#jake lockley x reader fluff

[blue-sadie]

Flashing Light

Them comforting you during a storm

The bang and clap of thunder is what stirred him from his sleep but it didn't fully wake him what did was the small whimper that left you when a lightning hit close by causing the hall light to flicker.

He would wrap his arms around you pulling into your chest, he'd pull the blankets tightly around you as you held onto him with fear, his chest vibrating as he softly hummed your favorite song.

Your body would shake with each flicker and clap of lightning and he would tighten his hold on you and bringing you further into him if possible, his eyes staring into the darkness as he leaned his chin onto your head.

He wouldn't try to move to much he knows that he should just stay still and be there to comfort you, if the lightning got closer and louder he slowly move his hands to press them over your ears as he pressed his forehead to yours.

When the storm finally passed and your shaking figure finally calmed down he would stay awake for a few more hours coming up with a way he could sound proof the place or have something you could wear so it wouldn't bother you further.

Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen

[softieekayy]

Illicit Feelings

Marc spector x fem!reader.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: reader is 19 years old. Some questionable morals from Marc’s side. she can consent, not a toxic relationship, they know what they’re doing. Reader can consent. Marc is 37. Also reader is slight oc! She’s characterized with skin, eye and hair. She is implied to be desi.

Authors note: writing and posting this specific story has taken a lot out of me. It’s wrong morals and everything but please, do not hate and if you don’t like what you see then please scroll away. Leaving hate is unnecessary. I know that the age gap is controversial but I wrote this for myself and something that I’d like to share with you.

Cairo was a timeless city. Correction, Cairo will always be a timeless city with ancient temples buried under its sand dunes and secrets carried in the wind, there was nothing to not like about the Egyptian city. Marc Spector was not immune to the charm of Cairo, it’s where his life ended and began. It is also the city where Marc spector met the young woman that would alter his life forever, integrating herself so far into his life that everywhere Marc turned she was there.

Their meeting was odd, like anything in Marc’s life, she was sought out by Khonshu, the old bird claming that she would be of help in defeating Ammit. As the avatar of Anubis, she was helpful, with eyes that saw sharp and ears that could hear as well as a dog, she was exactly what Marc needed. Now, he would be okay with whatever this was if it weren’t for the fact that she was 19. Just barely starting her life and already a mercenary and an avatar. If anything, she was too much like Marc and perhaps that is exactly why he liked her so much.

Their first meeting was eventful, Marc had finally hunted her down after three weeks of searching and he was glad that this time she didn’t disappear on him like a ghost. He watched her from above, sat atop the building across her hotel room, eyes glowing as he donned his suit. Khonshu told Marc to beware of the young girl, claiming that she was just as dangerous as Anubis himself. Marc ignored the old bird, chalking it up to his dislike for the latter god but he wished he listened to him. Mac wished he kept his guard up a little bcause as soon as he saw her, he knew she was dangerous.

“Marc Spector, avatar of Khonshu, Moon Knight and former mercenary, what a pleasure to meet you.” She spoke, her lips turning up into a cat-like grin as she ran her tongue over her teeth. Her eyes through, that is what captivated Marc. Big brown doe eyes that peered into his own in a way that Marc thought she was judging his soul. She moved and Marc watched as she went from leaning on her dresser to walking to the mini kitchenette, he watched as she pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Even though he was watching her, his thoughts drifted to how the cropped tank top she wore was a little too tight and how the shorts showed off her legs and tanned skin, no doubt from being in the Cairo sun for too long.

“Blimey mate, you’ve just met her and are already thinking about her. Slow down a little, yeah.” Steven told Marc with an underlying tone of scolding and for a moment, just a brief moment, Marc suspected Steven was talking to himself too.

She watched him carefully, Anubis had told her that Marc would come find her and she was prepared. Everyone in the Ennead and their Avatars had brushed off Spector’s call for help, not Anubis though, no. He would help but only after a game of chase. To be honest, she was surprised that Marc found her only after three weeks of hunting but then again, they are both trained mercenaries and it was their job. Locating missing things for a price.

“You’re Anubis’ avatar?” Marc asked her, giving her a once over. Even though she is 19, her face held youth and innocence. She smiled at him, walking forward and handing him a glass of scotch, Marc accepted it from her before muttering a small thanks under his breath.

“You’d be right. I am the avatar of Anubis, his own personal hit woman and his Soul Sentinel. Guardian of souls, protector of the afterlife.” She grinned as she told the older man in front of her her duties. When Anubis told her that Khonshu’s avatar would come seeking her aid, the man in front of her is not what she expected. Marc Spector was beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than any of her past lovers. His tan skin gleamed under the mom light and curls laid loosely on his forehead from sweat. He was beautiful and she wasn’t immune to his beauty, no, she was attracted to him. Marc was also quite a bit older than her, she was 19 and there he was, probably in his late thirties.

Marc just stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say or do. The young girl in front of him took a seat on the chair and gestured for him to do the same.

“So, what is it that you need from me?” She asked Marc, the grin never leaving her face. Marc sighed, not wanting to drag the young girl into his mess. He was not good for her, even if she was an avatar like him, she was too young. Instead of being here, drinking scotch and sitting across from him.

“I need you to help me. Harrow is looking for Ammit’s tomb.” Marc tells her, his voice hardening at the mention of Harrow. (Y/n) of course picks up on this, tucking a stray piece of star behind her ear as she leaned forward slightly.

“Of course. What do you need me to do?” She asked him and Marc looked at her before Steven caught his attention in the silver tray.

“Mate, you sure it’s a good idea. I mean, she’s 19, a good bit younger than us yeah? Don’t you think Layla’s help would be enough?” Steven babbled on and Marc sighed, contemplating if he should ask the young girl to help.

“She’s our only chance Marc!” Khonshu’s voice boomed in his head as the god demanded he ask for her help. If Marc didn’t know any better, he’d think that Khonshu was pushing him to ask for her support on purpose, just to entrance her in his life.

“Marc, are you alright?” She asked, leaning forward to touch his hand. Marc looked at her, big doe eyes that stared back into his own. He sighed and nodded, pushing back into the chair, hoping that it would somehow open up and engulf him.

“I need your help to hunt down Harrow.” and kill his men. Marc thought. The brunette nodded, taking another sip of her scotch, letting it sit in her mouth before swallowing. Marc took in her appearance fully now. Long wavy black hair that cascaded down her back to her waist, tan skin sharp eyes, she was beautiful. Very beautiful. Her skin seemed to glow in the warm yellow light of her room, making her tan skin have a slight sparkle to it. Marc noticed the necklace she wore, a gold chain with an ankh, it sat high on her neck, almost like a choker but not nearly.

“Alright.”

Who knew one simple word could change so much in such little time.

“-arc! Marc, are you even listening to me?” Marc jerked his head towards (y/n) who was standing beside him, an exasperated look on her face and arms crossed over her chest.

“Sorry. What were you saying?” He grimaced, asking her as she sighed. Despite being young, she acted older than she was, then again, she did kill people for a living. Hitwoman for hire. Steven often wondered where Anubis found her and while Marc did too, he didn’t want to ask. He didn't want to know what hell she went through to work for the god of death.

“They only have one room, said we could take it for tonight and they’d clear something up in the mornin” she spoke, her slight accent popping through at the end of her sentence. Marc ran his hand down his face, muttering a small fuck under his breath.

“What are our other options.” He asked, looking at her, hoping she’d say that there is another hotel nearby they could stay at.

“Right now? It’s either this or the sand outside and as much as I like Cairo, I’m not fond of sand in my hair.” She says, tugging her baseball cap lower, covering her eyes. Nightfall had taken over Cairo a while ago and the night stars gleamed brightly.

“It’s fine, we’ll just take the one room.” (Y/n) grumbled as she let out a deep breath. Marc looked at her from his peripheral vision. Even though they’d been working together for 2 weeks, they had never shared a room and not once did Marc seek her out in the middle of the night, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Are you sure it’ll be okay? I can take the car for tonight if you want the room.” Marc asked, following behind her as they both made their way to the elevator.

“Yeah Marc. We’re both adults, I don’t think sharing a room should put us off from each other.” She laughed and Marc swore it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, he wanted to drown in it.

Marc didn’t speak, he just let out what could be counted in as a small laugh. Despite spending time together, (y/n) had heard of Steven but she hadn’t met him yet. The rest of the ride up was silent apart from the stupid elevator music.

Their room was big, a whole area for couches and a tv and then the small kitchenette. This is the nicest room Marc has ever stayed in. It was big and spacious, very similar to a small, fancy flat.

“There’s one bed.” (Y/n) yelled from inside the room, not wasting any time exploring the room.

“Of course there is.” Marc stated, tiredness lacing his voice.

Marc entered the room only to see the duffel bag that (y/n) was carrying thrown carelessly on the floor along with her jacket and gun set on the dresser, she jumped on the bed, sighing in content.

“Marc, come lay next to me.” She beckoned him over with her hand, eyes closed as she tried to burrow herself deeper into the bed.

“I’ll take the couch, thanks.” Marc mummered, setting down his own bag next to hers.

“Maaarrccc. Don’t be fucking rude, come lay next to me, I don’t bite. Unless you want to.” She drawled, now propped up on one arm, the other calling him over. Marc looked at her and she just looked so appealing. Dark wavy hair sprawled invitingly on the bed and red lips pulled up in a lazy smile, her tank top rising up just a little, exposing a sliver of skin. He thought about it for a moment and it took him one moment before he trudged forward and sat down next to her on the bed.

“Happy?” He asked and she just nodded, Marc laughed, running his hand through his hair, curls loosened from the humid Cairo air. He turned his head slightly to look at the young woman next to him, her eyes still closed and in that moment alone, she looked the most content.

“Yeah.” She said, opening one eye to look up at Marc slightly before falling back down, arms flailing over her head.

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.” Marc said motioning to get up before a soft hand pulled him down. For being 5’3, she was stronger than she looked, then again, the power of Anubis flowed through her soul and body.

“Marc, we’re not 14. We can share a bed together not to mention the stab wound on your rib that’s still healing.” Marc cringed a little when she mentioned the wound, he’d hoped that he hid it well enough from her. Despite the suit being able to heal, the wound was a little too deep.

“Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I can take the couch.” The young girl told him, getting up and off the bag as she looked through her bag.

“What are you doing?” He asked and she looked up at him, smiling a little.

“Showering. Feel free to join me.” Marc could feel the warmth in his ears and cheeks, no doubt blushing at the young girl's comment. He watched her walk into the washroom, pulling her hair up into a bun as she did so.

Throughout the two weeks that he’s gotten to know (y/n), he came to understand that she was flirty, very flirty. She used her sex to charm into getting what she wanted and she was very comfortable with it. It was the least violent way to do things, however she never hesitated to bring out her gun or suit if needed. He also learned that she was never shy in spending the blood money she earned. Marc’s was hidden away in a storage locker in London, only taken out if he or Steven ever needed it. Her money though, she used it however she pleased, claiming that it was her work and her money. Marc won’t lie and say that her nonchalance to the mercenary business wasn’t scaring him a little because it did. She’s so young and already so sought after by so many, he worried for her. He didn’t have to, he knew that Anubis would never let anything happen to her but he still worried.

Getting lost in his own thoughts was easy and it didn’t help that he was laying in the most comfortable bed under yellow lighting with the sound of wind blowing as background noise. The sound of the door closing snapped him from his thoughts and Marc turned his head just a bit. (Y/n) had finished her shower, now wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt, cheeks flushed from the heat of the hot shower she took.

“You okay, Marc?” She asked, coming to sit next to him, tentatively raising her hand to run it through his hair. Marc relaxed a bit, silently telling her it was okay and he almost groaned when she did so.

“Just lost in my thoughts. Gonna go shower now.” Marc told her, getting up to get his own clothes and headed towards the washroom.

“Seriously mate? You’re letting her run her hands through our hair now?” Steven asked from within the mirror.

“Steven, now is not the time.” Marc ignored Steven’s protests and hopped in the shower, lathering the jasmine scented soap onto his body.

The brunette sat outside as she listened to Anubis whisper in her ear. Long before Marc came tumbling into her life, she knew everything about him. She knew of his ex-wife Layla, his DID, Steven and Jake. She knew him but she didn’t really know him. The clock on the wall from across the bed glared 11:24 pm in bright red numbers and she sighed, deciding that it was time for bed now. The young girl had already chosen which side of the bed she’d sleep on and quickly made herself comfortable under the covers; it didn’t take long for her to doze off to sleep in the slightly chilled room under a warm linen blanket.

Marc stepped out of the washroom, a pair of sleep pants that without a doubt belonged to Steven and no shirt, he made his way over to the bed only to see a small head of black hair peeking from under the covers. Marc let out a small smile at the sight and moved over to his side of the bed, sitting down, making sure to not awake the sleeping girl. Marc pulled himself into bed, leaving an ample amount of space between the two of them. With the dark of the night, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep.

The morning Egyptian sun shone brightly into the room through orange curtains, hitting Steven right in the face and the man groaned, turning around to fall back asleep when he jerked up quickly. He scanned his surroundings before realizing that he was in the hotel room with a body laying next to his own.

“Marc? Marc!” Steven whispered for his head mate, not moving his eyes from the sleeping girl next to him and when she began to stir in her sleep, Steven panicked a bit more. He had no clue as to why Marc wasn’t fronting. Two weeks with her and Marc was the only one fronting until now. See now, it’s not that Steven didn’t like the girl, no, he was rather fond of her. The matter is that she scared him. It’s quite funny, a man almost in his forties being scared by a woman who hasn’t even hit 20 yet. She stirred awake, one hand came out from under her pillow as she patted Marc's side of the bed, when she couldn’t feel him there, she got up, pure panic in her eyes. And when her eyes landed on a skittish Steven, she relaxed.

“You must be Steven, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” And as soon as those words left her mouth, Steven was a goner. His head felt fuzzy and all he could think about was the sugary sweet voice with a honeyed smile.

“Are you okay?” She asked, getting up to check if Steven was alright and not having a panic attack.

