#moon system x you

[spicyllewyn]

Helping you with homework. (NSFW)

Moon system x reader. (+18) Headcanons.

SFW version here!

Steven.

God bless Steven Grant's heart.

Although you didn't enjoy asking for help with things like this, you knew your boyfriend was the right person for your history assignment.

Unfortunately, remembering dates was your kryptonite.

"I'll explain it to you, okay?" He put on his glasses, and you sighed.

How were you supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

You watched him go to his room and return with at least six different books in his arms.

And you pushed your chair so close that your shoulders touched.

It started well; you were understanding the timeline from prehistory to the Middle Ages.

However, you didn't take into account that once Steven started talking about his hyperfixations, he didn't stop.

By the second hour, you weren't sure if you were still retaining anything, so you did what your instinct dictated.

You slid down your chair and Steven didn't even notice.

Until after a few seconds when the words caught in his throat when he felt your hand on his baggy jeans.

"Love?" It came out strangled almost.

You were on your knees on the floor in front of him.

"Keep reading."

He obediently lifted his hips to let you lower his pants.

You collected a glob of saliva in your mouth before licking along his erection, he still had his underwear on.

The sudden chill from the damp cloth made him shiver.

"Th-Then, let's get into the topic of feudalism."

By the time you pulled his boxers down, Steven was so hard his cock snapped against his abdomen.

Poor baby Steven, he was so sensitive that the brush of the fabric of his sweater made him moan.

It gave him some relief.

“It was a set of…” a sigh. “Legal and military costumes in mediev-ah, fuck.”

You liked when he cursed.

Your tongue licked the length of him again, and Steven gave you more room by spreading his legs a little more.

“Medieval Europe.” He managed to say. “You remember we talked about i-it, huh, love? The beginning of…”

His head was already inside your mouth and Steven swore he could hear the force with which you were sucking.

“Of the medieval era.” You said after you pulled him out with a little 'pop' from your lips.

His fingers wrapped around yours, forcing you to hold him more firmly.

Steven almost sobbed when without warning you leaned forward.

You could feel it in your throat, but you didn't give him a break, instead you tapped his thigh twice inviting him to continue.

"Yes! Y-Yeah, yes, ahh-. T-The medieval era.” You couldn't see him but he already had his eyes closed. “It was between… Mhmm.”

Who was he trying to fool? He couldn't resist you.

And when he gave up, you made your move.

Bobbing your head up and down for him.

Slow, until his hand was placed on your head, pulling you down hard.

Your nose was brushing against his lower tummy.

And the gagging caused the muscles of your throat to squeeze harder for periods of seconds.

He didn't give you rest even when he came.

“J-Just like that, love.” His voice broke as his whole body shivered. “Swallow it. A-Ah-t-take it, it's all for you."

Steven wasn't that talkative in sex but… He always lost control when it came to you sucking him off.

And you obeyed, swallowing every last drop of his warm, delicious cum.

He remained with his back against the back of the chair with his eyes closed, his hand still in your hair.

She was breathing hard, her curls falling over her forehead.

And his cock was still twitching slightly.

The mere image was obscene.

"Love?" It cost him more than he would like to recover.

"Yes, Steven?"

"Why don't you take a nap while I finish this?"

Marc.

"I beg you." "No."

"Marc?" "No."

"Please?" "I said no."

You had been following him around the house for about 5 hours. Usually, you had no trouble completing your responsibilities from start to finish, but on days like today, you didn't even have the energy to turn on your laptop.

And Marc, of course, had already decided that there was no way he would help you with something like this.

In his school days, he didn't even do his own homework.

"Please, please, please." "I said no."

After begging for the 46th time, you finally gave up. The rest of the day passed just as boringly until dinner when you took the last sip of coffee from your cup.

"I'm not going to do it." After a week of constant sleep deprivation, you decided that you could afford to sleep for 8 hours just this once.

Marc looked at you in silence for a few seconds before nodding his head.

"Let's go to sleep then."

You obeyed, and you both went hand in hand to bed. Like every night, you felt him press you against his body with both arms.

The exhaustion in your body made you give in in less than 10 minutes.

But Marc couldn't sleep.

At 12:27 in the morning, he quietly got out of bed.

And at 01:53, you woke up. The fear of not feeling your daily companion almost made you cry like a little kid.

You got up to look for him, and it wasn't difficult at all. The light from your laptop illuminated the entire dining room.

And the sound of the keys echoed through the house.

"Marc?" "No," he replied again. Admitting such gestures was not his strong suit.

Still, he pushed the chair back to give you space, and you dragged your feet to sit on his lap.

You sat in front of the laptop and he continued typing with his arms at the sides of your body.

The least you could do was accompany him while he worked for you.

That and make sure he didn't make any mistakes.

You settled in a little jump on his lap.

And he had to take a breath.

Foolish of him not to assume you had noticed.

Another movement of your hips.

"Why don't you go sleep while I finish this?" His hoarse voice gave you a chill.

"I do not want to be alone." And it was not a lie.

With the tips of your feet you used the ground to have more control and you slowly moved again on top of him.

He growled, though you didn't know if it annoyed him to be distracted or because he liked it.

maybe both.

One hand gripped your hip, his fingers making sure you weren't able to move.

Sometimes you forgot the strength your boyfriend possessed.

"Stay." He ordered, his chin resting on your shoulder so he could see the screen.

And you, of course, with a PhD in testing Marc Spector's patience, did not comply.

You pushed yourself down, your ass pressing against his half-hardened cock.

“Shit, sweetheart.” He breathed heavily in your ear and you leaned your back against his chest.

Before you could know it, you were at his mercy.

He left the keyboard of the laptop and his two hands were placed on your hips. You knew his fingers would leave a mark, they always did.

But you didn't stop him when he began to guide your movements on top of his still clothed cock.

"You can't wait a few minutes, huh?" When your legs were on top of his, he separated them without having to use his hands.

His free hand positioned between your legs.

Every move you made on him resulted in more friction for you.

“Marc, Marc, Marc.” Your breathy voice filled the room.

He was pushing up like he was thrusting into you.

The rubbing of your clothes together began to emit heat because of the speed with which you pretended to ride him.

You both looked like teenagers with little time.

“You are going to make me cum on my fucking pants.” He growled against your neck as he nibbled at it to his liking.

Was he complaining or was it a compliment to you?

Anyway, you knew it was over when both of his hands forced you down as he emptied every last drop onto his clothes.

Your breaths echoed, unrhythmic and agitated.

"Go to sleep." He forced you to stand up. And you turned to enjoy the view. Post-orgasm Marc was always something worth admiring.

His glossy lips and red cheeks made you smile. And without meaning to, he smiled back, running a hand through his hair to push the curls away from his face.

"I'll go to bed when this is over."

