was to love one when you had always wanted to try to love both.
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while we untangle
Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader (implied Marc Spector x F!Reader) Wordcount: 2.9K Warnings: Explicit AF. SMUT. DID. Wounds. Oral. CUM eating. Sry. Summary: Things happen to Steven. He ends up with dates he doesn’t remember making. He finds his fridge full and fishes with two fins. There is an attractive woman inches from him and he should just shut up and take it as a sign from God or Gods. Whatever. A/N: wow i wrote this instead of working on wys because i hate myself. title from Rufus Du Sol's No Place. i know vague shiz about moon knight but this is my current headcanon of marc being aware of steven and steven just doing his best (lmao). idk if this is really spoilery.
Steven doesn’t quite recall when he started dating you. He does not remember how it happened. You just appear and he simply goes with it because you’re soft and warm and you call him by his name.
It’s a little like magic. He falls asleep and wakes up and you’re there.
“Hi,” you murmur by the side of his bed. His body is aching. His shoulder is screaming. He feels his bones bunching up against the thin shell of his skin.
“What?” He shakes his head. “Who-?”
Their first conversation (that he remembers) is just fragments of words. It is a series of cut-off questions.
Who? What? Where?
You lean forward so quickly he nearly misses it. A flash of your hair and your eyes glittering like fish scales in the blue dawn light. You touch his jaw and use your other hand to comb his sweat-damp curls back from his brow. He wants to say something because he feels naked in front of you - this stranger in his sweats and one of his t-shirts.
Who are you? Who are you?
Instead, he says: “I’m sorry…I didn’t expect guests. I would have cleaned…”
He would have. He would have made an effort. You smile at him and that’s when he notices the gash at your hairline. The strange bruising along your collarbone.
“Did we…?” he finally asks because why else would a girl be in his apartment - at his bedside. Your lips quirk and you shake your head.
“I’m - do we know each other?”
He really shouldn’t press his luck. Things happen to Steven. He ends up with dates he doesn’t remember making. He finds his fridge full and fishes with two fins. There is an attractive woman inches from him and he should just shut up and take it as a sign from God or Gods. Whatever.
“In a way,” you hum as you stretch your arms above your head. Your joints crack and that cut on your forehead beads with blood. A few hours later, he will notice that it’s gone. He will notice that marks on you never last longer than a day.
“In a way?” he echoes. He is lost in this conversation just as he is lost in most conversations. Everyone seems about five feet ahead of him at all times.
“Yes - in a way, but,” You shoot your hand out and grasp his own tightly. He notices his palm is covered in raven-black grease and you don’t seem to mind. “I suppose we should meet formally.”
You tell him your name and he repeats it - rolls it around over his tongue like a smooth marble. His accent is thick and often too chewy in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he even uses the term “accent” because shouldn’t it just be his voice? His tone. His.
He feels like he’s trying to shove himself through a narrow hole. Nothing fits.
***
He starts waking up with you - coming to with you - in weird places. One time, he’s restocking mugs etched with incorrect hieroglyphics and the next thing he knows he’s coughing up blood on a rain-soaked street. It’s thundering. The clouds spiderweb with lightning. There’s the smell of wet leaves and garbage and a neon Exit sign is blinking above him.
“Marc! Help me out here.” You’re a few feet away punching the hell out of a man in back. There’s a splash of blood. It splatters over your nose and chin. You’re in this tight suit that shimmers grey-blue in the rain. Weird. When your eyes meet his, you suddenly grimace. Your expression flits between seemingly concerned and incredibly irritated.
“Who’s Marc?” He rubs his forehead. His teeth feel loose in his mouth. “Wait - where are we?”
Wait. Wait. Wait. He’s always colliding into a disaster or conflict before he can confirm what it is. Where - when - what -
“Fuck,” you growl and then the man you’re fighting socks you right in the temple. You stumble to your knees. Steven doesn’t really think - he doesn’t have to - he rushes forward in some hopeless attempt at protecting you and - well - everything goes black again.
***
He wakes to the tinkling music of a Carnival. He’s got his hands wrapped around a pole with chipped gold paint. There’s a thousand colors blurring into a mosaic of blues and pinks and purples and reds. Yellow as buttered popcorn. Green and copper as scarab beetles. He can taste sugar on his tongue. Cotton candy. His stomach aches.
He looks down and sees the white mane of a wood worse. It’s uncomfortable between his legs. He blinks. He shakes his head.
“You okay?”
He turns to find you sitting - riding - next to him. You’re straddling a unicorn, which oddly seems fitting since he’s about 67% certain you don’t exist. There’s an unreadable expression on your face. A strange transformation. You go from cheerful to anxious and he feels as if he has interrupted something. You bite your lip and reach for his hand. You thread your fingers together as the carousel picks up speed - as it circles and whirs like a cyclone.
That terrifying, obnoxious jingle of music.
“Hi Steven,” you tell him, which he doesn’t understand. Why are you greeting him when you’ve obviously been with him for a while. Are they on a date? This must be a date. Did he drink? He swears it was 4 PM last he checked, but the sky is black-navy. Violet and midnight.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters as he clings to the pole with one hand as you hold onto the other. He leans his too-hot temple against the wet-cold surface of it. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t know what else to say.
***
His eyes flutter open and it’s day again. The midafternoon sun peeks through his heavy blinds. You’re sitting next to him - hunched over like a curled C. One of his heavy mythology books in your lap. You’re reading about Isis and Osiris and he wonders if all his pieces are scattered over the Earth. It would make sense. It would honestly be a relief. An explanation.
There’s a white bandage around your arm with old blood staining half of it. It’s practically brown. He sniffs a metallic tang in the air along with the harsh scent of antiseptic.
He lifts himself up gingerly. More soreness. More agony in his back and the constant headache that thumps at the center of his forehead. He leans into you out of reflex, his chest brushing your shoulder. He touches your arm - drags his finger down the bandage.
“I didn’t do that did I?” He can’t trust himself. He doesn’t know anything. He loses days and nights and you are the only constant in his life. The one unmoved variable.
You twist around to look at him. You’re visibly exhausted. He wonders when you sleep because he’s never seen you do it.
“No,” you assure him. They’re so close that your breath fans over his lower lip. They’re dating and they aren’t. “Dating” is the only word he has for it because he wakes up and you’re in his room or literally in his bed. Sometimes you haul him to a restaurant or coffee shop.
Eat, Steven. You’re very pale.
They’ve never kissed though. They’ve never done anything beyond you looping your arm through his as you take him around London. He hadn’t realized it until now, but every errand they go on has been for his benefit.
You need more shampoo. You need another jacket. You need to get your haircut. Do you want another fish so he has a friend?
You let him talk to you. You let him vomit his words all over you because he has no one else. His mum’s voicemail. His mirror. His mind. One minute, he’s spilling his guts to a living statue and the next he’s spilling his guts to you.
And you respond. You nod and agree or disagree or drop your chin into your hand and listen intently. You laugh when he says something he actually meant to be funny.
“You’re such a weirdo,” you tease in between sips of coffee. It makes his lungs expand to the point he can finally get a full breath in. He is wide awake.
He shifts on the bed. The springs squeak. His sheets are scratchy and he notices there are granules of sand in the folds of linen. Bloody hell and all that.
There’s a wrinkle between your brows as you watch him watch you. You don’t avert your gaze like so many others do when he makes them uncomfortable. He can’t help it. He forgets himself sometimes. You’re different. You meet his stare straight-on.
His voice is low and urgent when he finally asks: “Why do you take care of me?”
You suck your lower lip between your teeth. It turns a color and he has to stop himself from swiping it with his tongue - from digging his thumb into the flesh. “I promised someone I would.”
He should question that. Who?
You know who.
The voices have returned. Swelling and shivering at the back of his head. They distract him. Solid. Tempting.
You know her mouth. You’ve tasted it before just not as you. You’ve had her. You’ve felt her. She’s ours.
He doesn't know what to do. He’s aware of his own awkwardness. He’s aware that he often misses social cues even though a large part of him seems to understand them. He just can’t get there.
“Steven,” you whisper like a secret - like their secret - every fucking letter deliberate and compassionate.
He wants to feel this.
He surges forward and kisses you. His body does it before his brain even catches up. He grips the hinge of your jaw and crushes his mouth to yours. You squeak in surprise before relaxing - before allowing him to cradle your cheeks between his hands and continue.
It feels familiar.
His lips move against your lips. His tongue traces your tongue - teasing and caressing and it subtly changes from sweet and careful to frantic and dirty. Your hand is on his chest - right where his heart thumps. He scrapes his teeth over your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. He makes a demanding sound and pulls you closer.
He senses that he’s been at this threshold a thousand times previously. He has to move forward. He knows the steps. He needs to take you - plant himself inside you where he’d be safe. He’s been safe.
His hand palms the crown of your skull. He tilts your head to deepen the kiss. You respond gracefully - your own fingers now locked in his t-shirt. They trade kisses in his dusty room with all of his old books and white-noise sound machines and cheap cutlery. You sigh into his mouth - your breasts crushed against his chest. Your heart. His heart. Pound for pound. Sharing a rhythm. How much would they weigh? The bandage on your arm chafes the inside of his bicep.
You shiver and it surprises him - the fact that he’s capable of arousing such a sensation out of you. He wants to go further.
He wedges himself between your legs. He doesn’t know entirely what he’s doing and yet he does. He’s had to have done something like this before. Maybe, at school. His twenties? He should know though no distinctive memories come to mind. No images of teenage lust in a backseat or fumblings in a dark theater.
Still - he appears to be getting it. Gestures before thoughts. It’s like the act itself is already written on his bones - taped somewhere in his mind with instruction.
At some point, they get naked.
You are spread out on his pillows and he uses his hands to open your thighs. He watches your cunt - shiny and pretty in the afternoon light. There are bruises on your hips - along your ribs. He wants to ask, but doesn’t.
You already know, Steven. You saw her get them last night. Fighting. You have some too.
That voice that’s like his voice, but not.
He slips his fingers against the seam of your folds - nudging between them and watching the effect it has on you. He thrusts to the knuckle before twisting his hand so he can press his thumb to the peak of your sex. You’re so wet and hot and each jerk of his fingers makes you tighter. The repetitive clench of your walls as he eases you through it. The push of slick more erotic than anything he’s ever even dreamt of.
“Oh,” you moan softly. “Oh - shit.”
“I-I think - is that alright?” he stammers - his chest tight - his cock so hard that it juts against his stomach.
You nod furiously. You open your arms to him - come come come - be with me. He goes - capturing your mouth - tongue warm as it slides over yours in a desperate, messy tangle. Your hand circles his cock, grasping him tenderly. You stroke him slow as he fucks into your palm. He kisses you. He kisses your throat - your breasts - your cheeks. You lead him - let him in - and then the head of his cock is rubbing right up against your pussy. It’s furiously hot - making slick sounds as it slips through the seam of swollen flesh.
You stare up at him, lips twitching and kiss-bruised. He keeps his eyes fastened to your face as he sinks in too quickly. You stretch around him - nails digging into his shoulders. Your mouth parting. Oh - it’s like this.
You feel like home. You feel like him. He knows this. He knows the wet clutch of your sex around him. Vice-like. Murderous. He rocks down and you glide with him. He draws back until he’s nearly out of you before snapping forward - punching a moan from your lungs. A push and pull. He tilts his hips and you follow - knowing the ebb and flow of his movements like you’ve done this before. You fist a hand into his curls as you nip his jaw. There is the loud liquid suck of your body greedily accepting his cock again and again. It’s so crude that he can’t quite believe it.
“Steven - fuck,” and now he is acting without thought. He is allowing the insides of himself to take over. It’s like a dance that he is watching from a step away, but oh he feels every second of it. He savors the soaked clasp of your cunt. The smell of your sweat and your hair and your lush skin as it slaps against his.
You shove him away and he groans as he rears back on his heels. His pleasure is dismantled. It is interrupted. You rise up on your knees and kiss him hungrily - nearly swallowing his tongue before you turn around. You get on all fours - your grip taut around the bed frame. His gaze traces the lines of your body - the curve of your ass that hitches into his hip bones and fitting snug.
You know what to do. You’ve done it before. Our girl likes it like this.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
That voice unbearably deep and vibrating with power. It’s like heartburn in his chest - bubbling up his throat.
This is for you, Steven. Trust us. Trust us.
He takes himself in hand and guides it back into your spread, dripping cunt. He bottoms out and you respond beautifully - a fragile wisp of a sob as you blossom around the length of him. You bury your forehead into his pillow. You bite the blanket.
Steven has never been able to keep quiet, but now he is out of words. He grunts low, rumbling noises and sometimes: oh god - fuck - so good -
He hopes that it’s enough for you to realize that this is everything he’s ever wanted. This true connection when he’s always felt like he’s living behind glass. He’s grateful.
He reaches around to pluck at your clit - something he wouldn’t have known to do or hadn’t done before and yet he does. It’s imprinted. The second he touches the swollen nub of it, you seize up like you’ve been electrocuted - pleasure ringing through your veins and limbs and he meets it by grinding deeper into you and there are filthy words flying from your lips in heaving, breathless whimpers and Steven blushes bright red because he can’t quite believe he’s done this with you - even as his cock spits inside you - even as he fills you to the brim without wasting a drop. When he eases himself out, there is his own pearly seed sliding down the backs of your thighs. It seeps between your swollen folds, dripping onto his comforter, which he will never wash again -
He touches it with his fingers - mesmerized. The voice in his head is throaty and smug: do it, Steven. I know you want to. She’ll love it.
He listens. He flips you onto your back - mouthing at your throat and tits before he travels downward. He forces your knees apart and buries his face between your legs - lapping and sucking and devouring what he has done to you. You arch up - hips jerking against his face. His nose hooked enough to deliberately scrape against your clit as he licks from your fucked-open pussy.
You cry out, yanking at his curls until it stings and he’s sure he’s missing patches of hair. He won’t let up. He latches and remains there - his hands now under your ass as he lifts the bowl of your pelvis up - like a platter - like an offering to the Gods - overflowing with nectar - a ritual -
He’ll repeat it. Day in and day out. He will perform this.
His skin burns with arousal. A fever. You know it’s him doing what he’s doing as he feasts - as he suckles his own come from your sex. He does not know this and yet he does. Another lifetime perhaps. Another yesterday. All of his memories are wrapped in plastic and yellowed with age. Opaque. Potentially not his. But this is clear. This he is sure to remember.
He knows. He knows. He knows this and there aren’t any lost hours between them. It is one long day and one long night of this tryst where he doesn’t wake up with a broken jaw or bleeding gums. He does not question your presence or why his fish die or why you care enough to keep him alive when no one else seems to notice him. He’s Steven and you call him by that name.
This. I do this
no better feeling than imagining your favorite fictional character doing domestic things with you. you’re at the mall shopping for new clothes??? they’re right there next to you helping you choose & being your best hype person. you’re cooking dinner??? they’re right there next to you, singing and humming along to the music you’re playing. you’re reading a book??? they’re laying on your lap enjoying the peacefulness of the evening.
There needs to be more (reader x moon knight system x Layla) out there
Care to join?
Pairing- Layla el Faouly x f!reader x Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley
This is my submission for @flightlessangelwings pride month celebration. I’m new to writing but this month is very special to me so I put my nerves aside and came up with this self indulgent fic.
Summary-Steven asks you about your feelings for Layla after she shows interest in you. Will this change your relationship?
Dialogue prompt- “Can I kiss you?”
CW-Explicit 18+MDNI, mentions of DID,eventual poly relationship,FF dynamics, talks about sexuality, kissing,cursing,light angst,fluff,thigh riding, smut,threesome MFF,oral sex female receiving, fingering, unprotected piv,piv cream pie
WC-3.8k
A/N- Layla is married to Marc and has been previously in an established relationship with the system. Reader is in an established relationship with Steven.Reader is not described or race coded. I will often write that the system can carry/pick up the reader and I am a plus size person who can not be carried by my partner but I like to believe that since they are superheroes they have superhuman strength.
Not beta read
***
Wednesday
You’re lying under Steven, your legs wrapped around his waist while you both try to catch your breath. You’re rubbing slow lines up and down his back as his hot breath blows on your neck.
“Love...that was… incredible.” He raises on his elbows to peer down at you with his sweat tousled curls on his forehead. You can’t help but fall in love with him every time you look into those deep brown eyes. He’s grown soft inside you but he refuses to move. He drops his head down onto your shoulder and lets out a deep sigh.
“Just give me a minute please.” You know he can be needy but the annoyance in his tone is concerning.
“You know I never rush you.” You say as you continue to trace lines up and down his back.
“God no! no! I wasn’t talking to you love.”
“Oh...” It was still weird knowing Marc was present sometimes. You haven't been intimate with him obviously not wanting to cross a line with Layla. You were with Steven and she was with Marc. You’ve been on a few dates with Jake but his shyness prevented him from fronting too often.
“I…well we have been meaning to talk to you about something.” You can sense his more than normal nervous behavior. “It’s about Layla.” You have been dreading this moment for months, the conversation you knew would come when she grew tired of sharing. She married Marc and later became established with Steven and Jake but according to Steven he’s not been with her since you met on your first day at the museum.
Surprisingly you took to his confession of having D.I.D very well. It took him several more weeks to reveal they are moon knight to which you also took in stride. It was the follow up conversation about the fact that he was technically married that you didn’t take lightly. It took you a week of reflection and a long conversation with Layla to convince you to give him another chance. No one has ever treated you like Steven and you didn’t want to give that up.
Steven often stayed at your place to give Layla her space, you knew she missed him but she always respected your relationship. When they were off doing khonshus bidding you would often have a girls night with Layla. Recently you weren’t sure how to grapple with the feelings you’ve been having towards her. You haven’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. There was no need to further complicate your already intricate relationship.
“Um…Steven, if I need to talk to Marc I would prefer we get cleaned up and put some clothes on.”
“Sorry love I didn’t mean to worry you, he’s not here anymore.” You relax a little but can’t help but worry about the impending conversation. He climbs off you and you shudder at the sudden change in temperature, no longer having his body as a barrier to the cool air in your flat.
“Let me run us a bath and we can talk while we get cleaned up.” The prospect of a relaxing bubble bath with your boyfriend would normally have you on cloud nine, but you’d rather not have such an uncomfortable conversation in such an intimate setting.
“Steven, if you’re going to break up with me I’d rather you do it now,I can just take a shower when you leave.” Your legs are curled underneath you and all you can do is stare at the rumpled sheets desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
“What!” Steven is standing in the doorway of the bathroom wide eyed and horrified at your assumption.
I told you not to bring it up after sex, she’s too vulnerable right now.
“Will you buzz off Marc!” Steven strides towards you and is back on the bed in moments. He bunches you up with the sheets and pulls you into his lap sideways. “ I’m not breaking up with you
Love, I just have something I need to talk to you about and I am a bit nervous.” You look up at him with tears brimming your eyelids and you can all but see his heartbreak.
He cradles your head and kisses you slowly as if it’s your first time. “This is not at all how I wanted this conversation to go.” He stands from the bed with you still in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He gently sets you down on the toilet as he begins to draw a bath. You can’t help but admire his arms and his broad back as he leans over to test the temperature of the water. He places your favorite lavender bath bomb and chamomile bubble bath in before unraveling you from the sheets and helping you into the bath. You’re enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling as he finds his place behind you pulling your back into his chest.
“I’m just gonna start and I don’t want you to say anything until I let you know I’m done.” You nod your head and you’re thankful you’re not facing him as the tears begin to well again.
“Layla has…really enjoyed your company lately when we’re out.” He pauses and tightens his grip around your waist. “She said it helps her not worry about us so much.”
“I enjoy her company to Steven.” You know he told you not to speak yet but you figured he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.
“She’s actually grown quite fond of you and thought that you might feel the same about her.”
A long silence passes between you and all you can hear are the ragged breaths of Steven and the crackling of the bubbles. You don’t think Stevens even realized that he hasn’t said he’s done speaking and is waiting for you to respond.
“Of course if you don’t feel the same then we don’t need to mention it again, I’m sorry I even brought it up. It's just that Marc pressed on about it…and actually he’s quite fond of you too and well that’s besides the point…I don’t even know what I’m saying any…”
You turn in the bath and stop his rambling with a kiss to his lips as you cradle his face in both hands.
You rise in the water so you can settle yourself in his lap. You lean in to kiss him again and he parts his lips to let your tongue slide in. This slow languid movements leave you both breathless as you pull away for air and can’t help but giggle at his face covered in bubbles.
“I thought Layla had grown sick of this situation and wanted you to end things with me.” He begins to say something but you place a finger on his lips, prompting him to wait just as you had.
“I am still getting to know Marc and Jake but obviously I can’t help but be attracted to someone who looks like my boyfriend.” You know Steven would accept all parts of you but it still made you nervous to open up to him.
“Steven…I’ve been with women before you, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I’ve grown to like Layla a lot and I wasn’t sure how to come to terms with my feelings.” Steven releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“That’s wonderful love…Layla was quite nervous that you wouldn’t feel the same and she didn’t want to pressure you.” Steven is beaming up at you as if you’ve presented him a million dollar grant to research Egyptian mythology. “You know I love and accept you for who you are.”
You’re suddenly feeling exposed as the bubbles dissipate and your mind starts wandering. What does this mean? What does she want? He said something about Marc. Would Jake be involved? Would Steven be upset?
He can see you spiraling before his eyes. “Talk to me love.” He starts rubbing soothing circles on your arms.
“Where do we go from here?” You don’t even recognize your voice as you look anywhere but his eyes. He grabs your chin with his forefinger and thumb and pulls you into a chaste kiss.
“Whatever you want to do we will do…no
pressure.We all want you and what’s best for you, as long as you’re safe and happy that’s all we care about.” You wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug, feeling this most content you have in years.
Nice job hermaño, I knew you could do it.
***
Friday
You’ve never been this nervous before to just have dinner with Layla. This was something you did every week while the boys were out but this time felt different. You’ve torn your room apart looking for the right thing to wear, finally opting for a simple blue babydoll dress with a flowy skirt. You wear your hair in its natural state and put on some light makeup to complete the look.
It’s just dinner, relax
You’re standing in front of the door of their shared flat trying to calm your nerves as you smooth down the front on your skirt. You can already smell the wonderful aroma wafting under the door as you begin to knock. Layla opens the door and pulls you into a hug but you’re apprehensive to hug her back act normal.
“Hey hon, come on in, I'm just finishing up the pizza.” You enter the flat and set the bottle of red wine you brought on the counter and take in the sight of delicious homemade pizza.
“I’m making Marc’s favorite for you, he insisted.” She looks up from placing the toppings to wink at you. Why did he insist?
“Oh…everything smells wonderful.” You’re standing nervously at the kitchen island fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I brought some wine,would you like me to pour you a glass?”
“I’d love some, you know where the glasses are.” She points absentmindedly to the cabinet behind her while she finishes topping the pizza. You pour two glasses for the both of you and once she places the pizza in the oven all attention is on you.
“How has work been? Steven said you’ve had to put in some late night shifts.” You’re staring at her wine stained lips and the curls that frame her face. How does she always look so effortlessly beautiful? She has an inquisitive look on her face and you realize you haven’t answered her.
“Umm…it’s been fine, I’m sure you know how much of a pain Donna can be.” You're focused on the wine in your glass instead of her piercing gaze.
“Hey…I can tell you’re nervous and I know Steven talked to you. Nothing has to change. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” It makes her heart swell noticing you’ve put more effort into your appearance than you normally do for your weekly dinner.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous…I care about you a lot and I want to do this right.” She takes your hand in hers and you finally look up and meet her eyes. Neither of you say anything, whatever is happening between you can go unspoken for now.
You both finally relax into a comfortable calm as you eat Pizza and finish the bottle of wine. As the night progresses it feels more and more like how things are supposed to be. Conversation flows freely as you both relax on the couch gossiping about work or sharing your thoughts about the boys.
“I know they look different but Marc and Steven both get that furrowed brow when they’re focused.” She shifts on the couch to face you mimicking that stern look they get. You burst into a fit of laughter at the accuracy.
“Okay but have you seen Jake's serious face?” You squint your eyes and muster up the best version of Jake that you can manage. She leans in close,her lips just a breath away.
“That face is much more adorable than Jake's.” Suddenly you're feeling hot,neither of you pulling away from your close proximity. The tension that’s been building for months is threatening to burst as you wait for her next move.
“Can I kiss you?” She’s practically touching your lips when she asks and you wish she would just do it but you know it’s in her nature to wait for you.
“Yes please.” In a moment her lips are on yours as her hands caress your neck and trail down your jaw. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, feverish in the way her lips slot against yours. She pulls away and you chase her lips with your eyes closed and lips parted trying to catch your breath.
She brushes her thumb along your bottom lip and looks at you as though you hold the world in your eyes. “Your lips are so soft.”
“Do it again please.” The desperation in your voice is unfamiliar but she doesn’t hesitate to oblige your request as her lips crash into yours, you part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in as you moan into her mouth. She pulls you slightly into her lap as you straddle her thigh. Your lips move in tandem as she grabs your waist. You can feel your panties soaked as she grinds your clit over her jeans.
“Sweetheart…you gonna come like this, I’ve barely touched you?” You’re a panting mess as your climax approaches and she doesn’t relent as she trails kisses down your neck,leaving love bites along the way. She moves one hand from your waist and slowly starts trailing your inner thigh. Her fingers dance along the hem of your underwear almost reaching where you need it the most.
The floorboard creaks and you both halt your movements. You look up from the couch and see Mr. Knight standing near the window, the moon still illuminating him in his stark white suit. He’s masked and you can’t see the expression on his face but his chest is heaving and you can’t help but notice the growing bulge in the front of his pants.
You slide off Layla suddenly embarrassed at the state she had you in. She grabs your hand before you can stand and sends you a reassuring squeeze.
“Steven…care to join?” She says in this sweet honey tone. Yet he doesn’t falter, as if he’s frozen to the spot.
Steven move your goddamn feet or I’m taking over the body.
Snapped from his trance Steven begins to walk towards the couch. He takes a seat beside you so that you're situated in between them. He’s yet to reveal his face but his demeanor is definitely your Steven as he begins rubbing soothing circles on your thighs. The combined touch of their hands is all too real and this is territory you’ve never covered before.
“Are you okay with this Love?” Steven is always the observer making sure that this is truly what you want. You slowly nod your head.