“Hm. Oh yeah! Quite alright.” Steven explained in a frenzy as if he’d offended the younger woman.

“Where’s Marc? I have some hits I need to get done and he needs to be there with me.” The brunette told Steven as she made her way over to the dresser, pulling out a cotton tank top and some pants and head scarf, Steven gave her an awkward smile before his eyes rolled back into his head. Marc was fronting now with a hardened look on his face.

“What hits?” He asked, arms crossed in a defensive position.

“Some hits, nothing that will bother you but I still need you there, Anubis insists.” She told him without looking at him, too engrossed in the clothing as she walked to the washroom to change. Marc stood there with a frown etched deep into his face, not liking this.

2 hours later and they were roaming the streets of Cairo, the sun glaring down harshly on Marc’s golden skin, he looked at the girl beside him, dressed in a linen t shirt and some linen pants with a head scarf covering her hair, the gun and daggers she carried hidden easily in her lose clothes. Although they were out looking for two men with a stolen artifact that belonged to Anubis, she looked relaxed, almost serene.

“What are you staring at?” She asked, not looking up at Marc but rather examining a small ankh closely. Marc didn’t say anything, continuing to simply look at her.

“Marc, what is it?” This time turning around and looking up at him, her doe eyes peering into his own brown ones. For a moment, just a brief moment, Marc forgot who they were and where they were. The way she looked at him with so much care and concern made Marc want to melt directly into the ground, he didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Nothing. Are you gonna get that?” He gestured to the necklace she was looking at.

“No, why should I when I have the real one on my neck.” She told him, bringing out the ankh that Anubis had oh so kindly gifted her. Marc grinned at her smile and continued walking as she bid the salesman goodbye and followed behind Marc, hooking his arm in hers.

“What are we looking for?” Marc asked her, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious.

“Two men, they should be here trading items. We need a small gold esophagus, one that belonged to a pharaoh a long time ago.” She told him a small frown on her face. As a mercenary, she killed people who deserved it and she stole things that were already stolen, in some ways, she reminded Marc so much of Layla and maybe that’s why he’s stuck around for so long.

In a swift moment two hands grabbed the brunette from behind, effectively covering her mouth and a knife pointed at Marc’s back, ordering them to walk. A bag was put over their heads and while the two of them could fight off the men with ease, Anubis and (Y/n) told Marc and Khonshu to hold off. They weren’t in the van for long, she could tell it was less than 20 minutes and the scent of water and salt filled her nostrils.

“Well, well, well, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it, little star.” She could recognize that condescending voice anywhere, afterall, it plagued her nightmares constantly. Her breath hitched, nothing noticeable but it didn’t go past Marc. He turned his head in her direction, even with the bag on, his focus was on her breathing, making sure that she’s alright. That nothing has happened to her.

“Tahir. It has been a while.” She greeted, her voice a double sword.

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to survive, especially not in the condition we’d left you in.” The man, Tahir, mocked her and Marc could hear him getting up and circling them, like a hawk.

“Yet I can see you’re still hunting for items. Killing people. You haven’t changed, have you now, little star?” The man continued and Marc’s blood boiled by the second, he aches to get out of these restraints.

“Not now Marc! Be patient.” Khonshu’s voice boomed in his head, ordering him to keep patient.

“I have changed, but I can still see that you haven’t. Still a coward, killing people with bags over their heads.” She reiterated and something in Marc told him that this conversation went beyond just stolen items and bounty hunts.

“Why do you want the esophagus, it’s no use to you.” Tahir asked.

“It’s more useful to me than it will ever be to you.” Marc could hear the smirk in her voice, with the way she was edging the man on. In a soft moment, the bags over their heads were taken off and Marc’s eyes began to adjust to the light, observing his surroundings and already counting possible escape routes. His eyes landed lastly on the brunette who was looking up at the man, blood running down from her nose as the smirk on her face never wavered.

“You conniving bitch. We should’ve killed you when we had the chance to.” Tahir told her and Marc swore he could steam coming out from his ears.

“Yet you didn’t. You’re a coward, like you’ve always been.” She sneered at him, teeth baring like a feral wolf.

“Yet we killed André. You quite liked him, did you not, little star?” Tahir smirked at her and she snapped at this moment. Brown eyes beginning to tint with red

“You piece of scum, good for nothing really. No wonder your mother didn’t love you.” Marc choked on his spit at the last sentence, but then again, she was being fair.

“Now Marc!” Khonshu told him, his staff lightly hitting his back. Marc took his signal and broke free from the restraints, calling on his suit. The white bandages begin to cover every inch of his body just as (y/n) called upon her own suit. Black bandages with a gold trim began to cover her arms, and calves as loose black pants with the same gold trim formed, the chest plate made from gold and decorated with Anubis’s symbols and stones. All in all, she looked like Anubis, a female version of his that roamed the earth.

“You’ve really fucked up now, Tahir. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? How long I’ve waited for this moment.” She asked, an Estoc in her hand as she pointed it to his neck, teeth baring, ready to rip his throat out. Marc pulled the half crescent from his chest, taking care of the other men while she focused on the one.

“You’re a monster.” Tahir spit out and the girl only smiled.

“I may be a monster but at least I’m not afraid to admit it.” She growled at him.

The dark haired man stood up, lunging at her as she dodged it. He lunged again but this she had him pinned to a wall, face smushed up against the concrete as she banged his head into it a couple of times.

“When will you realize that you’re not leaving here alive, hm?” She whispered in his ear, choking him, inching him closer to death.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, for everything I put you through. You were a child.” Tahir babbled incoherently but she didn’t care for his apologies, what was done was done, now all she wanted was revenge. For her and for André. In a swift moment, he was let go and before he could take a breath, her sword impaled him, from his jaw to his brain. The body drops dread on the ground and nothing but silence surrounds them.

And before Marc knows it, she’s on the ground, sobbing her heart out, clutching her chest.

“(Y/n)! Are you okay!” Marc asks, dropping down on the ground next to her as she continues to sob, clutching over her heart as if it hurts.

“It hurts Marc, it hurts so much.” She told him, barely wheezing and for a moment, Marc thought that she’d been hit. In the moment, he realized the pain was emotional, pain from killing Tahir, from the reminder of her friend or lover or whoever André was to her. There was nothing Marc could do, simply taking the younger girl in his arms and consoling her as she cried her heart out into his chest.

“Marc, Marc! Give me the body.” Steven demanded the man and Marc complied, clearly Steven was better suited for this than he was.

“Hey there lovey, how are you feeling?” Steven asked, still caressing her gently.

“Do you know he was the first person ever loved?”(y/n) told Steven, pulling herself off from his chest and wiping her tears away as she smiled a watery smile.

Steven didn’t say anything, only letting her speak.

“He was the stars and my universe and I loved him so much. He was so beautiful, you know. The type whose eyes would glimmer when he spoke about something he liked, the way he would just immerse himself into something he loved. I loved seeing him do that. He was so perfect and I loved him so much. From the first time I saw him, my old heart was his, yet I never told him how much I loved him.” She told Steven, a small sparkle in her eyes as she remembered her past love.

“Oh love, I’m so so sorry.” Steven said, his hand resting on top of hers.

“Unfortunately, he died in the worst way possible. Got a death that no one deserved. It was a hit with Tahir, he said it would be an in and out job, and it was. I was perched on the building across, sniping people in the other building, giving my team the go ahead. When we were done, we were on our way home when he stopped at a temple. I realized later that it was Anubis’s temple. He bagged André over the head and shot him, point blank execution style. The way I kill people. I was tossed out after being shot in the stomach, left for the dead, beside the body of my lover. 18 years old and dying alone, I thought that’s what I deserved, after everything I’ve done. In my dying moment, Anubis came to me, asking me to be his avatar, his soul keeper and tamer of the underworld. I agreed, I was desperate and this gave me a reason to live.” Steven was in tears by the end of her story, so young to have lived a life not meant for her. Steven was forcefully shoved back when Marc fronted.

“Oh baby.” He said as he pulled the girl into his chest, tugging her close, as if he was trying to shove her into his chest, keep her protected.

She got up, pushing Marc away as she wiped away the fallen tears and sighed.

“What’s happened has happened and we cannot change that.” She told him, her armour going back to her old clothes.

“We can mourn.” Marc told her.

“I’ve mourned enough.” She replied, tugging her head scarf back in place as she extended a hand towards Marc who accepted it greatly. Her hand was soft and warm, like a blanket.

“Let’s go home.” She said and Marc agreed, hooking her arm in his, they began walking home, but not before getting some food. The fight took the most out of them and by the time they reached the hotel they called home, it was nightfall.

(Y/n) had showered and washed the day off her body and Marc did the same. His eyes followed her movement, watching as she sat on the balcony of their room, watching the moon and stars as he drank, sitting on the floor, back against the bed.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough.” She teased, walking into the room, wearing those tiny fucking shorts and cotton tank top. Marc couldn’t stop looking at her legs, the tan skin of her thoughts was inviting him to touch them. She sat down next to him, taking the bottle from his hands as she drank a generous amount.

“Are you okay?” Marc asked her, referring to the day and her breakdown.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve come to terms that he’s gone. I’ve let myself heal.” She told Marc, looking at him and smiling a little and putting her head on Marc’s shoulder. They say like that for a while, drinking out of the bottle and speaking of nothing. Small quips and laughs shared in the middle of the night. This moment that they shared, it was intimate. It was meant for them and them only.

Marc didn’t know what time it was when they fell asleep talking on the floor but he knew that it was far too early to be awake. He looked at the sleeping girl on his chest, cheek smushed up against him as she slept soundly, not wanting to awake her, he sat there in silence, eventually drifting back to sleep.

The second time Marc woke up, he was alone with the smell of pancakes and eggs filling his nose.

“Oh Marc! You’re awake, good. I was ready to get you.” She told him, a positive glow on her face as she smiled.

“I’ve made breakfast so why don’t you get up and brush your teeth. I’ll make some coffee, yeah?” Marc nodded at her offer before pulling himself up. He could feel the aftermath of falling asleep on the floor, a telltale sign that he was getting old.

Breakfast was chatty, she told him about her favorite places and things and he listened, feeding in the information as he told her his favourite things. Steven pitched in too, ranting about Egyptology to her as she listened intently, all wide eyed and curious. While she knew the things like the back of her hand, Steven added a deeper level of knowledge to it.

Their days merged together as they spent every waking moment drowning in each other's presence. Holding her hand in his bigger one as they walked through the Cairo market or at home as she slept on top of his chest. Marc didn’t know when their relationship became more, he didn’t want to know. Sometimes he felt guilty for being in love with a girl so young. She was 19 yes, just days from turning 20. Yet she was more than a decade younger, nearly two decades younger.

“You’re staring again.” She told him, bringing him back to reality. Marc looked at her, sitting across from him, black hair flying in the breeze lightly and red lips curled up as she took a sip from her lemonade.

“Was I?” He asked, being cheeky.

“Yeah, wanna share with the class about what was on your mind.” She said, leaning forward just a bit, the sun hitting her ankh necklace and making her skin glow in the sunlight.

“I’d prefer not to.” Marc told her, replicating her movement and leaned forward.

“You’re not fun.” She sighed, crossing her arms up on her chest. Marc laughed at the pout on her face and she did too.

“We should head home.” This time, home was an apartment in the outskirts of Cairo. In a quaint little area with little noise. It’d been two months since the whole ordeal and 3 since she’d met Marc. The two teetering the line between friends and something more. The apartment, it was their safe haven. Steven’s books strewn across the shelves and floor, Marc’s clothes hanging off the back of chairs and her makeup scattered in the bathroom and dresser. It was theirs, littered with their things and touches. It was home. Anika, a black feline that they’d adopted, slept on top of Marc’s head in the bed and Gus II and III swam happily in their tank.

Egypt was home now. It was home with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, with the sun shining down, with the girl that they lived with. Their home was home. Steven working as a tour guide in a museum and (y/n) working as a mercenary, Marc taking the odd job here and there, it was normality. Of course, they were still on Harrow’s tail, inching closer to stopping him from unleashing ammit. The feelings between the two though, that was left unsaid. They both felt it, the burning desire that lit a fire deep inside them, the aching for one another. Although one fate filled night changed the course of their life.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Marc yelled at her, arms thrown up in the air, dressed in his suit and her in her own. Marc and her and found some of Harrow’s men in a nearby excavation site, causing chaos and making their way there. Effectively stopping the men from doing too much damage.

“I was thinking about you! That could’ve hit you Marc!” She yelled back, jaw clenched and arms crossed over her chest.

“You could’ve been injured!” He yelled at her, anger and worry lacing his voice. He inched closer to her until her back hit the temple wall, his face inches from her.

“Hm? You didn’t answer me?” She could feel his breath mix in with her own, their noses almost bumping.

“I was thinking about you. Saving you.” She said and as soon as those words left her mouth, Marc’s lips were on hers. Hard and passionate, just like him. She reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion, her hand shaking around his neck, tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. Marc was the first one to pull back, touching his head against hers exhaling in relief.

“What was that hm?” She giggled, her hands still in Marc’s hair and he let out a small laugh too.

“That is what I’ve been meaning to do for a while.” Marc tells her, nipping small kisses on her jaw.

“I’m kind of upset you didn’t do it before. Are you telling me we could’ve been doing that the entire time?” She asked, bringing Marc’s head up to her eye vision. Marc started at her and pulled back.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked her, standing up straight in proper military fashion.

“I’ve been sure since I saw you.” She told Marc, holding his hand gently.

“I’m 18 years older than you.” Marc deadpanned and she laughed.

“Older then better.” She shrugged and Marc kissed her again, like he wanted to imprint this moment into his brain.

“Okay.” He said, nose touching her own and foreheads touching.

“Okay.” She hums, kissing Marc softly before pulling back and walking out, pulling Marc with her.

Marc never thanked Khonshu for anything, but he did thank him for forcing him to work with (Y/n). He will forever thank Khonshu for letting him meet the girl who forever changed his destiny, the girl who makes his heart burst at the seams with a simple smile. He is forever grateful for her.