Jake.

Spanish was never your strong suit.

And you knew very well that Jake was the one who could help you, but once you asked him, you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you.

He, on the other hand, was an expert in both things: speaking fluent Spanish and teasing you.

"Jake?" "Yes, honey?" "Can I ask you something?"

And as you suspected, he didn't leave you alone all day.

He started with innocent things, pointing to his fork and asking you. "What's this called, love?"

He even sounded like the host of a kid's show at some moments.

But when you lost your temper, Jake did too.

You stopped responding to him and playing along.

Bad idea. If your boyfriend was sure of one thing, it's that a day later you'd be crying in his arms for failing the exam, so he did what any responsible boyfriend would do.

"M-More." You said with a broken voice.

His cock was thrusting deeply into you.

His right hand smacked against your cheek.

It burned deliciously. And it was probably the fifth you received.

"¡Más!" You complained as you corrected yourself while your fingers clung to the bed.

You would have time later to scold him because the mattress was creaking as if he wanted to give up.

"Buena chica." (Good girl.) You wanted to beat the mocking smile out of him.

Even more so when he went back to the slow pace after a few seconds.

Turns out Jake had been in this game for about 40 minutes where he was fucking you to the limit and then suddenly stopping.

You wanted to burst into tears of frustration, but were you going to lie and say you weren't enjoying it?

"Más duro." (Harder.)

His own game played against him when you whispered between moans with your eyes locked on his.

For a moment you thought you had earned another slap, but instead, his hand went around your neck. You knew when he moved faster than you too you were pushing him to the limit.

Even under his body, with his hand forcing you to stay against the mattress, you managed to take control of things away from Jake just by batting your eyelashes for him.

"Más d-duro." You repeated with a broken voice.

And he obeyed.

You were so close

So close.

"Jake, please." Another slap. "¡Por favor! ¡Por favor!"

Your pleas were the straw that broke the camel's back.

"¿D-Dónde lo quieres, huh, a-ah, mierda-, princesa?" (Where do you want it, huh, princesa?) "M-mhm, dentro." (Inside.) And he was so lost in your body expressing the pleasure you felt in so many different ways that he didn't even notice the mistake in your response.

He filled you up.

And then pushed his spend deeper with some more thrusts.

You expected him to come out right away, you both deserved a break.

Instead, he slowly moved his hip again, making you whimper.

“We still have a lot to practice.” It didn't take long for your breathing to change, you weren't even sure you could walk to school tomorrow.

Needless to say, you received an amazing grade for the cheap price of spending those two hours with your cheeks flushing red every time you read certain words.

[m00nsbaby]

Your camera roll as Steven Grant’s girlfriend.

(And the person Marc Spector secretly loves tolerates)

Inspired by; Already over.

[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

[multific]

The Handsome Museum Tour Guide

Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: Steven is the new tour guide at your favourite museum.

You were someone who had always been fascinated by history and art. 

You didn't know that your fascination will be the reason you find the love of your life.

But it was exactly what led you to him.

You decided to spend your Saturday afternoon exploring the local museum, hoping to learn something new and maybe even find some inspiration for your own creative endeavours. 

This is what led you to love.

As you wandered through the halls, admiring the ancient artefacts and intricate paintings, you couldn't help but notice the charming tour guide named Steven. 

His passion for the museum's collection, specifically the Egyptian one, was evident in the way he spoke about each piece with such enthusiasm and knowledge. 

His accent was another thing you were quick to note.

You found herself hanging on his every word, captivated by his intelligence and wit as he continued to explain everything about mummification.

Steven noticed you too, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and admiration as you followed him from room to room. 

He couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious energy and genuine interest in the museum's treasures. As you chatted between stops, you discovered a shared love for art and history, sparking a connection that felt like fate.

As the tour came to an end, Steven couldn't resist asking you if you would like to grab a coffee with him after your museum visit. 

You eagerly agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the opportunity of getting to know him better outside of the museum's walls. 

You spent hours talking and laughing, realizing you had found something special in each other.

Days turned into weeks, and yours and Steven's relationship blossomed into something beautiful and meaningful. 

Your love story was like a work of art, filled with unexpected twists and turns that only added to its beauty.

Much like the sarcophagus Steven adored so much.

In the end, you and Steven knew that you had found something rare and precious in each other, a love that was as timeless and enduring as the museum's collection. 

And as you walked hand in hand through the halls, surrounded by the echoes of the past and the promise of the future, you knew that your love story was only just beginning.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum

@asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[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)

[jayke0]

Sorry, Love

Summary: You and Steven had discussed the idea of somno, but never actually gotten round to doing it... until now.

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Rating: 18+ obvs, nsfw

Warnings/content: somno, desperate and pervy Steven, male masturbation, humping, mentions of using/being used, rubbing pussy with cock (idk what that's called), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie.

.................................

The idea of touching you in your sleep seemed somewhat alien to Steven. He couldn't grasp the thought that you'd want to be touched by him when you aren't even able to feel the pleasure yourself. However, the more he tossed the thought around in his head, the more excited he'd become with it. Of course, you explained the ins and outs of it to him (literally), and it's not like he's a novice at reading the signs from your body... hell, he's probably better at it than you on some occasions.

One night, after a considerable serving of vegan lasagna, you fall asleep on the couch with your head resting in Steven's lap, and that's when he's reminded of your conversation. His cock stirs under your head while he gently plays with your hair, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in hesitation. Carefully, his hand glides over his joggers and grips the outline of his cock to squeeze lightly and get himself hard; which isn't difficult. His other fingers trace your facial features, feather light touches contrasting with the grip he has around his buldge.

She's so pretty when she sleeps. He thinks to himself, a soft pant leaving his lips as he simultaneously runs his thumb over your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Sliding his hand into his joggers, he pulls his cock out finally and gives himself a few harsh tugs. Your face is just centimetres away from his cock while he pumps his fist around himself, staring at your beautiful features. His thumb swipes over the tip again and that's when he lets out a soft moan of your name, his teeth latching onto his bottom lip in an attempt to not wake you with his noises.

It feels really good doing this, perversely good, he continues to think to himself, she has no bloody idea, not a clue in the world-

His hand starts moving faster, the intervals in which he teases the tip of his cock now becoming shorter.

I wanna cum all over her face- shit- I'm gonna cum on her.

His chest heaves, and just as quickly as he'd gotten hard, he cums over his hand and your face with strained moans, making sure to get it on your lips. The sight in itself would be enough to make him hard again, but he doesn't want to push his luck, or run the risk of freaking you out.

A few days later, he divulges what he did to your face, and much to his surprise (even after the discussion about it), you're not mad at him.

"Steven, i told you that it's ok, it's... hot" you say, chuckling a little bit as you finish your pancakes he'd lovingly made for you.