“I need you to use your words honey.” You turn your head to Layla and the pet name she’s used many times before holds more weight in this moment.
“Yes this is okay…as long as Steven is…”
“Yes I’m great love this is perfectly alright.”He cuts you off before you can finish. You can’t help but giggle at his sudden burst of enthusiasm.
“Steven…why don’t you give her a kiss to calm her nerves.” Steven grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently tilts your face to him. He withdraws his mask and you can see his pupils blown wide. He kisses you softly as though it’s just the two of you in the room. Two sets of hands are on you as Layla leans against your back leaving hot kisses along your neck.
A soft hand trails up your inner thigh as another cups your breast over your dress. You kiss and bite at Stevens neck as you palm his erection through his pants. He whimpers in your ear as he bucks his hips into your hand. A soft finger pulls your panties to the side and rubs along your slick folds. You drop your head to Stevens shoulder gripping his arms for purchase. She dips two fingers dip into your entrance and you whine into his neck as you begin to rock your hips.
“You’re doing so good for us sweetie.” Layla coos in your ear. She withdraws her fingers from you and you whine at the loss. She holds her fingers up to Stevens lips and taps on them lightly, he takes both fingers in his mouth never breaking eye contact as rolls his tongue around coming off with a loud pop.
“Tastes so good love…why don’t you let her have a taste hmm.” Your brain is short circuiting at the sight. “Yes.” It’s all you can manage with your voice barely above a whisper.
“I think the bed would be better for that…don’t you think?” She says as she takes your hand to stand. Your body is no longer in your control, you can’t feel your legs beneath you but you know you’re moving towards the bedroom. Layla at your front and Steven close behind.
Steven retracts his suit and begins to undress when you enter the room. Leaving him only in his boxers, you can see the strain of his cock against the fabric where a wet spot has formed.
“I think you two are a bit overdressed.” He stands at your back pulling your straps down your shoulders letting your dress fall to the floor revealing your green matching lace set. He moves behind Layla pulling her shirt over her head as you work on the button of her jeans. He slides down her pants and kisses her shoulder when he stands.
This is so not fair
Callate pendejo
Steven does his best to block out the sounds of his head mates but doesn’t shut them off completely. He wants them to see this.
“Lay down against the pillows Steven.” He lays down on the bed with his legs spread wide and his hands at his side. She directs you to lay against him facing her while she sits between your legs. You're shaking from the anticipation and he begins rubbing soothing lines up and down your arms giving you goosebumps. She grabs the hem of your underwear and gently lifts your hips to slide them down.
“Is she always this wet for you?” She smirks at him as she drops her head down between your legs, licking a stripe through your slit. You arch your back at the sensation and Steven moans as you press further into his hard cock. He pulls your knees back to hold your legs open as she dips her tongue into your slick heat. Your whimpers and moans of her name are muffled as Steven swallows them with his mouth on yours.
“She does taste good.” She rocks back on her heels and pulls you up into a kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips as she dips her tongue into your mouth. You start to slide your hand beneath the band of her panties but she stops you.
“Tonight is about you sweetheart.” She’s definitely in control and you decide not to push. “Take off your boxers.” Steven practically rips them trying to get them off as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it so big, the angry red tip leaking precum all over his stomach.
She coaxes you back to lean against him and grabs the base of his cock causing him to gasp. She drags the tip along your dripping folds and Steven lifts you slightly as he guides you down onto him.
“Oh fuck…Steven it’s too much.” He’s not even all the way in and from this angle he’s hitting something devastating inside you. “Shhh love you can take it just relax.” Your cunt flutters around his thick cock causing a guttural moan from him. She straddles you both and you sink to the hilt. She places her hands on Stevens chest as she rides you grinding her hips into yours. Your mind has gone numb as she fucks you into Steven, each roll of her hips catches on your clit and slides you up and down his length.
“M’so close.” Steven chokes out from behind you as his grip tightens on your hips and his pelvis bucks slightly. She reaches between your bodies and begins rubbing tight circles on your clit as she leans in close and kisses Steven. He picks up his pace slamming you down on his cock over and over as he arches his back lifting the both of you.
“Right. There. Please . Don’t. Stop.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust and you come undone; she grabs your face, pulling you into an awkward three way kiss. Every nerve in your body is alight as she doesn’t let up on your clit, you don’t know if this is the same orgasm or a second that has tears streaming down your face. You clench down on him as he comes with a loud groan shooting hot ropes of cum into your core.
“You did so good, sweetheart.” She kisses you deep as you try to control your cries and aftershocks.
As you come down from your high you realize you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your side facing Steven as Layla plants small kisses on the small of your back. Steven places a soft kiss to your sweat soaked forehead and rolls out of bed.
“I’ll be right back love.” He retreats to the bathroom as you hear the water running.
You turn to face Layla and she can see the worry on your face. “What’s wrong hon? Was this too much?”
“No it’s not that it’s just…you didn’t get very much attention and I feel bad.” She grabs your neck and pulls you into a soft kiss.
“There’s always next time.”
Next time
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.
Happy pride 🏳️🌈
Softy Jake》
Daylight
pairing (s): jake lockley x reader
word count: 1.2k+
warning (s): fluff, jealousy, and lots of fluff
moon knight masterlist
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
His heart raced when you smiled.
Jake could not believe what was happening to him. Seeing a beautiful smile on your face, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, scaring him a bit with the power you had over him. You were so pretty and so kind, and sometimes it made him worry that someone would take advantage over your kindness. But your big heart was one of the many things that he adored about you, and he would not change it for the world.
He was not supposed to feel this way.
He felt so undeserving of you, and it was as if he was dragging you into his darkened life. He had nothing good to offer you, and it would be a lie if he say he was not afraid of hurting you. He was not used to love and affection, but every time you said you were in love with him, his heart melted and a huge smile found its way on his face. He was happy with you.
You were like an angel in his eyes. He could not believe that you were in love with him. He thought you deserved someone like Steven, who would know how to treat you better than he could, being the sweetest one among them. But you fell in love with Jake, and not anyone else— It sent pride wrapped around his chest every time you looked at him with so much love in your eyes. Only him.
“I got you flowers!”
No one had ever gotten him flowers before. It was strange to feel so appreciated like this, but he liked it, especially when you looked at him like he had given you the moon and the stars.
“I’m supposed to get you flowers, Y/N.”
“You did.”
You responded casually, and he could only smile. He did get you flowers every day of the week, knowing how much you loved the gesture. And if he would kill to see you happy, getting you flowers every day was not a trouble to him. But of course, you would want to return the favour once in awhile.
“Do you like the flowers?”
Jake’s heart soared. He nodded, pulling you in for a kiss to show how much he loved the flowers you got for him.
“You could give me a dead rat and I would still keep it forever.”
He said, making you laughed at his words. Oh, how could someone be so perfect? He questioned himself every time he saw your smile.
“No, you deserve all the pretty things in the world. A dead rat isn’t pretty now, is it?”
You tilted your head a bit, grinning at him. Jake would die from the amount of love you were giving him, but he would not mind as long as he got to have your love.
“You’re the prettiest.”
A sly smirk was dancing on his lips, as you hid your face in his chest, flustered at his compliment. But then you looked up at him, a shy smile was on your face, as you caressed his face.
“Well then, it means that you deserve me.”
He believed you. Perhaps it was hard to tell himself that he deserved you, but now he never really questioned in anymore. He knew you would always come running into his arms, showering him with your endless love and adoration.
Jake had never seen you angry. He started to believe that you were incapable of getting angry. You got annoyed at people sometimes, but never once did you blow up in anger. It was odd to know that you were very different from him, but it was a good difference.
However, he finally knew that you were capable of getting angry.
It happened when he was with you in the bookstore. Both of you were holding hands when you entered the bookstore, but then you got distracted by the books and let go of his hand like you always did. Jake could only sigh, shaking his head as he started to look for you. He could tell that you did not even notice that you had wandered alone, being too engulfed in your excitement.
“Um, hello?”
He frowned as he turned around, only to find a woman who was smiling at him. He did not even try to hide his annoyance. He just wanted to find you, and now this woman was bothering him.
“Are you looking for something? Maybe I can help you.”
“Do you work here?”
“No, but I can help you.”
She quickly said, and Jake almost rolled his eyes at her. He knew what she meant, with a flirty smile that she was flashing at him since he looked at her. He shook his head, not wanting to ruin his good mood by being annoyed at a stranger.
“I’m looking for my girlfriend.”
He blatantly said, his eyes wandered around the bookstore, still trying to spot you. He thought she would leave, but she put her hand on his arm instead, taking him by surprise.
“You’re funny. I like you.”
She chuckled, and Jake was more than annoyed. It did not help that he could not find you, and now this woman would not stop flirting with him. Before Jake could say anything else, someone slapped her hand away from him. His eyes widen when he realised it was you, his sweet and kind girlfriend.
“You’re touching my boyfriend.”
Anger was dripping from your voice, and Jake had never heard you speak that way before. You stood in front of him, as if you wanted to hide him from the woman’s eyes even if it was impossible since he was taller than you. But the thought of you being so protective of him was fluttering his heart.
The look in your eyes was frightening but the woman did not budge. She sent you a smile, thinking of it as a joke.
“It’s not a big deal—“
“It is. Now stop staring at my boyfriend before I break your nose.”
At your threat, her smile dropped and she left without any other word. Jake could not believe his ears. Did his beautiful angel just threaten to break someone’s nose? He was a little bit worried to know that you could get angry if you wanted to.
“I already told her I was looking for my girlfriend.”
You looked at him, softening your gaze as your anger disappeared. Suddenly, you were all smiles and giggles again, as if you did not just threaten to hurt someone a few seconds ago. Jake took your hand in his, not wanting to lose you once again.
“I’m sorry that I let go of your hand. I didn’t notice.”
He grinned at you, still not believing what just happened. You knew what he was thinking, and you just rolled your eyes. He mentioned it once that he really wanted to see you angry, but you just laughed at him. It seemed like it was his lucky day.
“I’ve never seen you so angry before.”
“I wasn’t angry, Jake.”
“You were. You were going to swallow her whole if she didn’t leave.”
You just smiled, kissing his cheek softly. Jake let out a sigh of content, glad to know that you loved him so much that you would fight someone for him. It was shocking, but he loved it.
“That’s because I love you.”
Your declaration of love for him always caught him off guard, leaving him smiling like a fool in love. But nothing could compare to when you smiled, love bursting into flame in his chest.
His heart raced when you smiled.
.•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•.
a/n: I promise you I'm a Steven's girl but the idea of Jake being all soft on me and me alone makes me so happy <3
Perfect For Me (Steven Grant x Reader)
Words: 2.2K
Warnings/Themes: Angst,Self-hatred, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluff, light nudity (non-sexual)
Characters/Pairings: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector
liavaleska asked:
Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are doing great. Can I request something where reader comforts Steven Grant when he is feeling insecure about his body? Ty❤️
A/N: Sorry it took me a while to get this up! But here it is and I hope you enjoy it. It came out a tab bit angstier than I intially wanted but I'm quite proud of this one! Let me know what you think :)
Tired eyes mindlessly watched the little goldfish bob around its tank. The only sound filling the apartment was that of the tank’s filter. Rain pattered against the windows. Each door that opened or closed in the building had her peeking at the door through the tank. It was a quiet evening. As it had been for the past few days, nearing two weeks.
Nearly two weeks of silence. All because the other occupant of the apartment was hardly around anymore. Something was up with one of the boys. She had hoped one of them would have confided in her. But they are alters of Marc Spector. Mr. Secret.
The notion of her husband keeping secrets saddened her. It wasn’t hard to suspect that something was wrong. Steven would be up before her and leaving for work earlier than usual. Before he would wrap himself tighter around her when her alarm would go off, begging her to stay in bed for a few more minutes.
He had also picked up the habit of jogging. At first, she had been happy for him; happy he had found a healthy hobby. But now she’s questioning how healthy it really is. The bags under his eyes darkened with the passing of each day. Getting up early, going on jogs, and working as Khonshu’s personal plaything, had to be tiring. Not to mention she didn’t really see him enough to confirm that he had eaten that day.
“At least you’re around, huh, Gus?” She murmured, chin resting on her palm. The fish swam into his pyramid. A groan left her as she hung her head. Great. Even the fish didn’t want to spend time with her. Pushing out of her seat, she decided it was time for bed. The clock on the wall read 1am.
A quick glance at her phone showed that her messages had been read. But there had been no response.
‘Hey, love. Just wondering when you’ll be home. Any ideas for dinner?’
Read at 7:30pm.
‘Hey, again, you’re probably busy so I wrapped up dinner for you. Chinese takeout, your favorite! Love you <3’
Read at 10:46pm
With a heavy heart, she typed out one last text.
‘Going to bed now. Love you, darling’
She didn’t wait for a reply and stuck her phone on the charger. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at the empty bed. This would be the sixth night in a row that she would be going to bed by herself. The cold, white duvet laughed up at her. Sniffling, she padded over to the closet and pulled out one of Steven’s hoodies, and tugged it on. His scent filled her nose but didn’t bring the comfort she craved. Rather, it broke the dam holding back her tears.
She wished she could help him. Wished he let her help him. Wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in whatever he was going through. If only he would just let her in. Her teeth bit into the soft flesh of her lip as she tried to stifle the sobs. Curled up on the bed, she hugged Steven’s pillow to her chest.
Keys knocking against the door had her freezing. The door slowly creaked open and heavy, tired footsteps entered the apartment. The sound of a duffle hitting the floor broke her out of her trance and had her shooting up.
“Steven?” The figure outlined by the light of the fish tank shuffled over to the bed, standing at the foot.
“No, sorry…” Marc said, voice low and, dare she say, sad. She quickly flicked on the lamp on her nightstand, beckoning him towards her.
“What’s wrong, Marc? Are- are you guys okay?”
Marc was silent for a few heartbeats, his silence giving her time to think of every possible thing that could be wrong. Steven doesn’t love her anymore, Khonshu’s asking too much, they have some terminal disease… Her lip wobbled more with each new possibility.
“No… No, we’re not okay.” Marc whispered, “Steven doesn’t want me to tell you… but I don’t think he’s okay.”
He sounded so tired, and his eyes didn’t even come up to meet hers as he spoke. Whatever was wrong, it had been going on for a while and it’s become too much for Marc to handle. With a frown, she grabbed his hand to tug him onto the bed.
While she wasn’t in a romantic relationship with him, Marc was still important to her. He was like a brother to her. Without him, she wouldn’t even have Steven.
“Tell me, Marc… Tell me what’s wrong,” she begged softly. If he closed the door now after letting her get a toe in, she might completely break down. He sagged forward with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
“I just wish I could have protected him better… All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know this has been hurting you too, but I don’t know how to help him. He won’t eat; he runs until we have blisters… Hell, he’s been fronting during almost every fight and I can’t make him give me the body…”
It was as if once the words started pouring out of his mouth, they wouldn’t stop.
“The only reason I’m fronting now is that I think he was just too exhausted to…” The sigh that left him was far beyond his age. It was the sigh of someone too tired to continue. “You gotta help us, Y/N… You gotta help Steven.”
With a tear-streaked face, she nodded.
<><>
Marc had showered and changed into Steven’s favorite pajamas before climbing into bed. Y/N lay on her side of the bed, wishing that it was her husband she was falling asleep next to. She wanted to hold him close, to protect him from the dangers of his own mind. She could only hope that when she woke up, it would be Steven kissing her awake as he used to.
Her sleep was a light and fitful one. An odd form of sleep paralysis. She could hear the sounds of their apartment, and Marc’s heavy snores next to her. But she couldn’t move. Worry and fear gripped her body like a vice.
Time seemed to still be flowing as one moment she was hearing Marc’s snores, then the next Steven’s much softer breaths. Unconsciously, her hand drifted toward her husband. Her love. Her partner who needed her help.
She couldn’t be sure if her hand ever touched him. Because it was his strained whispers that had her fully conscious. The lamp in the living area was lit and he stood in front of a full-length mirror.
“You overstepped, mate. I told you not to tell her.”
She blinked heavily, unsure if this was a dream or not. A quick hand over his side of the bed told her that it was not and that he hadn’t been gone for long.
“I don’t care! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here with a big bloody scar on our chest from that fight! Or the other dozen scars everywhere else!” His voice started to rise.
She couldn’t help but stare at his back as he whispered furiously into the mirror on the other side of the apartment.
“She’s not gonna… she wouldn’t want a human scratching post. Y/N deserves more than… this. I mean, look at us…” He inhaled a shuttering breath. His strong hands gripped the edge of the standup mirror. “A million scars, rubbish bags under our eyes… gross stretch marks, unflattering dad bod.”
His final whispered confession had her finally jumping out of bed.
“I just wish I could be the man she deserves.”
She gave him no time to react before she slammed into his back, wrapping her arms around his middle and bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.
His breath caught in his throat, shame filling him. He could feel her sobs more than hear them. Gods, he made her upset. That had been the last thing he wanted to do, but Marc’s words from earlier rang through his head.
“You’re hurting her. Leaving early, coming home late, not making love with her, and keeping the lights off when you do. It’s hurting her. She told me so.”
A sob forced its way from his throat, and hot tears fell down his cheeks. His teeth bit harshly into his lip as he bowed his head, unwilling to look at the reflection of Marc’s pitying look.
“I’m so sorry…So, so sorry.” His hands grasped hers over his chest, right over the scar that had started this whole thing. She shook her head, whimpering into his shirt.
“No, please, Steven.” She took a shuddering breath, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad; or upset with you… I’m upset for you.”
His eyes screwed closed, his lips pressed into a line to suppress his cries.
“I wish I could take this pain away from you. I wish I could love these thoughts out of your mind. You do such an amazing job of protecting me; I wish I did a better job at protecting you.” She pulled her hands from his to drift to his sides and gently turned him to face her.
He kept his head bowed. The shame, the self-hatred, the ugly expression on his face, it wasn’t something she needed to see. The flinch he gave when her gentle hand cupped his cheek was uncontrollable. Her hand dropped back down to her side.
“Steven, let me help you. Whatever you’re trying to keep from me, whatever it is you are trying to hide, I will still love you. Nothing will ever make me not love you; nothing will ever make me think you are undeserving. You are the only man in this entire universe that I will ever love.”
He didn’t flinch when her hand touched him this time. Instead, he pressed his tear-stained cheek into her palm. They both let out heavy breaths. A hand littered with scars he hated so much, gripped her waist. The other, just as scarred as the right, cupped the back of her neck and he brought their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, love. I just... I don’t know how to… how to let someone help. But I know I need it.” Steven swallowed the lump still stuck in his throat. “I am truly fortunate to have you be the one to help me, though.”
“I’m even luckier to have you,” She whispered before leaning forward to press her lips to his. His grip tightened and he pulled her flush to his chest. Flames followed in the wake of her fingers tracing up his stomach to rest on his chest, lovingly stroking the raised skin of the scar. His heart was thundering and he was sure she could feel it under her fingertips.
Salty tears blended on their skin, hiccupping sobs breaking from his sweet lips. As if touching glass, she wiped his tears away, cooing and shushing him. Chocolate eyes locked with hers. Walking backward and not breaking eye contact, she tugged him by the hand towards the bed. Steven followed obediently while wiping his tears with his sleeve.
The bed was cool against her skin as she leaned against the pillows, opening her arms for him. The air was thick with tension as he stood still, watching her. The stifling air was broken when he pulled his shirt over his head with shaking hands. His body is on full display in the dim lighting. While the suit heals wounds, it doesn’t erase scars.
It didn’t seem possible, the amount of love and acceptance in her gaze. It made his breath catch in his throat and warm goosebumps break out over his skin. Wishing for him to be in her arms, she made grabby hands for him. The action made his lips quirk up.
Slowly, he crawled in between her legs and she sat up to wrap her arms around his middle. Soft lips ghosted over the scar as her hands smoothed over his sides. His head was nuzzled into her hair and his arms wrapped around her back.
After breathing each other in, she leaned back and guided him to rest his head on her chest. His strong arms constricted around her middle. Her socked foot caressed his calf while her lips kissed the top of his head.
“If I get too heavy, I can move.” He couldn’t help but mumble. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and trailed down his back. Painted nails lightly scraped over his skin, leaving a trail of more goosebumps.
“If you dare move, I’m going to handcuff you to myself and swallow the key,” she threatened.
Steven let out a breathy chuckle and relaxed more into her. The patterns she was tracing into his skin were hypnotic and slowly, his eyes began to drift closed. A low sweet hum filled his ears.
As he focused on her fingers, he realized she wasn’t just doodling random patterns. It was letters. Words.
‘I love you’
‘Perfect’
‘Strong’
Tears pricked his eyes once more. He tilted his head to press a lingering kiss to her collarbone.
“I’ve got you, Steven. I’m not going anywhere. Not when I’ve got the perfect man for me in my arms.”
Sugar || 10
Masterlist || Part Nine
Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader
Word count: 3.2k
Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Steven says immediately after his admission. He doesn’t even give you time to react.
“I’d rather be your boyfriend.”
He stands and starts pacing in front of the couch, carefully stepping around the cushions and pillows scattered on the floor, left there after vacuuming the crumbs from the chairs.
“I haven’t even told you what happened, and as soon as I do, you’re never going to want to speak to me again,” he continues to ramble, scenarios playing out in his head—none of them ending happily for him, you’re sure.
All the while, you’re still caught up in what he said to you.
“I’d rather be your boyfriend.”
That’s what you want, isn’t it? And yet, you feel strange.
The words repeat in your head, threatening to overshadow this past weekend and Steven’s alarmed state.
“You know what? I didn’t mean it. Sorry to inconvenience you. I’ll just see myself to the loony bin now.” He starts to walk away, heading for the door.
He’s actually going to leave.
Your hand shoots out, grabbing his before he can get far. “Steven, wait.”
He stops, his hand twitching in yours, unsure what to do.
“Let’s just…try this again,” you say, tugging him back down onto the couch. He didn’t actually want to leave, it seems. He just doesn’t know what to do, overwhelmed by whatever happened and the unplanned admission.
“I’d rather be your boyfriend.”
You push the words away. Even if Steven genuinely meant them, coming on the heels of a blackout that has him more scared than before renders them almost meaningless.
“I told you everything I know. Now it’s your turn,” you say, and Steven tenses even more.
“I-I don’t know if I—”
“You came here because you needed help. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. No matter what, okay?”
Steven stares at you, nervous.
“What’s the first thing you remember?” you ask softly, squeezing Steven’s hand.
“Are we just…skipping over the embarrassing thing I said?” he asks, trying to tease, but his body is still tense, and his smile is more of a grimace.
You smile at him, trying to think over the heavy thudding in your chest.
“We can talk about that too if you want. After you tell me what you know.” You rest your other hand on top of his, cradling it between both of yours.
Steven looks away, his face flushed.
Then he takes a shaky breath and tells you everything.
He tells you about the strange dream that possibly wasn’t a dream at all. He mentions waking up in a strange town and the odd man who sent people chasing after him. Steven says he doesn’t remember how he got away and that some of the details are fuzzy.
Throughout the retelling, you get the sense that he’s holding something back, but you have no idea what it could be, not with how open he’s currently being.
“What was so strange about the man?” you asked.
“He was…weird, ya know? Talked like a cult leader or something,” he answered, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Why were they chasing you?”
“They thought I had something. Some artifact? Definitely don’t have anything like that, though.”
Steven couldn’t even tell you where he was.
It was an outrageous story, to be sure. You’re once again tempted to put some sort of tracker on him in case this happens again. Maybe you can ask…
“It couldn’t have been real,” Steven concludes at the end of this tale. “It had to have been a dream, right?” He looks at you, desperate, though for what answers you don’t know.
But you’ve never been in the habit of lying to Steven, and you won’t start now.
“Did it feel like a dream?” you ask. You feel confident it wasn’t, but Steven needs to accept it himself before the two of you can move on to finding a solution.
“No,” he answers quietly, sounding defeated and perhaps a little afraid. You pull Steven into you, wrapping your arms around him.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise. I’ll look for doctors or psychiatrists again. Something.” You hold Steven for a moment longer, relishing his presence, and he yours, when something occurs to you. “That strange man,” you begin slowly, making sure you have Steven’s attention. “Do you think he’ll come after you?”
After what Steven told you, if this man sent people to chase after him on the assumption that he took something, there’s no telling what lengths he would go to.
Steven tenses under your hands before pulling away from you.
“He wouldn’t. Couldn’t,” he says, though you don’t know if he’s trying to convince you or himself. “He doesn’t even know who I am. And if I didn’t even know where I was, there was no way he could follow me. And I don’t even have the bloody scarab he wanted! He’s got no reason to find me.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything. Whatever the artifact is, this scarab Steven mentioned, if it’s valuable enough, some black market dealers will go to any length to ensure their payday.
Instead of saying anything to Steven, you smile and try to appear relieved.
“Let’s not worry about that, about him, okay?”
You don’t doubt that Steven’s telling you the truth about his blackouts, but you can’t help but wonder how someone like him could get involved in business like that.
Skipping the background check was a bad idea.
You immediately scold yourself for the thought.
You know Steven. You trust him. Whatever happened had to have been some sort of mistake.
It had to.
You and Steven didn’t talk about what he said. With everything he told you, you figured it best to wait for that conversation.
Instead, you make sure he eats something and, remembering his schedule, get him ready for work tomorrow.
When you ask if he wants to stay the night with you, he practically jumps at the chance. Then he hesitates, suddenly looking nervous.
There are a few things still left unsaid.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I promise,” you tell him with a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Alright,” Steven says softly, staring at you with tenderness filling his gaze.
In the morning, Steven isn’t beside you.
Not again.
You check the sheets, searching for his warmth, but find none. It’s almost become a routine at this point.
“Steven?” you call out, heartsick. He’s not in the en suite; the door is left open, and the lights are turned off.
You don’t want to leave your bed, afraid of what you might find. Or rather, what you might not.
But then—
“Downstairs,” called quietly back up to you.
The sound that escapes you would have made your face heat with embarrassment if you weren’t so relieved to hear Steven’s voice. You rush out of bed, not caring about your appearance. He’s seen you like this before anyway so what did it matter?
Steven is in the kitchen, sitting at the table, surrounded by the remnants of his making breakfast.
“Still warm,” he says, pushing a plate toward you. “Just finished up a few minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” you ask, sitting across from him. Why did he make you wake up without him?