Tagging: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little @stuckinaf4nfiction

[lockleysfav]

My Little Flower

Miguel O’Hara x AFAB virgin!Reader

summary: You had just met the spider society and Miguel a few days ago, You and Miguel had been quite chatty with eachother for a while before be was called out to a mission. A few hours later when you’re asleep in the lab, a high Miguel stumbles in.

warnings: NSFW, sex pollen, drugged Miguel, loss of virginity, rough sex, non con, somnophilia, creampie, reader soon loves it.

A/N: From the last post, the poll, i will be doing the top 3 voted smut ideas. If you want to be in a taglist just comment on this post ❤️. Enjoy!!

To say you were tired was an understatement, you had been working on your new costume a few minutes after Miguel was called out to a mission. It was lonely sometimes without him despite the hundreds of spider people around. You knew that you and Miguel were a little closer than others, and his company had always lightened your mood.

You begged him to let you come with him on this mission but he immediately shut you down, rushing off after telling you it’s too dangerous, plus, your suit isnt finished. It was whatever, you scoffed and sat back down to carry on with the designs. “Asshole” you muttered to yourself, mimicking his facial expressions only to make yourself laugh but once you calmed down and looked to the clock and saw it was 10:34pm, you decided to work a little on your laptop in miguels chair (he had the comfiest chair of course).

The door and slammed wide open and yet you didnt flinch for a second, Miguel stumbled in onto his knees, panting and clawing at his neck “fuck what is this” he heaved as he continued to squirm. His fangs had retracted and he felt his body growing warmer and warmer at a certain smell, he didnt realise that smell was you until he forced himself up onto his feet and saw you asleep in his chair, your body hunched over on the desk with your laptop still open, the white light lighting up your face. Miguel almost purred at the sight of you drooling on his desk.

“te necesito” he muttered breathlessly before scrunching up his face in frustration. He couldnt do that to you? right? You were new, still young. You’d hate him but god he couldnt stop his legs from moving towards you. He growled and so desperately tried to hold himself back, his cock straining against his suit.

You were whining ever so slightly in your sleep, Miguel wasnt aware if you were having a nightmare but its what he assumed and it only drove him even crazier “poor bebita” he whispered as he ran his long fingers through your hair before letting the bottom half of his suit fade away, his cock resting against your cheek. His tip was almost gushing with precum, he gripped the back of your hair and growled before pushing the tip into your drooling mouth “oh fuck, thats it good girl” he whimpered as his body grew hotter, his hips suddenly bucking harder into your mouth. Your head twitched and pulled back a little but Miguel gripped your hair tighter holding you in place “im sorry bebita im so sorr- f-fuck” his dick hit the back of your throat and he doubled over emptying his cum on your tongue.

He pulled out panting, he stared down at you expecting you to jolt awake but you were still fast asleep. You were more of a deep sleeper than he thought. Initially he thought he was okay, but the sight of his warm cum dribbling out of your mouth only hardened his cock again. He didnt waste another second, he lifted you up from the desk, the cum from his mouth smearing onto his shoulder causing him to groan. He carried you to his bed and layed you on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulled down your leggings along with your socks and shirt, you stirred for a moment and Miguel stopped, looking at your face until it relaxed again “so good for me, you love it dont you? you want me just as much as i want you” his eyes had turned a deep red, he felt feral.

He straddled your thighs and ran his fingers down your spine before gripping your ass cheeks tight, putting his weight down and spreading you wide open, your puffy pussy exposed to him. He heaved again, saliva spitting from his mouth before spitting directly onto your pussy. This time, you jolted.

“M-Miguel?” you lifted your head realising it was planted down on soft sheets. You feel a pair of large hands on your ass and you quickly realised the situation, the head of his cock pressed against your hole and you immediately thrashed against him to get away “no no! stay!” Miguel had tears in his eyes he was so desperate. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. “Miguel stop! Im a virgin please please dont do this” you were almost sobbing and Miguel let go of your hands.

“Virgin?” he asked as he looked down again, spreading your pussy lips before looking at the back of your head. “I wont…i wont hurt you okay? please bebita” he leaned down, his body weight completely pinning you down as he kissed behind your ear. “need you so bad, just don’t fight it and it wont hurt i promise” you were panting and whining, you were so scared but also full of adrenaline. You were crushing on Miguel the minute you laid eyes on him. But you were just scared.

Miguel nipped your earlobe making you yelp, he growled and sat back up on his knees, he let you have control over your arms as he started rubbing his thick tip along your slit. He used his thighs to pin your legs together, making sure you wouldnt be able to squirm so much. He pushed in a little and sighed in relief at your loud whining “it hurts! miguel w-wait” but he didnt, he forced himself deeper and deeper, he knew it wouldve been easier for you if his dick was any smaller. He felt guilty in his gut as he continued and struggled to force his cock all the way inside you “shh relax, take me all in baby come on” he pulled back before pushing in again and this time your pussy opened up for him, letting him slide right in making you cry out loudly “miguel!” you were frantic, trying to get away from the pain but Miguel only held you in place, hushing you and kissing your shoulder as he refused to stop his movements.

“Shh it’s alright, dont be scared it’s over j…just stay still and oh- everything will be fine!” he stuttered as sweat dripped from his face. His gut was burning with desire and he couldnt stop, he so desperately wanted to pull out and hold you, tell you hes sorry but he couldn’t.

Miguel had shown a little mercy by flipping you onto your back and spreading your legs before slipping his hands behind your knees and pinning your legs to your chest, folding you together. He saw the fear in your face when you looked down at the size of him “no dont look mi amor, look at me thats it…you’re okay this is gonna feel so good trust me” you shook your head but he only nodded his before sliding his dick back into your pussy. You gasped and pressed your palm’s against his chest a poor attempt to keep him from going any further, he moaned and only slid deeper, hitting your cervix. “too deep” you told him shakily and he ignored you, lifting your legs higher onto his shoulders and pounding into you “fuck you’re so tight, leaking everywhere you little slut you love it, stop being so fucking dramatic and take it” the moment he said this, he slammed against your g-spot and your eyes rolled back “o-oh my god” you bucked your hips up and he smiled against your neck “good girl there we go…” he pulled away to look at you, taking in your beautiful features while pounding you.

You were moaning at each thrust, it was music to Miguels ears and as soon as you started panicking, unknown to what was coming he almost exploded. “mmm fuck dont fight it, let it happen bebita come on let it all out” his encouragement had you crying, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came, making it difficult for him to keep thrusting but it didnt matter, he grabbed your throat tightly and kissed you, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth as he rammed his warm sticky cum into your womb.

Miguel laid his head on your chest, he felt a weight lift off him and he came back to his senses when he heard you crying. He immediately shot up and looked down at you with a frown “oh no…oh im so sorry i..i didnt..i dont know what to say” he cupped your cheeks desperate to hear you say something.

You shook your head in his hands “please dont leave” Miguel was stunned for a moment at your plea, your body was shaking and his heart broke “hey..hey look at me im not going anywhere” he looked into your reddening eyes “im not going anywhere…im so sorry this wasnt how i wanted this to go” he sighed and laid his head back onto your chest “i was hit with some powder i dont know what came over me when i saw you, please babygirl believe me when i say i didnt wanna hurt you i-i never want to hurt you” you were looking up at him, smiling weakly “it’s okay Miguel..i understand” you nuzzle into him and he clung to you tightly “i wont let anyone hurt you..you’re mine” he was gentle with words, it almost felt normal.

You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 💕

likes and reposts are so appreciated <3

[wysteria-clad]

sweetly & softly.

pairing: moon boys x fem! reader; established relationship

a/n: a drabble or whatever this is considered as of some of the ways the moon boys show their love for you. sweet little things ♡

genre: fluff, slice of life, sappy/cheesy stuff.

warnings: none

-------

♡ Steven has a pinterest board multiple boards actually dedicated to you. Anything that reminds him of you, he pins it to the board titled 'My Love.' So simple, yet so sweet.

Occasionally Jake adds a couple of pins too, it ranges from a very specific absolutely ridiculous meme picture, to a picture of a beautiful sunset or a random yellow flower.

You absolutely melted when you found out about it. The board is messy, but super sweet and it captures how your beloveds see you.

♡ Jake memorized your favourite food and drink orders wherever you go. He remembers every single detail. If you hate something, he will causally remove it from your plate. If you love something, he will quietly add more to your plate from his.

♡ Marc is not usually good with his words. He is a man of action, and *so* good with his hands. He massages your feet without you having to ask or mention it. He reads your tells, he *knows* when you are tired, you don't even have to say anything. He reads your micro facial expressions and movements—a little frown on your lips, eyebrows narrowing, a tired smile, mischievous glint, Marc has a masters degree on it.

When you plop down on the couch or bed tiredly, he pulls your legs and places them on his lap and massages your legs and feet. His hard, calloused hands are ever so gentle with your feet. And then he kisses your toes tenderly, making you giggle and smile, "Stop it, that tickles!" You shouldn't have said that, it encourages him to do it more, leaving you in a fit of giggles and laughter.

♡ That time when Steven made a little care package for you when you had to leave and stay away from them for two weeks—your favourite snacks, copies of your two favourite books, scented candles. He also added handwritten love notes for each day from all three of them, and couple of their shirts sprayed with their perfume. This man goes above and beyond from you <3

Urgh. All three of them adore you, bestie <3

[pimosworld]

Stranger in my house

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

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

WK-1.6k

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

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

[Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

You notice him one day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ****

  You notice one day

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

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

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

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

  You should thank her mate

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

  Well it’s technically not anymore is it? 

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

  “I have one more thing.” You stand from the table and head to the kitchen to retrieve the apple pie on warm in the oven. To you it’s just a dessert, a non cake related dessert that just so happened to be his favorite. Steven helped you with the vegan crust because he was not about to let Marc have all the fun. 

  You return to the table with a slice and a fork to share. He stares at it for a moment and your heart sinks a little. 

  “I know what you’re going to say…”

  He cuts you off before you can finish, he stands so suddenly it startles you. He kisses you slowly at first, savoring the way you moan into his mouth. His hand is on the back of your head and the other around your waist and it feels so different. It’s like you’re sending him off to war and this is the last kiss you’ll ever share. Your lungs burn from lack of air but you don’t want to be the first one to break. 

  He pulls away as you look up at him. His eyes are squeezed so tightly shut as he tries to catch his breath. 

  “Honey,look at me.” 

  His brow softens as he opens his eyes revealing that deep chocolate brown, with a look that could only adorn your sweet Stevens face. 

  “Thank you, love.” 

  ****

  It goes like this for a while. You noticing him…him noticing you. 

  You notice as You quirk your eyebrow at him in the kitchen when he picks out the tomato on his sandwich and drops it in the trash like it personally wronged him.  

  “I thought you liked those?” 

  He notices After a long day at work in shoes you know we’re too uncomfortable he picks up your feet and places them in his lap. He rubs them at first bordering on painful that settles into something soothing. His fingers brush the bottom of your feet and you flinch at the ticklish feeling. He tsks at you under his breath and you still your movements when you meet his unfamiliar eyes. 

  You notice When he doesn’t hear you enter the flat. He’s at the kitchen sink washing dishes, shirtless in those gray sweatpants you love. He’s humming some tune you’ve never heard as you place your things down and toe off your shoes. You didn’t mean to startle him as your cold hands met his side and he turned quickly knocking a glass off the counter. 

  “Mierda quédate ahí!” You don’t speak Spanish but you’re too stunned to move anyway. He grabs you with one arm around your waist and carries you like a duffel bag over to the couch away from the glass. 

  “Sorry love, clumsy me. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Steven doesn’t look at you as he grabs the broom from the closet. 

  ****

He notices when he slinks in through the window in the early hours. It’s still dark outside as he strips himself of his moon knight clothes, the blood only distinguishable on his hands. As he slips past you to the shower he can see your shallow breaths while you lay out flat on the bed. 

  After a while you feel the bed dip beside you as you try to calm your breathing. He wraps his arm around you as he pulls your back flush to his chest. His breath is hot on your neck and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you. 

  “You’re a terrible faker mi amor.” Your breath hitches in your throat as he speaks the words into your ear. 

  “You have to slow down your breathing if you want to pretend to be asleep.” His voice a low growl as he places his hand on your chest. You can feel him take slow deliberate breaths as you try to match the rise and fall of his chest. ‘así’

  “This isn’t how you lay when you're asleep.” His hand leaves your body momentarily and you miss the heat of his touch. He grabs your thigh behind the knee and pushes it gently until it’s bent. His hand slowly guides you to your stomach while his other arm supports the weight of your head.‘es mejor’

  He envelopes you under the blankets and it takes all your willpower not to roll him over and straddle him. You don’t even know him. He buries his face in your neck and sniffs again inhaling your scent. You’re practically skin to skin in your satin slip dress and his bare chest and boxers. 

  “Is this okay?” His voice barely above a whisper as you nod your head. His lips ghost over your back before he kisses your shoulder. It’s those soft sleepy kisses adorning your body until the real sleep claims you both. 

  ****

  You awake to the feel of cold sheets beside you as you feel around for him. A sliver of light hits the room from the bathroom door slightly ajar. 

  “I swear to god Jake, if you fuck this up.”

Jake -he has a name

  It’s mostly Marc speaking idle threats as you listen in to a one sided conversation. Whatever his reservations may be, it's none of your business. You do know that he would never do anything intentionally to fuck this up. 

  Your boyfriend exits the bathroom still dressed only in his black boxers. “Love…we need to talk to you about something.” 

  He sits on the edge of the bed as he rubs circles on your legs under the sheets. 

  “I know.” 

  They knew…it’s why they can’t be mad when you finally talk about the stranger. You fell in love with him a long time ago. The one they tried to keep a secret. He no longer wanted to be kept in the dark. He loves you too much. This stranger in your house. 

@chichimisaki @simpforbritgents @casa-boiardi @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @missbeverlyhills

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Dejeme ver-Let me see

Mierda quedate ahi-Shit stay there

Asi- just like that

Es mejor- that’s better

[spctrsgf]

morning banter

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

word count: 1.2k

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

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

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

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

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

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this. 