"God, are you sure? Please tell me if it made you uncomfortable, i mean yeah it was a good wank but i wouldn't want it to be at the expense of your comfor-"

"Steven! Shut up" you say as your hands land on his face, stroking his cheeks with your fingers which soothes him, "i like it, ok?"

"Right- yeah of course, sorry, Love." Steven presses his nose into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch.

"You can do more than that, too" you add and gently move your hands down his toned arms to his hands, which are still fidgetting in his lap "i wouldn't mind it if you wanted to touch me, y'know, in all the places you like." You bring his hands up to touch your chest while your eyes linger on his, the gesture making his body falter and his shoulders drop a little in submission.

"You know how to touch me, Steven, so do it, use me."

Those words make steven visibly shiver, you always know how to loosen him up and get him comfortable, and that's one of the things he loves the most about you.

Even so, after a week of waiting, Steven still hasn't taken the opportunity to indulge in his fantasies... even after multiple occasions where you've made yourself fall asleep before him with nothing but a baggy t-shirt on in hopes you'd wake up with his cock burried inside you.

As you get ready for bed and pull that same old baggy shirt on, you notice something is up with steven, almost like he's feeling on edge or ansty; but you know that look, the way his eyes rake over your body and his tongue laps at his lips, he wants you, and bad.

You take that as an opportunity as your tummy fills with butterflies; maybe if you leave him like this, he'll finally act on his impulses and fuck you awake, so that's exactly what you do. Walking right past him, you get into bed and snuggle under the sheets, though the way your body is already reacting with excitement makes it hard for you to drift off, but eventually you do.

Many thoughts roam around Steven's psyche, ranging from she wants this, she's told me she's ok with it, to oh god what if she doesn't though and i misinterpreted it. Despite his doubts, however, the urge has grown too strong, and once he carefully removes the covers from your body, he's reassured by the position you've chosen to fall asleep in.

With no underwear on and your right leg coming up to your belly, your ass is perfectly exposed to him, and he can see the way your slick glistens in the dim light of the moon. The sight makes his half hard cock twitch in his joggers, and slowly he crawls over to you, wrapping his whole body around you.

Now usually, that'd be the perfect position for steven to fall asleep in, because loves cuddling you more than anything in the world, but the way he can feel your ass pressing against his crotch makes that difficult for him. His breathing becomes laboured as he starts tentatively rolling his hips against you, the fabric rubbing against the tip of his cock in a way that he knows will stain them with his precum, but that's the last thing he cares about right now. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, and if you were awake you'd be able to feel his muscles constricting you in the best way, holding you in place while he uses you to get off.

His forehead rests on the back of your head, his fingers sliding over your skin and up to your chest where you cups one of your boobs; admittedly one of his favourite parts of your body. He circles your nipples with his index finger in the way that's been proven to work on you in the past, and even now, as your brain sleeps, your body pushes back on him, rocking your hips in time with his.

That gesture simply urges Steven on, and his worries soon melt away, leaving him with pure desire to use your body. His face burries in your neck before he starts talking quietly to himself... and maybe you, or at least your sleeping brain.

"Shit love, you have no idea how much i love this," he reaches down and takes his cock out of his joggers, sliding it between your thighs thanks to your arousal from just thinking about this scenario earlier. "Seems like you like it too... this what you wanted? Is this why you've been wearing nothing but this cute shirt?" He pants softly and his hips rock a little less haphazardly now, fucking your thighs like he does with your cunt. "God i wanna do this to you every night" he groans "i know how deep you sleep... wonder if you'd even wake up if i put it inside you.." he thinks outloud.

You stir a little, but not enough to wake, so Steven continues what he's doing and holds his cock to your hole "i wanna fuck you awake, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper as he pushes in carefully but surprisingly easily "bloody hell, you really do like this, don't you?"

He pulls out slowly and pauses for a second before thrusting back into you again...

..And that's when you wake up.

Steven's whole body freezes against you when you tilt your head towards him, fear gripping his nerves as if he'd been caught robbing a bank.

"Fucking hell baby, finally" you groan sleepily to him, the tone of your voice a mixture of lust and sleepiness. "Been waiting for you to fuck me awake all week, Steven." You gaze at him with passion while your hand wraps around his wrist "keep fucking me baby, please."

That's all Steven needs before he starts thrusting into you again, his hips setting a desperate and fast pace as if he'd been holding back just for you. "Been wanting to fuck you like this all week, love" he mumbles, though it's more of a whimper "it's all I've been able to.. to think about." His groans are loud and breathy, so he buries his face in your neck in an attempt to hide it.

"You should've done it sooner-" your head rests back against his while moans fall from your own lips "I've touched myself thinking about this so many times baby" you add, which warrants a particularly loud moan from the man.

Sliding his hand down your tummy, he wiggles his fingers between your thighs to find that bundle of nerves, and when he does you buck your hips against his hand "fuck! Steven that's it- that's good.. shit you fuck me so well!-" Your grip becomes tighter on his wrist as your orgasm builds blindingly fast now; faster than you can tell him, but that's ok, he knows your body better than you.

"I can feel you, dove, please- ah- please cum for me, cum on my cock, darling-" it all comes out strained as steven holds back his own orgasm, his hips stuttering and holding on just long enough to feel you tighten around his cock. Your moans fill the room while your body convulses on him, his cock still mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm till you're shaking.

" 'm gonna cum love- shit!" Steven fills you with his arousal, your contracting cunt milking him fucking dry until he's twitching and whimpering with overstimulation.

You both stay still for a long time, calming down from your collective orgasms, and part of you wishes that you could just go back to sleep in his arms now.

Steven's the first to break the comfortable silence. "That really was great, darling" he mumbles softly with a yawn "are you ok?" He kisses your cheek and you turn to face him with a massive grin "more than ok, baby" you reply.

"Let's do that more often."

.

Tagging people: @red-hydra @steven-grants-world @automnepoet @the-king-87 @lokisremainingsanity @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[phantomspiderr]

Always

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: fluff, fluff, fluff, look i think Marc would be into Formula 1, is that just because I love F1... maybe?, sleepy!reader, soft!Marc🥰

a/n: 😬… I’m backkkkkkkk. Not that I think anyone noticed I was gone but I started anxiety meds and they've taken some getting used to. But I opened up my drafts the other day and found this and finished it, so essentially I started making it, had a breakdown... bon appetite?