He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You wait, but he seems to rethink whatever was about to come out and remains silent.
Turning to the plate in front of you, letting Steven think, despite how nervous his silence makes you, you look down at the plate he prepared for you. It’s simple. Pancakes topped with the bananas you had browning on the counter. You top them off with the syrup he’d left on the table and dig in.
“I don’t think we should get involved,” Steven blurts, the words coming out in a rush that leaves you choking on your food.
“W-what?” you manage between coughs.
Steven stands and starts pacing in a loop around the table. “I know what I said last night, but you… After this weekend, you shouldn’t want to even be around me.”
“Steven—” you try to interrupt.
“Something’s definitely wrong with me, and who knows where I’ll end up next or what’ll happen or if there will be some other shady man with a bad haircut—”
“Baby, stop,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm, bringing him to a stop.
Steven stares at you, holding his breath.
“Baby, we’re already involved,” you tell him. You’ve been involved since he agreed to meet you to go over the terms of your arrangement. And not once since that meeting have you ever thought about ending things between you. You’ve only grown more attached.
Steven shakes his head but doesn’t pull away from you. “We shouldn’t be,” he argues weakly.
“I want to be.”
His breath catches, and his eyes darken.
You know what to say next, but the words catch in your throat. You’ve been fighting your feelings for so long now. It’s like your mind is trying to stop you from going any further. You’ve protected yourself from any solid romantic feelings for years, causing you to balk at their rising.
This could end badly, a dark, scared part of you argues. He could hurt you. Break your heart.
You’ve always listened to that voice. It’s worked out well so far. That’s what you’ve always thought, at least.
But you don’t want to listen to it anymore.
“I want to be your girlfriend,” you admit, breathless, like your body couldn’t find the air until you said the words.
The words trigger something in Steven, all the fight visibly leaving him.
And before you realize what’s happening, Steven’s lips are on yours, crashing into you with a fervor you haven’t seen before.
You kiss him back just as fiercely.
“You don’t mean that,” Steven sighs, his lips brushing yours.
“I do,” you pant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him back into you.
You want him even closer, but the angle is all wrong—him towering above you while you’re still in your chair. For now, though, it works, and you don’t want to let him go for a moment, even if it would be to somewhere more comfortable.
Eventually, you and Steven calm down. The kisses turn soft, lingering, instead of the gnashing of teeth and tongues it started as.
“Don’t go to work today,” you say softly, pulling away to look Steven in the eye. You don’t know if you can ask that of him, if you should, but you don’t care.
You want Steven with you. Forget everything else.
His face flushes as he looks down at you. “Okay,” he agrees immediately. “Do you…have something in mind?”
You take Steven in, pupils blown wide, blending into the brown, kiss-swollen lips, his mouth open, panting slightly. You can’t help but smirk a little, guessing his thoughts.
“We need to talk,” you say, standing and stepping away. You need to clear your head, and distance is likely the only thing that will help.
“Talk?” Steven asks, confused.
“If you want to do this, if you want to be more than my baby, things will be different. We’ll need to talk about it first before anything else,” you explain.
Steven frowned. “How different?”
You give him a gentle smile and take his hand, squeezing it. “Just different. Good different.”
You leave him to clean up the kitchen and call in sick to the museum as you return to your bedroom to make yourself more presentable. Giddiness fills you, knowing Steven still wants you after running out of bed and with syrup on your face.
When you go back downstairs, Steven is in the living room, having replaced all the cushions and pillows you had strewn across the floor. He’s staring over the back of the couch at the stairs, waiting for you. He gives you a tentative smile that you easily return.
He reaches for your hand as you round the end of the couch, pulling you down beside him, so close you’d be in his lap if you shifted your legs just a fraction closer.
“Romantic relationships are harder,” you start, needing to say it, to remind yourself, but also to make sure Steven realizes it. You’re giving him an out should he decide he needs one. Much like when you went into detail about your expectations of him as a baby, you want him to know that he doesn’t have to agree to this.
“Are you sure you want to be involved in that way? There’s no going back,” you warn, because there won’t be.
Once this line is crossed, there’s no taking it back for you. You know yourself too well. If this doesn’t work out with Steven, if being your boyfriend—and potentially anything else in the future—is too much, he could never go back to being just your sugar baby.
You will either have all of Steven or none of him.
Steven squeezes your hand, the flush returning to his face.
“I’ve sort of…already told people you were my girlfriend.” He ducks his head in embarrassment but doesn’t try to hide from you. “So, yeah. Very sure I’m sure.”
“You what?” you ask, a little stunned. “Who did you tell?”
“People at work,” Steven starts, sounding apologetic. “Donna was going on about how I couldn’t get a date. So I told her, actually, I’m dating an amazing woman, thank you very much, and she’s too good to be around the likes of you.”
“Did you really say that to her?” you laugh.
“Well, not that last bit. Didn’t actually want to get fired. I wasn’t sure if I should have tried to explain that you pay me, so it just kind of slipped out.”
“You should have told me. I would have put Donna in her place.”
Steven smiles affectionately at you. “I know you would have. But it was alright in the end. She didn’t have much to say after I showed her the pictures of us in Germany.”
You laugh again. “Good!” You loved that trip. You can’t wait to run away with him again. Then, you ask, “Did you tell your mom I was your girlfriend?”
He shakes his head. “But I talk about you enough. I’m sure she suspects.”
“Maybe we can call her again,” you suggest, remembering the one call—or rather, voicemail—you sat in on, how Steven was so excited to have you talk to his mother.
A tenderness filsl Steven’s eyes. “I’d like that.”
You take a moment to envision what all this could mean. What your future with Steven could look like.
It excites you.
“So first things first,” you say, finally ready to go into how things would change once he’s no longer Steven Grant, sugar baby, but Steven Grant, boyfriend. “Obviously, you can keep whatever I’ve given you so far, but I won’t be paying you anymore. That includes your bills.”
“I was never doing this for the money anyway,” Steven assures you, and that surprises you a little. The two of you have never spoken about why he agreed to be a sugar baby even though he’d never done it, never even had it on his radar.
Then again, it wasn’t typically a question you asked any of your babies. The answer was always the same: they did it for the money. Either they wanted it or desperately needed it. People don’t become sugar babies because they want to soothe the loneliness of the wealthy elite.
“Why were you doing it then?” you ask quietly, unable to guess the answer and unsure if you want to know but need to ask anyway.
Steven flushes again. “Well, when a woman like you said she wanted to take me to dinner, I wasn’t inclined to say no.” He gives a flustered, delighted laugh, remembering the day you asked him out. “And then we got to talking, and I liked you. Really liked you. And you liked me, which was shocking, I must say.”
He runs his thumb across your knuckles, taking a moment before continuing. “When you asked me to be your sugar baby, I figured if that was the only chance I was going to get at being around you, then I was going to take it.”
You’re both pleased and stunned by his admission. To know he was interested in you since the beginning—and not for your money, but just you—makes this feel like a dream. Surely, you are still asleep and will wake up to an empty bed, Steven gone.
But you know you’re awake. Steven thinking the only way to be with you was by being your baby wouldn’t break your heart so much if you weren’t. It hurts because you know it’s true.
Had Steven refused your offer and said he’d rather date you and act like a normal couple, you would have dropped him then and there, never tempted to see him again. It wouldn’t have mattered what you saw in him in those early days, how much you saw yourself in him; you would never have broken your self-imposed rule against traditional dating and relationships. It’s only now, months and overflowing—overwhelming—feelings later, that you’re finally willing to give it, give Steven, a chance.
And now, sitting here with him, you don’t know what to say. A breathless “Oh” is the only thing able to escape your lips because the knowledge that he has only ever seen you leaves you dumbstruck.
Steven must somehow know what you’re feeling, though, because he squeezes your hand, still clutched in his. Then his free hand reaches up and lays on your cheek, thumb lightly stroking it. His eyes don’t waver from yours as he leans in.
This kiss is different from the one in the kitchen. There’s none of the urgency or desperation. It’s soft, gentle, almost chaste, like Steven is trying to tell you something without words.
You guess at what it could be but are afraid to let the thought settle. Things are just beginning with you and Steven. There’s no rush to do anything. If he wants to tell you whatever he’s trying to through touch, you’ll happily wait until he can find the words.
And then, so unexpectedly you can’t help letting out a surprised sound, Steven gently pushes you down onto the couch. He braces himself on his forearms, keeping most of his weight off you. When his lips move along your jaw, you let out a gasp.
“We haven’t finished going over everything,” you say, clutching Steven’s shirt—not to push him away but to keep him close.
Steven lifts his head and grins down at you. “I think i can figure out how to be your boyfriend. Or do you have a list for that, too?” he teases, and your face warms ever so slightly.
“I might,” you mumble. Though now, you’re not sure you need to give it to him.
“You can tell me about it later, then, yeah?” Steven chuckles.
“Yeah,” you agree as you slide one hand up into his curls, pushing his head down so you can kiss him again.
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FOR SCIENCE | the project proposal
In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...
Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (3.2k+)
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: descriptions of mental illness, depictions of DID, fetishization of mental disorders (DID), potentially unethical scientific practices, no smut in this part NOTES: again, please don’t read this if you’re concerned at all with research ethics, as this is NOT a good demonstration of scientific procedures and studies. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!
next part →
Marc Spector’s psyche was a psychologist’s wet dream.
Three distinct personalities, completely separated from each other, all occupying the same host body. At one point, all mutually unaware of the others, but now living together in solidarity and (relative) cooperation.
Meeting Marc Spector was a happy accident—but meeting a man with a clearcut case of Dissociative Identity Disorder as a Professor of Psychology? Now that was just pure, dumb luck.
You had met Steven Grant first. You’d run into him at the British Museum during a university-sponsored visit. Your interaction had been brief, but it was memorable for you nonetheless—there was just something about those soft brown eyes and dopey, shy smile that melted your heart.
Imagine your surprise when you accidentally ran into that same man on the bus, only for him to introduce himself as Marc with a midwestern American accent and a cold, calculated gleam in his stare. He was forward and confident—very much unlike your previous encounter with him. When you called his bluff and swore you’d interacted with him under the guise of Steven, he pulled you aside and gently tried to justify the confusion.
“It’s—I have this...condition. It’s—have you ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder?”
You had tried hard to fight your smile.
“Yeah, I’m familiar with it.”
It was only revealed to him—after his winded and lengthy explanation—that you had a doctorate degree in clinical psychology and specialized in mental disorders.
Steven’s curiosity was piqued, and Marc silently hoped you’d be able to shed some insight into the functioning of his fragmented mind. You quickly established an easy friendship, somewhat reminiscent of a relationship between a client and therapist—although you knew and cared for each other on a much deeper and more intimate level.
Several months later, you were finally introduced to the most elusive alter within the system—Jake Lockley.
You began to spend the majority of your free time with the men—all three of them seemed to be relatively taken with you. Steven was sweet, Marc was shrewd, and Jake was steadfast. It was sometimes difficult to conceptualize that they all shared the same physical body with how differently they behaved.
It hadn’t started as a project—genuinely, truly, it hadn’t. It wasn’t your intention to be so captivated by those big brown puppy-dog eyes or the softness within his smile. And the feelings you had for him—for all of them—were real, and raw, and indisputable. You would never, ever, ever do anything to make them feel uncomfortable or jeopardize your relationships in any way.
Which is why this was such a bad fucking idea.
Your nails drummed against the side of your porcelain coffee mug as your nervously chewed on the cap of your red pen, making a futile attempt to focus on grading the research report in front of you, but your attention was clearly elsewhere. Your eyes kept darting to the clock on the wall across from you, watching the second hand tick away slowly. The coffee shop was playing gentle soothing acoustic songs, the smell of cinnamon lingering in the air, but even the coziness wasn’t enough to shake your nerves.
“Hey, there, Doc.”
Your head perked at the sound of a familiar voice, a warming hand clapping your shoulder as Marc Spector walked to the other side of the small table and sat down across from you. You groaned at his greeting, pulling your reading glasses from your nose and setting them on the table in front of you.
“Marc, I swear, if you call me that one more time, I’ll—”
He threw his hands up in mock surrender, although he was smirking slyly at you.
“Alright, alright, jeez—what’s got you wound up so tight, huh?”
He reached for the paper on top of the stack in front of you, reading off the title aloud.
“An In-depth Investigation Into the Underlying Psychological Causes of Erectile Dysfunction in Men Under 50.”
His face contorted in a look of disgust.
“Jesus—that’s gotta be the most boring fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard.”
You watched as his eyes fluttered briefly, his posture sinking and his features softening. When his eyes regained focus, he shook his head, huffing.
“Bugger off, Marc—I think it sounds plenty interestin’.”
Steven smiled graciously, offering the packet back to you. You accepted it tiredly, throwing it atop the pile of what seemed like an endless supply of mediocre student submissions that had yet to be graded.
“Thanks, Steven, but Marc’s right—my brain’s fried. I swear, if I have to read another shitty case study about men whose dicks don’t work, I’ll gouge my eyes out.”
The man chuckled at your confession as you shoved the stack of papers into your briefcase clumsily, snapping it shut without a second thought and letting it fall back to the floor beside your table. You carefully picked up your mug and took a long, slow sip—your coffee was barely lukewarm, at this point, as you’d be sitting at the cafe for hours, working quietly as you patiently waited on your friend’s arrival.
Although Steven was blissfully oblivious, Marc was observant. His consciousness pushed to the front, studying you carefully—your white-knuckled grip against your cup, your shifty eyes that were looking everywhere but at him, the tension in your shoulders and nervous bouncing of your leg.
“Alright—what’s wrong?”
Your gaze snapped over to him where he was sat with arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in suspicion. You tried to force a smile in an effort to cover up your uncertainty.
“Nothing’s wrong, Marc. Promise.”
You held his gaze intently, trying to convince him with your half-hearted response. His stare didn't waver, and after a few brief moments, you had to look down, overwhelmed with the intensity of his scrutiny.
“Alright, let’s try that again. Y/N—what’s wrong?”
You let a long, exasperated sigh, running a tired hand down your face. This had been weighing on you for a few days, at this point, and you still weren’t sure if you could handle the emotional labor this conversation would require.
“It’s true, nothing’s—nothing’s wrong, per se, I just—I just need to talk to you. I’ve—I have this idea—”
“Like—a work-related, science-y idea? You want Steven? Or—I can try my best to help, but sometimes you get excited and start talking really fast and I can’t keep up, but—”
“No, Marc, it’s not—I mean, it’s not really science-y, but like, also—it kinda is? I don’t know how to explain it, but I really need to—”
“I mean, whatever it is, you seem pretty worried about it, so obviously it’s important, and—and I just wanna make sure we’re giving you whatever response you need, or, at least—”
“Jesus, Marc, if you’d let me finish.”
You clipped, and his jaw snapped shut instantaneously, somewhat taken aback by your outburst. You were normally so controlled, practiced with your expressions, so seeing any sign of emotional imbalance was startling.
Guilt immediately flooded your stomach after you lashed out—you buried your head in your hands, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths in an attempt to quell your rapid heartbeat.
“Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean—this is just... I’m not sure how to go about this.”
You felt the featherlight brush of calloused fingertips against your forearm, coaxing your face away from your palms. When you finally lifted your head, Steven had returned, his eyes soft and reassuring. He pulled your hand into his, squeezing briefly before rubbing his thumb comfortingly across your knuckles.
“S’alright, love, truly. Take as much time as you need, and—and if there’s anythin’ you need from us, it’s yours. Just—whenever you’re ready.”
You tried to ignore the butterflies flitting in your stomach at Steven’s gentle promise. You inhaled once more, before finding his eyes.
“This—I need to talk to all three of you. Can you—are you in a place where you can all be co-conscious?”
Steven’s lips turned up at the corners at your thoughtfulness. He received verbal responses from both Marc and Jake—a confirmation that they were both actively listening.
“’Course. We’re all here. Is—do you have a preference, as to who you’d like to speak with?”
You returned his smile, offering a slight squeeze to his hand.
“I mean—since you’re already fronting, might as well stay, huh?”
Steven blushed, trying to fight the giddiness that came from your validation. He quickly steeled himself, reminding himself that you were struggling to open up to him.
“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, then, yeah?”
You cautiously pulled your hand away from his, mostly to keep yourself grounded and get out what you needed before you second-guessed yourself.
“So.”
You cautiously began.
“I had this—this idea. And it’s—it sounds crazy, and I get that, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, especially because—well, I just feel like this is something that could have damning effects on the entire field of psychology, with both practical and theoretical applications, but—that doesn’t mean—I don’t want you to feel obligated by any means to agree, or—or to feel pressured into anything, and I definitely don’t want you to think that—that I’m using you, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth, I swear, and—”
“Y/N.”
His tone was soft, a quiet interruption from your rambling, and your eyes widened in concern. However, he offered you a reassuring nod.
“Just tell us what it is, yeah? We’ll go from there.”
You nodded slowly, squeezing your eyes shut, before beginning again.
“There’s this huge debate in psychology. It’s pretty much the basis of a lot of our research—the whole nature versus nurture debate. Basically, it’s all about how much of our personalities can be attributed to genetics versus how much can be attributed to our life experiences.”
Steven was listening intently, leaning forward into your words.
“Well, it’s—it’s a concept that’s really difficult to research, because, well, we don’t really have a basis of comparison. The best thing we have to go off of is when identical twins get separated at birth and grow up in different places. Or, at least—that was the best we’ve had up until this point. Does—does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
He assured, nodding in acknowledgement. You only hoped the other two alters were keeping up.
“So, basically what I’m getting at here, is, well—you, and—and all three of you, really—Marc and Jake, you guys provide a really, really unique opportunity, because, well—you share a body. So, physiologically, you’re completely identical. The only thing that’s different about you is who you are, so—your life experiences and memories and things like that. You’re—you’re like the perfect example of how our experiences shape our beings.”
“Right. Right.”
Steven followed your train of thought carefully, brows furrowed. You took a deep breath. This is the part you were dreading.
“So, I had this thought... you three boys are so vastly different from each other. Like, really, really different, and—and you each have your own preferences, things like that, but—but you still have the same body. In my Abnormal Psych course, we’re studying intimacy and desire right now. So—so what I was wondering was about your—your sexuality. Like, to what extent are your sexual preferences due to your biology rather than your cognition.”
Steven blew out a shaky exhale, though he tried not to appear perturbed by your words. His mind was silent—he could feel the intense focus from his alters, now hanging on your every word.
“What if there was a way, to, you know, test, how different your sexual preferences are? And to test and see how your arousal is different, or the same, based on locations of stimulation and things like that?”
Bloody fucking hell.
In a split second, Marc was fronting, Steven slipping back into the headspace, completely overwhelmed and unsure of what to say or how to react. You noticed the abrupt switch, and after recovering from the brief whiplash, you felt panic spur within you. You’d scared him away.
Marc’s brows were furrowed, like he wasn’t completely picking up what you were putting down.
“So, what exactly are you suggesting?”
You closed your eyes.
“I guess—what I’m suggesting is that you—you help me research. You—you let me study you, each of you, independently, to see—to see how different your sexual behaviors and preferences are.”
“Like—like a questionnaire, or something?”
Marc questioned, but when you shook your head, eyes casting downwards, it suddenly dawned on him. Steven’s departure made sense. Everything made sense.
“So... so lemme get this straight.”
Marc made a stopping motion with his hand, gesturing for you to pause.
“You—want to have sex, with me—with us... for science?”
“Well, I mean, it—it doesn’t necessarily have to be with me, I could—we could find someone else, if you’re more comfortable, and—and I could just observe, or—”
“So you’re a voyeur, now?”
You jolted and Marc’s vulgarity, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings to make sure no one was listening in on your conversation. Luckily, the cafe was relatively deserted at that point.
“No! No, that’s not—I’m just saying, with what I’m suggesting, it—it would make the most sense for the researcher to—to be more hands-on, but that’s...”
Your voice trailed off, staring at a speck of grime on the table, trying to calm the rapid racing of your heart.
Yeah, seems she's interested in being real hands-on, huh?
Marc struggled to hold in his snickering at Jake’s internal dialogue, but after seeing the worry that was clinging to your features, his sympathy prevailed.
“Y/N.”
He spoke calmly, cool and collected. Your eyes flitted to his, where he was watching you intently. However, you could see the ghost of a smirk on his face.
“So what you’re saying is... you want to have sex, with me, for science.”
He reiterated, and you opened your mouth to protest, to defend your credibility, to rationalize your bizarre proposition, but instead, a long sigh escaped you as you admitted defeat.
“Yes. Yeah. That’s…exactly what I’m saying.”
A brief silence stagnated between you, and there was a tightness forming in your chest as every worst-case-scenario began coming to fruition in the forefront of your mind.
“I’m—I’m so sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to overstep, or—or—”
“What, exactly, would this entail?”
Marc inquired, unable to deny his curiosity. You blinked once, then twice, processing his words.
“So—so you’ll do it?”
He held up his hands as if to tell you to slow down.
“Just—hang on. Hypothetically speaking, what—what would this even look like?”
Excitement zipped up your skin as you reached down into your briefcase, pulling out a manila folder full of several sheets of scribbled ideas and disorganized thoughts.
“Well, see, I’ve been brainstorming—”
Christ, she has the whole thing planned.
Steven’s voice sounded faint, breathless, winded. Marc ignored him, instead focusing in on your sudden enthusiasm.
“—and I came up with a research plan. So, the way it would go—we’d meet for the weekend, three weekends in a row, with a week break in between. Each alter will have their own weekend to be the subject of study. Day one, we—well, you would lead the sexual encounter. Do what you want, showcase what sex usually looks like for you, what you like, what you don’t like—”
Marc's mind was reeling. He shamelessly attempted to ignore the effect your words were having on him. Do what you want. What you like. To you.
You were still talking.
“—and then the second day, you’d let me take the reins. I’ll psychoanalyze your behavior from the first day, and synthesize that with all the information I already have about you, and I’ll try to—well, I don’t wanna say push your buttons, but—basically, as shitty as it sounds, I’d be trying to bring to light any vulnerabilities, prod at the soft spots, stuff like that. Try to see if I can find what it is each of you seeks out through sexual intimacy. Does that make sense?”
Marc shook his head, lost in thought, but he blinked away the fog in his mind and quickly corrected himself with a nod.
“Yeah, I mean—I think so? Would this—what would you do, once it’s over? Like, what’s the point?”
“It would never be published, or shared with anyone else, I can promise you that. It’s—it would mostly be for me. Kind of like a passion project, I guess. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and, well...”
Passion project?
What’s she mean, ‘she’s been thinkin’ about it for awhile?’
Marc almost shushed the voices in his head aloud, trying to clear his head of static so he could properly take all of this in.
He looked up at you, and you were staring up at him with eye round and hopeful, almost reverent as they passed over him. He blew out a slow breath.
“Do... can we have time to think about it? To talk about it?”
The fuck do you mean, jefe? I’m ready to start right now.
You nodded encouragingly, although Marc caught the brief glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.
“Of course, Marc. Take as long as you need. And—please don’t feel obligated to say yes. I mean it. I know—I know this kind of came out of left field, and—and I don’t want to violate any boundaries, or—or jeopardize our friendship in any way, I would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, just—”
You stalled your tangent with a slow breath.
“Just let me know, okay?”
Marc nodded at you, smiling softly and contemplatively as he rose from the table and exited the coffeeshop, leaving you to stew in anticipation and something adjacent to remorse.
The call came in the next day, at 11am on the dot. It was Steven on the other line when you answered, walking out of the lecture hall doors as your class adjourned.
“Hello?”
You answered.
“Mornin’, Y/N. It’s, uh—It’s Steven.”
You giggled.
“I know, Steven. I have caller ID, and believe it or not, your accent is kind of distinct.”
You could practically hear him blush on the other end.
“Right. Yeah. Well, I just—I was callin’ to, uh—Christ, of course they made me do this, I can’t even—”
“Steven.”
You interrupted gently, your calmness soothing his nerves to some degree. He took a breath.
“Sorry. I—We talked it over. The whole—your experiment. And—and I think we’re all up for it.”
You froze in your tracks, students continuing to rush around on either side of you in the hallway. Your hand was shaking.
“I—really? Are you sure?”
“Well, no—I mean, yeah, I just—of course, I’ve got some reservations, but, I mean—it’s for science, yeah?"
A smile was creeping up your face.
“Yeah. Yes. For—for research purposes.”
Yeah, solely research purposes, my ass.
Marc quipped internally, and Steven gulped.
“Right, then. Could we—shall we meet again today, or—whenever, to talk it over a bit more?”
You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you.
“That’d be perfect. We can meet same time, same place as yesterday?”
He gave a hum of agreement, and you felt suddenly breathless as the reality of the situation began to set in.
“Right. I’ll—I’ll see you then, okay, Steven?”
“Yeah, ‘lright, cheers.”
“And, Steven?”
You called quickly, hoping to catch him before he ended the call.
He hummed in response. You smiled.
“Thank you. Really, thank you.”
Cuddle His Angst Away || Steven Grant x fem!reader
Summary: Steven doesn't show up for your scheduled date once again, so you decide to visit him. As a result, you cuddle him to sleep to ease his stress
Warnings: none
Words: 2890
Authors: Cass & Fenrir
"Of course, this is the main hall; I don't think I need to explain it to you," Donna grumbled, bored and a little annoyed. She was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to introduce a new employee for some strange reason. "And here's our lovely gift shop, complete with Stevie." She tapped her fingernails against the counter as she spoke.
Because you didn't like her tone, you merely smiled and fawned at the poor man who looked like he had been up for days. "Hi.”
After a second blink, Steven realised what was up, as if he had been shaken awake from a deep state of reflection. "Hello." He replied. Welcome. You must be Y/N person. The tourist guide position has been replaced, I've been told. And it's Steven with a "v”, not Stevie, Donna."
"It's Y/N, not Y/N person. Bloody hell, Stevie, it's time to wake up," Donna said as she looked at her watch. "Y/N, you don't have any tours scheduled today. Just get to know this place. Stevie, and then you can get back to work." She walked away without saying anything more.
"Isn't she a lovely person?" You inquired, your eyes rolling. "So! Once again, hello, my name is Y/N and I'm a new tour guide." You smiled and extended your hand to him.
Clearly, Steven hesitated before taking your hand in his for a brief shake. He fixed his gaze on you for a few moments before he cleared his throat to say, "Just so you know, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me. I've been here for a while, so I know what, where, and how."