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

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

Go to sleep, puta.

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

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

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

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

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

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

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

“Sure, whatever.”

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

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

Or, he tried to.

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

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?” 

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we?”

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

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

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

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

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

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

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

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

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

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

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

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

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

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

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

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

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

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

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

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

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

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

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

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

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

Genre: fluff & smut

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

***

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

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

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well why am I here?" 

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

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not the same."

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

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

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

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

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

"Say the words."

"What?"

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

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

"Any way that I ask?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

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

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

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

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

"Of course they are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Steven, calm down." You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have our actions not supported them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes Jake, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

[pygmi-cygni]

envy - jake lockley

envy - jealousy of somebody's success and a desire to have it for yourself.

cw: smut, feelings, body worship, jake is a little emotionally stunted, he learns to chillout a bit, nothing really kinky.

a/n: I know you guys were expecting some dom angry jake or something but i just want to kiss him tbh.

It had been a blissful few weeks. Khonshu had gone under for a while, meaning the boys had a long stretch of rest and relaxation. Marc had taken full advantage; slept almost every hour he fronted, honestly. You had some good snuggles on the couch together before bed. Steven was picking up a hobby of painting, and you loved to sit with him at the kitchen table and watch his creations.

Your relationship was glowing. There hadn't ever been such a long time that you could just be together, without worrying about Khonshu or anybody else.

Although, you couldn't help but feel something was wrong. Jake had always been the quietest alter, but he made sure to pop in at least once and say hello or dive for a kiss. He'd leave notes on the fridge or send flowers to your work.

Recently he'd been nearly silent. You could hear him in the morning; his footsteps were by far the heaviest, and he always hummed Sinatra while he brewed the coffee. But as soon as you'd go over to say good morning, Marc would blink back at you.

You hadn't said anything the first few days. Maybe he's catching up on sleep. But after a week, you'd started to feel hurt. it wasn't just his absence.

He looked at you differently. His eyes were cloudy and he didn't make eye contact. His jaw was clenched tightly. He looked...mad?

Jake hardly ever ignored you when he was upset. He was a little conflicted but he'd always apologize, showering you with affection.

The thought somersaulted in your head while you stood by the sink. Your cup of coffee had gone cold as you thought. Had you said something? Did you forget an important day? None of the valid reasons you could think of applied.

"You alright, dear?"

Steven's gentle question broke your reverie. A wistful smile flitted across your face.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, thanks, Steven," you nodded, kissing him on the cheek. "Just thinking."

He rubbed your shoulder and nodded towards the television. "Marc's been wanting to watch a new show, you wanna join?"

"Is that even a question?"

Laughing, you both curled up on the sofa, an old quilt tucked under your feet. It was a crime show, of course, but even with the gruesome details you found yourself drifting off, wrapped in warmth in Steven's lap.

Some time later, you woke to a jostling. Rubbing crust from your eyes, you pulled the blanket tighter and tried to find Steven. He was halfway off the couch, one leg still trapped under you.

"Why you leaving?" You mumbled pitifully, reaching out. He paused, before lifting his leg and stepping away.

"'M not Steven."

"Jake!" you sat up, suddenly awake. "Baby, where've you-"

"I'm gonna go to bed. He'll be back in the morning." He leaned forward and brushed the barest kiss to your hair, before stalking off.

You felt like you'd just been slapped. In your eight months with the boys, Jake was by far the most intimate, craving touch whenever possible. He'd cry if you didn't kiss him before work. And all of a sudden, he balked at a couch snuggle?

What?

The blanket trailed behind you, slithering over the cold floorboards as you padded after him.

He'd already shucked Steven's jeans and pulled the covers up to his chin, facing the wall.

You knew better than that. Jake's shoulders tensed when the mattress dipped. Shifting close, you tucked your hands around his waist and locked your legs around his hips.

He was stiff as a board, hands firmly under his pillow. You huffed, nudging your nose into his neck. He twitched at the ticklish feeling and you tried again, flicking your tongue out. Jake grunted and turned over, nose-to-nose with you.

"Hey," you whispered. His eyes glittered dark in the low light. You so badly wanted him to lean forward and brush your lips with his, but he stayed a few inches away.

"Steven and Marc are asleep," he whispered back. "You can see them later."

"I don't want them."

Something about your tone, soft and clingy, made his brow furrow. There was that look again; frustrated and cold. You leaned in to hide the cracking of your hurt.

He pulled away. You whined quietly, eyes welling. Jake's chest burned when he saw your tears, but he kept silent.

"Are...are you mad at me?"

He'd never heard your voice so shattered. It cleaved a hole right through his heart. Words got stuck in his throat. No, he wasn't mad. How could he be mad? You did so much for them, all of them. Maybe more for Marc and Steven, but...

"Mariposa..." he lifted a hand to your cheek. You leaned in, fisting your hands at his chest. Jake reluctantly held you back, tucking his chin over your head. You burrowed as tight as possible, squeezing against him in a way that made his heart hurt.

"Why did you leave?"

The question met his ears and he sighed. The complicated slurry of emotions hung heavy in his chest. Taking a laborious breath, he shrugged.

"Didn't want to interrupt the show."

"No. Why did you leave?" You pulled away, brow set. He looked away, exposed. That raw nerve that entangled his heart was throbbing with alarm. He was too open, too vulnerable. Both of his headmates were out, cutting off the exits.

A soft rub to his chest. He'd been hyperventilating. Your eyes were wide and worried.

"Jake?"

It was too much. He wanted to get away. This was too hard to explain. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult, why did you have to ask? Your curiosity was adorable but it disrupted his brooding intentions.

The bedroom began to fall away as the tight thrumming of his anxiety took over.

He shuddered in a breath, raking a hand over his face.

"I..." The rest of the sentence was gluey on this throat. He coughed and tried again. "I didn't want to interrupt...you."

"Interrupt? What do you mean?" You were still stroking his shoulder gently. Tears threatened to fall. this was going so badly.

"You. And...them."

Another slap to the face. You gaped at him, more in hurt than in shock. "Us? You mean - Jake, what the hell are you talking about? You're not interrupting anything-"

"Leave it, amor, forget I said anything," he muttered, cowering behind his walls again. You wrenched his head to yours in frustration.

"No, Jake Lockley, I will not forget it." Your eyes softened. "Why do you feel like that?"

"It's not-"

"It is important, mister."

Feeling like a child, Jake shuffled to face you and harrumphed.

"It...it seemed like you were in the middle of something," he mumbled, neck heating. Frowning, you shook your head.

"So? You're not banned from participating. I'd love to watch something with you."

You weren't getting it. This was why Steven did all the talking. Frustration churned in his chest. He just wanted to sleep and shoulder this off to Marc. You liked him better anyway.

"Just stop," he hissed, backing away, "you have your things with them, go enjoy that. You don't need me."

You were dumbfounded. What?

"Don't need y- Jake, what the hell?"

His claws were out, shielding the raw emotion pulsing in his heart. Just stop.

"You like them better, si? I know you want Marc, just let me sleep and he'll be-"

You yanked his head to yours, scowling at his bitter tone. A mix of torrential sorrow and dumbfounded irritation tore at your ribs.

"Jake Lockley," you seethed, "you've said that once and I won't settle for a second time. You are not nothing."

He met your anger with his, but a shining film of tears diluted the rage. "No," he whispered.

"I love you too, idiot," you said indignantly, tugging his hair. he bashfully ducked his head, wanting to hide the watery tears bubbling up.

"You know that, right?"

He didn't move.

"Jake."

You carefully lifted his chin, peering into his glistening eyes. A tiny, imperceptible whimper.

"Oh, honey."

He collapsed into your hug as you stroked his back, murmuring soothing reassurances as he choked back a sob. He'd never felt so exposed. The delicate flesh of his chest was flayed open, revealing the timidly thumping cavern of his heart. Red and tender, too soft to cope with the dangers of out there. it felt like you'd reached in and grabbed it, cradling it like the sun. Jake curled into himself, head dropping onto your chest.

"You- you just seem so right with them an' I didn't know if you actually needed me or if I was just there an', an-"

You pulled him to your chest, shushing the sobs that wracked his frame. Internally, you were a mess. He'd never shown this much of himself. How long had he been thinking this way? Thinking you didn't love him as much?

"Of course I want you," you said, shocked. "Of course, love, you're all important to me. Equally," you said firmly. Jake choked into your shirt and you rocked, side to side.

"Why would you think that?" you asked gently when he'd gotten his breathing back to normal.

He avoided your gaze, hot shame curdling his stomach. This wasn't how he expected this to go. He wanted you to brush him off, give him the predictable air of nothing. Clean apathy was easier to live in.

Jake felt like a baby deer, stumbling around in the throes of love, trying to get his feet back under him. This was new. this was different, he wasn't used to being so unsteady. He was the strong one, the big bad Jake that had everything under control-

"It's okay," you whispered, kissing his cheek, "I understand. Just let it out for a bit."

His hands curled at your hips, pulling you tighter as he hid in your neck.

Your shirt was soaked when you pulled away. He still wouldn't look at you, but you could feel his grip tighten on your wrists. Don't go.

Still kissing his face, you gently rucked up his shirt and stroked his chest. Jake sniffled and held you tighter, mouth connecting messily with your neck. The wet warmth of his tears mixed tenderly with his soft lips.

Carefully, like calming a spooked animal, you kissed down his jaw, laving your tongue on his neck and shoulders. Jake stuttered, unsure of how to handle the raw emotion. This was his thing. He did that, not the other way round. You kissed down his sternum, cradling his hands in yours.

"Pretty," you whispered into his warm skin. "have I told you how pretty you are?"

His chest was seized with emotion so thick he could barely breathe. 'I-I look the same as the others," he gritted out, trying to salvage his exterior. A petulant mewl when you sucked a bruise above his heart.

"I know, but you're lovely in your own way." You hovered over the mark, blowing gently and smiling at the prickling goosebumps. Jake didn't know up from down as you continued your slow descent. The heady mix of lust and adoration was making his head fuzzy.

The apartment fell away while you held him. He had started crying again; a silent barrage of warm tears trickling down his cheeks. You licked up the salt, pressing the taste of his yearning onto his tongue. Jake moaned weakly into your mouth, pawing at your shirt.

"Patient," you whispered, returning to your task.

He hiccupped and raked a hand through your hair. The thumping of his heart in your hands was harder now, glistening with newfound love. You continued to wrap him in a protective cape of encouragement, coaxing his shoulders to relax.

You stopped above his waistband, moving to straddle his lap. "Follow my lead," you instructed gently, looking into the dark well of his gaze. Jake Lockley was at a loss for words as you rocked against him, tucking is head in your neck.

The pure intimacy was stifling. He couldn't breathe around the weight of the affection you carried for him. Something had burrowed into the pores of his skin, tearing down the stone barricades around his mind.

The exposure didn't feel so bad. You were right there next to him, keeping his soft frailty from crumbling.

"You've got such nice eyes," you murmured, your own sweet gaze shining with kindness. Sniffling another wave of tears as you kissed his eyelids, Jake felt another wave of emotion.

The comments continued, praising his hair, his mouth, his skin, his strength. Each word rebuilt a piece of his armor.

Softer, better. Like flexible cotton rather than strangling iron. Somehow it felt stronger. Like he was soaring above the Earth, unstoppable.

"you're strong, Jake," you licked into his mouth, "you do such a good job with Steven, keeping him safe."

Alto. no, no, no he couldn't no this. too close to his sensitive middle. caught off guard, he reflexively pulled away, hackles raised. You crept higher on his lap, refusing to let him hide.

"marc knows too, sees how patient you are when he's mad." Another warm kiss and Jake was a mess.

His heart had been pounded to a bloody pulp with every praise, shuddering and pulsing weakly on the floor. your hands were stained, but you still held him lovingly. How did- how did you-

Another shuddering breath, and you blessed him with a reprieve from the attention. Your coaxing, tender touches never stopped, still petting the tension from his bones.

Jake was at the top of the tower, staring down into the abyss of this. This new thing; the drowning mass of you.

jump.

jump, he could do it. just dive in.

Your eyes met his again. "te amo."

the wind whistled by his ears. it's okay, it's okay, he'd-

he landed safely in your embrace, diving forwards to devour your mouth with his. This time you didn't push him away, but pulled him on top of you, running your hands over his sides. He desperately grabbed at your hips, wanting to mold into you. to grow into one body, every cell touching and twining until nothing could pull you apart.

"It's okay, hey," you cooed, helping him burrow into your chest. The warmth of your breasts surrounded his face. This was familiar, he could do this.

A shuddering sigh drifted musically through the room as he kissed and sucked, hoping to drive you even close to the pleasure you'd brought him.

His kisses were needy, harsh and desperate. thank you, they said. thank you thank you thank you.

Gently, softly, he licked down into your folds, pulling aside your panties. The soft tang of your sex made his heart flutter. Your hand was fisted in his hair, tugging and raking delicious rows of arousal into his core. Rivers of lust poured from every inch of him, fueled by the intensity of your affection.

"Good," he moaned into your folds, licking up your slick, "g-good God please-"

You trilled a pleased sigh, thighs tightening around his ears. Jake was engulfed in you; your sent, your softness, your everything. He didn't want to leave. How could he? The syrupy trap of your honeyed attraction had ensnared his heart and wasn't letting go.

"I love you," you panted at your climax, "Iloveyousomuch oh-"

Jake groaned when your wetness met his tongue again, drinking from your well like a parched soldier.

He climbed up your body, diving back into your mouth. You shuddered and wrapped around him, hand traveling to stroke slowly at his hardness. Whining softly, he positioned you to sit on top.

Another powerful punch of lust knocked the air from his lungs as you slipped him inside, face contorting with pleasure. Pride swelled, knowing he could do that to you. Him, not Marc or Steven or anybody else. You moaned and writhed for him.

Your kiss-swolled lips were slack as you rolled your hips, hands planted firmly on his chest. Jake brushed the hair from your face, gazing darkly into your hazy eyes.