(not my gif)

The other side of the bed’s cold, your hand swipes across the empty space in search of the warmth that is normally there. Your sleep-addled mind pauses to think—had your boyfriend even come to bed? What time was it? Is that noise in your head? Slowly, you pull yourself up from the warm cocoon of the duvet and your hands rub at your face in an attempt to erase the sleep that still clings to you. Blinking a few times you try to adjust your eyes to being open again as your hands fall into your lap. You can just make out some light in between the gaps in the bookshelf that separates the bed from the rest of the room. Your tired eyes look to his side of the bed again, still empty and the alarm clock shines the time a little too brightly, 6:22am. Reluctantly you move your stiff legs, pushing the warm duvet off of them and whining a little as the cold air in the flat hits them. You pull yourself out of the bed, immediately grabbing the blanket from the end of the mattress to wrap around yourself. The noise you’d heard becomes clearer now, it sounds like someone talking but it’s fast and all mushes together in your head. You take steps toward it, rounding the bookshelf to find exactly what you were missing.

“Hey,” Marc’s voice comes out in a whisper and he sits up the second his eyes clock you, his hand reaching for the tv remote immediately. The volume goes down with each push of the button, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You keep taking slow steps towards him, passing in front of the tv and going around the coffee table until you reach the couch.

“Are you okay?” You completely disregard his question in favour of asking your own as you sit next to him, he nods whispering out a yeah and so you move your body to lay down, placing your head in his lap.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” you look up at him as he speaks. One of his hands comes to rest on top of your head, “plus there’s a race on.” He looks back to the tv and you follow his gaze, twisting until you lie completely on your side.

“What’s a red flag?” Your head turns so you can look at him again briefly, a little smile graces his face and then you go back to staring at the screen, trying to understand why in the middle of a race none of the cars are moving.

“One of the drivers went into the barrier and they have to stop the race to clean it up before they continue. It just means it’s not safe for anyone to be on the track,” Marc explains it so gently, no annoyance or condescension crosses his tone for your lack of knowing.

“Are they okay?” There’s a slight hint of worry and you almost sound like a scared child.

“Yeah sweetheart, look, that's Albon there.” He points towards the screen and you watch as it briefly shows a young-looking guy speaking with someone else, “it was his car that hit the barrier but he got out of it straight away.”

For a minute it’s quiet, you both just watch the screen as it shows different people. Marc had turned the volume up a bit and you could make out what the commentators were saying now they’d slowed down their talking. Without any prompting, Marc starts to quietly tell you who everyone is every time the picture changes to someone new. He shares little pieces of knowledge with every name and you find listening to him soothing. You knew he sometimes watched these races but you’d never really taken the time to sit down and watch one with him. You’re starting to regret never doing it before, you’d been missing out on this beautiful opportunity to get to know his interests better.

Ultimately, though that tiredness still clings to your mind and the way his voice is quietly lulling you makes you think of the times when Steven reads you to sleep. Just as the race starts up again, your eyes begin to feel heavy, the blinks start getting slower and longer. You’re unsure if Marc’s noticed because he keeps calmly explaining what’s happening as it happens. His fingers had absentmindedly started rubbing circles into your scalp which was not helping the way you were quickly slipping back into your sleeping state. The tv eventually disappears, and your eyes are finally sealed shut again but some conscious part of your brain can still make out the race commentary in the background alongside Marc’s soothing voice.

The next thing you know it’s daylight, the sun shines brightly through the uncovered windows. It hurts your eyes when they open and instinctively you turn your body away from it, glad when you’re met with darkness. You comfortably bury your face into the warmth of Marc’s stomach while trying your best to stretch your stiff limbs without really putting much effort into it. You take in a deep breath before just relaxing for a moment. Your mind slowly wakes as you lay there, coherent thoughts begin to form and you start to feel more awake with each passing second. You could’ve sworn you’d only been asleep for a few minutes. The tv is still making quiet noise in the background and you can feel Marc taking slow deep breaths.

Once your brain has managed to come back to some semblance of consciousness, you slowly pull yourself to sit up on the couch. The sight you’re met with makes your heart melt it doesn’t matter how many times you wake up next to him, each time feels like the first. He looks so peaceful, his head propped on his fist that leans on the arm of the couch. Eyes closed, hair sticking around every which way and lips slightly parted. You admire him for a minute before you think about how much his neck is going to hurt after sleeping in this position. As slowly as you can you twist yourself around again and stand, taking a second for your brain to catch up with your body’s movements. Then gently you tuck your hands under his knees, pulling on the deadweight and turning them to rest on the couch. All the movement rouses Marc from his sleep, the top half of his body reluctantly following the bottom with a grumble.

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Quietly you shush him as he continues to wiggle around until he’s settled down on the couch where you were just laying. The crease in his eyebrow slowly relaxes as your fingers comb through his hair, you’re crouched next to him trying to push him back into his little slumber. A long sigh comes from deep within his chest and you just know he’s back in dreamland. With a gentle kiss to his temple, you stand again, grabbing the blanket that had fallen to the floor at some point and draping it over his body. Satisfied with how much more comfortable he looks now you go to pull yourself away to shower and maybe start on breakfast—or maybe brunch at this point, but a hand grazes your leg.

“Stay,” the mumble of a plea falls past his lips as his hand blindly searches for yours. Without a second thought, you give in, encouraging him to lift his head so you can slip back onto the couch. Thoughts of how good a shower would be right now or of what to cook to rid the rumble in your stomach disappear completely. Now you sit with Marc’s head in your lap, mirroring the exact position you’d both been in just moments prior. You take a long moment to just watch him, the way he nuzzles his head into your thighs and how relaxed he looks for a change. Then you’re thinking about how happy he makes you. How lucky you feel to be a part of this moment and how you only ever want to be right here with him, always.

[outey-spacey]

Steven Grant Core

[jake-g-lockley]

City Lights (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: mentions of Donna, Steven is too cute in this, I will swoon to death for that man A/N: So there was this boy, the best memories make the sharpest swords but I would like to turn any happy memory I have into something that you guys can enjoy. I love y'all <3 (P.s. Whatchu think of the lil collage I made ehehhehe)

Word Count: 1.4k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as you stared longingly at the tall man in mismatched clothes who  stood hunched before a crying child. He kept a respectful distance but let the child cling onto his hand as the little boy sobbed for his mother. Steven Grant, the gift shoppist, produced a tiny plushie of Taweret from behind him. The hippo goddess seemed to bring the child a little peace as he started to sniff and rub his nose with the back of his hand. 

Steven tousled the child’s hair and started to tell him something. You didn’t need to hear what Steven was saying to know what he was telling the kid. As he knelt in front of the child, you were 100% sure he was telling him the story of the goddess Taweret as his hands started moving in animation. 