"This will be hugely helpful. Thank you incredibly much, Steven." You smiled as you looked at his name tag. "I'll contact you as soon as I need something. I honestly wouldn't dare to ask Donna anything." You nodded quietly, giggling.
"After all, she is the boss. Everyone in a position of power is a little bossy. She is the master, and I am the servant." Steven yawned quietly, covering his mouth with his curled palm.
"Being a boss does not imply being a jerk." You sighed and took a quick look around. "Difficult night?"
If it was just a bad night, he thought to himself, sinking back into his thoughts. Soon after, he shook his head and said, with a flat smile glued to his face, "Rather a difficult life filled with questioning the reason for being." His tone was still so low that he had to repeat twice before you could hear him properly.
You gave him a slight smile and nodded. "You say? As another of Donna's servants, can I purchase something from the gift shop? Or will she sever my head?"
Steven frowned briefly before breaking into a bright smile. "Sure. I don't presume any of those less would pose a problem for our beloved leader," Steven pointed to various items gathered in baskets or displayed on the counter and shelves behind him. "What would you want to get? Have any of those fancy souvenirs caught your eye, Y/N?"
"That Taweret plushie," you exclaimed happily and giggled as Steven handed it over to you. "Dear God, I wish she looked like she did in all the books. Goddess of fertility and childbirth. But for visitors, it's sold as cute stuffy. How much for it?"
"To you for free, this one's one me." Steven smiled as he ran his hand through his dark hair, which resembled a bird's nest. "I'm also not a fan of turning goddesses and gods into those," he said, pointing to a few other small statues and Osiris, who had been transformed into a whistle, "But money is money. As long as people are willing to pay for plastic Osiris to blow into his buttocks, they will be manufactured. There is nothing more or less. The essence of life."
You couldn't help but laugh quietly. "This is more than true," you said as you moved in closer. "Just between you and me, outside, whoever made those banners did a terrible job considering Ennead had only seven gods."
Steven's shrug was followed by a slight nod. "I believe you already know who came up with the idea."
"I'm betting on Donna. I believe she simply does not care to be accurate." With a shrug, you stuffed the plushie into your shoulder bag. "Thank you so much for that wonderful gift. I won't take up any more of your time, Steven. I should go take a look around."
Grant asked a simple question with an unexpected burst of courage that surprised him, "Do you want to meet for coffee later? With me? We could, for example, discuss museum related stuff. Or just drink the hot, black liquid that's supposed to enlighten your brain and burst your endorphins."
Looking at him, you blinked, surprised by the sudden invitation, but he was the only normal person you'd met here so far. You gave a nod. "Sure! That's perfect for me. So, Steven, I'll see you later."
Grant followed you with a careful glance, feeling a little dizzy as you walked away.
When a pair of children came to the gift shop looking for souvenirs, he simply pulled a sign with WE'RE CLOSED written on it and placed it on the counter, right in front of the children's faces. He then left his desk and went to the restroom, despite protests from children.
You obviously noticed him leaving, but you didn't give it much thought because you were too occupied with your surroundings. He was an odd lad, a tired one for sure, but he was nice, much nicer than your boss. Hopefully, you would make at least one good friend here.
In the bathroom, he sprayed his face with cold water and wiped it with a paper towel, looking in a large, long mirror.
"You're fucking stupid." Suddenly, a deep voice said within his head.
Even though Steven knew he was alone in the bathroom at the time, he took a moment to look behind his shoulder. "Who said that? WHO SAID THAT?!"
"Idiot. Did you just looked around even though you have a fucking mirror in front of you? Just so you know, this is not how you hit on a girl. How come you're so stupid to first talk about some plastic shit and then asking her out?"
Steven slipped hands in his hair, shaking his head. "You're not real."
"If I'm not real then you're not real as well, idiot."
Steven sat down on the floor for a few moments, gasping and thinking. Soon he realised the voice was gone.
You walked around the museum, making certain that you understood everything. On your latest tour, you even bothered the security guard, who was standing behind cameras, but he appeared to be more preoccupied with kitten videos on his phone.
When the work day came to an end, you decided to wait at Steven near the main entrance.
You both went to get that promised coffee after he joined.
Soon, you and Steven were sitting on the park bench, sipping your coffee. Your shoulder bag was next to you, plushie peeking out from beneath the clap.
"I hear a strange accent, so I'm assuming you're not from here." Steven said casually as he sipped his coffee.
You chuckled as you licked your lips after another sip of coffee. "Is it really that obvious? I was certain I'd be fine after my mother, who was actually from here." You sipped one more time and nodded. "I moved here from New York because I no longer felt safe there."
"All the superhero stuff, huh?" Steven inquired casually as he finished his coffee. "I, surely, would not want to live there. It's much calmer here."
"Exactly, I'd never heard of aliens wreaking havoc on London. So here I am, trying to find a job." You shrugged as you finished your coffee as well.
Steven indicated with a nod. "A reasonable decision."
"And you're the one who decides which decisions are reasonable and which are not?" Within his head, a deep tone whispered. "You're unable to gather yourself even."
Steven took a quick look around. "Be quiet." He muttered through clenched teeth.
"Steven... "Are you all right?" You asked, your eyebrow raised at him.
He shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I apologise. Sometimes... Sometimes I'm a little odd."
"Don't we all at times?" You made a joke and threw away your cup. "I'm really worried about tomorrow. I'll be meeting with my first group."
Steven, after a brief moment of thought, stated, "I am confident that you will succeed. The previous tour guide was a stutterer. Can you imagine how long it took him to finish the sentence? He was never able to complete the tour on time, according to schedule."
"You've made me even more nervous! Oh my goodness, I hope I can stick to my schedule! What if I don't? That bloody woman will rip off my head." You became a little concerned.
"Well done, dumbass, you scared Y/N." Steven's inner voice screamed angrily. "Apologise."
Steven jerked up, startled by a sudden sentence he heard in his head. "Don't tell me what I should do!"
He noticed you glaring up at him after a brief moment; your head tilted as you blinked. "Please accept my apologies...," Steven referred to you, scratching the back of his neck. "I think you'll fit the role perfectly, don't worry."
"It's all right." You shook your head and took a few deep breaths to relax. "I apologise. I am a very nervous person, and being a tour guide is a little intimidating for me, but as you put it, I will be successful."
He simply rubbed your shoulder and patted it at the end. "You'll see, you'll do fantastic."
--------------------
Two months have passed.
Steven tried to see you as often as he could. He knew you were upset with him for disappearing a few times and failing to show up for dates, being late for several days, but you kept forgiving him and his oddities.
Steven was an odd fella, and even after getting to know him better, that didn't change.
In terms of friendship and caring for him, you tried to be patient with him when he told you about some of his problems.
When he failed to show up yet again, you decided to go and see him yourself; you wanted to ensure that he was well. Fortunately, you knew where he lived, so you knocked on Steven's door soon after. "Steven! Are you in there?"
Steven eventually opened the door, peeping out of his flat, and smiling hesitantly as soon as he saw you standing on the corridor with your arms folded over your chest. "Y/N, hi, hi, I didn't expect you here, I thought we were set on Wednesday."
You said, tapping your foot against the floor with anger, "That's why I'm here. It's Wednesday, and we were supposed to meet an hour ago. Do you mind if I come in?"
Steven hesitated, but when he saw your cold stare, he let out a loud huff and stepped aside to make way for you to enter. "I still haven't cleaned so it's messy."
"I don't have a problem with that, Steven. I'm more concerned about you than your messy flat." Nodding, you stepped inside. "It's nice."
When Steven closed the door, he hurried to the living room to gather dirty dishes and place them in the sink.
"Steve, it's fine really. You better tell me what happened? I was worried."
Steve yanked on his shirt and replied, "I've lost my sense of time." He continued, "Of course, I think I dozed off..."
You sighed. "To be honest, I was worried something would happen to you." You said. "Let me help you clean up here."
"I'll do it later on my own. Do you want something to drink? Have a seat... Wherever there is free space."
You nodded as you walked to the couch and moved a few books to sit down. "Tea would be nice."
Steven then went over to the aquarium to feed Gus after the tea was served.
"So, it's Gus the fish. He's cute." You smiled, taking a sip from the cup.
Steven agreed and joined you right away. "I apologise once more for forgetting our date and for messing up dates in general... You know how difficult that is for me."
You moved your hand through his messy hair as you sighed, "Steven, you know it's hard, but it happens more often than when we started. I'm worried." You said, sighing. "Is there something we can do with that?”
"What would you like to do? We know there's nothing much we can do at this point."
As you sat there, you thought. In reality, he was right and this made you a little frustrated.
"Okay... You're right... I really don't know. Also, it's getting late. Maybe," shrugging, you glanced around a little, "I could stay here and keep you company?"
Nodding, he rubbed the back of his neck. "That would be wonderful. I think Gus already has enough of me and my talking. I would appreciate someone with whom to converse."
You joked, "Is it okay if I go home to grab some clothing? Since I don't think I could sleep in your clothes."
Steven glared at you, rolling his eyes back, and hummed loudly. "You don't need to change your clothes, Y/N, you can stay in them. If you feel the need to change, I can give you one of my t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants."
You nodded. "That would be lovely. It's hard to sleep in jeans. I hope those little requests won't bother you.".
Steven shrugged. "No, I don't mind at all. As far as I can tell, Gus has no objections, either."
Gus was probably sleeping in the water as the fish floated gently.
"Well, I am glad." Your reply was short as you looked in the direction of the kitchen. "Have you eaten yet?"
Steven didn't reply as he rummaged through his small closet. "I did... Some time ago... I'm not sure anymore."
"Do you feel hungry?”
"No, but if you are, I can go out to grab some takeouts."
"Well, I was planning to make something tasty, but since you aren't hungry, I won't go through your fridge," you said, getting up from the couch. "Tea?"
"No thanks. The refrigerator is empty, so no food can be found there."
Nodding once more, you walked to him and accepted the clothes he chose.
After changing in the bathroom, you returned to him as soon as it was done.
Grant was already in bed with his ankles cuffed.
It caught your attention as you sat on the bed. "Wow, I must say, I didn't fully believe this part. So, would you like to cuddle?"
He only nodded hesitantly after looking down at his ankles. "As you can see, I didn't lie. It's only for protection. I would appreciate some cuddles as well."
As you laid on the bed, you relaxed and opened your arms for him soon after.
"Come here, Steven. I'll cuddle you to sleep or simply carry you through the night." Your tone was sweet and soft as you placed your offer.
Steven rolled onto his side as far as his cuffed ankles would allow, creating an ocean of curly hair on your belly as his head was placed there.
As soon as you moved a little closer to make him more comfortable, you grabbed a blanket to wrap him a little. As you hugged him, one of your hands reached into his messy hair, gently stroking them, while massaging his scalp.
While humming softly, he let you fully embrace him and rolled to his side as much as he could. "Will this ever end?" Steven asked quietly.
One of your eyes was open when you looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"Will I ever feel normal again?"
"Steven... Do not say it as if you were some kind of maniac killing people all the time. You are a normal guy." You sighed and kissed his head. "Maybe someone can help you manage it."
Your tone made him feel as if his heart was melting.
"Even though we missed our few dates, I will still help you in any way that I can. Don't worry about that." You squeezed him a little.
Steven once believed that his emotional scars were a net that would sink him into briny depths. Nevertheless, he stood on the rock and the scars became bright sparks in the sunlight, golden fireworks giving light to the dawn, promising a brighter tomorrow. Your presence by his side made him think so, always being so caring and patient with him and all of his oddities. Grant felt relieved knowing you were always nearby to ease his worries.
Although Steven's problem was difficult, you knew better than to abandon him because of it.
Tucking the blanket around him a bit more, you held him. Throughout the night, you simply held him and offered him whatever comfort you could. He was the man you loved in the end.
The Easter Hunt || Marc Spector x fem!Reader smut
Summary: Steven Grant is your boyfriend. You live a happy life together. On Easter, something unexpected happens. You are surprised to learn Marc Spector wants to get laid with you. Would you agree to that?
Warnings: smut & language & Marc being bossy
Words: 3280
Pairing: Marc Spector x fem!Reader || Steven Grant x fem!Reader
Authors: Cass & Fenrir
A/N: In order to dispel any doubts, we know Marc & Steven are canonically Jewish and we respect that. Nevertheless, for this particular fic purpose, we chose not to adhere to this specific canon aspect. It is our hope that you will understand & react with comprehension.To those who may have felt resentful - please accept our sincere apologies for any triggering you may have experienced.
Easter was a more laid-back holiday than Christmas. Undoubtedly, the holiday was filled with family, friends, and delicious food. On Easter Sunday, people would receive chocolate eggs and occasionally a bunny. It was enjoyable to be able to celebrate these things. Furthermore, spring had just arrived, which meant that new flowers bloomed and everything came back to life after a long absence. In order to welcome the seasonally warm air, many people opened the windows instead of getting cosy for the winter.
Steven felt like he was on cloud nine; he had a cheerful mood. While the whole Easter dinner preparation was a bit overwhelming at times, he didn't mind as long as you were with him and Gus.
Grant spent his free time painting eggs and hiding them around his flat since the museum was closed for Easter and Donna didn't come up with any creative, brilliant ideas to make his life worse.
As you and Steven had been dating for a few months, you simply visited his place whenever you wanted. He even gave you the key. Your bag was full of stuff when you stepped into the flat. “Honey, I'm back!” You exclaimed.
As soon as he spotted you, he exclaimed enthusiastically, "Hi!"
You greeted him with joy, "I have everything!"
He clapped his hands a few times. "Thanks. Could you place the bags on the counter in the kitchen?"
As you nodded, you headed to the kitchen and put the bags on the counter. "I see you have cleaned a little. I'd help you if you waited for me."
"In the past, you have said that staying in motion is always better. I wanted to do something."
"I distinctly remember saying that we could clean and prepare the place together." You shook your head and started to unpack the bags.
"But why would you have to work your beautiful ass off when I can take more of your responsibilities on my shoulders since I'm at home?" Steven asked with a smug smirk on his lips.
"Because I want to help with everything, silly, but fine. Have it your way. What's next, boss?"
"I think you should try to find a few things hidden around the flat."
"The eggs are hidden around your apartment, right?"
"Not only eggs." He replied mischievously.
"I promise... if I find a gun here, I will make Marc apologise for this." You warned before you began looking through the flat.
Mark responded to Steven within his head, "If she finds the gun and tries to blame me, she'll rather get smacked in the booty."
Steven said, clearing his throat, "Shut the hell up."
Looking through all the possible hiding spots in the flat, you walked around.
Eventually, you found a few nicely painted eggs. He clearly put some effort into them.
You smiled as you approached him. "That's it. Do I get anything for those?"
"We have cheesecake, strawberries, beer and wine, and...," Steven rubbed your forearm, "Something in the bedroom."
When he mentioned the bedroom, you raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's in there?"
"Not much there yet, but we've been thinking for a while..." Steven rubbed his hands together.
As you nodded and listened to him, you wondered what he really meant.
Steven stated hesitantly, "Marc and I... We've been thinking, or should I say considering... He'd like to give it a shot as well."
You chuckled a bit while humming. "Give what a shot?"
Steven blushed as he said, "Oh, don't make me say that."
"How else will I know what you mean?" You teased him with a smile.
You were kissed on the cheek by him. “Some playing, you know. Playing for grown-ups.”
"That doesn't ring a bell, sweetie." You kept on teasing him.
Marc's low, soft grunt was virtually inaudible after he gained control. He rolled his eyes before towering over you. "I want that pussy!"
"Couldn't Steven just say so?" You asked. "Is that fine with him?"
"He would try not to be. The body is mine, I must remind you."
"Calm down your horses, Marc. If he isn't okay with it, I am sorry, but I am not either." You frowned.
Marc glared at you, grinning a little too angrily and resting his hands on his hips. "Give me a moment." Immediately, he rushed to the nearest mirror. "Steven. Steven. Stevie! Fuck, you alive?"
"I'm Steven, Spector. S-T-E-V-E-N with a "v" in the middle. How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Steven asked through the mirror.
You sat down on the couch and crossed your legs while you waited.
Of course, you've slept with Steven before but only him, or at least you hoped it was just him, but honestly, you've never thought about Marc in this situation. It's strange how you got excited about the idea.
They talked for a while; eventually, they came to similar conclusions.
As Marc came back to you, he rested his hip against the desk near Gus' aquarium. "He doesn't mind at all."
You got up from the couch and walked over to him. Your palms moved up his chest until they reached his shoulders. "Well, in that case, I don't mind either. To be honest, I am excited."
"You have to stop giving me those eyes."
"What if I don't stop? Will you punish me?" You cocked your eyebrow.
He leaned in closer, fanning your cheek with his breath as he teasingly nosed your neck. Marc whispered hoarsely, "The kind of look you give Steven when you want to be fucked. If you aren't a good, cooperative girl, you're punished." He pulled back, taking in your look.
"Perhaps I wish to be punished?" You winked at him, smiling.
As he lifted your chin with his fingers, Marc asked in a teasing tone, "Is that what you want?"
Biting your lip, you nodded.
Marc's knee slid into the gap between your legs as he teased your mound. "Would you like me to fuck this cunt until you beg me to stop?" Marc asked again while moving his knee back and forth as he rubbed your pussy through your jeans.
As you played with your lower lip, you gasped and hummed happily. "I will gladly accept it, sir. I would like it very much."
In response to your whining, he stepped back and smirked in amusement. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he demanded, "Promise me, you're gonna be obedient." His voice was stronger and firmer this time around.
With a frown on your face, you rubbed your legs together to increase friction.
Nodding, you took a deep breath. "I promise to be good."
"That's my girl."
A smile spread across his face. "I am now the one chasing the Easter Bunny, and we know who it is."
Blushing you tried to run to bed, but Marc snatched you before you even got there.
Once he picked you up, you giggled loudly.
"The Easter bunny has been caught. Now I'll be praised."
As soon as you were back down on the floor, he made you walk backwards until you felt the cold wall of the room against your back.
Just then, Marc lowered his head a bit to place a wet kiss on the side of your neck, making sure to be as vocal as possible as he did so.
With a soft moan, you grabbed Marc's cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You wanted to be sure he wouldn't pull away too soon.
One of your legs was wrapped around his hip as he french kissed you.
The kiss continued as you reached down to grab the hem of the shirt he was wearing so you could remove it easily.
As he started working on your belt and the fly of your jeans, he let you tug it over his head and threw it aside, pushing you even more against the wall. "Is babygirl needy?"
"Always." You purred and threw aside your own shirt as well.
As your belt was also unbuckled and thrown aside, Marc opened your jeans and yanked them down rapidly, kissing between your breasts.
You stepped outside of them. You were only wearing your white, lacy underwear in front of him.
"Look at you, such a good girl in such defiant underwear. So fucking hot."
As he worked on your bra clasp with his skilled fingers, he attacked your neck once more with another kiss. The bra fell down soon after.
With a smile, you moved your hands up and down his chest until they rested on the waistband of his pants. "You're so strong, just bossing me around."
He cupped your breast in his large hand as he reached down. He gently squeezed it, causing you to moan. Marc noticed your nipple was getting hard, so he pinched it between his fingers and gently started to pull. In response to this, you let out a tiny moan before you began stirring again.
"Fuck. I want to suck your cock." You winced, staring into his eyes. "Please." You almost begged.
He pulled back from your nipple and pressed heated kisses along your neck as both of his hands slid to your hips to pull your body more firmly against him - him as well as the noticeable bulge in his pants. Spector whispered, "You're naughty, and I like it. Let yourself go, babydoll."
As you smiled, you moved your lips to his cheek and then his jawline. After that, you moved down his neck and chest, kissing every inch of his body. Before unbuttoning his pants, you remembered to pay special attention to his abdomen.
As soon as his cock popped free from his boxers, you licked your lips. You gave it a long lick from base to tip purring, "Yummy."
Both his hands were in your hair as he gently bucked his hips. Marc praised in a husky voice, "Just like that. Such a little, naughty girl. Keep it up."
Your mouth was wrapped around his tip as you sucked gently, muttering at the sound of his voice as you did so. Then, you took more of him in your mouth, moaning again, feeling how wet you became.
Marc grunted, watching you from above, "You're so fucking skilled. Steven said you're good at blowjobs, but I refused to believe him. I was so fucking wrong."
As he bucked his hips forward, he caught the back of your head and made you swallow the entire shaft. "Just like that. Look at me. I said look at me, Y/N."
As you stared up at him, you softly growled around him.
Your cheeks were cupped in his hands. He commented, "Such an obedient girl."
After pulling him out of your mouth, you nuzzled his palm and purred. "Thank you, sir."
"Up." He ordered simply.
Because you promised to obey, you got up even though you didn't want to.
Your tongue was warm as he kissed you deeply, tasting his precum on your tongue. Marc couldn't help but hum as he kissed you.
Soon after, you were placed on the bed.
After kissing your lips again, Marc proceeded to bite and lick his way down your stomach until he was kneeling in front of you.
It seemed apt. You were a goddess, and he was your worshipper. And fuck, how much he wanted to worship you.
Spector wasted no time sliding your lacy panties down your legs, finally ridding you of the obstructive material so that he could trail his eyes over your naked form.
When he pulled you forward to press open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, Marc was able to smell your arousal, and it did little to quell the tenting in his ball sack.
As you laughed, you placed both your legs on his shoulders, looking down at him with a playful smile. "Please, sir. I need you. So badly."
He leaned forward and swiped his tongue along your cunt before you could protest.
He thought you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Marc gritted, yanking one of your legs over his shoulder, improving its position and burying his face in your beautiful pussy.
You moaned and cursed breathlessly, which spurred Marc on further. As he furiously tinkered with your clit while making some obscene noises, he buried his fingers into your ass, holding you against his greedy mouth.
As your hands moved through his thick hair, you grabbed it, letting out all sorts of sounds.
His tongue was soon accompanied by his index finger. After slipping his digit in and out of your pussy a few times, his middle finger joined, stretching you out even more.
Marc rubbed his tongue across your clitoris, sometimes catching it a little with his teeth.
In the wake of the first climax, Marc flipped you over and climbed up, pinning you to the old mattress. The head of his cock brushed against your dripping pussy as he shifted again.
While trying to calm down from your high, you panted deeply. It was nothing like the time you spent with Steven. Steven was soft and gentle, putting your pleasure first. Marc was aggressive and domineering.
What if you had to be honest? You fucking enjoyed them both. "I need you to fuck me hard until all I can moan is your name, Marc."
He slid into your tight heat without another word, stretching you so perfectly that you thought you might explode. "Fuck." He mumbled against your neck, his shoulders tensed as he slowly began to rock in and out of you. "You feel divine. So tight around my dick. Fucking perfection. Damn. Thought Steven had made you lose just a little more. Thank God he didn’t. Fuck." He growled, the rumbling in his chest ten times more intense than it had been, his mouth claiming yours in a deep kiss as one of his hands tangled in your hair. "You're so fucking fine, doll."
A hand was moved into his hair as you whimpered, "Your cock is fucking big. You are stretching me so nicely and fucking me so well! Ough! Yes!"
"Do you like it when I fuck your little cunt like that?" he said, as he caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
The pistoning of his hips struck you at the point where you saw stars, making his pace suddenly frantic.
While he pressed heated kisses to your throat, his teeth caught your skin as he sucked it into his mouth, leaving a hickey behind.
Marc grabbed you by the throat as your pussy began pulsating around his cock. His hand was large and easily fit around your throat. He then began to choke you by squeezing slightly.
He felt as if he was climbing a mountain - higher, higher, higher - before he finally crashed. "Oh fuck!" Marc snarled, his lips slamming against yours in a brutal kiss as he ran for his own release. As his cock started swelling inside you, his thrusts became more erratic and rough. He pulled one of your legs over his tense shoulder and continued to fuck you throughout your orgasm.
While biting your shoulder, Spector started firing ropes of hot cum into your pussy, unable to stop himself.
Whimpering his name over and over again was like some kind of prayer for you.
Having your own climax combined with the sweet feeling of him filling you up made it even more magical. It was still hard to believe, but you didn't regret a thing. "Fuck.. Marc..."
Marc gasped for air and fell on you, his tensed muscles glistening with sweat. "That was something."
You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. You gently stroked his thick, now messy hair with one of your hands. "That was something. I'm not sure I'll be able to walk."
Marc rolled off you and lay close to you, admiring the shape of your naked body while tracing the curve of your waist with his index finger. "Steven is lucky to have you as a girlfriend."
Since his touch tickled,you giggled. "I know he is. I am lucky to have him as my boyfriend."
Marc rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling as he slipped his hands under his head. "Why did you agree to that? To be fucked by me?"
Turning on your side, you looked at him as you nuzzled your pillow. "I don't know. You are different. I think my curiosity took over."
"When I heard so many of your complaints about me, I believed you were going to take him out with a solid blow to the head."
It's true, you are nothing like Steven. You are an asshole, no offence meant, but still, I just wanted to know you better," you shrugged. "And you? Why did you want to 'try' this with me?"
His voice became weaker for a moment. "It's been a while..." He paused. "It's been a while since I held a woman in my arms."
"So I was like a free whore to you?"
As he let out a sigh, he frowned. He stood up from the bed to walk to the nearest window and look out of it, as he said, "No. Do you realise how hard it is to share your body with others? You need to share your space with them, and that makes it uncomfortable. I felt everything he did to you, as well as the things you did to him. How do you like this fucking answer?"
Following him was the first thing you did.
You wrapped your arms around him from behind and gently stroked his stomach while nuzzling his back. "I apologise, Marc. You are right, I don't understand it fully and I think that I will never do, since this isn't happening to me. Kindly forgive me for this stupid question. I still get confused." You said quietly. "I have a proposal."
While he did not return to you, he nodded, awaiting to hear what you had to say.
You explained, "No matter if it is sex or just cuddles, I'm here for you. Steven is a nice guy. I'm sure he will understand your needs."
Marc frowned to himself before turning around and looking down at you. "Do you mean that seriously?
Looking up at him, you nodded. "Yes, I am serious. You both deserved some warmth and comfort."
The feeling was strange, unlike anything he had experienced before. With disbelief and happiness mixed within him, he smiled a libit.
"Your smile is contagious, Marc. I am glad to witness it. Could you do something for me?" You ran your palm up and down his broad, naked chest.
The man tilted his head, waiting for your request to be dropped.