"Mariposa," he breathed, capturing your lips in his. The shift made him slide deeper, stroking a heavenly spot deep inside. You cried out against his mouth and he swallowed the sound greedily, rocking harder and harder.

"Need," he moaned, "need you to f-feel good, baby, need ah-"

You clenched around him, hands digging into his back. The fluttering, trembling warmth that surrounded him was intoxicating. Jake slumped against the headboard, bucking his hips as you draped over him. Your warm, slick bodies rolled together, riding waves and waves of pleasure.

Not an inch between you wasn't completely smothered by the other. Jake felt hot arousal peaking in his core, sending a rush of adrenaline through his shaking muscles.

"Amor," he heaved, "amor, oh, please cum, please please I need you to cum," his voice pitched higher. You whimpered, shuddering as his thick girth stroked your walls perfectly, caressing every spot inside. He pulled you tighter, clutching you to his chest.

The sheets were twisted tight around your limbs, rucking and rutting harder and faster into each other. A sinful moan ripped your throat as you bounced on him, soft flesh glowing with the orgasmic halo. A final mewl and you were finished, pulsing hot and tight around him.

Jake bucked once more and thrust hard, shooting his climax as deep as possible. Your velvety folds greedily flared around him, drinking in his spend as you shuddered and keened. Before he'd even finished, he'd tucked you under him, greedily pressing his mouth against your sweaty neck.

I love you, he slurred, I love you so much, baby.

Your fingers limply entertwined with his, finally at peace.

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

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. SHARING FOOD : 1.1K WRDS

A/N : Here’s something to hold you guys over for the week! School has been a pain in the ass, so it’s been kind of hard to keep up with classes, homework, social, etc. Hope you guys enjoy these little scenarios where you ask the boys for a bite of their food, even though you told them you weren’t hungry! ALSO SORRY TO THE MARC FANS MY MIND WAS BLANK ON THINKING OF SOMETHING FOR HIM 💔💔💔

STEVEN GRANT .

“Are you sure you don’t want anything, love? Anything at all?” Steven asks you while preparing to order something in the drive-through for the two of you. “Mhm! I’m sure,” you reassure him with a nod for what feels like the millionth time in a row. He exhales deeply and nods in acceptance. He hates it when you insist on not ordering something for yourself. It’s not because he hates sharing his food, but because he wants you to treat yourself. You deserve it!

Your footsteps pad against the hardwood floor of you and Steven’s flat. You rub your eyes from the exhaustion of today. Your senses heighten a bit as you spot Steven on the couch. He’s watching a new documentary. You smile when you realize it’s the one you won’t stop telling him about. Your heart practically melts at the fact that he remembered.

“Steven,” you say in a sing-song voice as you walk up behind the couch. “Mm,” he hums as an absent-minded reply. You lean forward and slip an arm on his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest. “I’m hungry,” you complain. Your eyes drift to the screen, and for only a moment, you and Steven are indulged heavily in the documentary. Your boyfriend let out a breath and winced softly. “Sorry, hun. Did you say something? I was a little focused on my documentary,” he told you with a nervous chuckle. His words pull you out of your own trance, and you nod your head. “Yeah! I said I’m hungry,” you exclaimed.

Steven chuckles softly and releases a hum of acknowledgment. "Well, how about we solve that problem?” he asks with a soft smile. “But I’d really like it if you sat with me first,” he requested as a form of compromise. You smile and roll your eyes at him. He’s always known exactly how to make you agree to do something with him or for him. You walk around the back of the couch and flop down right next to him. Without asking, you reach over to the side table and grab a bite of his food. He swats at your hand with a stupid pout on his face before the two of you exchange snickers and laughs.

MARC SPECTOR .

“Whatever you say, baby,” Marc says in a tone that asks if you’re really sure. You laugh at the way he dramatically raises his eyebrows, throws up his hands, and widens his eyes. “Whatever I say,” you repeat while giving him a playful look. On the way home, though, you keep eyeing his bag of food as stubtly as your attempts can.

Marc sighs when he hears you approach the dinner table. “Marc! Hey,” you drag out awkwardly. He looks up at you from his phone and gives you the same look he always does—the one that tells you he’s always right. “Hungry?” he asks before you get the chance to spit it out. You drop your head in defeat and nod. “Yep,” you agree sheepishly while glancing at his food.

He nods while taking another bite. He reaches his hand into the bag and pulls out food for you. You get butterflies in your stomach as he hands you the packaged meal. “Your usual. With everything you always ask for and nothing of what you don’t ask for,” he says with a knowing smirk. You stand there silently, embarrassed that he knew you’d ask for his food but blushing at how he knew your exact order.

“My kiss?” he asks while giving you a side eye. You put your hands up in defense before leaning forward and kissing his cheek gently. “Thank you, Marc,” you chirp sweetly. “Thank you for the kiss, baby,” he says in a similar tone.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

“Dios mío,” Jake groans over the phone. “I know you’re going to beg me for a little bite of my food later, cariño. Tell me what you want me to get you,” the man urges, like his life depends on it. “Jake, I told you I’m not hungry! If I do get hungry later, I’ll heat up some leftovers or something,” you insist while laying sprawled out on your shared bed. Another noise of annoyance comes from your phone before your boyfriend speaks again. “Okay, mi sol. Whatever you say, don’t come begging for food later. You know I’ll make you do something for it,” he says with a soft chuckle. The two of you say your goodbyes before he hangs up.

“I’m home, chiquito,” he calls to you as he enters the flat, holding his bag of food in one hand while the other holds a flower. He struggles to shut the door with his hands full, but manages to get it done. “Jake! I missed you,” you exclaimed with excitement from the couch. “I know you did. You always do,” he says cheekily. You give him a look that says, ‘Really?’ “Okay, sorry! I missed you too,” he says in a dramatically sweet voice. You both share a laugh. He comes and sits down by you, the couch squeaking a bit once he does. “I got you a flower. Es muy bonito. Just like you,” he says before pressing a kiss on your forehead. He gently gets a hold of your jaw, then tucks the flower behind your ear. He smiles wider because, damn, you are just too much for him to handle. He loves how you look adorning his little gifts.

Jake lets out a grunt as he gets comfortable on the couch. He snatches the remote from your hand with a smirk. He begins to browse through the channels and starts to eat. As your boyfriend is focused on finding something interesting to watch, you carefully reach your hand into the bag of food. “Aye. Don’t,” he tells you with a stern tone. He’s always so good at noticing little details and catching things; likely from being a cabby for a living. You groan as your hand retreats. “Please? Pretty please? I just want a bite,” you ask with a slightly annoyed tone. “I told you earlier that you’d have to do something for me if you wanted some, cariño,” he reminds you. You huff softly and give him a look that prompts him to tell you what he wants you to do. He hums in thought, then makes eye contact with you once he thinks of something. He leans close to you and takes your jaw in his hand once more. “Say please again,” he purrs while looking at you. “Please,” you hesitantly beg. He smiles and pulls back, causing you to yearn for a kiss. He laughs and gives you a bite of his food before you steal the kiss you rightfully deserve.

[eyelessfaces]

pov: you're dating firefighter poe dameron<3

check this if you're interested in reading this<3

[lizispunkk]

Guys he’s so beautiful I cannot anymore chat

[the-offside-rule]

S.G, M.S, J.L (Moonknight) - The Three of You & Me

Requested: gotta love the moonknight ppl

Warnings: not really no

Steven Grant fumbled with his keys at the door of the flat, the heavy thunk of the lock finally giving way as the door creaked open. His face showed a mixture of exhaustion and that unmistakable, endearing Steven charm; hair a bit tousled and his shirt wrinkled from a long day at the museum. He stepped inside with a weary sigh, tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes, not caring where they landed. “Ridiculously tired doesn’t even cover it.” He muttered as he spotted his girlfriend, Y/n, sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs. He trudged over and collapsed next to her with a gentle thud, head immediately falling onto her lap. Y/n chuckled, her fingers tussling through his hair as his eyes shuttered shut, his body relaxing into the comfort of her presence.

“Love, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Steven groaned, his voice tired yet animated as he began to recount the day’s events. His hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, seeking comfort as much as he was giving it. “So, yeah, Donna’s been on me all day. She goes, ‘Steven, I need you to catalog all these artifacts before lunch,’ right? And I’m thinking, that’s impossible. She’s giving me-" He paused dramatically, lifting his head slightly to make his point. "Mummified cats! Actual ancient felines, Y/n. Who just tosses that at someone before lunch?” He shook his head in disbelief before lowering it back against her shoulder. “And the tourists, don’t get me started. Asking me questions like I run the whole museum. I’ve had to tell people ‘I'm not a bloody tour guide’ at least six times today, because Donna like, freaks out when I go about 'nattering' on about Egypt.”

Y/n smiled softly, letting him rant, knowing he needed this space to unwind. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, his voice growing softer with each complaint, the day clearly catching up with him. His eyelids drooped, his words becoming slower and less coherent. “I don’t know how you put up with me.” He mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep in her arms. She kissed the top of his head gently. “Because I love you, Steven.” He muttered something unintelligible, trailing off as sleep finally claimed him. His body relaxed completely, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

But after a minute, Y/n felt the subtle shift she had come to recognize. Steven’s body tensed slightly, his muscles twitching in a way that was different from the usual sleep movements. His breathing changed, becoming deeper, more controlled. When his eyes fluttered open again, they no longer carried the soft, dreamy expression she knew from Steven.

Marc Spector was awake now.

Y/n smiled knowingly as his gaze met hers, his expression focused and alert. Marc gave her a small, almost apologetic smile as he stretched, cracking his neck with a quiet sigh. “Hello, Marc.” She greeted him softly. Marc’s lips tugged into a brief smile. “Hey.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Steven was exhausted.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” Y/n said with a chuckle, watching him stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen. “You hungry?” Marc asked, already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients without much thought. “I can make something.”

“Sure, I could eat.” She replied, leaning back into the couch, content to watch him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to taking over when needed. In a matter of minutes, Marc had whipped up a plate of grilled cheese. He sighed as he plopped down beside her, handing her the plate and grabbing the control for the TV. "I expected some alfredo or something." Y/n joked. "You said you were starved, pasta takes too long to make." Marc replied, the quiet hum of the television filling the space. "How righteous. You sure it's not because you can't cook?" He scoffed. "Steven can't cook, I made our food before you came along." He said, putting the control down and grabbing a half.

After dinner, Marc flipped through the channels yet again, landing on something mindless, and sat back down, pulling Y/n close as they watched TV. But even Marc couldn’t stave off sleep forever. He yawned, stretching as he set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. “Guess it’s my turn to knock out.” He murmured, his voice rough with fatigue. Y/n smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Marc.” He mumbled something in response, already slipping into sleep. But it didn’t last long before that familiar shift happened again—his body changing, his posture becoming more relaxed yet somehow more confident. When his eyes opened this time, they held a sharp, mischievous gleam.

Jake Lockley was awake.

Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Buenos días, Jake.” she said with a teasing smile, despite the fact that it was still very much night-time. “Buenos días.” Jake replied with a chuckle, heading straight for the coffee machine. He moved with a smooth, confident ease that was completely distinct from either Steven or Marc. “Coffee? At this hour?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup, the rich aroma filling the room. “I’ve got a job to do.” Jake said, taking a sip and leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes focused on her. "Cab driving or cab driving." He chuckled. “Don't worry about it, cariño. Won’t be long.” He said finishing the cup of coffee and placing it in the sink. "Marc will clean this later, right?" She chuckled. "He won't like it but probably." He nodded along, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "Vale, hasta luego, cariño." He was about to reach for the door handle when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay?” Jake’s grin softened just a bit, his rough exterior giving way as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Siempre tengo cuidado. No te preocupes por esa carita bonita.” He murmured, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, watching as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He gave her one last glance, his expression full of unspoken promises, before slipping out into the night. The flat felt a little quieter with him gone, but Y/n knew better than to worry. Jake always came back, and she’d be waiting for him.

[gooddaysmeanwritingdays]

Hopelessly in Love with You

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!Reader, Marc Spector x gn!Reader, Jake Lockley x gn!Reader Summary: Even after all these decades you’re still head over heels in love with your husbands. And sometimes you can’t help but say it out loud. Warnings: Absolutely none. Just fluff—so much fluff! Word Count: 2805 word count A/N: I saw a facebook post about a woman saying that even after like a decade, she still got butterflies and stuff when she was around her husband, and so that’s what prompted this. 

This is technically in my Falling For Them series, but can be read separately. This was just something I wrote at 4 in the morning because I could. It was originally just Steven, but then I found it again 18 months later and decided to add more. So here it is

“I am in love with you.” 

Your husband looked up, his beautiful brown eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when you’d looked up at him across the room, it was like all the air had rushed from your lungs.

Steven blinked again, his smile a little bewildered and soft as he said, “Well, that’s good, love. What with us being married and all.” 

It was a Wednesday afternoon and you were both doing your own thing. It wasn’t a particularly spectacular Wednesday afternoon—it wasn’t your anniversary or anyone’s birthday. You were spread out across the floor working on your novel and Steven was at his desk going over his notes for the new museum exhibit. 

But when you’d looked up to ask him about—hell, you couldn’t even remember what—you were hit with such a powerful wave of ‘Oh gods I am so in love with you’ that you could barely breathe. 

It had been thirty-two years since you’d said “I do” and you were still so much in love with him. And some days it would just hit you like that. Like a cannonball to the face that you were in love with these men, and they loved you back. It was the giddiest feeling in the world. 

You stood up, stepping over the papers that had seemingly exploded around you, and headed to Steven. His arms were already open to you as you scrambled awkwardly into his lap. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it had been in your twenties, but it made him chuckle slightly and you got there eventually. 

“No. You don’t understand,” you whispered solemnly, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “I am madly in love with you.” 

His face burst into a beautiful smile as his arms came around your waist. “I am madly in love with you too,” he whispered, leaning up to kiss you. 

Kissing Steven was like fireworks and slow dancing. The decades since you’d met hadn’t diminished the fire his touch sent racing through you. Every brush of his lips against yours had your heart racing and your soul singing. You tipped his head back to deepen the kiss, suddenly desperate for more, and his moan sent shivers through you. Your hands slipped into his hair and his slipped under your shirt. 