You averted your eyes just as you saw the kid’s mother hurrying towards him. Any longer and you would’ve either had two exploded ovaries or worse, you could’ve started drooling like a Saint Bernard all over the perfect polished floors of the museum. A few seconds later, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turn to see big tired eyes boring into yours, perfectly glinting in the dim lighting. You couldn’t help but smile at them, forcing yourself to tear your own away from them before you get lost in the deep chocolate goodness. “Hey.” the British drawl wrapped around you like a warm blanket. “Hey.” you smiled, blinking up at him. “So, uh, we're still up for dinner today love, or…?” Steven scratched the back of his neck as he leaned towards you, a timid smile gracing his beautiful face. “Of course, Steven.” you quickly say as your hand pats his strangely strong bicep. Steven’s timid smile grew suddenly confident as he flashed you his pearly whites, and you were sure that you might just topple over from the force of it. Instead you give him a big smile back and squeeze his bicep, taking a step away. You guys were not going on a date, it was just the ordinary weekly dinner you had scheduled with Steven. You certainly didn’t look forward to the day, that's certainly why you didn’t check your phone about a hundred times to see what day it was over the past week. Your dinners with Steven were the best, it was so wonderful yet took so little effort. You both had found a little pizzeria down the road from the museum and it sold the most wonderful handcrafted pizza and had a great selection of wine (you were definitely a cocktail girl but you loved stealing wine from Steven). You gazed at the glow of the city lights as Steven chatted away about the stock issue that they were having in the museum. “I keep telling Donna that we don’t need to keep ordering the stupid sweets because the kids don’t actually like spending their penny on overpriced museum sweets anymore…love, am I boring you?” Steven suddenly said. You swore you turned bright red at his statement as you ripped your gaze away from the lights. “Steven! No, you’re not, I just got distracted. The lights, look! They look like fairy dust and everything seems so calm today.” You blabbered away and watch as a smile grew on Steven’s face. You frowned at Steven’s wine that he was swirling in his right hand. You bit your lip and when you looked back up at Steven’s face, you realised that he was already looking at you, his smile turning into a smug smirk. “I know you’re gonna ask for it, no matter how much you hate it.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You huff and reach out for the glass before bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip. Your eyes widened and Steven’s smirk became more pronounced. The wine you sipped tasted like no other. You had never tasted anything that went down so smooth before and you were weirdly delighted by it. “I asked for the more expensive kind today.” Steven said while he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms and legs. “What's the occasion?” you asked curiously, raising your eyebrows as you carefully set the glass down on the table. “You’re right, today does seem a little more special.” Steven’s voice dropped an octave lower as his eyes now stared at the lights you were looking at moments ago. You rested your chin on the palms of your hands and stared longingly at Steven’s jaw and exposed neck. You wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning with your face in his neck, breathing in his familiar comforting scent, legs entangled, your hands brushing his soft fluffy curls. You long to press soft kisses on his sharp jaw, you long to see marks blossom on the nape of his beautiful neck, but most importantly, you longed for his presence. 

As the night progressed, you too ordered a glass of wine as you didn’t want to keep stealing Steven’s. Your head was swimming happily and you had no thoughts or worries, the only thing running through your brain was how pretty the man in front of you was. You were intoxicated with how the light in the restaurant casted a glow on Steven that made him more ethereal than usual. You never knew how pretty someone could look like but you also knew that his kindness was the prettiest part of him. He was the most genuine person you knew and you were positive that he did not have a bad bone in his body. His heart was so pure that you just wanted to hold it, protect it. But Steven Grant was so perfect that he healed something of yours that he never broke. Now Steven and you were walking along the river Thames and trying not to giggle as you helped to steady each other. “Can’t believe you paid the bill when I thought you ran off to the bathroom.” You gently slapped his bicep and hiccuped. “I am a gentleman.” Steven tilted his chin up with a huff which made you giggle. Now what you didn’t notice was how hard Steven was straining to not kiss you silly as he watched you hang onto him like a baby koala. He had always wanted to kiss you, your beautiful smile the first thing that pops up in his head in the morning since the day that he met you. He tried to listen as you babbled away about your friend’s boyfriend issues but he was just intoxicated by the animated way your hands would move as you talked away without a fear of the world. Not too long later, you slumped on a bench and pulled Steven down with you. A strong breeze huffed through the air, which made you shiver and shift closer to Steven, which he didn’t mind. You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, his face illuminated by the city lights and you thought he looked nothing more than an angel in disguise. In a moment of uninhibited courage, you suddenly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Steven's lips, your heart pounding with both excitement and fear. To your surprise, Steven's response was not one of shock or hesitation, but of eager reciprocation, as he pulled you closer with a tenderness that took your breath away as you gasped into his mouth. His lips were so soft and you could taste the pizza and wine you just had as your hand rested and caressed his jaw. You pulled away and smiled the second Steven’s face came into view. He had a dopey smile on his face that made your heart skip a few beats as you searched his eyes. 

"What took us so long to do that?" you whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from his.

"Wanted to wait for the right time, my love" Steven murmured, his voice soft and tender as he rested his forehead against yours.

In that moment, amidst the quiet of the night and the wine-induced haze, you knew that kissing Steven was definitely the best decision you had ever made in your life. You sighed and kissed Steven’s cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder, admiring the city lights that blossomed along with your love for him. 

Tagging:

@fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @violet-19999 @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @britishscum @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @anonymously35 @nerdreader @vintagebunni @marylovesdilfs @jakelockleysdoll @pigeonmama @sarveshishwarishsuta

[ivystoryweaver]

This is the Masterlist for my story "With You"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9a Part 9b Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16: Conclusion

My Masterlist

Read the standalone sequel Still With You

Pairing: Established relationship. Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley x gn!reader. Reader is engaged to Marc/Steven. Jake is new. So elements of slow burn/idiots in love. No use of y/n

Summary: Your fiancé is 2 years sober, so what could have possibly upset him enough to challenge that? (It's Khonshu and Jake). A look at how the system learns about continued servitude to Khonshu and a new alter, with you - their fiancé(e) - by their side

Overall fic content/warnings: Angst, drinking, alcoholism/addiction, hangover, cursing, hurt/comfort, references to past abuse, longing, feeling inadequate, some banter/bickering, mentions of food, domestic fluff, slice of life, nightmare, crying, romance, violence, injury, blood, implied sex, some sex but the language remains vague and gn - more erotic than explicit, not beta'd

Immersibility: Reader is gn, is somewhat shorter than Marc/Steven/Jake and able to wear their clothes around the house

[spicyllewyn]

Roleplaying with them.

(NSFW) Headcanons. - Moon system x reader. (+18)

Marc.

You had been feeling observed for about 15 minutes during your walk.

You were heading back home, as usual, too late for your own safety.

Nothing had happened to you so far, so what could you lose?

It wasn't until the whitish glow behind you appeared, combined with the shadow from the ground, that your attention finally turned to your back.

A few days ago, you had seen more than one moon painted on the streets.

You weren't surprised to come across him.

"How long have you been there?" He didn't speak, just shrugged.