"Could you... Speak to Steven if he has nothing against it? I am sure he heard everything."
"I promise," Marc said as he glanced down at you for a while. "Nice tits."
With rolled eyes, you got on your tippy-toes and flicked him in the forehead. "Now, Mr. Spector? Are you a big or a small spoon?"
"Big one."
You took his hand and pulled him back to bed, nodding. There you lied down and let him be the big spoon as he pleased. You pulled his arm around your waist as you pressed your back against his chest. "Comfy?"
While placing the kiss on your nape, he smiled, saying, "Yes, very comfortable."
Steven tried to take control of Marc's body and ask if you thought Spector was better than him in those aspects, but Marc didn't allow it; he simply wanted to enjoy the moment with you.
My deflowering || Steven Grant x Reader (First Person POV)
Summary: After dating Steven for a few months, you felt needy and so you decided - the next time he wants to have some fun with you, you'll let him have whatever he craved for so long
Word count: ~ 2420
Rating: explicit (+18)
Warnings: smut (deflowering + 69)
Authors: Fenrir & Rouge
It was a mutual feeling - we were both nervous as hell, but ready to move forward. It had been on my mind for a while, but I had been too worried about getting it right because this was going to be my first time.
Steven was the man of my dreams - he was smart, he made me laugh like no one else, he was sexy, and he was serious when he needed to be. Adding to his charming personality was his passion for history.
We took things slowly. Kissing and petting took up a great deal of his time, which made me want him even more. Even so, we continued slowly; after all, I was a few years younger than him, and Steven claimed: "there is no need to rush things." I appreciated his desire for me to get ready, without pressuring me. I admired him deeply.
My favorite part of the day was lying in bed with him; I loved being cradled in his strong, caring arms. It was comforting to feel his body against mine. His heat warmed my heart and ignited a fire in me that I had never experienced before.
The first time Steven laid hands on me will always be a memory of the first time we started using our tongues to please one another. While watching a movie at his place, I felt the familiar tingling between my legs. As the wet spot rapidly grew between my thighs, I moved around in my seat, growing uncomfortable.
My heart melted when he asked, "What's wrong?"
His tone was soothing, making me want him even more. While biting my bottom lip, I glanced at him and then threw my best bedroom eye at him. His face lit up like he had just won the lottery. Steven knew I was horny; with the growing bulge I could feel pressing against my leg, I knew he was getting there too.
He asked in a tone of voice different from normal; his soft caring tone had now turned deep and rushed. "Is my little Y/N horny?"
"Yes." I laid back down, giggling a little. "What are you going to do about it?"
As he lowered his lips to meet mine, he smiled. His feather soft caresses sent bolts of electricity through my skin as soon as our lips touched. A deep moan escaped me as he rubbed my nipples through the fabric of my shirt and bra, causing them to harden almost instantly. To remove clothes from my upper body, I pushed him off a bit.
Likewise, he stripped down to his now tight boxer shorts. Standing straight, he scanned my body with his eyes.
As I licked my lips and silently beckoned him towards me, Steven could see my chest heaving up and down. Grant obeyed, as he always does, and he bent down once more to kiss me.
Though this time the kiss was deeper, more passionate and desperate; our tongues met and danced together as I grabbed a large tuft of his hair between my fingers and tugged on it ever-so-lightly while we made out.
Steven's hand made its way up my body once more, searching for, and finding, my erected nipple, after what seemed like an eternity of innocent bliss. He rubbed it a little. In the process, he placed his leg over mine and slowly rubbed his very erect cock against my trembling leg.
When he put his head against my neck, grinding a bit harder, Steven let out a soft moan into my ear; his hot breath filling me, claiming me as his own - making me crave that same breath on and around my pussy. My words were breathless and drawn out, "Go down on me."
He raised his head and looked me in the eye. "Are you sure, babe?"
I simply nodded; I had known all along that I wanted his head to be buried between my thighs but had been too timid to come out and say it.
Steven smirked mischievously and kissed me down my neck, along my collarbone, and over my breasts as he descended. In addition to licking, kissing and biting my nipples, he also made me even wetter, so much so that I could feel dribbling down my thighs.
With his kisses reaching my belly button, I was filled with the most intense lust and craving for sexual pleasure I had ever experienced. Steven was closer than ever to tasting what he was doing to me as my clit throbbed to the beat of my heart. My legs tensed up as he made his way over my hip, and my knees locked. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body, making my heart skip several beats at once.
With a smile plastered across his face, Steven said, "Y/N, calm down. Let me actually get to your pussy before you cum."
I blushed crimson red. I was embarrassed, but he took it as a sign of how much I wanted him.
I looked deep into his love-struck eyes as I smiled innocently. My left hand touched the back of his head as I urged him to continue, which he did immediately.
My eyes closed as his soft lips continued to caress my skin, his tongue making brief appearances along my body.
As he worked lower and lower, kissing around but not touching my pussy, I rolled fully onto my back and let out a soft moan. My legs were forced to open by his kisses, albeit by magic.
His tongue darted across my goosebumps-covered thighs, then across my knee. For a moment, he looked up at me. His face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with lust and craving for my body. "I love you," Steven whispered into the soft flesh of my thigh, as he pressed his lips there.
I changed my deep breaths into words. I replied, "I love you too."
His kisses reached up to my pussy, still covered in my lacy panties, and his tongue writhed around to stroke my tender skin throught the fabric. Each of his tongue strokes brought me closer and closer to orgasm, and I knew that once his mouth was upon my wet, swollen clit, I wouldn't be able to contain myself.
Steven’s skilled fingers easily pushed the material of my panties aside as he began to rub and stroke my pussy lips as if on cue. As my juices soaked into his fingers, he made them slippery and moist. Despite his teasing and his attempt to get me to ask for release, I would not. As he continued to touch my wet pussy, he parted its lips and rubbed my wet slit. He ran his finger all around my clit without touching it. Each time he neared, I arched my back and exhaled sharply.
He made me cum because I couldn't take this constant, cruel teasing any longer. I wanted to feel his tongue probe my warm, wet, tight pussy. I wanted him to carefully slide his fingers inside me and rub my sensitive spot. I wanted him to want me just as much as I wanted him.
After placing my hands over his hair, I gently pressed his face against my pussy before he could protest. "I just want your tongue to touch my aching pussy so badly."
I felt as he propped himself up on his elbows; I thought that he didn't want to continue. It was as if he just wanted to leave me there panting and slick with my own release.
"I know, Y/N. I need you just as much." And with that Steven knelt on his knees, his very erect penis gleefully escaping the fabric of his boxers as Grant pushed them down his legs. His dick popped out and stood at full attention; his head purple and slick with salty, pre-cum, throbbing already. It too craved contact.
I asked shyly, "Can you touch it for me?" It's always been a great thrill for me to see Steven touching himself; I loved seeing his eyes closed tightly as his hand worked back and forth across his shaft. I enjoyed the loud animalistic noises he made any time he was about to cum. Mostly, though, I loved watching the jets of thick, white cum erupting from his quivering member. It was thrilling to see him jerk every last drop out, as well as the shudders that lasted for a long time after he had climaxed.
Seeing me touching myself, Steven smiled and permitted me to do so. As he sat on his knees, he moved his hand over to his cock. As his hand touched the shaft, he grunted.
Hearing and seeing this sent me into a sensory overload. After grabbing hold of my clit, my fingers began working on it. I rubbed it in small circles, flicked and pinched it as Steven instructed, and my body climbed ever higher toward the summit. Whenever I hit that particularly sensitive spot of my clit, where the hood didn't cover it, he could tell I was close by the beads of sweat that formed on my forehead.
"That's it baby," He urged. "Cum for me, little kitten." His pet-calling was driving me insane, and he knew that. He knew how much I enjoyed being called all those sweet nicknames. That I was here for no other purpose than to satisfy his every need, that I was only here to make him feel good.
"Who's my dirty, little kitten?" Grant asked. When I didn't respond right away, he asked me again, this time his tone was much firmer and erotic. "I asked, who is my dirty, little kitten?"
"I am." I replied, panting hard as I crept closer to climax.
As he began to move his hand over his cock more quickly, he smiled. Steven tilted his head forward and thrust his hips, he whispered, "I'm close, Y/N."
I decided to try something we hadn't done before in order not to waste that hot load. "How about a sixty-nine?" I asked shyly, a blush covering my cheeks.
Steven laid comfortably on the bed, waiting for me to straddle his face.
My legs trembled and I immediately sat up and pulled my panties down, throwing them aside. My knee went over his head as I straddled him as gently as I could, letting out a tiny moan.
Then he dove right in. As I moved my hips to match his rhythm, he began lapping at my juices, his strong hands kneading the flesh of my ass.
It was the first time anyone had ever put their head between my thighs, and I was drooling. Having his tongue move over my clit, sending me to the edge of an orgasmic trance was the best feeling I had ever experienced. He filled me up just enough with his fingers. Whenever he touched me, every part of my body tensed and shook. The feeling was divine. I rolled my head back and moaned his name loudly, playing a little with my breasts.
When I opened my eyes, I saw his hard member throbbing. I leaned down and hungrily took as much as I could into my mouth. Even though it made me gag at first, I wanted it all. As good as he was making me feel, I wanted to make him feel the same. I stroked his balls with my free hand, making him moan into my pussy; the vibrations tickled it.
On his cock, I bobbed my head back and forth, savouring the taste of his precum. I could feel his balls tensing up in my hand as he began slipping his tongue into my core. "Baby, I'm gonna cum." Steven soon breathed through my pussy, making me go crazy.
When I continued to visualize him spurting that gorgeous cum that I was about to swallow for the first time today, the familiar tingling in my clit began. I let go of his balls and grabbed his hips, pulling his cock fully into my mouth. I began pushing his cock balls-deep in and out of my mouth.
Like a tidal wave hitting the shore, the first wave of ecstasy swept over me. I felt numb throughout my whole body, and it took me away from myself. As my clit became too sensitive to touch, I kept grinding my pussy against his face.
He pulled away from me and pushed me off of him.
I asked breathlessly, "What are you doing?" I anticipated tasting his delicious cum. When he spoke, I sat up.
'Lay down, kitten. Today you are going to be full.” And with that, he planted a large, soft kiss directly on my lips.
I loved being able to taste myself on his tongue. It was sweet, salty, and almost bitter.
With his knee, Steven separated my legs and positioned himself between them, rubbing his throbbing member against my entrance.
Having craved it for so long, I was panting at that point.
As if waiting for my permission, Steven looked straight into my eyes.
Nodding my head, I instinctively grabbed the sheets and began to fist them.
I was slick enough for him to slide in me easily. My head rolled back as I cried his name, barely breathing. "Oh my God, Steven!"
Steven leaned forward and closed my lips with a kiss.
I had no choice but to moan loudly, fisting the sheets beneath me as he rocked his hips back and forth, stretching my pussy. Soon, I was a moaning mess beneath his strong body.
He kept on steady pace, pushing himself fully in me, slowly and carefully to not hurt me in any way, grunting and cursing from time to time. His head leaned down and he caught one of my nipples between his teeth.
I was tight enough to drive him crazy pretty quickly.
Soon, his hips stuttered, his grunts became louder and Steven pulled out of me, cumming all over my abdomen with a final, roaring grunt. He laid down beside me and we both took time to recover; he was shuddering and still breathing like he had just run a marathon.
I was there, nuzzling to his broad chest, inhaling his scent and shaking all over my body after having the very first intercourse in my life. I was so happy he was the one to deflower me. I trusted him with my life; I knew he would never hurt me. But most of all, Steven Grant was the man I loved dearly.
Più di te ♥ || Steven Grant x Reader & Marc Spector x Reader
Summary: As Layla searches for Marc, she discovers that there are two more people involved in the case. A big surprise awaits her when she discovers that her husband is not the same as he used to be.
Warnings: none, just Marc punching Steven & Steven punching Marc in revenge 😶
Word count: circa 3520
Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Layla El-Faouly & Reader, Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly, Steven Grant & Layla El-Faouly, Marc Spector & Steven Grant
Authors: Fenrir & Cass
A/N: Marc's words are in italics
As you stood in the kitchen, you tried not to burn the breakfast.
You let Steven sleep in a little bit instead of waking him up when you awoke. All you wanted was to make a small, nice surprise for him.
After a loud groan, you heard a loud gasp that sounded almost like a scream, followed by an even louder noise.
Worried, you moved closer to the source of the spinning and gasped when you caught sight of Steven face-planting the ground due to the ankle restraint. "Oh my God, Steven! Are you okay?!"
Trying to sit up a bit to undo the restraint, Steven repeated a few times, "Was I dreaming? Was I dreaming? Yes, apparently I was. Y/N, what are you doing here? I thought we were set for Friday."
"Friday was yesterday and you let me stay here overnight," you reminded him and then helped him sit up before removing the ankle restraint. "You didn't hurt yourself, right?"
"Friday was yesterday? Are you sure? I'm almost certain it's today..." Steven rubbed his head, trying to keep a straight face. "Oops, did it again?"
You took his hand as you helped him to stand up, telling him, "I think you did, sweetie. Come on now, I made you breakfast. I'm hoping you'll like it."
His blushing was accompanied by a feeling of nakedness as he wore only a plain t-shirt and boxer shorts. "Give me a minute." Steven asked.
You nodded and kissed his cheek, then headed back to the kitchen.
As you were finishing up with breakfast preparation, a knock came at the door. As you went to open, you frowned.
A visibly angry woman walked into the apartment like she owned it. "Where is Marc? Where is he?!"
You just stood there stunned by the whole thing.
While brushing his teeth, Steven peered into the main room from a bathroom, a toothbrush stuck in his mouth. His eyes were fixed on you. His mouth was full of foam as he asked, "Hhho datttt?"
Woman's frown deepened and she looked at you with her eyebrow raised before saying, "I should ask who is that?"
Blinking and raising his hand, Steven indicated he would be right back.
He joined two women and stood close to you after a longer moment. "I'm sorry? Do you know me?" He asked, visibly surprised by the situation.
Layla stared at him in disbelief. "Do I know you? Do you think I'm nuts?"
"I am his girlfriend, and this is Steven, not Marc." You told her.
"His name is Marc and I am his wife." She protested.
You instantly turned to face Steven. "Do you have a wife?"
"Do I have a wife?" Steven blinked, his face turning pale as if the blood would float off. In fact, I don't have any! At least, I'm not aware of having any... By the way, my name is Steven Grant, not Marc. Steven. S-T-E-V-E-N. I work in a museum, I'm a gift shopper and I don't even know you! Y/N, I promise, I don't know that woman. This is the first time I'm seeing her. I assure you that I have never cheated on you. This is some unfunny coincidence!"
"This appears to be an unlucky coincidence, but it doesn't seem that way. It seems she knows you very well." You frowned harder, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Steven Grant? What is going on here? Is this a cover for you?" The woman asked angrily. "It's sad you had to play with this poor girl like that."
Steven wrapped an arm around your shoulders and exclaimed, "She's my girlfriend! And who do you think you are to attack her and me in my apartment?"
"Exactly." You added, nodding.
The woman shook her head and began to walk around the flat. "This is crazy," she said to herself. "I searched for you for so long, but you just found all of this here. My name is Layla and I am your wife. Perhaps this will remind you of us." At that moment, she walked up to Steven and gave him a kiss.
He blinked a few times, his lips stiffening as she pressed against him. Steven tilted his head and gazed intently into her eyes as he pushed her a bit. “What the hell was that?” He growled, shaking his head. "Why did you kiss me?"
In an instant, one of his hands curled into a fist and threw a strong punch directly into Steven's own face.
You wanted to say something, but there were so many things happening that you stood there motionless.
Only Steven's shot at himself made you jump and scream out of pure fear mixed with shock. "What the hell is going on?!" You shouted, blinking.
Steven stood up slowly, a look of surprise on his face as he said, "I'm not sure! I didn't strike myself!"
"Don't you dare kiss my wife," a voice inside his head said.
Steven cried out, looking around for the source of the voice, "But it was she who initiated the kiss!"
"Did you hit your head too hard, love? Who are you talking to?" You asked, reaching out to touch his cheek.
Layla gave you a disapproving look as she asked, "Can you please not touch my husband?"
"Would you please leave me and my boyfriend alone?" You snapped back.
Steven blinked, taking a few steps backwards. "As I said, my girlfriend is Y/N, and I don't have a wife!" The man reminded.
As he glanced in the mirror with the corner of his eye, he was horrified to see his reflection in a different position. It was facing him fully, arms folded on the chest, and chin angled to the front.
Layla shook her head in disappointment. "Marc, this is madness. Drop the act and talk."
"I swear to God, if you don't leave, I'll call the police or scream so someone else will." You warned the woman.
Steven's reflection said coldly, "You kissed my wife, you fucking dumbshit. Do it again and I'll kill you."
Grant screamed loudly, trying to get as far away from the mirror as possible. "Have you seen that?! That damn mirror speaks!"
Layla and you both looked at the man even more confused than before. "Love, we're the only ones here. No one else."
Layla's annoyance was obvious. "Mirrors cannot talk."
Steven exclaimed, "I'm telling you, it talked! I swear!"
"You realize you look like an idiot to them now, don't you?" Reflection replied. "I am Marc and Layla is my wife."
"Marc is speaking to me! He is inside the mirror."
You looked into the mirror and then at him. "Love... I'm sorry to break it to you but it's just a mirror."
Layla looked into the mirror as well, and said, "Maybe he really hit his head hard..."
The man suddenly replied, but his voice sounded completely different. "He didn't hit his head that hard but he kissed you."
You looked at Steven. "He?"
You didn't like it even a little bit as it was getting weirder with each passing moment.
Marc, who took control of Steven's body, scoffed. "Yes."
Angry and frustrated at the whole situation, you snapped at the man, demanding an explanation of what's going on. "Either you explain or I'm out of here forever!" You swore.
"I'm not Steven. I'm Marc." The man replied. "It's nearly impossible to explain. I don't even know where to begin."
"From the beginning would be nice, Marc." Layla replied irritated.
In one moment, you're Steven and the next, you're Marc?" You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I don't understand any of this."
"I'm Marc, but Steven sometimes takes charge."
Feeling lost, Layla asked, "Is this some kind of joke?"
"Exactly. Are you playing us both?" You questioned as well, feeling probably just as offended as the other woman.
"Ask me questions only Steven or I can answer."
"Where did we meet?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Where did we go before you disappeared?" Layla added with a frown, tilting her head a little.
"Well..."
As you looked at the other woman, you shook your head. "Is it okay if I offer you a cup of tea or coffee since our boyfriend and husband are acting crazy and cannot express a word?"
Layla nodded in agreement. She followed you to the kitchen and said, "Yes, I would kill for something warm. I've been looking for him for such a long time. Coffee, please."
Marc followed both women with a cold glance and then looked into the mirror. "Great. Any ideas on what we should do now? The very last thing I need is for my wife to be upset with me. Your fault, dumbass."
Steven strode away from Marc, not looking at him through the mirror, as he told him, "Don't be rude and stop calling me names, I hate it."
The bulk of your time was spent in the kitchen with your unexpected guest. While you tried to be courteous and polite, every smile you made was fake just to keep the atmosphere calm.
The two women were soon joined by Marc. "Listen, once again, let me explain the entire situation. But how about you opening your minds as well?" He looked at Layla and then he looked back at you. "It is required if you want to understand me well."
Layla nodded, looking at him.
As you nodded, you added, "But I warn you. I have a kettle full of hot water."
He leaned his hip against the kitchen counter and said slowly, "It's difficult to explain. It's like I have more than one personality within me. Sometimes my other self, Stevie, takes over."
"Steven! It's S-T-E-V-E-N! Please stop using Stevie on me, I get anxious." Steven growled within Marc's mind.
Laya and you looked at each other.
After a moment, you looked at Marc or Steven or whomever and frowned. "So it's like two in one?”
"I think it's more than two in one, but yes, that's what it is."
"Why didn't you tell me?” Layla asked, expecting an honest answer. "I am your wife. I should know about something like this, don't you think?”
Marc rolled his eyes, resting one hand on his hip. "It is like my alternate personality. Sometimes I reluctantly give him control."
Looking at him, you bit your lip nervously as you rubbed your palms together. "So, Marc, do I understand correctly? You are the original owner of the body, while Steven is a guest?"
"You are correct, sweetheart." He gave a brief nod. Looking at the other woman, he frowned. "Moon Knight is well known to you, so why don't you believe me when I tell you there's another one called Steven?"
Layla sighed heavily as she responded, "I saw the suit, so that was totally different, but it doesn't seem so hard now since you put it in a clear way. I'm just mad that you didn't tell me sooner."
Steven took control of Marc's body before he could react. "Marc wanted to say he pushed you away to prevent you from becoming Khonshu's next avatar."
"And... What about me? Why did I not know?" You asked hesitantly, not sure how to feel. "I don't even understand what you two are saying anymore."
Steve immediately walked closer to you, wrapping his arms around you as he hugged you. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. I didn't know if everything was true or if my mind was playing tricks on me."
As you shook your head, you gently pushed him away. "Then why didn't Marc or whatever his name is come and say something? It's his body, it's his wife, and what the bloody hell am I in all this?"
Steven protested, "You're my girlfriend. I love you... And... I don't care about Marc! Sorry, Miss El-Faouly, but I want to be happy as well as I and Marc are equal beings."
"Do you really mean all that?" You asked, looking up at him.
"Of course, Y/N. I cross on my... On my heart and on the Scarab of Ammit."
Chuckling softly, you nuzzled his chest as you hugged him. Strangely enough, you began to cry, most likely due to the entire situation and the unexpected stress. It was still very jumbled for you at this point, but you felt like you wanted to understand more.
Layla sighed and got up from her seat. "Okay, fine. This is all good, but could I talk to Marc now? I came here to settle some business with him."
Steven hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head and rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “Don't cry... It breaks my heart... I didn't mean to hurt you in any way..."
The man glanced at Layla coldly when she spoke. "Don't you see I'm soothing my girl?" Steven asked. Then, he cupped your face in his hands as he looked down at you. "Don't you mind if I let them speak?"
Wiping a tear from your cheek, you nodded at him. "Of course I won't. They are married in the end and it seems it took her a long time to find him. Let them talk."
Steven stepped back, looked into the mirror, focused and summoned Marc.
When Spector regained control, he looked at Layla.
"We have a lot to talk about Marc. But let's not drag Y/N into it." The dark-haired woman stated.
They both walked to another part of the flat so they could talk while you stood in that bloody kitchen.
Your chin rested on your curled palm as you took a seat at the table.
The amount of information you had to process was so overwhelming that you felt like your head would explode.
__________________________________
After talking for maybe an hour, Layla walked into the kitchen and gave you a friendly smile. "All is clear for now. Will you take care of him?"
You were surprised by her words. "I'll do my best."
Layla nodded. "Thank you." She then turned to Marc. "Keep an eye on her for Steven's sake."
Marc crossed his arms over his chest and nodded slowly. "You know I will. And you, you take care of yourself as well, okay, Layla? Don't get your sweet ass in trouble."
"As long as you won't, I won't either. Call me when you know more. Okay?"
Marc walked up to the woman, wrapped his strong arm around her waist, and gently kissed her. "Deal."
You shouldn't be jealous; it wasn't your Steven, but still it was the body he was residing in. Despite being madly jealous, you looked away so as not to start a fight.
It wasn't long before Layla left and you were alone again with Marc or Steven. You were unsure of what to reply or do next. "So... Uhm..."
"What?" The man asked in a rather harsh tone.
Because of the tone, you flinched a bit and shook your head. "Nothing. Sorry."
"No, no, speak your mind." Marc said, taking a seat at the table.
"Honestly, I don't know what to say. This is so odd because there is this body and there is a man I love, but there are also you. You have a wife and I feel like this whole thing is so crazy." You told him with honesty within your voice.
"Truth be told, it's not any easier for me," he said, stroking his messy hair with his hands. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not me anymore."
"I know. It must be challenging for Steven too." You whispered, shrugging a tad, not sure what to do with your palms. "I wish I could help, in some way."
"That's so kind of you. I'm happy he found someone like you. I find it very difficult to believe that someone with his strange personality can attract a girl though." Marc commented wryly.
"I don't mind him being a bit odd; he is just a sweet man," you replied with a smile. "If you are in the driver's seat, how does he feel... Does he feel exactly the same things as you do?"
"Yes. The same applies to me since he is the one steering." Marc replied, getting up to stretch his back a tad.
As you thought, your nails tapped against the wooden table. A moment later, you stood up and hugged him, wrapping your arms around him. "This must mean he would feel it." You replied and got up on your tippy toes to touch his lips with yours.
Blinking, he gave you a kiss in return, soon putting his hands on your shoulders to keep some distance when the kiss ended. "What was that? You're aware it's me, Marc, aren't you?"
"But Steven definitely felt that," you said with a teasing smile. "And you returned the kiss in the end."
Marc frowned slightly, feeling a bit of blush appearing on his cheeks.
As you walked away, a powerful blow was delivered to Marc's face. "Don't you dare to kiss my Y/N." Steven warned in Marc’s head.
"Steven, don't do that! Marc, are you alright?" You asked worriedly, immediately returning to the man.
The man was holding the bridge of his nose. Mark grimaced, saying, "If he breaks my fucking nose, I'll fucking lock him up somewhere."
"If you do, then I will be the one locking the two of you somewhere and accidentally losing a key,” you warned..” Can I get Steven back, please?"
A sigh escaped Marc's lips. "And what will I get for offering him my handsome body? Nothing. Not even a good word, but fine."
A familiar voice spoke to you soon after the man's eyes rolled back. "I had to hit him. He kissed you."
"Was hitting him worth it?”
Steven growled loudly, shaking his head. "It wasn't."
You gently touched his nose before placing a soft kiss on it. "My poor thing. Don't do that again. Any of you," you said, fully aware now that Marc heard you as well. "I'm glad to see you again."
"Wow... I didn't realize how much it would hurt..."
"Oh, my baby. You need to be careful with that body. You want something cold on that nose?" Your voice was worried as you cupped his cheeks.
Grant nuzzled to your palms. "Yes, I think there is ice in the freezer."
"Sit down."
As soon as he did so, you went to the kitchen and looked into the freezer. Thankfully, there was ice there. Taking a few cubes and wrapping them in a towel, you returned to Steven with them. Placing the towel carefully over his nose, you asked, "Steven?"
As he pressed the cold compress to the base of his nose, his eyes became watery.