Gods, I could do this all day. 

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to rest your forehead on his as you both caught your breath. 

“If that was your proof, love, I may need some more evidence,” he teased. His thumbs drew circles on the skin under your shirt. 

You grinned, closing your eyes at his touch and he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. He lit a fire along your skin as he grazed his lips along your jaw to your pulse point. 

“Thirty-two years and you still make me feel like every kiss is our first kiss,” you whispered as he traced circles into your skin with reverential tenderness. You pulled one of his hands from your waist to over your heart where you could both feel it pounding away. “You make my heart race every time you look at me.” You brought his hand up to cup your cheek. “I feel like my face is going to break with how much I smile just thinking about you.” You move his hand to our stomach. “And I still get butterflies every time I wake up next to you in the morning.” 

Steven looked up at you like you were his reason for living. He looked at you like you’d taken all the air from his lungs and were filling them with pure oxygen. 

You leaned forward to trace his lips with yours. “Kissing you is like I’m learning to breathe all over again.” You couldn’t help your smile as you pulled back slightly. “It’s like I’m back at the start, falling for you all over again. And it is as easy as it was back then.” 

There was a shine to his eyes and he held you close as you placed soft kisses along the backs of his eyelids. 

“Except it’s better,” he said when he could finally speak. “It’s so much better than the beginning.” He cupped your cheek with a holy reverence like he still couldn’t believe you were real. “I don’t have to pretend like I don’t want to spend every second of my life kissing you. I don’t have to live with my imagination of what a future with you would be like.” His kiss was so unbearably soft you wanted to stay there forever. “I get to wake up every morning knowing you’re beside me. I get to tell you every day how much I love you. I get to be your husband.” 

Even after all these years the word still made butterflies erupt in your soul, and you could tell in the way his heart fluttered underneath your hand that it was the same for him. 

“Falling in love with you for the first time was breathtaking, but being married to you—it’s a dream come true.” 

You just had to kiss him again for that. 

You pulled back and settled into his arms, content to never move again. Steven shifted you slightly so he was comfortable and returned to his work on the exhibit. 

But eventually, your body made its complaints known and you had to move. You weren’t a spring chicken anymore and as delightful as it was to sit on your husband’s lap all day, you needed to move to a comfier spot for that to work. You tugged him after you, determined not to do anymore work, and headed to the couch. Today was officially now a cuddle day.

“Also, it’s been thirty-two years, four months and seventeen days.” He shrugged when your eyebrows shot up. “Jake’s been counting.” 

“Well,” you leaned in for another kiss. “Here’s to another twenty-two years, four months, seventeen days. And forever.” 

“Forever,” Steven breathed, wrapping you in his arms.

~~~

He looked so soft in the mornings. Like he’d never worried about anything in his life. 

You’d both been awake for a few hours now, but it was Saturday and you didn’t need to get out of bed at all if you didn’t want to. And lying next to your husband, you never wanted to move again. 

“You’re staring,” Marc murmured, eyes still closed.  

You reached out to trace his nose, softly following the path to his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids. He kissed the tip of your finger when it passed his lips, and you died at the cuteness. 

“I can’t help it,” you said, biting your lip at how damn cute he was. “I am so in love with you.”

Under your finger his lips curled into that gorgeous smile you adored so dearly. “I love you too, baby.” 

You huffed out an exasperated sigh and shuffled closer. “No,” you said like he was being deliberately obtuse. You rolled both of you so you were on top of him, straddling him. Marc snorted, still grinning as his hands came up to hold you in place. He didn’t open his eyes. “I am in love with you.” 

“Ah.” He nodded like he finally understood. You poked him in the chest and he pressed his lips together to keep back a laugh. “Of course. My mistake.” 

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and you knew he was doing it just to be stubborn, so you leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. When that didn’t work, you pressed a line of soft kisses down his nose, mouth, chin, along his jaw and to his ear—right where you knew he was ticklish. 

He huffed a laugh and finally opened his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Your heart fluttered. Gods, you loved those eye crinkles. Your boys hadn’t had them when you’d met them. They hadn’t had much to laugh about back then, but over the years their laugh lines had deepened. And boy did you adore them. They were a sign of your darlings growing as people, and letting themselves be comfortable again. 

They were no longer ‘Moon Knight’ anymore, and it was mornings like these that were a reminder of that. They were all yours. You didn’t have to worry about losing them, nor did they ever have to worry about you getting hurt because of them. 

You were safe. All of you. 

And it was because of that safety your darlings could have laugh lines and lazy Saturday mornings with you. 

It was like Steven had said. Falling in love with them had been amazing, but being married was a million times better. You wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. 

You shrugged helplessly, almost too overcome for words. “I really am just so in love with you.” 

Marc melted at that. His grin softened into an adoring smile, and his hands came up to cradle your face. His thumb traced your cheek and you melted into his touch. The look in his eyes reminded you of the day he said “I do”, and of that night, and every day since. 

“I am absolutely in love with you too.” He pulled you closer to brush his lips against yours. “Every day I think I can’t possibly be more in love with you. But then the sun rises and I can’t breathe with how much more I love you.” 

You started at the unexpected poetry from your normally close-lipped husband. It wasn’t the first time he’d blown you away with his words, but just like always, you never expected it. You buried your face in his neck, cheeks aflame and heart racing. “You are impossible!” 

His laugh rumbled through his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter against him. “I learnt from the best,” he agreed, planting an adoring kiss on the side of your head. 

~~~

Jake was pouting. Every time you’d look over at him, he’d poke his bottom lip out and turn away, arms crossed. And every time you asked him what was wrong he’d just pout harder. He’d been like this all day and you were starting to wonder if this was a prank. Or if maybe you really had upset him. 

So finally you cornered him in the bathroom when he was hunched over cleaning out the cupboards. You stood in front of the door and raised an eyebrow at his back. He couldn’t escape now. 

He stood slowly, eyeing you and his blocked escape before he eyed the window too. But when he looked back at your narrowed eyes he knew he was pushing his luck so he just pouted. Again. With those damn puppy dog eyes. 

Gods, he’s killing me. And he knew it too. He knew what that look did to you. He’d seen you cave to Steven with it enough that he knew it was your weakness. All your darlings knew how to use it on you, but Jake wasn’t getting away with it today. 

“I don’t think so.” You took a step closer. “You’ve been pouting at me all day.” You closed the door. “And every time I ask you what’s wrong, you pout even more.” You stalked towards him until his back was against the wall and you were toe-to-toe. “So tell me. What. Is. Wrong?” 

Jake looked away, his chin tipped up so he was staring at the ceiling and resolutely avoiding your eyes. 

“Jake Lockley,” you warned. 

Your patience was wearing thin. You’d already ruled out this being a joke or a prank, and now you were left with him being upset over something you’d done. And it was exactly like Jake to avoid an issue upsetting him until it went away. If Marc or Steven were upset, all hell broke loose, but Jake? No, he’d let that simmer until he had an ulcer. 

And even after all these years, that was something you hadn’t helped him work through entirely. Hence today’s issue. 

You raised an eyebrow when he still hadn’t said anything. 

“You haven’t said it to me,” he finally muttered, pouting harder. 

You reached out to put your fingers to his chin, tilting his face back down to yours. “Haven’t said what, baby?” 

He avoided your eyes so you stepped even closer so you were all he could see, and finally he blurted, “You haven’t said you’re in love with me.” 

You frowned a little. “What do you mean? I say it all the time.” 

And you did. Every chance you could you’d tell your boys how much you loved them. You’d both gone through points in your lives where you thought no one loved you, so all four of you had made it a point to say it every chance you could. 

Hell, you had even instituted a system where three taps meant ‘I love you’ so you could all say it whenever you felt it, all without saying it. 

But Jake was shaking his head, pouting even harder as he forced himself to look away. “No, not like that. Not like you said to Steven and Marc. Not like that.” 

Oh. He was talking about yesterday with Marc and last week with Steven, where you’d been so in love with your husbands you couldn’t help but tell them. 

Oh, baby. Your other hand came up to cup his face, ducking your head so he could look at you and your heart skipped at the emotion in his eyes. 

He was jealous. 

You bit your lip to keep from grinning at how cute he looked. You hadn’t seen it before because you’d been focused on other things, but when Jake pouted…

Gods, you loved that look. You wanted to make him pout like that all the time. Maybe you could get him to look like that next time you were in bed. Make him beg a little…

You shivered at the delight that brought, and his eyes lit up a little at the movement. 

Stop it. Now’s not the time. 

You reached up to cup his cheeks and you knew there would never be a moment in your life where you weren’t in love with this gorgeous man. “Falling in love with you was inevitable,” you whispered, echoing the words of your vow all those years ago. “There has never been a moment where I haven’t been absolutely head over heels in love with you, Jake Lockley.” 

“Yeah?” He gave you a small smile, and you knew he was lapping up your words, just like he did every time. 

It had broken your heart when you’d learned that of all of them, Jake had been loved the least. That not once in his life had anyone told him that they loved him. From then on you’d made it your mission to tell him so often that he would never doubt his worth ever again. 

“Yeah, baby.” A smile escaped your lips and your eyes creased with how much you adored him. “Sometimes it just hits me how much I love you. Before I met you I didn’t realise I could love someone this much, and then I fell in love with you and—” you shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.” 

Jake’s smile bloomed into a grin that had his eyes crinkling and his cheeks blushing. “Good.” 

Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted up into the air. You shrieked, laughing, and clutched his shoulders to keep from falling. Even as old age crept into the bones of your darlings, they still surprised you with how much they could still do. 

He spun you around before setting you back on your feet, your back against the wall. He leaned in, trapping you against him as he curled a hand against your cheek. His nose brushed against yours and he was grinning so hard you knew his cheeks were aching. Just like yours. 

You arched into him, biting your lip as his thumb traced your cheekbone. 

“Tell me again,” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours in just the way he knew drove you crazy. 

Your heart pounded, and you wanted to bury your face into his chest to hide the blush burning across your cheeks, but you knew nothing but the truth would save you. So, you took a handful of his shirt and pulled him even closer. Then, with a brush of your lips against his, you said, “I am madly, deeply, inevitably and hopelessly in love with you, Jake Lockley.” 

He snickered. “Gross,” like he wasn’t entirely head over heels for you too, and pulled you in for a searing kiss. “But me too.”  

A/N: Reblogs, comments and likes give me the dopamine to keep writing, so if you liked this oneshot,

Let me know what you think 💖

And if you want more like this, follow me here or on AO3 (or both)

[moonpascaltoo]

STEVEN GRANT / MARC SPECTOR / JAKE LOCKLEY

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

MASTERLIST • OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS • 05/26/24

moon knight one

moon knight three

@laaundromat         ☼ building love         Steven has unconsciously set himself up on a date with his crush.

@storiesforallfandoms         ☼ how things are         now that they’ve learned how to share the body, they must come to terms with the fact that they also have to share their wife

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

@mccn-bcys         ☼ just a touch of your hand part 2 part 3         when you turn eighteen, an ink stain appears on your skin wherever your soulmate touches you for the first time. the boys each are dealing with their stain in their own way.     ☼ sensual pleasure?         your friends take you to the museum but you never were interested in the history. Until your friend introduces you to a cute gift-shoppist who gives you little history lessons. Suddenly, a ring sparks becomes a little more than a cool item he showed you.

@missdictatorme         ☼ open my eyes         Jake and Steven were more than happy when you agreed to be in a relationship with them, but Marc barely fronts when you're near. Will he warm up to you over time?     ☼ third ones the charm part 2         Jake Lockley was fine. Really. Marc and Steven are happy with their girlfriend and he's okay staying in the shadows. He's used to staying in the shadows. He managed to stay hidden from the boys for years, but lately something makes him take control more and more. Or rather, someone makes him take control more and more.     ☼ the thin line         Steven and Marc are literally glowing with happiness since they were in a relationship with you. Jake is mostly annoyed and is constantly trying to make you leave. Marc and Steven are having none of it.         ☼ forget me not         You and the boys (uhm…) decided to break up after the fights became more and more frequent in your relationship. Marc was mostly disappointed, Steven was sad and Jake… Jake was bitter. And angry. So when you send them a text weeks after the break up to ask them to collect their remaining stuff from your apartment, maybe Jake isn’t happy when he sees you might have moved on.

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

@m00nsbaby         ☼ the already over series         ☼ weightless         The feeling of being trapped goes beyond the ankle bracelet that keeps him tied to the bed.

@bruhstories         ☼ canonic jar         marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.

@eyelessfaces         ☼ formal wear

@bensolosbluesaber         ☼ the jake problem part 2         Jake hates you. Like really hates you, which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t dating Steven and Marc. But maybe, just maybe, Jake doesn’t hate you.

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

@juneknight         ☼ dozing         A man falls asleep on you during your bus ride to work. 

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

@redeyerhaenyra         ☼ sleeping beauty         After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.

@writefightandflightclub         ☼ shadow of a doubt         marc was first. steven was second. khonshu’s never going to love you. …and you’re wondering if jake will ever get there at all.     ☼ no fish were harmed in the making of this meet cute     You have a dilemma. You don’t want to sell the man any more fish. But you do want him to keep coming back to your shop

@bits-and-babs         ☼ chocolate         After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.     ☼ bumpy ride         The handsome man who you see on your commute to work every day is always on your mind.

@spctrsgf         ☼ cake

@thatsthewrongwallcraig         ☼ a night at the museum         After asking you out, Steven invites you to a private tour of the National Art Gallery.

@thatredheadwriter         ☼ on the mat         You’re Marc and Steven’s ‘guy in the chair’ for lack of a better term, helping them with all things techy. When you get injured trying to help on a mission, Marc decides you need to learn how to take care of yourself so it doesn’t happen again. Gym training with Marc turns into something else entirely.     ☼ mine         The suit, the suit is amazing. Honestly it is. But you can’t help but be the slightest bit annoyed when it erases the marks you leave all over him. Lucky for you, Steven’s more than happy to let you have another go.         ☼ outnumbered         You’re Layla’s adoptive sister, and Marc’s former lover. Being reunited with both of them stirs up some old feelings, but that gets pushed to the backburner when you’re severely injured during a fight. But things tend to boil over when they’re left too long, so what happens when you have some time alone with Marc.