"I can see my house from here, your job is done."

When you turned around, you heard him clear his throat. "Don't people thank superheroes more?"

He was no longer wearing the mask. His tousled curls fell over his forehead, and the tight ceremonial suit of Khonshu allowed you to see every detail on his body.

"I thought they did it only out of love for their fellow beings."

Another step, and you felt your breath catch in your chest.

"Does anyone do things for free nowadays?"

He was right. And by the way his eyes wandered over your body, you didn't need to think much to guess what he was referring to.

His gaze was scorching you and you wanted to kiss his jaw until your lips hurt.

And you gave in, because who else was there to thank the masked vigilante who protected the nighttime travelers?

One step closer.

You were still in the middle of the deserted street, in plain sight of anyone who decided to take a nighttime stroll.

You didn't care much, not even when the cold concrete of the sidewalk made your knees ache.

His suit vanished in front of you, your eyes locked onto the pair of dark jeans that now filled your entire field of vision.

You licked on the fabric when you realized that he was already hard under his clothing.

And although the cold did not cause anything in him, your tongue did make him tremble.

A little more of force and you would have yanked the button off his jeans.

You were both clumsy, desperate.

Before you could object, the tip of his cock was pushing against your throat.

"Just like that, sweetie." And just when you thought her voice couldn't get any deeper.

Turns out, the terrifying Moon Knight was also a fan of encouraging his partners during sex.

He kept complimenting you, reminding you how well you were doing.

Although his moans spoke for him.

He had no compassion for you, when his hands were placed in your hair you knew you were no longer in control.

He rammed into your mouth with the brutality with which you had saw him punch people before.

You could only hear the gurgling of your saliva every time it slid down your tongue.

And your eyes filled up with tears as your nose bumped against the veil of his abdomen, you could feel him push you further.

Until you ran out of oxygen.

With two touches on his thigh he understood what you needed, finally letting go.

Your hand had to take care of the job, your saliva made it easier to stroke his already sensitive cock.

He looked at you, and you looked back at him.

"Thanks for taking care of me." Your smile was mocking, and Marc could only think about how cute your little face looked destroyed by him.

A chill ran through him from head to toe as the heat in his abdomen began to rise.

He was so close. "Just like that. Don't stop, -ah, fuck, please." His pleas confirmed the obvious to you.

You stuck out your tongue for him, and the mere image was too much for him.

It was obscene, he could see in you how much you wanted to swallow every drop he had to give you.

He came on your tongue. Actually, he came on your whole face.

And you squeezed anything that was left on him with your hand.

“Shit, I love you.” He said with a breathy, broken voice.

“Marc, don't get out of character!”

Steven.

"Sorry for the hour! Are there still tours available?" "Oh, Gods. You are just in time for the last one! But I'm afraid it will be just you and me, we're about to close."

At least this way you could ask anything that crossed your mind.

Steven was… dreamy.

You weren't the biggest fan of museums, but the guy was really doing his job for society.

You probably learned more there than in months of history classes.

And he made it so… enjoyable. So easy to understand, so much fun.

His eyes were shining as he spoke, and the 2-hour tour felt like 15 minutes.

"This is the least visited part of the museum." "Why?" "Many people are afraid of the ocean."

Both of you whispered, squinting your eyes to gaze at each other in the middle of the dark room.

A soft blue light gave the perfect tone to Steven's face as he looked at the exhibits as if it were the first time.

You leaned in to read the plaque in front of a representation of a shark skeleton.

And within seconds, a body positioned itself behind you. His chest against your back, one of his arms slid under yours, and he made you raise your hand.

His fingers guided yours to touch the fake skeleton.

"They don't have bones, you know?" A breathy moan escaped from his mouth when you pushed yourself towards him. "Oh no?" You played dumb. "It's, ah… gristle."

You tortured him by continuing to see the figure for extra seconds.

And when you turned around, Steven was on his knees

You smiled.

“I think it's my favorite room.” And in one jump you climbed onto a kind of high step that supported some other figures.

As if his lips had a magnet towards you, he began to kiss between your thighs.

Because of course, the first thing you did was spread your legs for him.

He kissed on top of the fabric until he got desperate.

You never thought that the shy museum guide in the baggy clothes would have the strength to pull your skinny jeans down in one fell swoop.

You've been wanting to mess up those soft curls ever since you laid eyes on him.

Right now, with his tongue working on you, it was the perfect opportunity.

"Oh shit." Your voice echoed through the empty room as you pushed him harder between your legs.

Steven refused to pull away for air, and you happily kept him between your legs.

He looked like a hungry man, you could feel his saliva running between your legs.

"Y-You do an amazing job." “Well, I always wanted to be a museum guide.” oh so innocent

"Steven!" It resounded so loudly in the room that you feared someone would discover you.

But not enough to shut you up.

It goes without saying that you finished sooner than expected, the adrenaline rush of being caught was always a fetish for you.

And when you looked down, you almost fainted.

His huge chocolate brown eyes were staring at you, barely parted enough for you to see his glossy lips full of you.

He had the expression of someone about to get into some mischief.

"No." "Yeah." "Steven, no." “How are you going to rate my good work in the suggestion and complaint box if I don't please you?”

Before you protested, his mouth was on you again.

2 orgasms were not enough for him.

Not even with 3, you lost count after 4, and he only stopped when your legs threatened to no longer support your weight.

You trembled, your vision was blurred and you couldn't bear the suffocating heat that you were feeling on your face.

“Did you like the tour?” He asked innocently as he adjusted your pants and finally faced you.

His face full of saliva and your fluids.

"You're awful at roleplay." "I know." He kissed you and you cleaned his mouth area with your tongue.

He looked at you with more wonder than at his favorite pieces in the museum.

"Let me take you to dinner, okay?"

Jake.

The honking of a car made you rush out of your house.

Your furrowed brow and your lips forming a pout gave you away as you got into the taxi.

Apparently, you were having a terrible day. You didn't even greet the driver as you got in.

"Bad day?" His accent did catch your attention. "Bad life." You replied with a nostalgic smile.

You could feel him looking at you constantly in the rearview mirror.

"Who would allow a beauty like you to get into a stranger's car at this hour?" "My fiancé is an idiot."

You made him scoff.

"I bet I can make you forget about him in seconds." "Seconds is quite ambitious."

He winked at you.

And you felt butterflies in your stomach.

The teasing way you turned your back on him made Jake accept the challenge.

Only God knows where he parked the car; you had never been in this part of the city before.

Him talking about seconds wasn't him being ambitious.

It was him being realistic.

Because before you could react you had the words stuck in your throat because his cock was deeply buried in you.

You were turning your back on him once again, this time by his choice.

You swore you could hear the screeching of the car with every movement of his hip.

"Does he fuck you like this, cariño?" He growled in your ear.