When you get better, can we go out for a snack? I didn't eat breakfast because Layla came in and it all turned cold. And I'm hungry." You said shyly.
Instantly, he smiled at you. "Of course, Y/N. You can choose whatever you want."
"I love you."
"I love you too. But please, do not kiss Marc next time. It makes me jealous. I mean, I asked you to be my girlfriend in the end... So please, don't kiss him. Just me. You can kiss me, but don't kiss him."
It was impossible not to laugh. My apologies! I won't kiss him again. Cross on my heart and on the Scarab of Ammit."
"Don't forget he's married. He has a wife he loves. Or that's what he says all the time." Steven rose to put the ice back in the freezer after his nose stopped hurting. "And I love you and I want to keep it this way."
"I'll dress up." After that, you ran to the bathroom to get ready for the day with Steven.
Steven smiled at you, but his smile disappeared as soon as you left the room.
Then he walked to the mirror and stood before it. "Don't you dare to touch my girlfriend," Steven said, pointing his index finger at the surface of the glass. "It was the very last time, Spector."
Marc reminded in a scolding tone, "And you don't put your hands on my wife."
"Deal."
"Okay, then, but I gotta admit, your girlfriend is a pretty decent kisser."
The redness on Steven's face increased as he gasped in anger. "Spector, quit it!" He commanded.
"I was teasing ya, buddy. Now get ready for your date."
Steven spent the rest of the day with you by his side. Your empathy and not treating him as a weirdo won him over. You were very kind to him, and didn't judge his mental state; instead you treated him like a normal man. You always understood the significance of things. You were that listening ear, the one who would wrap Steven in your love just with your soft face, tiny smile dancing in the corners of your lips and kind words.
Finding true happiness, Steven felt that it was what he had been searching for so long.
A One-time Job || Marc Spector x Reader
Vol 2
Summary: Who would have thought crushing a scooter could lead to a tomb robbery, which in turn may lead to a steamy night with a handsome fella?
Warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex
Word count: circa 8090
Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant & Reader
Authors: Fenrir & Cass
Rating: explicit! (+18)
A/N: Because this fanfic does not follow canon story, Marc does not have a romantic connection to Layla
As the eventide sky bloomed red, the land cooled, and as Marc came to love the black skies and the moonlight, Egypt became part of Spector's soul in a way that he couldn't sometimes comprehend.
His love for sand grew over time; the sand dunes were the playful waves of the desert, they rose and fell as if the desert was breathing.
A desert that he loved so much taught him how to do so much with so little, to adapt and overcome in a way that allows life to thrive.
Marc Spector was a former mercenary who was left for dead in the desert; a person rejected by society at some point.
After the Moon God spared Marc's life, it was time for Marc to embark on a process of scouting the road less traveled, checking its safety, making sure it leads to someplace of greater importance than sticking to well-known routes. To undertake such an exploration, it took courage, a pure seed of faith, and a firm commitment to do what was right. Marc, however, was not the type of man to be easily scared - he accepted his new role with full awareness and promised to fight the crime as the Moon Knight.
A new quest awaited Marc - he got a tip about ancient artifact smugglers raiding Egyptian tombs, and they apparently were working with no one else but Arthur Harrow himself.
Despite preferring to work on his own, Marc accidentally got a young woman involved in the business during the manhunt he conducted last week. It was impossible for him to foresee that a girl would park her scooter in such a narrow alley, almost in the middle of it. He probably wouldn't crush it with the car he stole if the scooter was parked closer to the building, but shit happened.
It was exactly how he ended up in one of Cairo's bars, drinking whiskey and scanning the room with careful, brown eyes, looking for the person he was set up with.
To say the least, you were pissed. Your scooter was crushed, the dude left his number, and he almost fled. Fortunately, he was more honest than you thought, because the number was real.
You walked into the bar he had set up for the meeting. Before entering, you adjusted your jacket and took a deep breath.
As soon as he spotted you entering, he raised his hand to signal his location.
You waved and walked up closer to him as you gave him a soft smile. "So, little break from crushing scooters and running after people?" You asked, sitting next to him.
"A little." He was trying to follow the joke. Please accept my sincere apologies once again, miss."
"Oh, it's okay. I just broke my only mode of transportation." You shrugged, waving at the bartender. "How will you repay me?" You asked openly.
"What do you want? I can write you a check or...," He hung his tone, "I have another suggestion."
The last offer caught your attention, and you moved closer. "Other proposition? I don't take payments in nature."
Your face caught his attention as he studied it with his own brown eyes; you were a very pretty girl, he had to admit. You contrasted the soft features of your face, rosy lips, and perfectly shaped brows with the full curves of your hips as you sat next to him in tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt. "I didn't mean that. Well, since you're from here, I think your knowledge might be useful to me."
As you stared at him, you couldn't help but admit; if it wasn't for him crushing your scooter, you would happily hit on him on your night out. He was quite handsome. "I'm from here indeed, but what can I do to help you?"
As he tapped his fingers on his glass, he said, more to himself than to you, "So I think you'd find it easy to get into somewhere."
You nodded as the bartender brought you a drink and said, "Possibly, it depends on what place you mean. I won't help you get into a bank or anything like that. What's your plan?"
"I'm heading for the east side of the desert, where there is a tomb that has not yet been opened. That's my destination."
As you sipped your drink, you frowned.
If that asshole hadn't crushed your scooter, you would've ridden there yourself. Did you have a competition to find a treasure? "Oh really?" You asked, trying to make the most casual tone you could muster. "What would you find there? It's just an old tomb."
"There is a smugglers group that raids tombs, stealing artifacts, gold, and other things. I want to track them down and stop them."
"So you're some kind of secret police?" You laughed and patted all of your pockets. "Great. Hey? Do you smoke?"
"I do. Do you need a lighter?"
Taking out your lighter, you sighed, "I need a cigarette." Your lighter was empty.
Marc pulled Chesterfields from the pocket of his leather jacket. He offered one to you.
After thanking him, you took a cigarette and lit it. "Well..." You hummed, taking a drag of the cigarette. "Since we discuss such things, I suggest we change the location to a less public one. We can meet at my home."
He got up, nodding at you.
After finishing your drink and paying for it, you showed him the way to your place. "I usually use it for work and as a hiding place." You told him before opening the door to let him in.
The flat was filled with books, maps, and souvenirs from all over the world.
Despite the messiness of your apartment, he thought it was an interesting place.
Marc rubbed his fingertips against the books on one of the shelves.
As you sat on the bed with your laptop on your lap, you hummed and said, "The valley on the east side of the desert, you say... Are you just looking for that group or are you looking for something specific within it?"
"I want to retrieve the things they will steal."
"What do you mean?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. "I have a feeling there's more to it than you tell me."
"Only artifacts. We both know they have one purpose. And I know they have been observing this place for at least two weeks."
As you typed something on your laptop, you nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't there much. I would know more if someone hadn't crushed my scooter."
While inspecting your locum further, Marc rolled his eyes. "I apologized."
"I am kidding, don't get angry. I was searching for a way to open this tomb too, but I couldn't find a key to open the door. But what I did find was this," you showed him the picture on your laptop. "Can you see this?" You asked him as you touched the screen.
Crouching next to your bed, he watched the screen. "I guess it's some kind of riddle."
"Exactly!" You placed the laptop on the bed, slipped off of it, and sat on the floor next to him with the picture right in front of you both. "Well, you are almost entirely right. This is indeed a riddle. But you see those little gaps? That is a hidden entrance with the riddle as an opening mechanism."
Suddenly, it struck him. "My guess is that it is a Ptolemaic hinge."
"You think?" You pondered this and grimaced. "Wait! Of course! Why didn't I think about that?"
He replied, "Sometimes all you need is the right perspective."
"Or a proper partner in crime." You giggled all excitedly. "Shall we begin preparations? Should we rest first?"
Your words made him chuckle. "I don't even know your name, sweetheart."
You stared at him a bit shocked, and then it hit you. Your cheeks turned red. "Oh, shit! Right! Sorry. I am Y/N and you are..?"
"Marc." He reached out his hand to you. He shook your hand with a firm grasp.
Squeezing his hand firmly, you nodded. "Nice to meet you, Marc. What are your plans?"
"I think that would be the most effective way of getting around there," he pointed to a spot on the screen, "Before midnight, and just wait for them to show up."
"And what will we do when they arrive?"
He replied, cryptically, "And this, my dear Y/N, will be something interesting."
As you looked at your laptop, you smiled and said, "I'll take my gun. Great. I'll go get ready so we can leave."
"Wait. Wait. Let's set everything up. I have my motives to catch them, but what about yours?"
"I travel a lot, and I like to end up somewhere I shouldn't just to see an ancient temple or old ruins. In a nutshell, I like adventures. But my main reason is that I'm trying to get a guy named Harrow. He killed my uncle to steal some artifacts he had in his collection. What are you really after, Marc?"
"I cannot unfold them yet, but I think you will understand me better tomorrow for we both have a common foe." Marc replied, getting up. "I should leave to prepare."
"Fine, when and where should we meet? Just so we're on the same page." You questioned, looking up at him.
"Tomorrow at 10 pm, we'll meet at the bar where we met today. From there, we'll drive as close as we can."
Nodding, you confirmed, "Tomorrow, 10 pm, at the bar. Got it, and I'll be there ready to go. It's so exciting!" It was nearly impossible not to giggle with joy.
Marc offered you a surprised glance; the last thing he expected was a girl he just met fangirling about a possible upcoming exchange of fire.
Once Marc left, you couldn't help but jump in place from pure excitement. Your entire plan sounded so amazing that it seemed like a dream.
When all the emotions had subsided, you decided to start getting ready for tomorrow so that you would be fully prepared.
Marc waited for you on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette and checking his phone from time to time.
As you sat next to him, you casually asked, "Is my partner in crime ready for some fun?" The clothing you wore was carefully chosen in order not to scratch you, but also to prevent you from getting heatstroke.
A look was given to you; you wore tight, fitted combat pants, black boots, and a white shirt with thick stripes. "Hi. Much. And you? From what I can see, you also took some time to prepare for this event."
"Of course. Who would enter an ancient tomb without getting ready. Especially when we might be pursued by smugglers. From experience, I know they love to carry guns." You confirmed, tightening your shoelaces.
A holster was attached to his thick, leather belt. "I'm ready too, so nothing will surprise us."
You nodded enthusiastically as you said, "I have one too. So we are safe and sound on this adventure, I believe. We know where we need to go but how will we open the door?"
"I think I'll be able to open the door."
You immediately perked up. "You know how?! When did you solve it? How?!"
"Trust me." Marc briefly ran his fingers against your chin, smirking. "Get in, Y/N."
Immediately after letting out a quiet purr, you laughed for a moment. You followed him into the car. "Before we get there, I want to settle one more thing with you."
Taking a comfortable seat in the driver's seat, he closed the door. "Yes?" Marc asked, placing his arm on the back of your seat.
You looked at him fully seriously and said, "We enter in together and leave together no matter what happens. Can I rely on you, Marc?" When the questions dropped you offered him your hand.
Taking your hand, he said, "Deal. And after we're done, we won't return to your crushed scooter."
"Oh! Thank you for reminding me about that!" Nodding, you laughed and rolled your eyes as you settled into your passage seat. "Don't worry. The deal is the deal, but I honestly forgot about this already."
"You're fast at forgetting things." He joked, starting the engine.
Soon, you two got close to the tomb.
You had to park the car at a decent distance from the destination so as not to be seen.
Marc and you walked through the sand, keeping an eye on the surroundings.
You couldn't get rid of the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't your first adventure, but you still felt like a kid in a candy store. It was more than exciting. You were curious about how he solved the entry problem, and you couldn't wait to see what he found in the tomb. "Based on what I see, I think we are the first ones here, or maybe they have already entered." You said, trying to see something in almost complete darkness if not counting the dim light of the moon.
"Down!" Marc snapped at you and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to lay flat on the sand. "Look carefully over there." He snapped, pointing to the tomb's entrance where two dark figures stood.
He removed the backpack he was wearing and pulled out a pair of binoculars. You received it after he checked them. "What are you seeing?"
Sighing deeply, you looked through the binoculars. When you looked closer, it didn't look as good as you had hoped.
At this point, you had a sense that there was more going on than just a 'smuggler group'.
It looked more like something out of a cult. So many goons were present. "My little eye detects cars and goons. Lots of goons with guns. I think I see Harrow.... He is standing there when they try to open the front door for him. What next?"
Marc announced, "We'll visit them."
The binoculars were moved away from your face as you asked him, "Excuse me? Ya just want to walk up there, say 'hi' and politely ask them to let us in first?”
"Cool your horses. I told you I have a plan. Come on."
Raising your eyebrows, you glanced in the direction of the tomb. You weren't sure whether or not you liked it, but you had an agreement after all, and you really wanted to get inside. In the end, you followed him.
As two of you sneaked closer to the tomb and group of people, he instructed, "Be careful and prepared. You can use the gun if needed."
As you looked around carefully, you stayed close to him. You hissed in a quiet voice, "That's right, but only two guns against a few machine guns isn't a good match. This doesn't add up."
Marc waved at you to calm you down. "Be quiet. Stop panicking."
Upon getting close enough to you, the man made you crouch, so the two of you remained in the darkness of the desert.
As you watched how they tried to open the gate, the two of you exchanged glances.
Marc muttered under his breath, "They're deluded."
Looking at everything that was happening, you whispered, "Yes, indeed. Trying to open it this way will take them ages." Looking around one more time, you tried to figure out whether the two of you could possibly work it out.
"Just hurry up and open the tomb!" Arthur himself yelled loudly to his men. "We've already wasted enough time. Let's not waste more of it."
Marc looked at you. "Stay close." He emerged from your hideout in the shadows moments later. "It's been a long time, Harrow. You can't even use a Ptolemaic hinge properly, as I can see."
While you watched him in shock, you remained silent. As a result, you just observed what was happening at this point.
"Steven... Or is it Marc at this point? I can see you finally got here." Harrow greeted him with a flat smile. "You must be desperate to come here by yourself."
The specter approached the other man, tapping his chin. "What's inside that you hired those idiots to get into? They have no clue what they're doing. Also," he gestured at you to join him, "I'm not alone."
Only your eyes were visible from your hiding spot as they glistened in the dim moonlight. With a frown on your face, you left your hiding spot to join Marc just like he wanted, even if you didn't like it. Slowly, you walked to Marc's side. "Hi?"
"This one is completely new to me. You're changing allies so quickly." Arthur chuckled.
"I know you!" You growled loudly. "Your goons killed my uncle for an artifact. I saw you on the recording!”
Harrow gave you a gentle smile for a moment. The nice man who wasn't keen on giving away something I needed? That is a shame. I'm sorry, but this is more important than one life."
If Marc had not grabbed your shoulder, you probably would have jumped on Arthur right away.
A fake smile appeared on Marc's face and he turned to you, leaning forward so that only you could hear his words, "Calm down. You will be able to avenge your uncle, but not now. Put your emotions aside and concentrate."
Mark walked to the wall of the tomb, counted something in his mind, and pushed one of the huge stones. This caused a huge granite block to move aside, revealing a narrow corridor inside.
As you ran up to Marc, your eyes widened and you gasped loudly. In spite of everything, you asked, "How did you do that?!"
Harrow said simply, "Isn't that cute? You've found someone who shares your interests. Such a shame it's over. Get rid of them both!"
When the first shots were fired, you cursed and ran for cover. "This is not how I expected it to turn out!"
Marc screamed, pressing his back against the stone wall, reloading his gun after a few shots were fired. "Go ahead, I'll cover you! Take whatever you find!"
"You... Are you sure?!" You screamed, hiding behind the cover again, firing a few shots yourself. "I won't leave you here alone!"
Marc yelled, waving his hand briefly at you. "Go!"
"Don't die here!" You followed his command and ran into the narrow corridor.
Being unfamiliar with what you could find here did not make it easy at all. "Fucking hell..." You groaned once you got further into the tomb.
Marc managed to shoot two of Harrow's smugglers. As long as he wasn't sure the group had rearranged their positions, he stayed under cover. When he realized the group had changed positions, he ran after you.
After a moment of walking, you stopped in front of the two different corridors. There was one going left and one going right.
As you took a deep breath, you tried to decide which way to turn when someone grabbed your shoulder. The first thing you tried to do was to punch the person who grabbed you, but when you saw Marc's face, your fist stopped. "Oh, thank God. Are you ok?"
"Don't ask silly questions now, let's go." He pulled your hand, taking your left side.
The two of you soon entered a large chamber with a stone altar in the middle.
As you looked around, you couldn't believe what you were seeing. It was better than you had ever imagined. All the hieroglyphs and sculptures were in almost pristine condition. "Look at all that!" You exclaimed excitedly and then realized you were still holding his hand.
After clearing your throat, you let go of it and looked at the altar. "Do you think it's there?"
Mark said, not realizing he was holding your hand tightly. "Picture the hieroglyphs on the walls, and I'll collect everything."
Several artifacts, as well as a golden Anubis statue, were soon placed in the backpack. "Come on! Let's find a way out."
You were taking the last picture before putting your phone in the pocket. "There should be a hidden path somewhere in this area. We just need to find it."
Marc rummaged through his pockets and cursed. "Y/N! Lighter!"
No time for a smoke break!" you joked, but quickly fumbled in your pocket to get your lighter.
He lit it and put his hand up. A slight windblow put out the fire soon after. "This way."
You nodded and followed him, grabbing your lighter from him as you passed.
Smugglers and Harrow were on a manhunt after you, so you could hear their screams.
You checked to make sure that your escape path was not visible before running after Marc until the two of you reached the outside world. "Are we safe now?"
As he ran alongside you, suddenly he lost his footing and rolled down a dune, pulling you behind him.
As he stopped rolling at the base of the dune, he laughed. "Yes. You bet we are! And they got fucking angry at this point for being fucked by one unstable mentally ill man and a beautiful woman by his side."
You laughed as well, resting your hand on his chest and resting your chin on it briefly. "Oh, I bet they're pissed, and c'mon! Don't call yourself that! Not to ruin the moment but we should leave before they decide to go back outside. We can celebrate in my flat."
Marc handled the bag for you and got up, following you back to his car.
You felt safest in the car when both of you were sitting in it.
You looked at him as you placed the bag on your lap. "Let's get outta here."
He started the engine and drove off. "So you saw Harrow before?"
"In a way, yeah. I had no idea who he was, but I tried to find him. I didn't succeed until today." You nodded, stretching your legs. "Is he your old buddy from school or something?”
"Acquaintance." He replied shortly. "Open the bag."
As he asked, you opened the bag. "You picked up a lot of stuff. I see gold, artifacts, and manuscripts. I hope I can take something. I need a souvenir from such an adventure." You pulled out an old, nice-looking bracelet and shrugged. "The finder keeps the find."
When he saw you rummaging through the backpack so eagerly, he smiled. "It will suit you. Hey, where would you like me to drop you off?"
"We should stop a few streets away from the flat. We can buy some beer, go to my place by foot, and then celebrate."
"Are you inviting me over?" He asked, smiling wryly at you. "And two days ago you were about to send the police after me."
"I still can, so don't push my buttons, Marc. A woman never forgets." You warned him by placing the bag next to your legs. "To answer your question, I will invite you over a second time. For whatever happened back there, we need to drink. That was something."
He nodded, remaining a tad silent while he was driving.
As you stated, the car was parked or rather left a few blocks away.
While he was on his way to your flat, Marc bought some alcohol, keeping an eye on the backpack you were carrying.
It was a peaceful walk to the flat, filled with chatting.
When you arrived at the place, you opened the door and let him in. You placed the bag on the couch and looked at him. "Maybe you'd like to take a shower after such an adventure? I need it desperately, especially after you rolled me in the sand."
Trying to keep a straight face after hearing your offer, he cocked his brow.
Taking off the shoes, you muttered, "I have more sand in my hair than in my boots. I'll go first."
"Your flat, your rules." Marc replied, watching you disappear into another room.
When he heard the shower running, he dived into his backpack and pulled out several manuscripts. "Steven, wake up. Will you be able to read and translate those? Remember that we're looking for any clues about the Ankh Amulet."
As soon as Marc's eyes rolled back and Steven took charge, the man sat down on the floor, spread the sheets out in front of him, and ran his fingers along the verses. "I think I can. I'm not really proficient at ancient Egyptian, but Layla might be able to help." Steven's attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of a shower. "Wait a minute, we aren't in the hotel room. Where are we?"
Marc replied after overtaking the body, "It's none of your business. And don't you dare to mention anything to Layla."
Standing under the warm water, you hummed happily at the sensation. Lastly, you were able to get rid of all the sweat and sand you accumulated from that wonderful trip. Your excitement still lingered in the back of your mind. You thought about Marc. He was an interesting fella and you hoped to get to know him better.
You dried yourself off after the shower, tucked your hair in a bun, and dressed.
Since you were at home, you wore shorts and a checkered shirt.
You remembered to prepare clean towels for your guest.
You left the bathroom and smiled as you saw the manuscripts on the floor. "My, oh my, you are getting right to work."
A smirk appeared on his face. "Do you by any chance know an ancient Egyptian?" Marc asked with a hopeful tone.
"I don't know much about it, but perhaps I can look online." You shrugged, looking over his shoulder.
"Ok, no need to, it's fine." He gave a short reply.
"Go take a shower. It helps with thinking." You encouraged. "I left a towel for you there."
"Thank you." He said, getting up. After you showed him the way, Marc left for the bathroom.
Before walking to the kitchen, you glanced at all the manuscripts and shook your head.
It only took him a few minutes to remove dirt, sweat, and sand from his body. He appreciated you letting him use the shower. Having only known him for three days, he expected you to be more cautious having him in your flat.
You were sitting on the countertop with a cigarette in your hand and a bottle of beer next to you when he left the bathroom.
Because of your really short shorts, it looked like you would be sitting only in your shirt since your legs hung in the air. Your hair was already down as well.
Marc improved his jeans in the corridor. His eyes immediately fell on your legs.
Men are visualisers by nature, and it was exactly who Spector was as well. Observing your long legs with perfectly shaped calves, he could sense that your body was lean and tense with smooth, silky skin on top. After clearing his throat, he said, "Thanks for your hospitality."
You shook your head and handed him a bottle of beer. "No problem. At least this is something I can do. Now we can relax and rest before our next adventure."
Marc accepted the bottle, thanked again, and sat down at the table. "Your enthusiasm for the adventure is contagious. Do you have anything specific in mind or do you just want to feel the tension, excitement and desire?"
"I just love to explore. To see those places untouched by men for centuries, to see their mysteries and beauty. And you?"
"I have personal reasons that I'm not eager to share. Please forgive me." He apologized softly.
Giving him a nod, you smiled softly. "I'm not pressing, no need to apologize."
"You were brave back there."
"Says the guy who just walks up to the bad guy, saying hi as if he was his best friend." You laughed and took a sip of beer before taking a drag. As you shook some of the ash into the ashtray, you shrugged. "Not my first trip, and not the first time I've been shot at. I'm used to it."
"The way you look, I wouldn't say so. You look like a girl from a wealthy family, standing aside from all the trouble."
As you laughed, you brushed your still wet hair with your hand. "I guess we have something in common. You look alike, yet you step on the tail of the smuggler with the utmost vigor for some reason."
Taking another sip from his bottle, he chuckled a bit.
You took another sip, rocking your legs a little.
Marc got up, taking another look around your flat. "Are you living here alone?"
"I mostly use it to rest, prepare, and plan during my travel breaks." You explained, watching him. "Is it strange for a girl to live alone?" You asked.
"No," Marc replied honestly, "I was just wondering whether your boyfriend wasn't getting jealous of you living on your own."
"Well, he would have to exist first in order to be jealous." You concluded. "There's no need to worry about someone coming in and beating you for being here. Well, unless you annoy the hell out of me, in which case I'll do it myself."
A voice in Marc's head said, "Tough one," but Spector ignored it.
As he downed his bottle, he turned to face you. "I just wanted to know."
"Now you know. So what about you? Your wife or girlfriend won't mind if you work with a woman?" You asked, taking a drag of your cigarette. "I'm sure that I would."
"I don't have anyone." He replied honestly. Having anything to do with me won't result in you being pursued by any girlfriend or wife."
"Two singles! We're so lucky! Kind of sad." You sighed.
"What do you mean?" Marc asked, setting the empty bottle on the kitchen counter and lighting up a cigarette.
"Stop fucking talking and instead start acting, Spector." The voice within his head seemed relentless. "She likes you, I sense it."
You shrugged, finishing your beer. "What I mean is that it would be nice to return home to someone who cares and misses you." After saying it you hopped off the counter and grabbed one more beer. "You want another one?"
He followed you and took the offered bottle out of your hand. "Thank you, Y/N."
"No problem, Marc.” You gave him a smile. "Since you like to end up in odd places with odd people, let me show you where I ended up during my travels."
This is how the evening unfolded.
Marc just saw your pictures from each place, and you told him about what actually happened. It was fun talking to someone who listened to you.
You didn't stop at just two beers each, so after a while things got a little loose.
"It was a big, old ship!" You giggled, telling him one of the stories.
Marc laid with his head on your lap at that point, looking up at you and chuckling whenever you said something funny or got excited about something ordinary. You had a very cheerful attitude, and he regretted not having met you before.
Marc ignored Khonshu's plea to move his ass and not let the girl decide what to do; he had been sick of God's bullshit for the past few weeks.
Marc reached up to play with a strand of your loosened hair. "Ya pretty." He complimented you out of the blue.
When his words made you freeze, you were playing with his hair and giggling at your own story. You stared at him with confusion. He may not have meant it, but it was actually nice of him. "Thank you. You aren't that bad-looking either."
Laughing, he rolled his head back a little, his eyes closed. "Don't pretend you don't like me that way. Come on, I know I've got your attention."
"Maybe you did. Even if you did, what then? I think you're handsome." You were honest, immediately regretting saying it as your cheeks were covered in blush.
He looked at you, smirking. "Knew it." Playing with your hair, he touched the side of your neck, letting his hand slide down your collarbone, to your décolleté.
You raised an eyebrow just observing, curious to know what he would do next. "I see your hands like to wonder, huh Marc?"
With his index finger, he gently lowered the neckline of the shirt, peering inside. "Hmm. Nice boobs."
You chuckled and slapped his hand away, rolling your eyes. "I didn't say you could look in there."