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

@asimplearchivist         ☼ first kiss         there was no possible way that you could have romantic feelings for steven. right?         ☼ sad ending         you and jake enjoy having movie nights, but he has the habit of spoiling the endings for you. this time is different, though.     ☼ speed dating         you're down in the dumps about the disheartening lack of prospective romantic partners interested in initiating a long-term relationship with you. your ever-helpful coworker amy decides to give you (and a highly interested would-be suitor) a nudge in the right direction—just not in the way you might expect.     ☼ is that my shirt?         you and the boys have a set of rules. jake doesn’t like it when you break them.

@luc-k-y         ☼ stop looking at me like that part 2         ☼ anything for you

@campingwiththecharmings         ☼ insomnia         Steven can't sleep and you, uh, help him out.

@peterthepark         ☼ each time you fall in love         you play mercenaries with marc. you play lovers with jake. you play house with steven. you suppose romance comes in all forms of their differing love for you.

@ofstarsandvibranium         ☼ to the rescue         showing up on Stevens date from the first episode

@oddballwriter         ☼ unexpected addition         Steven and Marc know about Jake's existence and they have been trying to get used to him and get to know him, and during a mission where they need help they found out Jake has been having like a long term relationship with the reader (who is Sekhmet's avatar)

@sailorkamino         ☼ hospital bed confessions         As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

@angel-of-the-moons         ☼ a rose under the moon         You've waited your whole life to meet your soulmate. You just didn't know your soulmate was so close by, all this time. But...How the hell can you handle being thrown into a world full of gods and magic? You're just a shopkeeper! Why is your heart being tugged by three different threads?

@psithurista         ☼ stuck             You stop by Steven’s place one night after work. Somebody else answers his door.

@reallyrallyauthor         ☼ the coffee incident part 2 part 3         No coffee in the morning leads to a mystery for Marc, an apology from Jake, and guilt from Steven.     ☼ paying your debt         Moon Knight saved your life, and now you're Marc Spector's glorified assistant. But when you pick him up one night after a fight, you get to feel the suit first hand, and what he keeps underneath it.         ☼ free lunch         You're teaching Steven how to drive, but he’s so tense that you absolutely have to get him to relax first     ☼ cupcake man         Jake helps his favorite bartender out w/ a problem they can’t solve themselves (which I like to imagine is Jake’s #1 all-time favorite hobby)    

☼ bad girl           Jake has a smoking kink, and a way for you to indulge him without consequences.         ☼ a friend         You and Marc Spector have a purely physical relationship. Both operating in society’s gray area, you try to avoid conflicts of interest. But when you’re hired to steal an artifact from a London museum, you wonder if even Marc himself knows all of his secrets.         ☼ museum date             Marc gets set up on a blind date at an art museum         ☼ slow songs             Your friend, Marc, pretends to be your boyfriend at a wedding, but is it pretend?         ☼ here we go series

@bit-dodgy-innit         ☼ the shape of youniverse         A full blown AU of forging a life and family with a post-Khonshu Moon Boys that’s as heartfelt as it is filth.

@the-little-ewok         ☼ tilt part 2 part 3 part 4         Steven Grant wants to tell you the truth about why he missed your date, but it isn't Steven you meet... 

[jake-g-lockley]

Gentle Sutures (Marc Spector x reader) 

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

A/N: This story is for my dearest @softieekay thank you for being there for me <3 Warnings: slight hints of past abuse, but the rest is fluffly fluff flufffff

Word count: 1.4k ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc Spector was head over heels in love. He had been standing in one spot for god knows how long, staring at you while you worked. Never in his life was he accustomed to so much calm. If his alter did not sign him up for volunteering, he would have just been sitting at home, sulking as usual. Now all he wanted to do is walk over to you and tuck the beautiful coil of hair that frames your face behind your ear, not that it bothered him, he just wanted to touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips. "It’ll only take a second, auntie." you said, the biggest, most purest smile gracing your face.

Marc grew to love that smile in the past few months travelling around with you. You are a junior resident, always keeping to yourself but you lit up the whole woom whenever you interacted with patients. In the times that he spoke to you, or gained the courage to approach you, he found out that all you wanted in this world was to help people in need. He knew from the way you would treat them, you would definitely become a world class doctor.

Marc watched as your dexterous hands drew blood as quick as ever, even before the patient got a chance to wince.

"Are you a nurse, my dear, your blood drawing technique is excellent! '' the patient exclaimed.

"Oh no, auntie, I am merely a doctor. "You smiled shyly.

"Well, coming from a former nurse, you make an amazing doctor, my dear!" the patient said, taking ahold of your hand.

Marc could tell that you had a faraway look in your eyes, just for a few seconds before snapping out of it and squeezing the patient's hand back. Your eyes suddenly met Marc's as if you knew he was watching and Marc swore his heart nearly stopped when you gave him a small smile.

"Marc, I think it's time for you to walk away and stop gawking at her like a lost pigeon, mate." Steven suddenly said, making Marc blink and turn on his heel comically, almost running into another volunteer.

“That one’s handsome.” your patient tells you as you snickered at the confused army man.

Your eyes widened and you covered it with a gentle scoff.

“I don't date who I work with, auntie." you say sticking a plaster on the patient's arm.

"But you're thinking about it." the patient says with a sing-songy voice. as she gets up and you roll your eyes playfully.

Truth be told, you thought Marc Spector was one of the most interesting human beings you're met. Whenever you had the chance to look into his eyes, you knew he had been through a lot. You felt like you wanted to unlock every single secret behind those eyes but at the same time you wanted to help him forget all of them.

You watched as Marc stumbled around for a while, mumbling to himself. You watched as a little boy toddled up to him and started pulling on his housers. Marc turned and startled himself but knelt down next to the boy and smiled.

You felt something pull at your heartstrings as you watched Marc interact with the boy. Your hand immediately found your necklace as your thoughts dived into your past. You strained hard to keep the thoughts at bay but it only made you tremble. you pulled the chair behind you and slumped on it, the horrible yelling filling your head and ears.

You didn't realise you had your head in your hands and that you were not breathing until you heard your name. You lifted your head and your eyes met big brown ones which were full of concern and worry.

Marc tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your face in his hands. You found yourself mimicking the breathing he was making you do and soon your heart slowed and you calmed down. You closed your eyes and leaned into Marc's touch as his thumb stocked your cheekbone.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. '' You whispered, but Marc was already shaking his head gently.

"You have nothing," Marc's thumb wipes the tear dripping out of your eyes, " to be sorry about.

You sighed and nodded, your hand caressing Marc's hand  that was so ever gently cupping your face.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You looked up at the sky and sighed as you placed your kindle aside. You felt better now, but you kept imagining Marc's beautiful brown eyes calming you down. You breathed in, the salt in the air filling your lungs with warmth. The rhythmic cadence of the waves echoed like gentle sutures, delicately mending the fractures in your tender heart.

"You don't look like the beach kind of person, you know. "A deep Chicago drawl suddenly interrupted your thoughts.

You gasped as you turned to your left, big brown eyes and tanned skin meeting your sight. The eyes widened slightly and the person moved back slightly.

“Sorry, sorry, you scared me for a second. Too stealthy dude!” you chuckled, clutching your chest.

"Force of habit." the army man gives you a gentle smile and scooches closer.

The both of you sit in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the waves and watching the sky print its own masterpiece as the sun sets over the horizon. The silence was comforting, and Marc's presence was more than a warm blanket that you had been expecting all your life.

You were the first to look away from the sunset.

Marc was absolutely stunning in the evening glow. You found yourself smiling at the way the corners of his eyes pinched as he gazed at the view before him. The hook of his nose and his plump lips made the blood rush to your face.

“You done gawking yet, doctor?” Marc smiled and turned to you.

“I was not gawking” you scoff, which made Marc belt out a laugh.

Suddenly, Marc’s hand was on your face. He plucks something from your face and shows it to you.

“Eyelash.” Marc turns his whole body towards you and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Make a wish, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to just have peace and quiet. Your life has been loud and scary, a little quiet would be all you need to heal. Peace would mend your heart and god knows where you would ever find it, but you wished with all your heart.

With that, you blew and felt warmth fill your heart.

“Hey.” Marc whispered .

You slowly open your eyes to see Marc looking at you with a dopey, boyish look on his face.

“You are an amazing door, you know that?” He says, cupping your face with his left hand, his right reaching for yours that were on your lap. 

“And you're gorgeous.” you swoon, your brain misfiring the second you leaned into his touch.

“Woah, where did that come from?” you say, pulling slightly back, but Marc held you in place.

“You are exceptionally gorgeous too, sweetheart.” Marc quips and gives you the most dazzling smile.

Nothing could have prepared you or Marc for how you reacted next. You leaned in and placed the softest kiss you've given anyone on Marc's lips. You pulled yourself back almost immediately, your hand flying to your lips as you watched a bewildered expression creep up Marc's face. “Oh god Marc, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that, don’t know what’s happening-”

“Shut up and let me do that again” Marc cut your jabbering off instantly.

With a lurch, Marc pressed his lips to yours and you felt your body give way as your hands gripped at his shirt, falling and pulling him down with you. You deepened the kiss and Marc groaned into your mouth. When you both finally broke apart, you were out of breath and Marc pressed soft kisses on your neck until you came to.

“That was …” “Absolutely amazing, just like you.” Marc gazes down at you, admiring the way your hair is splayed around you like a halo and the light of the sunset making your skin glow. Marc lays down next to you pulling you closer to him as the both of you stare into each other’s eyes as if you were searching for something. “What now?” you whispered, your heart preparing itself to hear the worse from Marc. “You don’t need to worry about what is next, my angel, just be in the moment.” Marc’s words curled around your scared heart, encasing it in peace like no other. “I’m glad I found you.” you say, tears forming in your eyes.” “I’m glad I found you too sweetheart.” Reblogs are appreciated ~~ Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas  @euphoricosmo  @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @britishscum @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @thewintervalkyrie @anonymously35 @nerdreader @marylovesdilfs @jakelockleysdoll @pigeonmama @sarveshishwarishsuta

[clazaries]

Just a Neighbour Thing

(MarcSpector! x f!reader)

Summary: Your neighbour Marc Spector is a pain in your ass. Until he saves your life. w/c: 3.9k Warnings: a lil bit of violence but nothing too graphic. Fluff! a/n: I'll be posting a masterlist soon because I think I've got about three or four fics out now and a few to come!

Marc Spector is an elusive character. A man of very few words and an enigmatic personality - not that you know him well enough to judge his character - but from the rare occasions where your paths crossed in your apartment building, it can be summed up with a small smile from you and a smouldering glare from him. Often aloof, the opportunity to get to know him better as a neighbour never seems to present itself and it leaves you struggling to understand who’s to blame. It’s obvious personal defects are the cause; but his or yours? 

There’s been many occasions where you’ve had to confront his brick-wall disposition, mostly due to the fact that his ringer on the main lobby doesn’t work, so naturally people go for the next best option which is to press the ringer directly below it: yours. You deliberately leave his mail to accumulate at your door until it becomes an unavoidable mound of tax letters, local advertisements and rent notifications and only then do you brave the trip to the apartment above to deliver his post. 

It’s always the same. You knock on the door in a rhythmic pattern that’s become yours. Within seconds he answers the door with the same cold expression, wordlessly takes his mail no matter how hard you try to start up a conversation and before long, you’re staring face to face with the shabby wooden surface of his door. The only thing that changes with each encounter are the clothes that he wears. Different but fairly relative to his style. Purely functional and never dressed for any occasion.

You didn’t mind it for a while. There was some satisfaction and fulfilment to be found while doing your neighbourly duties and despite the fact that there was every possibility he wouldn’t do it for you, you weren’t someone who held a grudge or felt like they had ever been owed a favour. But the mailman had happened upon you on a very bad day and you didn’t feel like accepting his parcel. You had recently been made redundant after the company you worked for did a reshuffling of working positions and yours wasn’t to be included in the new phase they had turned over. So you wallowed at home, watched numerous brain-rotting films, ate a load of junk food and drank lots of wine. 

It was nothing personal towards the mailman when he chapped on your door and demanded a signature for Marc’s parcel, but you couldn’t pretend to be the ‘lovely-neighbour-from-downstairs’ any longer. 

“This is for 8B upstairs. Says there.”

“I know. I can read,” the mailman grumbles, “but I tried knocking on his door but there wasn’t an answer. The parcel needs to be left with someone and you’re the nominated designee.” 

“Can’t you just leave it with another neighbour?” 

“No, says it needs to be left with you.” 

You look at the large rectangular box and consider it. Aside from Marc’s address scribbled on the top, the box is littered with numerous stamps from various international postal services, few you recognize. It looks to be well travelled and handled with very little care yet there’s nothing to suggest what’s inside. With a sigh, you take it from the mailman. It could be important, especially if it’s gone through so many countries to get here and the fact that you would be to blame if it got stolen or damaged. “Fine, I’ll take it.” 

The mailman looks to his feet where a growing pile of letters addressed to Marc starts to spill over into the threshold of your apartment, judgement washing over his features. “Do you…do you normally take all of his mail as well?” 

“Do me a favour? If you ever see the guy from 8B, tell him to come collect his fucking mail.” 