His questions made you dizzy, his thick accent and his hot breath hitting your ear.

"I bet he's never made you moan like that before." “Aw, look at you, honey. All cock-drunk and whiney.” "Pídeme m��s, amor, pídeme que te destroce."

You were staining the leather seat with saliva.

And Jake would pull on your hair to try and lift your face up a bit.

He didn't want you to keep quieting your whining like that, you knew it.

"More." It came out broken from your lips.

And he complied.

You could never think of another man like that, although to be fair, you didn't mean to.

“That fucking death-grip.” And while Jake seemed in control, he wasn't immune to your tricks, your way of taking the bull by the horns. “Amor, no, please, no… You are going to…”

He came inside of you.

And you shivered, keeping him inside.

"Look at that, cielo." After a few seconds, he pulled out, staring. “Do you think he will take you back now that I marked you as mine like this?”

And you made him laugh by cursing him out loud.

"Amor?" "Uh?" "You're going to clean that up." He poked you on the nose. Your cheek felt wet against the seat, your saliva making you groan.

[m00nsbaby]

Falling asleep on their shoulders.

A bunch of headcanons about how would they feel. :) (Moon system x reader.) Steven.

In a million years, he would never have accepted a work outing when he could be in his comfortable apartment with Gus, reading a new book.

Until he found out that you would be going.

He never imagined that an amusement park could be so much fun. He had never been to one before.

Or maybe he had, but he doesn't remember.

You separated from the group as soon as you arrived. Steven thought he would like to be as carefree as you when you took his hand and walked without a trace of nervousness or fear.

You talked all day, about anything and everything.

"You're very interesting, Steven." It was probably the sweetest thing he had ever heard. His blush made you feel satisfied.

For the rest of the day, you made sure he knew you were interested in him.

You also mentally noted how his lips brushed against your fingers when you offered him some of your cotton candy.

You held hands again when you rode the tallest roller coaster in the park.

Oh, and you kept the photograph.

"Shall we go see the Aqualoop?" "See it or...?" "Get splashed, I mean." He couldn't say no. Both of you were like a pair of children enjoying the day.

Adult life hadn't given you the chance to enjoy yourselves like this in a long time.

Both of you closed your eyes tightly as the water splashed over you, drenching you from head to toe. You both laughed until your stomach hurt, and Steven brushed a wet strand of hair from your face.

Having him so close made your heart skip a beat.

You spent the rest of the day dripping wet, enjoying the sun on your skin and the warm air drying your hair.

You shared food as the evening approached, and you discovered that vegan food was much better than you had imagined, while Steven ate half of your french fries.

As the park was about to close, you met up with the others at the exit.

Both of you insisted on declining the ride J.B. offered, as your clothes were still wet.

After 20 long minutes of arguing, you accepted on behalf of yourself and Steven.

Or Scotty, as J.B. had called him, making you struggle to hold back your laughter.

The space in the back seat was limited, and your body was squeezed between Steven and the car door, but you couldn't say you were uncomfortable.

His body emitted a delightful warmth.

A yawn escaped you.

"Are you tired?" Steven's whisper near you broke the complete silence in the car.

You silently nodded, rubbing one of your eyes with your hand.

If only he had the courage to tell you how adorable he thought you were.

Minutes of silence passed, your breathing became slower and heavier, and your head gradually leaned to the side as you began to fall asleep.

And it happened. Your cheek ended up against Steven's shoulder.

He almost vomited from excitement, not exaggerating. Needless to say, he was the type of person who simply assumed he would die of natural causes before moving or telling you that his shoulder had become tired.

After a few minutes, you shifted, slipping an arm underneath his and intertwining your fingers together, returning to your place on his shoulder after.

He allowed himself to finally smile.

And the hours it took him to gather the courage finally culminated in the best part of the night. He leaned in enough to kiss your forehead.

You smiled too, without opening your eyes.

Marc.

One day, you had to explode, and he knew it.

His plans were always thwarted because Khonshu interfered with his sudden missions that not only meant pausing whatever you were doing, but also meant that Marc would disappear completely from the radar for God knows how many days.

It was strange when he returned, too. It took him days to return to normal, if you were lucky enough he would tell you what had happened, only partially.

"It's always the same!" You finally screamed at your breaking point. Tears overflowed from your eyes as you quickly packed your clothes into your suitcase. You didn't care if the clothes became even more wrinkled.

"You knew it would be like this, I told you." Marc had the migraine of the century.

You shouted at each other for a while, and the maid looked at you as if you were crazy.

To be fair, you sounded like it.

The argument came to a close when Marc went too far with his words. You didn't argue often, but when you did, it always ended like this.

You cried the whole way to the bus station. And you almost started another argument when you pushed your boyfriend's hand away to prevent him from grabbing your suitcase.

If only he had the strength to set aside his pride for once, he would have apologized the moment the tip of your nose turned red.

You wished you could switch places with a stranger to avoid hours of travel with him.

But it didn't happen.

You felt like the thousand times you cried yourself to exhaustion as a child. You even let out a yawn within the first 15 minutes of the trip.

It didn't take long for you to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion, thinking that sleeping would make time pass faster and you would be away from him sooner.

He was so focused on avoiding your gaze by looking out the window that he didn't even notice when you fell asleep.

Until your head landed on his shoulder with a sudden turn in the road.

Marc's body tensed. He was too stubborn to give in instantly, but at the same time, he was too in love to push you away.

He looked at you, and his chest tightened.

You looked so vulnerable. So tender and small. How could he hurt you if he loved you so much?

Unbeknownst to him, a barely noticeable pout formed on his lower lip.

"I love you," he whispered, more to himself than to you. He was almost consoling himself in the pain of having to carry the regret of his words.

"I love you with all my heart," he repeated.

It was futile, you were deeply asleep.

He made his decision and closed his eyes, leaning his head against yours to find comfort.

He would sleep by your side, feeling the warmth of your body, and when you woke up, he would apologize to you as many times as necessary.

Even if it meant having to make it up to you with other vacations.

Jake.

You never exchanged words unless it was necessary.

You knew his name, he knew yours, and that you were good at fighting together. Unfortunately, you didn't have a "magical" suit to help with that.

You stared out the window, suppressing the urge to moan in pain every time the taxi jolted on the road. You had survived worse things than a twisted ankle and a possible broken rib.

Jake didn't look at you, only when he heard you hiss or take a deep breath because of the discomfort you were in.

"We're close to the hotel," he reassured you, even though it was a lie. You were in the middle of nowhere, trusting that the driver had the correct directions.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against the cold window.

Five more minutes passed, and there were no signs of life on the road, but the pain became more bearable as exhaustion started clouding your perception.

Every time you were about to fall asleep, a tap of your forehead against the window would wake you up.