"What if I want?"
When you looked at him, you got a nice idea that was probably affected by the alcohol, but you didn't care about it. "Well, then you should pay for that pleasure."
He slowly sat up, furrowing his brows, looking at you. "Like? Pay how?"
As you gently caressed his cheek, you said, "You need to pay like this." Your lips gently caressed his as you pulled him into a sweet kiss.
Your taste spilled onto his tongue, and he let out a moan, making out with you slowly, letting his tongue dance with yours as one of his hands instinctively cupped your breast and kneaded them.
As his rough hands played with your breast, you let out a quiet moan. You smiled as you pulled away from the kiss to grab the hem of his shirt so you could pull it over his head.
Having let you do so without protest, he immediately shifted his kisses to your jawline and to the side of your neck. A low grunt came from his lips as he kissed your warm skin.
A soft sound escaped your lips as you felt his kisses on your skin. Having someone so close again felt good. Your hand moved slowly to his chest. You felt each scar on his body.
Marc quickly pulled away to help you take the shirt off. "You're so goddamn pretty, Y/N."
At this point, you didn't try to hide from him since there was no point. You were completely naked in front of him. "Do you mean that or is that just alcohol talking?"
"I meant all of what I said." Marc growled, stealing another kiss as he cupped your breasts in his hands, massaging them, brushing his thumbs over your already hardened nipples. "Look at you, doll."
As his lips touched yours, you gasped, purring happily. Your palms rested on his shoulders and you straddled him, pushing him a little down. "I would rather look at you, handsome."
He laid comfortably on the mattress, immediately grasping your hips, massaging you there. "Look at you. So eager."
"Difficult to not be eager with you by my side. Especially after our little adventure." You hummed as you ran your hands down his chest, softly scratching his skin with your nails while rolling your hips to grind against him. "Is that your gun or you are just as eager as I am, Marc?"
He chuckled darkly to himself, caressing the curves of your hips and waist. "Well, well. You're so hot, Y/N."
His hand traveled down his body and Marc adjusted himself within his jeans as the bulge became uncomfortable for him. "This is what you're doing to me."
"Oh really? I feel flattered to hear that. Shall I help you again?"
He couldn't take his eyes off you; your face flushed with blush, eyes glistened with sparkles of desire and need of closeness, your breath hitched. "Yes." He demanded within a soft tone.
"So demanding. You need to receive some more attention. I will take care of you,"
After those words, you leaned down to kiss him deeply one more time before moving to his neck. While he caressed the curves of your hips and waist, he chuckled darkly to himself. "Well, well, you're so hot, Y/N." Marc said as he adjusted himself within his jeans as the bulge became uncomfortable for him. "That's what you're doing to me."
"Oh really? I feel flattered to hear that. Shall I help you again?"
He could not take his eyes off of you; your face was flushed with blush, your eyes gleamed with desire and need, your breath was tense. "Yes." He demanded in a soft voice.
"So demanding. You need to receive some more attention. I will take care of you." After these words, you leaned down to kiss him deeply one more time before moving to his neck. Next, you positioned yourself between his legs. As you stroked him through his pants, you giggled, "I wonder if you'll fit in. I can already see you are big."
With one hand on your cheek, he stroked you there with his thumb as his upper body rested on his elbow. Marc bit his lower lip as he observed you carefully. With one hand, he unbuckled his belt.
Not breaking eye contact with him, you bit your lip and nuzzled his hand.
Soon, he undid the fly of his jeans and pulled his cock out, giving himself a stroke.
Your palm wrapped around him and you stroked him yourself. After placing a brief kiss on his hand, you leaned down to swirl your tongue around his tip.
He gasped, not stopping himself from looking down at you.
Your warm tongue moved around his tip before you moved away a bit, giving him a few strokes. Then, after sending him one last smile, you wrapped your lips around his cock tightly. Purring around him, you swallowed as much of him as possible.
Marc started grunting loudly, instantly slipping one of his hands into your loosened hair to deepen your moves. "Such a good girl, just like that, sweet bean."
As you hummed happily at his praises, you continued sucking his cock. Your palm moved to his balls to massage and play with them gently.
Marc's muscles tensed as the blissful feeling spread across his body. He rolled his head back and laid comfortably on the bed, stroking your scalp with one of his hands.
You pulled away, replacing your mouth with your palm. "Feeling good? How about we try something better?'
He raised his head and gave you a look. "Yes to whatever you have to offer, doll."
"Look at you. So eager." You chuckled and sat up. Giving him a look, you started slowly removing your shorts, showing nothing else under them.
"Fuck." He whispered to himself, admiring your nakedness and smooth, tanned skin.
You made sure to stretch a little bit to fully present yourself to him. Then, you once again straddled him, wrapping your hand around his cock. Soon, you slowly slid down on him, letting out a moan as his cock stretched your pussy.
His hand instantly found its way to your hip where he gently massaged you, letting out a soft grunt, rolling his head back, resting it against the mattress. "Fuck. Oh, fuck, Y/N."
You rolled your hips, looking at him with a smirk on your lips. "Feels right, sweetie? You feel so good, so deep in, fuck."
"So good." Marc replied, gasping heavily and stroking your curves.
You started to move faster, moving on his cock while playing with your boobs. His name was like a prayer that you repeated, moaning just for him.
He moved his hands up your body, resting them on your breasts, kneading them, and brushing your nipples.
"Such a softie in bed. Who would have thought?" You teased, placing your palms on his hands.
He enjoyed your touch on his palms but your words made him a tad angry. Therefore, he pushed you off himself and rolled on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress.
Gasping loudly, you looked up at him and giggled. Not even a little were you scared of this, it was what you were waiting for.
He pushed himself back into your core, humming softly as he attacked your neck with kisses.
"Fuck, Marc." You moaned loudly, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as your hands moved into his hair.
His hips moved rhythmically back and forth; he was gasping as your inner walls squeezed his member.
You whimpered, feeling your climax approaching. Just as you expected, you cum soon around him, moaning his name as loud as possible.
He kept on fucking your pussy until he shot his warm semen in your core, biting on your neck with a loud grunt escaping his parted lips.
You squeaked, surprised by the bite, but instead of being mad you simply giggled, wrapping your arms around him "I see I have an animal in bed."
He crushed his lips against yours, moaning and whining, still bucking his hips into you.
Soon yet, he pulled out, making sure to jerk all of the cum drops that left on him on your pussy.
You gasped, kissing him before you pulled away with a cocky smile on your lips. "Well, well, well, fancy to leave me a little souvenir?"
"Maybe." Marc replied with a cocky smirk dancing on his lips.
Laughing, you cupped his cheek to press one more kiss to his lips before you moved a little to reach into the drawer of your bedside table. "You wanna smoke?"
He kissed his way down your body, flicking his tongue around one of your nipples. "Uh-uh. Thanks."
You took the pack of cigarettes, lighter, and little ashtray out of the drawer, and lit one.
He soon laid down by your side, sliding hands under his head.
"I hope you will stay for the night." You said, lying comfortably next to him.
"Ask nicely and I'll think of it."
You laughed and sat up on the bed to locate his shirt. Once you did, you grabbed it and put it on to quickly lay back by his side, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "It wasn't a question, to be honest."
His strong arm was wrapped around your waist as he smiled. "Bossy."
Shrugging with a proud smile, you gave him a glance. "Maybe a little."
"A little?"
"Yes, a little." You repeated, nodding.
He played with your loosened hair. "You're a cutie. Sexy cutie. Imagine waking up buried in that sweet pussy of yours."
"I never said you cannot do that. You won't wake up here alone." Turning on your side, you looked at him, admiring how handsome he was.
Marc reached for his boxers and pulled them up, offering you a place on his chest.
You quickly finished with your cigarette and put it in the ashtray to gladly accept the offer, getting comfortable on his chest.
He chuckled. "I would never say we'll end up fucking after I crushed your scooter."
"Oh! Thanks for reminding me. Where is my money, Marc!?” You growled playfully. Finally, you could get some rest after a day full of adventure.
As you were slowly waking up, you nuzzled to your pillow.
You turned around so that you could nuzzle Marc, feeling soberer than yesterday.
What an amazing day yesterday was! Honestly, in the morning you hoped for fun, but it didn't come.
He sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, with his hair messy, and was visibly trembling, quietly sobbing.
As you opened your eyes, you frowned softly. Worried, you sat up and crept closer. "Marc? What's wrong?"
The man jumped up from his place, looking at you slightly above his shoulder. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Did... Did I disgrace you... Oh, God..."
Confused, you laughed nervously, not sure what's going on. Did he regret last night? "You did and no need to be sorry, we both wanted this... Right?”
"Oh my God." The man replied and dared to look at you; his chin was shaking, eyes watery. "I'm so sorry."
"Hey, hey. Calm down." You moved even closer and dared to wrap your arm around his shoulder. "Marc? What got into you?"
"I'm not Marc! I'm Steven. With the 'v'. I'm not Marc... Can you imagine how awful it is to wake up with the taste of dry wine in your mouth when you didn't drink it..."
Since you've had similar accidents on your own in the past, you were actually familiar with the feeling. However, it definitely wasn't the right time to admit something like this, so instead, you blinked confused. "H... How Steven? I... I don't understand.."
"I'm Steven Grant. I'm a gift shop-ist... I work in the museum... And I apparently got laid! Please tell me we had a condom…"
"We didn't, but I take pills, so don't worry." You said, shaking your head. "So, yesterday it was Marc, and today it's Steven? Can you explain? I don't get it right now."
"Marc? Was he here? I don't remember giving the control to him..."
"Yes, he was here... We robbed a tomb together and then we had some fun here." You replied slowly, confused.
"He did it again. He stole. How could he do that? Oh God, we are going to be damned."
You were at a loss at this point. There was no way you could have known what was going on. He was more nervous than you ever were. Steven, is that right?" You patted his shoulder and smiled as soon as he looked at you. "I will change, give you back your t-shirt, and I'll make breakfast while we talk. Sounds good to you?"
"I... I don't know you..." He claimed slowly. "I... Where are we.... I need to get back to London. Gus! Gus will starve to death!"
"My name is Y/N. I met the other you when he crashed my scooter and we had a nice adventure together. Currently, you are in Egypt."
"Are you hurt? Do you need help?"
"No, no, I am fully fine. No need to worry about me, Steven." You shook your head, patting his shoulder.
He nodded and was about to say something but suddenly his eyes rolled back and the familiar voice asked, "Oh, you got up so early."
"Okay... You tell me what the hell is going on here or I punch you in that pretty nose of yours." You frowned.
Marc rubbed his temple and sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I have some… Personality issues. It’s a long story. It’s just a dissociative identity disorder, I was told.”
You moved closer and dropped your legs over his. "So? There is like... Two of you? You, a badass, and that poor, confused British guy?”
He looked at you hesitantly. "Yes, actually yes."
"That must be tough." You nuzzled his arm.
He didn't comment, just nodded. "It is. Hope you won't take me for a weirdo now."
"Don't be stupid. I have never met anyone like you before, but that doesn't mean you are a terrible one." You smiled and got out of bed to remove his shirt. As you walked to the kitchen, you picked up your shirt from the floor and put it on before saying, "Time for breakfast. I have nothing else in the fridge but beer and eggs."
The morning with Marc went like this. During breakfast, you talked and smoked cigarettes.
You didn't want him to leave, but at the same time, you couldn't keep him.
You walked to Marc as he was getting ready to leave. "Hey, Marc?”
As he adjusted the stripes of his backpack on his shoulder, he raised his head, looking up at you. "Yes?"
He didn't want to leave; rather, he wanted to stay as long as possible. Marc felt secure and safe by your side.
"I know you have to go," you sighed, nervously playing with your palms, "But I want you to know that if you need assistance in another robbery or just some company, you have my number."
Your nose was kissed by him. "Given our shared love of adventure, I will use your number soon."
Your eyes rolled as you laughed, blushing. "I hope so, but remember that my help isn't cheap, love. Now go before I try to stop you. Please, take proper care of yourself."
He held you tightly in his arms, brushing his cheek against yours, whispering, "See you soon." Moments later, he was gone.
As you sighed deeply and rubbed your warm cheek, you realized you had a crush on that man.
After Marc left, you returned to your regular routine and started planning another adventure.
“I love you for who you are” || Steven Grant x Reader
Summary: As you look for a new dress, you make Steven all hot for you. When you get home, you may discover just how horny he's become
Rating: explicit! (+18)
Warnings: unprotected sex, Khonshu & Marc being slightly mean to Steven 🥺
Word count: circa 3500
Pairing: Steven Grant & Reader
Authors: Fenrir & Cass
You carefully examined the dresses that you chose. Finding the right one wasn't easy. Thus far, you have selected a few, but that's all. All you needed was a dress that would be suitable for warm weather. Fortunately, you weren't alone. Since you couldn't pick just one, you enlisted the help of your boyfriend who happened to be in the store with you at the time.
As most would describe Steven, he was an oddball, but you loved him just as much as he loved you. "Steven, I can't just pick one dress. I have an idea!"
He found himself hating shopping with you to the brim, not because you had difficulty making a decision, but because whenever you walked into yet another boutique or clothes store he felt like a lost puppy thrown into an unfamiliar environment.
The dresses, jeans, and shirts you tried on were cute, but he became nervous whenever you said, "Babe, I think this isn't what I'm looking for. Let's check another store." And you made puppy eyes at him. It was a bold move on your part to make them on him, knowing full well he could not say no to you.
Following your call, Steven got up from the couch he was lucky enough to find near the checkout and approached you, holding six more paper bags filled with shoes and clothes you bought from previous stores. "What's the matter, dove?"
Your shoulders slumped as you stared at the dresses you were holding and explained, "Well, this one is cute, but I'm not sure about the back, and this one has such a lovely pattern, so soft, and the last one... Is pink, but has a very nice material..." You shook your head and smiled. "Maybe I should try them on and you can tell me which one is best."
Despite his perfect smile, Steven screamed on the inside: trying on clothes meant more waiting time. "Try them, dove."
You jumped up and kissed his cheek. "This is the last shop we will visit today." You promised and walked with him to the changing room area.
Even though you knew he didn't like shopping, he was still so sweet to join you.
You walked into the changing room, and waved at him before pulling the curtain shut.
With a deep sigh escaping his lips, Steven put the bags on the marble floor and leaned his back against the wall, awaiting for you to show up again. "You know, Y/N, to me you look stunning in everything you wear."
"Thanks! But I want to be the most stunning woman for you!"
The first dress was the cute one as you described it.
Walking out of the changing room, you smiled and turned around, improving your hair. "Look at it. What do you think about this one, love?”
You were examined from head to toe by his brown eyes. He loved the gown you tried on. Steven took a few steps and caught the dress' hem. "It's stunning. The color is appealing to me. The fabric is soft and has a nice structure."
As you touched the fabric, you agreed that it was soft and nice to touch. "It would be perfect for cuddling together."
Steven nodded his head eagerly. "I agree. Let's try another one."
You nodded and quickly retreated back into the changing room. After changing into the second dress, you admired the slightly see-through part for a moment longer in the changing room. You walked out, smoothing the lower part of the dress, presenting yourself to him.
Steven licked his lower lip in admiration of your new look. "It's beautiful, and I love the way you are dressed in pastels. The addition of the fishnet on top leaves a lot of room for speculation, if you know what I mean."
"It's not like you don't know what's under there, sweetie." You teased him, showing off your chest more. "I love it, and I think you do, too."
"This one is definitely the one we're buying. One has left. Try it on."
As you nodded, you walked back into the dressing room and examined the last dress. It was simple and pink. You got a mischievous idea while putting it on. "Steven, would you mind helping me?"
Steven looked at his watch; it was nearly 16:00 and he still hadn't eaten lunch. He sighed again and walked to the changing room, leaving the bags behind. "Yes?"
You grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him in, wrapping your arms around his neck instantly as soon as he was in the changing room with you. "Hello there."
Because he was taken aback by your sudden action, his smile was hesitant. "Hiya, babes."
You kissed him briefly and giggled. "This is the last dress I have for you to look at." And after these words you shifted aside like nothing had happened. "I don't think I like it."
"Why don't you?"
"The dress doesn't show enough. Look at how high I have to pull it in order for you to see my legs." You said lamentingly, pulling the hems of the material to fully reveal your legs to him.
Steven felt the burning on his clean-shaven cheeks, and gasped, "Oh... Oh, wow..". He whispered, looking at your thighs, "I'm a big fan of your legs, you know that, babes... Oh, wow, Gosh."
"So the dress is off so you can have a better look..." You shrugged and took it off, not caring that you were only in your underwear right in front of him.
As he watched your body, he cleared his throat and marveled at your curves. "Babes, you're so dishy."
"Thanks, love. I'll let you see more once we're back home. I would fucking love to have your cock buried deep in my pussy." You hummed, playing with the material of your panties. Shortly after you got closer to him and moved your arms up his chest.
He smiled hesitantly, blushing as he asked, "You wanted my help, I believe?"
"Nah, I just wanted you here, handsome, but I need one tiny thing from you." You nodded, pawing at his jeans jacket. "What about a kiss?
Then he leaned forward and kissed you, easily sliding his tongue past your lips.
In return, you hummed happily, letting him dominate the kiss. You patted his cheek after pulling away. "Go, go! I need to dress up so we can go home."
He tried to adjust himself subtly within his jeans as he became a little too excited seeing you undress as he left the changing room. He had no idea what was happening to him, but enjoyed the sensation nonetheless.
Before heading to checkout with him, you put away the dress you didn't want.
After paying, the two of you were on your way home.
While holding Steven's hand, you smiled at him. "It was only a small chain yank but it turned out to be a lot more for you, luv. Apparently you got excited, huh?"
"A tad too much." He nodded his head as the two of you walked through London streets to your shared flat.
"We can take care of this when we return home." You assured him, kissing his cheek.
"It's not necessary..." Steven replied hesitantly.
Rolling your eyes, you walked with him until you reached the flat.
Once inside, you retrieved one of your bags, did not allow Steven to look inside, and hurried to the bathroom. A special item that you bought with the intent of using it one day ended up being useful sooner than you anticipated.
Having made sure that the front door was locked, Steven hung his jacket on a wooden hanger next to it. Taking your shopping bags to your shared bedroom, he went to the kitchen and loudly asked, "Do you want me to order some food?"
Leaning against a bookshelf, you said, "Maybe later, love." Your only clothing was a new set of emerald green lingerie with stockings and a pair of hills. "There are things to take care of for now."
"But I'm hungry... We skipped our lun..." He paused as he glanced at you over his shoulder.
Your body was perfectly shaped, toned yet curvy just where it needed to be, and your skin was smooth and tanned even after coming back from Egypt almost two months ago.
After a moment of silence, he whispered, "Y/N... Cor blimey, you're stunning..."
You moved closer to him and hummed, placing your hand on his shoulder. "Since I got you going in the changing room, I thought it'd be a good idea to finish it at home."
"Cor blimey, you're bloody hot today, innit!" Steven exclaimed, visibly satisfied with the sight. He placed rough hands on your hips, one of them slipping to your booty. "Maybe I shouldn't act like that back in the store but gurl, you're so hot it's nearly impossible to cool down by your side."
"Well, I do not want you to cool down. I'd love to see what you can do with me. I want you Steven, so badly." You almost whined, pawing at his shirt.
His eyes glistened with lust he tried to hide so much; unfortunately, the pressure and tension building within his abdomen once again that day made it impossible.
"C'mon, Steven. I know you want me. Don't hide it." You purred and pulled him into a deep kiss.
Steven cupped your cheeks in his hands and crushed his lips on yours, taking his time to kiss you deeply.
You hummed as you kissed him back, letting him completely dominate the kiss.
You wanted Steven to show you everything he could offer, since he was usually slow and soft. It's not that you were bored, but at the same time you knew he was capable of so much more.
Stephen slipped his fingers into your damp, lacy panties, sighing as he felt the wetness his fingers so desperately craved. While he kissed you hard, he breathed in your scent.
In a brief break, you sighed softly against his lips and kissed him again, placing your palms on his shoulders
The kisses he was offering you deepened as he rubbed your clit with two of his fingers, teasing your entrance by slipping one of them in just a little. Your lips trembled as he whispered, "So warm and wet. All mine."
"All yours." You assured with a soft nod, rolling your hips to get a bit more friction. "I cannot wait to feel you deep inside of me."
"I think we can do something about that."
His hand was out of your panties shortly after, and he picked you up easily, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. You were in his arms as he sat you on the edge of the table, again crashing his lips against yours, humming in the kiss.
The excitement grew with every moment, and you couldn't wait to see what would happen next.
“Fuck.” Steven heard Marc chimed in mentally. “She'd gotten everyone's attention with that lingerie on.”
Steven ignored Marc's interruption completely and returned to rubbing your clit, this time through your lacy panties.
"Fuck, Steven." You gasped at his touch as your hands moved to his shirt, and your skilled fingers started to undo the buttons.
"Did I allow you to do that?"
"Oh Steven, please. I need to touch you!" You whined.
“Don't let the girl take over the control so easily, just like I told you.” Marc reminded in mentally again.
“What if she wouldn't like it?” Steven replied within his mind while his eyes looked at your body hungrily.
“Trust me, she's going to love it.” Marc replied. “You're in control this time. You want her all hot for you? You want her eager like she has never been before? Do as we trained.”
"I think you need to work on that a little." Steven said, rubbing your clit faster, and then leaving you all hot as he proceeded to flop on the couch. "I'd like to see you dance and strip for me."
In shock, you pressed your legs together as you stared at him. Although you expected a lot from him, you never expected that much. Steven almost seemed unrecognizable to you, but you didn't mind. Before starting to dance, you got up from the table and walked a little closer.
Your moves demonstrated as much of your body as possible.
The pressure in the crotch of Steven's jeans forced him to adjust himself. He was still not satisfied, so he unbuckled his belt and opened his fly to take his cock out.
As you licked your lips, you watched him for a moment before returning to your dance.
The bra came first. You slipped it off quickly before throwing it to one side, playing with your boobs to make sure your chest was clearly on display. Then came your panties. You took them off while rolling your hips with your back facing him. Unlike the bra, you did not throw them on the side, you threw them at Steven. "Can my stockings stay, luv?"
The man smiled and nodded as he caught your panties. "You know how much I love it when you wear those, so please leave them on."
"Please leave them on?!" Asked Marc in Steven's head. "Man, you're the one in charge. You're not asking, you're demanding! What did I say to you?"
Khonshu added, "Idiot once, idiot forever."
Both voices started laughing.
Steven cleared his throat, rubbing his half-erected shaft slowly. "I want you to leave them on, babes."
Despite never being told to stop, you continued to dance. Since it was so exciting, you were eager to see what else he had prepared for you.
"Sit on my lap, please."
"Yeah. Ask her to make you some cocoa." Marc grunted.
"Idiot, act like a man at least once or Marc will take over." Khonshu warned angrily.
Steven froze and raised his voice, looking up at you. "No! I mean, come to me, Y/N."
Although his little outburst freaked you out, you followed his instructions. You walked up to him with a smile on your face. "I like it when you're so bossy."
He smiled a little shyly. "You know, it's my first time being that way so I'm trying to do my best."
When you straddled his lap, he grunted, feeling your pussy grind against his cock. Steven attacked your breasts, kneading and wrapping his lips around your nipples, sucking and biting gently enough to not cause you pain.
His lips were so delightful to feel on you that you gasped. You moved your hands into his hair, rolling your hips against him with a soft moan escaping your lips. "And you do such a great job, my love. It feels amazing."
Steven said, referring to Marc and Khonshu, "I appreciate your concern and your suggestions, but I prefer to take the appropriate action on my own."
Khonshu who stood nearby, watching the scene, shouted angrily, "Look at that. Idiot's getting laid and he doesn't want any help from his friends."
Marc replied, "Sure, if you want to. Go get her, tiger."
"Did you just call that idiot a 'tiger'? He's only a kitten, to be more precise."
“Khonshu, let him have fun the way he wants. It's his life and his girl at stake." Marc added.
It was rare for Marc to stand by Steven's side, so Grant became truly grateful for Spector at that moment.
As you hummed loudly, you were enjoying the moment, but then it hit you. As you scowled, you grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at you. You studied his face carefully.
As Steven blinked a few times, he tried to avoid your gaze; he always felt intimidated when you stared deeply into his eyes, as it felt like you could read his soul too easily. "What's up?"
With anger, you raised one of your eyebrows, trying to read his expression.
"Is this really Steven here, or am I being played by Marc now? Is it some kind of a plan to help Steven?"
A frown crept across Grant's face as he replied, "It's me, Steven Grant. Well, I asked him what could I do to make you happy with our sexual relationship... I heard you mentioned to one of your friends that you were getting bored in the bedroom, so I thought I would try something new for you..."
"First of all, it's rude to eavesdrop and second, it's really sweet that you wanted to do something like this for me. That's why I love you." Smiling, you pressed a kiss against his lips. "Since you asked for his help, could you show me what he recommended?"
"Dove, it's hard when you keep talking."
With a mischievous smile, you challenged him. "Make me stop talking then!"
After a moment, he touched your lips with his rough ones.
As you kissed him back, you wrapped your hand around his dick so you could stroke him.
Instantly, his eyes closed, and he rolled his head back; it was always like that; whenever he tried to get control, you touched him in the right places to turn him into a whining puppy. "Oh, so good!"
Playing with him, you stroked and squeezed his member while whispering sweet praises into his ear.
In response to your teasing, Steven couldn't help it any longer, so he pushed you off of himself, placed himself between your spread thighs, shifted apart with his knee, and slid his shaft into you. He rocked his hips back and forth steadily as he rested his forehead against the crook of your neck.
While whining his name, you wrapped your leg around his waist, keeping him as close as you could.
Moaning his name, you pulled his curls and played with them softly. Grabbing his palm, you moved it between your bodies to demonstrate that your clit needed a touch of attention as well.
Steve kissed the side of your neck, looking down at the point where your bodies were connected. After rubbing your clit for a second, he backed his hand, brought it up to his lips, and spat on his fingers; he then returned his fingers to your pussy where he rubbed small circles around your clitoris while fucking you slowly, deeply.
"Fuck!" You shouted through parted lips, and grabbed his shoulder tightly, feeling your climax approaching. "Just like that. You are doing a great job."
The pace he took was steady, but his thrusts were deep and penetrating.
As you continued to praise and kiss him, you made sure that he knew how pleased he was making you feel.