There’s a part of you that feels slightly bad for the mailman when you slammed the door in his face, but then you remember that if Marc stopped being so fucking immature about answering his own door to receive his mail, then you wouldn’t need to feel bad about anything. You leave the parcel sitting on your hallway table, waiting for the day Marc grows some responsibility and asks you for it. 

~~~~

When you placed the parcel on the hallway table, you didn’t expect that it would be sitting there for over a week collecting dust, nor did you expect the curiosity of what’s inside to completely consume you. You walked past it every time you left or entered your apartment. It was in the corner of your eye every time you sat in the living room. It practically radiated temptation every time you took notice of it, screamed at you like it was begging to be opened and you had to force your grubby hands to keep still and not reach for it. But you so desperately wanted to know what was inside. Why was it so conspicuous? Why has it suddenly become the most interesting thing in your apartment?

Perhaps Marc was testing you, sending you a little something of no importance to experiment with your curiosity and test whether or not he could trust to leave you with his personal belongings like he does with his letters. That’s certainly what it felt like by the turn of day eight of the parcel being there and you simply refused to be a rat in his experiment. 

That determination lasted for two whole days before it started to truly pester you. It was starting to get in the way and it felt as though it was getting impossibly bigger and bigger. On day nine you were ready to break it, smash it against every wall, rip every piece of cardboard that keeps it together and deliver it in that state to Marc yourself. From your sofa you stood, eyeing the parcel as if it was taunting you and with adrenaline thrumming through your veins, you stomped towards it. Hands outstretched, you were ready to throw it in any direction but something stopped you at the very last second. Something peculiar and completely out of the ordinary. You halted just centimetres out of reach from the parcel, centimetres out of reach from your door where you could hear the whispers of two or three men right outside. You could see the moulds of their bodies through the peephole. 

“Look, I’m telling you he lives here-”

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. All his mail is sitting here. It’s definitely the right apartment. The parcel is in there.” 

The parcel. They’re here for the parcel. 

“C’mon let’s get this over with. He’ll be back soon. Where’s the crowbar?” 

In the very few heart-stopping, crucial seconds you have before anything happens, you quickly banish all hysteria and muster all rationality and flip over the keyless lock and quietly shuffle away from the door with the parcel in hand. You estimate you have about 15 seconds before they make any headway of getting into your apartment, not enough time for you to hide, but enough time to hide Marc’s parcel. After all, that’s what they are here for. With your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes scan over every nook and cranny of your apartment, quickly assessing each spot based on how likely the intruders are to find it and with the seconds dwindling into single digits, you make a snappy, slightly reckless decision. There’s a ledge just outside your kitchen window where you occasionally leave out some seeds for the birds and you think it’s just low enough that the parcel won’t be seen from the window. It’s risky but you’re running out of time, you have to move. 

Scrambling over counter tops and at the sacrifice of knocking over a few utensils, you manage to wrestle the window open and precariously place the box on the window ledge. It’s risky. The ledge isn’t wide and it’s windy, but whatever is in the parcel is just heavy enough that it stays rooted to the spot. 

Pulling back, your hand grazes the handle of a kitchen knife which, now that the intruders have made their way into your apartment, seems like a good idea to have. 

They round the corner into your living room and immediately start looking for the parcel, noticing you only a few seconds into their search. You point the knife in their direction standing courageously but your wavering breath tells a different story.

The three of them turn towards you from where they stand, and given their expressions, they are just as shocked to see you here than you are to see them. You weren’t supposed to be a variable in their plan. They were supposed to be burglarizing Marc’s empty apartment. Not yours. 

The two taller brown-haired men have similar features and builds, almost identical and you begin to wonder if they are twins. Brothers at the very least. But it’s the ageing stout man standing where the living room and kitchen divide who stares you down. He’s dressed smartly in a tweed suit with a golden pocket watch hanging from his waist coat, the type of man who doesn't like to get his hands dirty, because of course, that job belongs to the bulky twins behind him. This is a man who loves to watch it as it happens. He’s more business than manual labour. 

His facial features morph from shock to something sinister, his lips twisting into a smile that’s as greasy as the hair on his head as if the cruellest of ideas just crossed his mind. 

“I didn’t know Marc had a girlfriend,” he sneers. 

“He doesn’t,” you snarl, aiming the knife directly at him with two hands. “He doesn’t even live here either.”

“Oh, so his mail just gets delivered here on a daily basis?” The man hovers over to your coffee table and picks up multiple letters addressed to Marc, the ones that were delivered last week and remained there because of your stubborn nature. 

Okay, not off to a great start. “He doesn’t live here.”

He grins but it falls flat a split second later. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Now where is he?”

“I don’t know because he doesn’t live here.”

“Bullshit. Where. Is. He?”  

“Not here. I’m not afraid to use this knife.”

“Oh, not from there you won’t. Let me help you with that.” The man crosses the space between you in three long strides until you’re pressed flat against the counter and the point of the knife grazes the tip of his waist coat. The audacity of this man is staggering. “Save yourself the hassle and tell me where Marc is.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where he is! Now get the fuck out of my apartment. Whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.”

“And have you call the cops on us? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out to grab you, and he almost does, but with your quick reflex swinging the knife around, you knick the palm of his hand. The man stumbles backwards with a pained yelp, watching the blood seep from his hand and drip onto your kitchen tiles, enraged that you would even do such a thing. Despite your heart racing and the slightly dizzy feeling of adrenaline raging through your veins, you stand strong, holding the knife even higher in warning. 

“You bitch. Boys!” He shouts and the two brothers come running to his side, sizing you up. “Tie her up. We’re not leaving without that package and I’m certain she knows where it is.” 

It was easy enough to defend yourself against this puny man with a knife, but against two brutes who manhandle you as if you are lamb for slaughter, you don’t stand a chance. Relentless, you squirm and wriggle and fight to get out of their grasp, and while you had accepted that you were fighting a losing battle, there’s still some pride to be had about how hard you made it for them. Rather than tying you up unscathed, Thing 1 ties your hands with a bloody, swollen nose and Thing 2 ties your ankle with a forming black eye and a bruise developing on his ribs. 

With you strapped to the chair, they stuff a gag in your mouth to dim your screams while they scramble to ransack your apartment, turning it upside down to find the fucking parcel Marc left you with. After 15 minutes passes by, your home is a riot; furniture broken, plates, mugs and bowls smashed, everything you own on the floor. 

“Boss, it ain’t here. We’re searched everywhere.”

“It has to be!” The stout man shouts, eyes glaring at you enraged. He crouches down, fiery ageing eyes level with yours. He rips the gag out of your mouth and presents a new threat. A razor sharp knife, gleaning in the light as he holds it directly in front of your face. “For the last time. Where is the parcel?!” 

“I am telling you. I don’t know,” you spit, trying with all your might to sound as convincing as possible. “I don’t know what parcel you’re talking about. I don’t know where Marc is--I don’t even know the guy! And he sure as shit doesn’t live here. And if any of you had half a brain to actually read the letters will realise that his address is the floor above me. He never answers his fucking door and that’s why I have all his mess at my door.” 

The guy jabs the point of his knife underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards. A nauseous feeling stirs in your stomach, raising your body temperature and conjuring a little bead of sweat to drip from your hairline. Your teeth clamp down onto the inner lining of your cheek, hoping, praying, pleading for someone to burst through your door and save you.

You can’t see anything change within the man in front of you, not taking your word for gospel and the more frustrated he becomes, the more danger faces you. Temperament rising, the man grunts and knicks the skin of your chin, splicing the skin open. “Argh, fuck!” 

“Marc might not live here, but we know the parcel was delivered! And if you do end up with all his mail then it should be here. Now stop lying to me, you little bitch, and tell me where the fucking parcel is or you are going end up with a lot worse than a cut to your chin.” 

You watch in horror as he presses the edge of the knife over your wrist tied to the armrest of the chair and no amount of squirming can break the ties. Fuck, please tell me that I’m not going to lose a limb over a fucking parcel…

Tears pool in the corner of your eyes, your brave facade failing. You’re absolutely terrified

“I’ll give you some context then. That parcel contains something I want, an ancient Egyptian artefact that contains unimaginable power and would bring me a lot of wealth, and Marc Spector has no business taking it from me--” So that’s Marc’s surname. “And unless you want to keep your thieving hands, you’ll tell me where it is.” 

As he begins to press the knife’s sharp edge down onto your skin, you start to consider the depravity of the situation, the truth finding its way to your lips. There’s nothing more you want than for this to all be over, to be wrapped up warm and safe in your bed but you can’t shake the arrogance of this guy and his stooges, busting in here like he is entitled to, making a mess of your home, harming you, all to take something that was clearly meant for Marc, all because he thought it would be better with him than with Marc. 

No. Fuck that.

“I. Don’t. Know.” A glob of saliva gathers on your tongue and you spit it into the face of your capture, because if your words can’t send the message, hopefully that will. 

“You should believe her, by the way.” A voice emerges from behind you and simultaneously, all three men turn towards your front door in stupor. You try to twist your head over your shoulder as far as you can to catch a glance but he’s just out of your sight, however you don’t need to wait long before you get confirmation of who is standing at your door. 

“Marc Spector,” your captur states. “Finally.”

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in my neighbour’s apartment?”

“For the very same reason why you’re here, Marc. The parcel. Our parcel. The one you stole.” 

Marc snickers. Having gone so long without seeing what a smile looks like on his face, you’re itching to turn around and see him, but you only get as far as Thing 2 who stands with your back to you, blocking your view. “Torturing women for information? Tsk, tsk, that’s a little beneath your remit Donald, is it not? You’re wasting your time. I have the parcel locked up in storage.” An obvious lie, but not obvious enough to them. “She’s got nothing to do with it. In fact, I don’t even know her.” 

“I don’t care who I have to go through to get what is mine, whether it’s her or you, I will have it by the time the day is up. Boys!”

“Your mistake.”

In the space of a second, the three men in front of you disappear and you’re left to stare at the vast emptiness of your white walls as chaos erupts behind you. Grunts and groans of pain are spliced in between the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown, furniture breaking, bones crunching and bodies thumping to the ground, all of which you try to drown out by hunching your shoulders over your ears and closing your eyes. 

After suspenseful minutes of fighting, it’s clear one man stands victorious. Who? You don’t know. Aside from worrying about what kind of state of your apartment would be left in, you have no idea who you’ve been left in the apartment with and the likelihood of Marc succeeding against three men is slim and the anticipation is killing you.

At last, when a fully mummified figure with white glowing eyes kneels in front of you, you’re taken aback. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” His hand comes to tilt your head gently, inspecting the small cut to your chin with a small tut.

“...Marc?”

The mask that covers his face dissipates to reveal the Marc you recognise, looking more worried than you had ever thought he was capable of. He begins to make quick work of your bounds, easily ripping through them with a single fingertip where all the strength in your arms couldn’t. 

“What the…”

“It’s a lot to explain. I promise, I’ll explain later. Are you hurt? Are you alright? They didn’t do anything terrible to you, did they? Fuck. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry-”

“Marc, hey, I’m okay. Just a little shaken up I think.” Now free, you come to stand in front of Marc who, weirdly enough, seems to don this mummified Egyptian regalia as a suit of armour. You remember this ‘Donald’ guy mentioning something about an ancient Egyptian artefact and you assume it has to be related to whatever Marc is wearing. You even try to mention it, but you can’t seem to get a word in with Marc fussing over your safety and blaming himself for any harm that Donald and his men have caused you as he gently dabs the blood away from your chin. After futile attempts, you decide to leave it be, marvelling over the new Marc as he carefully handles you with care despite having treated you with such indifference up until a few minutes ago. 

Donald and his two bodyguards lie unconscious (...or dead?) on your apartment floor and you look over them with satisfaction, Marc’s unparalleled strength no match for them. Marc quietly lingers behind you, observing them over your shoulder with a similar resolve until he notices the complete disarray surrounding them. 

“Sorry about the mess.” 

You chuckle lightheartedly. “I’m just glad you came when you did. They got what they deserved.”

“Look,” he pulls you away from them to lock eyes, sincerity twinkling in his irises, “I really am sorry. I thought I was careful enough to not get anyone involved in my mess, but I guess I was wrong.” 

You crunch your eyebrows together, recollecting every instance of Marc giving you the cold shoulder. You always thought he was just an unfriendly neighbour, someone who had no interest in anyone but himself, who viewed everyone as an inconvenience. But it was his safeguard, his way of not letting anyone he knew or cared about come into harm. “So you being an asshole was on purpose?” 

“Completely. It was nothing personal.”

“I see,” you sigh, but with a gentle bump of shoulders, you add “I could’ve helped you, you know. You just needed to ask.” 

He shakes his head dejectedly. “It would’ve been too much of a risk.” 

“More of a risk than not asking me? I still got caught up in the crossfire anyway, if I had known why, or at least expected it, I could’ve been better prepared. I don’t need to know what trouble you got yourself into or what shady business you run, but I’m not just your neighbour, I could’ve been a friend if you had allowed me.” 

“It had never worked out for me in the past. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.” 

“Okay, I get it. You’re forgiven. But Marc? A word of advice for the future? Just answer your fucking mail then maybe, just maybe, I won’t need to be dragged into all of this again, yeah? They thought you lived here.” You pick up a handful of unopened letters addressed to him and bluntly shove them against his chest with an appointed look and smirk. 

He reciprocates the smile with less enthusiasm and turns his attention to your door. “Speaking of, I’ve got a very important parcel I need to track down. I actually have no idea where it is. I can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”

“About that.” You don’t say another word as you lead him to your kitchen window, awkwardly mounting your counter to reach for the parcel lying just outside your window. As soon as you bring it into view, Marc’s face lights up like you’ve never seen before. 

“You had it?! This whole time?! I heard you tell them you didn’t have it!” 

“I’ve had it for weeks, actually. Those clowns didn’t exactly take the quiet approach when breaking into my flat so I knew what they were here for. I just had enough time to hide it before they came in. And I can be quite the convincing liar when I need to be.” 

Marc quickly discards the parcel, throwing it onto the kitchen counter before throwing his arms around you, knocking the air out of you and squeezing tightly like his life depended on it. “You…are an angel. I can’t thank you enough.”

The two of you embrace for longer than what’s normal between two neighbours, partly in Marc’s resounding appreciation and partly because it feels nice. 

“In all honesty, I was two seconds from opening the parcel myself. The curiosity was killing me.” Marc’s laughter shakes his body, his warmth slowly leaving you as he draws back. 

“I can show you if you want. I figure you’ll be needing a place to stay while we get your apartment cleaned up. It’s the least I can offer for all the trouble I’ve put you through.” 

“Yeah. That would be nice.”