When he kissed you deeply, he suddenly pulled his cock out of you.
Suddenly startled, you glared up at him, gasping loudly. "Is there something wrong?"
His fingers tapped against your hip. "I want you to lie on your side."
Like a good girl, you turned to your side, following his wish.
One of your legs was picked up, and he shoved himself into your pussy from behind with a soft grunt.
You let out a moan as you gasped loudly. Your hands clutched tightly at whatever you could grab. It felt so much better with a new angle. Everything he had done up to this point was new to him and you loved it.
He took his time to fuck you, slowly, with steady pace, as his lips pressed against your neck and cheek, his hands kneading your breasts.
Within moments, his hips spasmed, he let out a soft moan and milked your core with his thick cum, grunting right into your ear.
It wasn't just him who reached his peak, you did as well. As you moved your hand back into his hair, you tried to catch your breath. "Steven... Fuck. That was something! Oh, wow."
Just wherever he could reach, he placed tender kisses on your nape, cheek, and side of the neck. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The two of you moved into a more comfortable position to cuddle after taking a moment to rest.
"Steven?"
In the meantime, Steven improved his jeans and boxers, reaching for his shirt to cover you. "Hmm?"
You made him look at you by cupping his cheek. "The surprise was pleasant, but you don't need to change to make me happy, luv. I love you for who you are and I want you to be yourself." Then you kissed him softly on the lips. "Besides, other guys know shit about women. Especially Khonshu."
"Khonshu is the God... He knows... Things. But don't worry, I won't change. I like who I am."
You laughed and nuzzled him as you joked, "Not even an Egyptian god could understand women."
"But... Did I make you feel good?"
Your arms wrapped around him as you assured him, "You always do, luv. I love you so much, Steven."
Partners in crime || Jake Lockley x Reader
Summary: the experience of working with Jake is great, but it's even better once the job is done
Rating: explicit! (+18)
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), knife play, dirty talking, daddy kink, Khonshu 🤭
Word count: circa 5500
Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem!Reader, Khonshu & fem!Reader
Authors: Fenrir & Cass
A/N: green italics indicate Khonshu, red italics illustrate Jake speaking Spanish
You growled as you ascended the stairs to your apartment. Being a thief wasn't easy because the job took you longer than expected and because the idiot you worked with almost got you caught. You were supposed to have a meeting, but you were two days late. All you had to do was return home and contact the guy you often worked with.
"What the hell are you doing in here?!" You asked entering the living room and seeing Jake, sitting on your couch as if it was his own.
The man sat comfortably on your couch, his legs crossed, a lit cigarette held in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, and his brown eyes were observing you attentively. “Y/N, you're fucking late. Don't you fucking think you're wasting my fucking time, eh? I've been waiting for you to arrive, and nothing happened."
“I nearly got my ass ripped off by Brazilian police. I wasn't going to get late." You rolled your eyes and tossed the bag on the floor. "I was going to contact you after I reached back home."
Holding the bottle in his hands, Lockley took a deep gulp straight from it. "Are you expecting me to feel pity for you, sweetheart? It's your fault that you chose your work partners incorrectly."
"I don't care if you pity me. This is the last thing I need from you. So, again, why are you here and what did you do to get in here?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
A mischievous grin spread across his lips as he replied, "I've got my ways of getting in. I came because I was frustrated by the lack of contact from your side."
"I didn't intend to be late, and I really tried to get here as soon as possible." You sighed as you sat down next to him. "It's not the first time we worked together."
He scolded, finishing his cigarette and offering you a bottle. "It's not the first time you are late. I think it's just a habit of yours."
"Jake, don't be so dramatic. It's the first time I'm actually late." You groaned and took the bottle from him before taking a sip.
"How was it? Any interesting news?" He asked casually.
With annoyance, you told him, "Oh, it was such a beautiful trip. No news. I barely made it back, I was more focused on saving my ass just to come back to you."
"What happened?"
"Well, some fucker ratted us out. Being sure he'll get more money for it than for helping us, I shot him." You shrugged as if nothing serious had happened.
He looked up at you flatly and said, "Well done. You grow up."
Saying this, you looked back at him irritated as hell. "Don't speak to me like I'm some kind of noob. I know my job and I know what I'm doing."
He not only pestered you with his work, he also broke into your flat without a second thought; you have grown annoyed with Lockley lately.
The bottle was snatched from your hands and he downed its contents. "Will you help me with our next job or not?"
"Ey!" You cried when he lifted the bottle and huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "First of all, it's your thing. As long as you pay me, I'll help."
"Sure, I'm willing to pay. I've never stolen anything from you, chiquita, so don't worry about it."
"I hope so, Lockley. So what was it about this time? Did you again pretend to be Indiana Jones and chase after some junk?"
"No, I already said what I was doing. Some people need to be silenced, it's mostly done now, but you and your skills might be useful to me, nena."
"Oh, really?" You hummed as you placed both of your legs on his lap. Despite Jake's lack of boundaries, working with him was pleasant, and he paid well, which was enough. "I wonder why you need a woman to help you since you are so effective."
Immediately, he gently rubbed you on your calf with a rough palm of his. "I thought I was clear, a beautiful assistant is always a pleasant distraction."
"Oh, well, it's definitely a helpful distraction for you," You teased him slightly. "This isn't the first time you ask me for assistance. I should really charge you twice. For getting my hands dirty and then warming your cock."
"Oh, don't play such a prude, honey." He snapped a little, moving his hand up your leg, then slipping it under your leather skirt, massaging your thigh. "I haven't heard you complain about warming up my cock when I was fucking you last time, instead you cried my name so loudly you attracted the attention of pedestrians when I was fucking you in the back of my car." He said. "No me mientas, hermosa." Jake whispered with narrowed eyes. "Moreover, you know I hate it when you tell lies to me."
As you softly gasped, you wrapped your arm around his neck. He was more than right, last time was fun. Although you wanted to repeat it, sadly it wasn't the right time. "You are so cocky and cunning that you better tell me what the job is. You broke into my flat in order to get it done, so spill it, Lockley."
"There's one guy. I need to get him off quietly, and you know me, it's fucking hard at times. But you have the ability to get to him without creating much of a fuss. He'll get all head over heels when he sees you."
"I guess he orders a lot of whores and I will have to pretend to be one in order to get close to him." You said, all needy and high-pitched. "Or should I play a girl eager to be fucked by him?"
Jake brought his hand to your cheek, where he rubbed his calloused thumb against your soft skin. "You're such a smartie. Just look at you, such a hottie. If we succeed in getting rid of him, I'll reward you."
"I need to know what dress to wear, so let's get to planning."
Waiting was his least favorite task. There was no way for him to control what was happening inside the apartment; if he wanted to stay low and not make a fuss, he had to trust you with what needed to be done. Knowing how to keep things quiet, unnoticed by others, was one of your skills. As he smoked another cigarette, he checked the time on his Rolex once more and let out a sharp sigh.
You both went with the whore plan. Being allowed in was not difficult at all, especially if the guy liked his ladies. You went there wearing the shortest dress you could find, fishnet tights, and black high heels. You started your job right away, being nice and flirty until you had the chance to slit his throat. Since he tried to lay his nasty hands on you too soon, he deserved it.
You didn't stop yourself from rummaging through the drawers while the poor guy was bleeding out. It wasn't like he had a lot of those.
As soon as you knew the guy was out for sure, you removed those damn hills and opened the window so you could use the fire escape. You finally made it safely into Jake's limo after climbing down. "You could tell me he is nasty as fuck. I will stop doing things like this, I swear. Fucking bastard."
Although it was a lie, the excessive amount of makeup on your face only exacerbated your anger.
Raising an eyebrow, he looked at you. "What did you expect? That he'll read you a bedtime story and rub your shoulder? I told you what he likes, so don't bullshit me."
You growled, digging through the bag you left with him. "Nothing really. Guy treated me like a fucking ragdoll, putting his paws all over me as I stepped in. Now excuse me, I'll go insane if I don't take that crap off my face."
Then you grabbed your bag and went to the back of the limo to clean yourself up.
Once you joined him, Jake felt a huge sense of relief; it was like a heavy stone had been lifted from his shoulders. Despite the fact that you were just his co-worker, he felt strangely attached to you. If the dude you were with wasn't dead, Jake would have slit his throat for even touching you. When you reached the back of his limo, he started the engine and drove away from the hotel. As you sat down, you put your legs on the couch and turned on the light. After a quick dig in your bag, you pulled out the brush and brushed your hair before finding items to remove your makeup.
"Amazing work again, Y/N." Khonshu himself decided to appear on the other couch.
At this point, he wasn't anything new to you. "Thank you, but it isn't like I had a choice. Too bad I got blood on my dress. Jake owns me one now!" You said the last part a bit louder to make sure Jake heard.
Khonshu chuckled softly. "You'll get a new one, don't worry. Sometimes I feel I can only count on you and your skills. What did you get yourself?"
Finally, you were done with makeup removal and sighed, looking at Khonshu while rubbing your eyes.
“The guy didn't have too many things there. Thankfully I found some money and a necklace. Looks like he had someone, possibly a significant other. Poor girl." You shrugged as you put on the necklace, relaxing on the couch.
Khonshu observed you silently for a long time. "For now, you will not be assigned any new tasks. Everything you had to do was already performed, on a temporary basis."
You whined loudly. "Too bad, I'll miss Jake breaking into my flat or doing all the work for the two of you. Let's hope I will be needed again soon."
"Jake will need your help despite his reluctance to admit it."
"He's a difficult type, huh?" You chuckled.
"Pretend you didn't hear me say that."
The vehicle stopped soon after.
As you giggled, you pretended to close the zipper over your lips, promising to keep quiet about it. You joked, "Ey, Mr Driver! Why are we stopping? I have an important gala to attend."
Door openings and closings could be heard. Lockley joined you moments later. "What was it he wanted?"
You smiled at him, shuffled, and responded, "Not much. Just congratulating me and promising me a dress. Why? Are you jealous? Worried that the ancient god will take me from you?"
"I can't handle the idea of his sweetness paired with your equally wry attitude."
"Oh, wouldn't we make a good pair? Don't you think, Khonshu?" You asked with a wry laugh following. "Maybe we should jump on each other?"
Jake cocked his brow and snorted loudly, adjusting his leather jacket and lighting his cigarette. "Eres graciosa, Y/N."
Khonshu replied so both of you could hear him, "You’re my another candidate, Y/N."
As you bowed your head in acknowledgment, you said, "I am flattered by that. I will be glad to serve you." You looked at Jake and took the cigarette from him.
"You weren't supposed to take it?" His eyebrows cocked as he stated.
You shook your head and took a drag, letting out the smoke through your nose. "However, I did. What are you intending to do about it, sweetie?"
Jake did not say a word, but just let his eyes wander over your exposed body and legs in a too short skirt.
Just like you did in your flat, you put your legs over his. "Like what you see?"
"Perhaps." He replied quickly, yet once again his hand touched your calf.
"The last few times, you were more certain about my legs." After removing your legs from his lap, you started undressing. First it was your blood-stained dress, then those annoying fishnets. Soon you straddled his lap.
"Much better." You were too well known to Jake. He knew well enough that you wanted to fuck beneath the facade of hatred and frustration. As you shifted in your seat, his dark eyes stared right at you. As he brought his index finger and thumb to your chin, he forced you to look at him. He lowered his lips, "I don't like secrets being kept from me." Jake hypocritically said with a shrug. As his thumb roamed over your chin, tightly gripping it, he forced your head to tilt. "Tell me, what else did you grab from the flat, doll?"
Your eyebrows raised as you asked, "Since when am I yours? But since you asked so nicely, I grabbed some cash, which I need to survive, and because you never gave me gifts, I grabbed a pretty necklace, too."
He cocked his eyebrows as he studied your face. Suddenly, his lips pressed hungrily against yours as he placed a hand on the back of your thigh.
Grabbing his leather jacket, you kissed him back, moaning. Yes! It was the best part of every meeting with Jake; it's exactly what you were looking forward to.
You were pushed so that you lay down on the couch. Jake grabbed your face between his hands and pressed his weight on top of you. Your elbow rested against the seat, but Jake's greedy nature pulled you down. Jake slid his tongue along your lip. As he sat on his knees, sneaking his fingers from your cheek all the way down your neck. As his hands made their way down to your breast, he bit down harshly on the bottom of your lip, causing blood to prickle from the wound. When Jake kept kissing you hungrily, his calloused hand roamed along the side of your stomach, to your hip, and stopped at your thigh.
While it was annoying as fuck, you simply loved the way he handled you. He was the only one who could do that.
After pulling away from the kiss, you looked to the side with a smirk on your lips.
Khonshu sat there like it was a business meeting.
"Someone likes to watch how tiny humans have fun, huh?"
Khonshu's laughter filled the limousine cabin. "I've seen many things, my little Y/N, but some never get old. Don't worry about me, pretend I'm not here. Watching you getting laid is still way more interesting than meeting with all those fuckers at Giza."
"Whatever you say, boss." Shrugging slightly, you grabbed the collar of Jake's jacket and pulled him in for another kiss. As you waited too long, there was no more time to waste.
In Jake's opinion, it was odd for Khonshu to join you during intimate moments; he didn't care whether he was being watched or not, yet it still made him wonder what Khonshu's motivations were. Could Khonshu have been so lonely in his former life that he was trying to make amends in a strange, prudish way?
Your thigh was lifted over Jake's waist, allowing him access between your legs. Jake chuckled, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his favorite dagger. As his other hand rubbed little circles over your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, he brought the dagger to the underside of your neck and lightly tapped your skin. "¡Sólo mírate! On my fucking mercy. Are you planning to fucking obey finally?"
Trying to increase friction from his touch, you rolled your hips loudly, purring loudly. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn't hurt you, the dagger was just a toy. You shivered at the touch of the blade. “Do not think I am scared by this little thing, sweetie. You must do more to tame me."
Continuing to rub the dump spot on your panties, Jake planted another heated kiss on your plump lips. The tip of his dagger's blade was pressed harder against your skin, making you squeak for him. "Aren't you tame already? Being so fucking wet like a good girl would?" He asked. "Dripping down your thighs, just for your daddy?"
His eyes became dilated at the sight. The sight of you so heated made his cock twitch in his jeans. There was no hurry for him. From your neck, Jake roamed the blade of the dagger to the edge of your lacy bra, then trailed the tip down your half-naked body to the fabric of your panties "Lift your fucking ass up for me or I'll have to cut through your fucking undergarment, doll." He demanded.
A soft hiss left your lips at the feeling of the blade moving down your body. When he got like this, you loved it, but it got even better when you pretended to be a bit of a brat. You reluctantly raised your hips for him. "I paid too much for those to let you just cut them." You said and wiggled under him to get your panties off. You stuffed them into his pocket with a soft hum. "This souvenir is for you. If you ever feel lonely, daddy."
The mischievous grin lit up his face as his brow furrowed slightly. As you were laying under Jake, your chest heaving as you looked up at him, Jake cooed, "Well, well, look at that, doll. My personal whore is at last being obedient. After I'm done with you, you're going to be begging for more, cariño." He deepened his voice. He said, "I told you not to lie to me." He pressed his dagger against your lower stomach, but after this, he brought it up to the stripes of your bra and easily cut them off; Jake grabbed the material and threw it on the floor of his car. Jake's calloused hand reached between your thighs, separated earlier by his knee; Jake's thumb rubbed your clitoris and reached down to tease your entrance. An enormous smile formed on his lips as his dark eyes dilated. "You're wet already. How pathetic. I barely touch you."
"Who said it was for you, love?" You asked, looking right into his eyes. Playing the brat always made him go even harder on you, which you loved. Looking at Khonshu, you let out a sweet moan. "I've always wondered if you were watching even if you weren't with us. Now I know how it feels to know you are watching."
Khonshu's laughter filled the limo. "Little human, you're so full of yourself, aren't you? I've been watching you all the time."
Getting up off the couch cushion, Jake pulled you to the edge, spreading your legs even wider. "If you want me to fuck you, you better shut up, stop speaking to him and obey." Jake murmured, pressing his lips against your clit, flicking his tongue a little against your folds. As he felt you tense beneath him, he groaned. "I miss that little pussy of yours."
Laughing with Khonshu, you glanced down at Jake, bending your back slightly to feel his tongue on your needy clit. Oh, you weren't planning to obey, not yet.
"I can tell someone is very jealous of me. What is the reason? Isn't fucking an avatar kinda like fucking Khonshu himself?”
Your clit was grazed by Jake's fingers. Jake saw how you were restraining yourself from begging, and the tip of his dagger grazed your thigh. "Shut the fuck up, Y/N, or you're going to fuck your cunt yourself with one of your plastic toys." Jake curled his lips in a fake frown. Grazing the inner part of your thighs with his tongue, he trailed his middle finger between your folds; he saw how you loved to play with yourself by roaming your fingers against that spot. He buried his finger inside of your slick heat, licking his lower lip, Jake's eyes fixed on your face.
That was the goal you were aiming for. He was becoming increasingly irritated by the minute.
“I am sorry, daddy. I didn't mean to make you jealous." You said softly, before letting out a quiet moan.
He loved teasing you. As his fingers were coated in slick, and as wetter you got, the more he wished it was his cock. He loved the way your back arched to his touch, your thighs quivering when you neared your peak. As soon as possible, he put the knife on the cushion.
Your juice gushed out of your needy slit as Jake spread you wide open. His mouth descended on you hungrily, licking and slurping, as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. The more he indulged in your sweetness, the more he moaned. His tongue plunged into your slit while his hand grazed your breast. His dexterous fingers twisted and pinched at your stiff nipples.
"F-fuck, daddy!" You whined loudly, moving both of your palms into his hair to tug on them. Those colossal fingers of his always made you see stars but you needed more. Moaning his name, you tugged on his hair strongly, arching your back. "Daddy... Please. I want you to fuck me hard."
Despite your dripping cunt, he kept on devouring you, moaning and sending vibes through it. He paused for a moment. "It is pathetically insincere of you to beg me like that, sweetheart. Show me how badly you want my cock to fuck your cunt." He returned to flicking his tongue along your folds, slipping it directly into your pussy after a moment. Meantime Jake took off his leather jacket, he unbuckled his leather belt, opened his fly, and pulled his pants and boxers down underneath the curve of his ass, his aching cock curled up towards his belly button. “Just look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
You smiled broadly as you stared at his cock, then straight at him, running the tip of your tongue along your lips. "Can I suck your cock daddy, please? I want you to fuck my throat until I am unable to speak."
Jake measured your face by the coldness of his brown pupils. "On your fucking knees, doll. What are you waiting for?" He asked, taking a seat on the couch cushion.
Getting down on your knees, you moved closer to him. After spitting on your own hand, you gave him a few strokes before wrapping your mouth around him. Your moves at first were shallow but soon you began to take more and more of him until your nose touched his base.
As soon as your gag reflex kicked in, you pulled away to catch your breath. You then wiped spit off the corner of your lips before doing it all over again.
In order to keep the hair from falling into your mouth, Jake gathered it on the back of your head, where he held you with both hands. "I'm so impressed with you, little whore. You're doing a great job."
"Just your whore." You gasped, pulling away for a moment before swallowing his cock whole again, staying at the base a bit longer as you started playing with his balls.
"That's it. Touch yourself. I want to see you play with yourself." He ordered in a husky tone.
Grinning around his shaft, you moved your hand between your legs and started playing with yourself as he asked you to.
Jake grunted as he rested his head against the back of the couch.
"Look at that, Lockley, our sweet Y/N is so eager." Khonshu commented.
You pushed one finger into your tight hole and moaned around him before pulling away quickly. As you gasped, you moved your hips a little. "Oh, daddy, fuck!" You murmured. "I want to taste your cum."
Jake let go of your hair, grabbed hold of your head, and got up as high as he could without hitting the roof with his head; he kept your head steady as his hips bucked, his shaft shuffling deep into your throat as Jake groaned. A grunt escaped his lips as he shot his thick cum directly into your mouth.
With a happy whimper, you took everything he had to offer. You closed your mouth as you savor the sweet yet salty taste on your tongue. You took a moment to show Jake what a mess he made in your mouth before closing your mouth to swallow it all, just being extra as always. Obviously, you showed him that you swallowed it all like a good girl.
He leaned down and kissed you rough, humming as he tasted himself on your tongue. "Look at you, my little puta, you learned a lesson. Atta girl." Jake sat back on the couch and jerked himself a few times; he got all hard again soon. As his girth curled with forking veins, the swollen tip dripped pre-cum down the underside of his cock. "Loss for words, querida?" Jake questioned. "Come to me. I wanna fuck that pretty cunt."
You crawled to him and soon climbed on his lap. "I know my daddy can get hard really soon. I still remember the night daddy fucked me for hours. I couldn't walk the next day."
As Lockley kissed your lips, his cock rested against your stomach. His fingers grazed your inner thigh as he said, "The first time we fucked, huh? What a beautiful night. You set me on fire with your stubbornness." Jake pressed his lips against yours as he threw you off his lap, pressing your body flat against the couch. He hovered over you, resting his arm above your head and looking down at you. During his movement, the ripples of his muscles contracted as his hair flung over his forehead, all messy. "Say it. Beg."
“Please, daddy. I need you to fuck me so hard that I am unable to walk. I want you to fuck me so hard that I am going to fall on my face with your fucking cum." You pleaded, touching his chest in desperate need of any touch.
"Good." Jake muttered, lowering his head and greedily grazing your lips. His hand curled around the flesh of your thigh and he lifted it over his waist. He stroked his cock over your sloppy folds. Jake smirked, "So fucking wet." In an instant, he sheathed his big cock inside your cunt, causing you to catch your teeth on the inside of your bottom lip. I've been waiting for this for a long time."
Whimpering, you bit harder at your lips. He wasn't the only one who was waiting for this moment. He ruined you, if you're being completely honest. There was no other man who could satisfy you. You didn't even try to get close to anyone else because none of them were Jake. You moved your hand between your bodies as you moaned his name.
"D-daddy, look what you are doing to your little girl." Taking one of his hands, you moved it where your bodies were connected and up, to your abdomen to show him the bulge in your lower belly each time he entered you.
His lips curled into a smirk as he grunted deeply. As he sucked on your neck, he massaged the area where the bulge had formed when he pushed into you. Jake's cock was so hard inside you. "That's my little cunt. My beautiful fucking whore." Jake moved his hips back to pull out of you. He glanced down to stare at the ridge of his dick drag against your walls; he took a hold of his cock and spat on it only to slip back into you, this time fucking you as hard as it was possible. His rough hand was running up and down your calf.
The entire limo moved to the rhythm of his strong thrusts.
You could only scream his name again, just as you had before. The only thing you cared about was how well you were fucked and not where he parked or if anyone heard you. He fucked you so well that you already felt sore, and you knew what it would feel like later or tomorrow. "You have this cunt only for you, daddy. I am your whore, your cumdump to use however you wish."
Keeping his hips surging in a repetitive motion, Jake rolled his head back. Your pussy felt too good around him, quivering with each heinous thrust of his. "That's right. You're mine. Fucking mine. Whoever tries to touch you will be dead." He urged his pace, picking up your other leg and resting both of them against his muscular shoulder. His balls hit your plump ass. "In or out?"
Feeling your own high approaching made your mind a little foggy. Everything felt so good. This time your mouth was open in surprise as you heard his question. You begged him with a pathetic whimper in your voice, "I-In... Please, cum in me. Fill me up with your warm cum and mark me as yours."
While biting and kissing your neck, he increased his pace. He pinned you down with his chest and weight. When he felt your wetness spilling over his cock, a powerful tone sounded within his chest as he shot his cum in your dripping core. "Fuck!"
You reached your climax by moaning his name as loudly as your lungs would allow. You tightened around his cock. "Fuck... Daddy! So good!" You moaned sweetly, rolling your head maximally back.
As he continued to fuck your pussy with his still throbbing cock, the pace slowed. After kissing your lips, Jake moved down to suck on your nipple. "I hope you are still on your pills." Having pulled out of you, Jake ensured that all the drops of his cum were on your folds as he jerked himself off.
As you whimpered at the feeling of emptiness, you nodded your head. "Y-yes daddy. I am on pills."
"Good." He praised and pulled both boxers and jeans up, zipping the fly and fastening the belt. Also, he improved his shirt. "Get dressed. Khonshu left. Maybe it was too much foreplay for him."
Groaning, you slowly sat up, shivering at the sensation of his cum dripping onto your inner thigh. Slowly, you put on your dress. "Too bad he disappeared. I was hoping he would watch the whole show. I tried my finest for him."
"For him? An old, fucking pigeon skeleton?" Jake cupped your chin between his fingers. "Do you want me to drive you back home, doll?"
"Yes, please. I don't think I can walk right now." You answered with a cocky smile. "And it's all your fault."
As he searched for his keys in his pocket, he pulled out the panties you had hidden for him. A cocky smirk spread across his face as he sniffed them and ran his tongue over the fabric. "No hay problemas, hermosa." Leaving you at the back of his vehicle, he returned to the driver's seat.
As you giggled loudly, you made yourself as comfortable as possible on the red couch. "You are a nasty fucker but I fucking love it, Lockley."
Instead of rolling the window that separated you from him down, Jake lit a cigarette and smoked it while driving. He couldn't get off his peak, and his member was still throbbing in his jeans.
After letting out a deep sigh, you rested your head against the window, watching everything that was passing by. You gradually regained your composure after the event.
"You love him." A strong voice chanted next to your head; it was Khonshu.
You were almost dozing off at this point. Khonshu's voice made you jump, but you calmed down once you realized it was him. "Perhaps. There is no place for love in my work, and I don't think Jake has a place for it either."
"You, small humans, are so pathetically stupid, not understanding the power of love and hatred." Khonshu said, shaking his head. "He does hold a very special place in his heart and life for you. It's time for you to realize that."
You chuckled. "Yeah, he definitely does. All he cared about was getting his cock warm before going to another job." Rolling your eyes, you sighed sadly. "People care mostly about sex. Not bonds. That's the way it is. Even if some want something more."
Khonshu tapped your head a few times with his hand. "I know you're better than that, little worm." He said before disappearing.
Suddenly, a thick envelope filled with money was thrown right next to you on the couch as soon as the window separating the back of the limousine from the driver was rolled down. Jake watched you in the rare mirror as he said, "Your payment, Y/N. I will contact you. Be ready at any time."