And you didn't even notice his gaze on you.

After the seventh hit, Jake lost his patience.

"Eso no va a funcionar, cariño." You didn't understand, and you couldn't be bothered to understand as you kept your eyes closed.

The last thing you felt was his body moving closer to yours.

You yielded, your body finally relaxing as you managed to fall asleep. It was easier for Jake to wrap his arm around your shoulders and gently push you against his, allowing you to rest.

Almost immediately, he regretted it.

Jake didn't have this kind of closeness with anyone. His interactions with other people always involved punches, sometimes harder, sometimes softer, but pain was always present.

Was it normal for his heart to race like this? He would investigate later.

You moved your head slightly to snuggle better against his shoulder as he held his breath, trying not to make the slightest movement that could wake you.

"¿Cuánto va a ser?" he asked in a low tone so that the driver would understand his concern about not disturbing you.

The driver pointed to the meter in silence. Well, he encountered someone even quieter than himself.

Jake lost count of how many times he whispered in your ear, "Shh, cariño." (although sometimes he changed the endearment to "cielo" or "corazón") as a way to lull you in his arms whenever you shifted in your seat.

When you arrived, he paid in silence, as usual.

He didn't wake you up, in fact, he did his best to be as stealthy as possible.

He slid one of his arms under your legs, wrapped the other around you, and lifted you up like a bride.

Jake was careful, but not so much that your reflexes didn't catch the movement.

You woke up, but never opened your eyes; you simply nestled closer to his chest and enjoyed his care.

Tomorrow you would both face whatever you had to face.

[vintagegirl01]

How Would the Moon Boys React: To you calling them by their first name based on the internet trend below: https://youtu.be/3FOLHWDY-4c?si=ZXIl1UkcNSCdvaZ4

Steven:

You and Steven have spent the day cleaning up around the flat and running errands around the city. Therefore, you both decided it would be best to unwind by reading in bed together.

Steven comes back into your bedroom with two mugs of tea for the both of you. You peck his lips in thanks.

“Hey Steven, before you sit down, can you please pass me that book on your nightstand?”

He turns around quickly. “Who is that?”

You giggle. “Steven, can you please pass the book over?”

Steven looks at you with those puppy eyes you love so much.“Why did you call me, Steven?”

“Because It’s your name, silly.”

“I’m not Steven. I’m your honey bunny.”

“Steven…”

“Honey bunny!”

“Steven…”

“ I’m not, Steven. I’m your honey bunny and that’s that.”

You smile and nuzzle into his chest. “Yes, you are.”

Marc:

You and Marc are watching a show on television, scrolling through your phones. Then something interesting comes up that reminds you of Marc that you just had to show him.

“Hey Marc, can I show you something?”

He looks up from his phone. “What did you just say?”

You start repeating your question again.“Can I show you some…?”

“I heard that part. I meant before that.”

“Hey Marc…?”, you say confusedly.

“Oh shit… what day is it?”, he starts checking his phone and looks up at the calendar.

No important dates. He thinks. Did he leave the toilet seat up? Did he forget to do the dishes? Did he leave on a mission without giving her a goodbye kiss before leaving?

“Hello. Earth to Marc…Baby, are you okay?”

“You called me baby? You aren’t mad at me?

You giggle.“No. But I was worried you were upset.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before Marc engulfs you in a hug. “I love you.”

You wrap your arms around him. “I love you too, baby.”

Jake:

Jake is currently working on his car outside of the flat. As a good girlfriend, you decide to go out and offer him some refreshments.

When you get outside, you see him working under the hood of his car.

“Hey Jake, I brought you some water and…”

You then hear Jake hit his head against the hood of the car as he mutters some curse words in Spanish.

You look at him concerned. “Jake, are you okay?”

“Cariño, stop calling me that!”, he says exasperated.

“What, by your name?”

“My name is Jake to you. It’s babe, baby, or daddy”, he says, giving you a smirk.

“Jake!”, you giggle.

“That’s it! He carries you over his shoulders and “You won’t be calling me Jake after this.”

“But your car…”, you start saying before he quickly interrupts you.

“Forget the car. I have more important matters to attend to”, he says as he enters your flat and locking the door.

[cowboymarcs]

blow

marc spector x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral sex (m recieving)

having marc’s cock in your mouth was one of your favorite things. the way his veins gently scraped against your teeth sent a thrill through you. his thick, muscular thighs around your head made you see stars. you looked up at him, almost sure that you had hearts for eyes. 

he stared down at you, eyes lidded and gaze hazy. you sucked harder, enjoying the moan that left his lips and the way his head fell back. you released with a pop, licking up the saliva that pooled at his balls. you took his balls in your hand, massaging and contemplating putting them in your mouth. 

your fingers trailed over his sensitive sack. his thighs tensed in anticipation, waiting for you to suck it. you thought about teasing him. thought about kissing everywhere but his groin, making his shudder and beg for more, but ultimately decided against it; you wanted to see him come. 

you took his balls in your mouth, sucking, and hand pumping his cock. your palm skating up and down, thumb massaging the head once you came to the top. you smeared his precum up and down along his length. your fingers tightened slightly, hoping, praying that he would make some noise for you. 

marc complied, groaning and keeping his gaze on you. god, you wanted to make him come so bad. you wanted to see his thighs tense up and shake, to feel his hand gripping your hair, biceps and forearms showing in the most delicious ways. his balls left your mouth, and you made quick work to take his cock down your throat.

you pushed his cock into your mouth as far as it could go, nose brushing the coarse hair at his base. you gagged, making his hand grasp the hair at your scalp and push, spurring you on. 

“yeah, that’s it baby, choke on my dick,” marc grunted out, his dark eyes watching. you moaned at his words, choking again on his thick length. he pulled you off, and you gasped for air, spit dribbling down your chin. marc stood from the bed, and you watched his cock bounce, eager to have it back in your mouth.

you lined your mouth back up and looked at him. 

“this okay?” 

you nodded fiercely, needing his cock back in your mouth. marc didn’t waste any time. he slid his wet cock back into your throat and set a steady pace. the way his head hit the back of your throat made you delirious with pleasure. the way his length slid against your tongue made your panties dampen with need. 

his hips slapped against your face with ferocity, cock hardening even more – if possible – with the urge to come. his hand gripped your hair, fingers digging into your scalp. the pain felt like pleasure with his hands on you. you spared a glance up, hoping to meet his eyes, only to find the strained muscles of his neck as his head was thrown back. he was panting, chest heaving. his other hand reached down and buried itself in your hair. he was moments away now, you knew it. his breath quickened to match the pace of his hips. 

“i’m gonna- fuck. i’m gonna come baby…” it was all he said before his hips stilled and his come spilled down your throat. you kept sucking, hoping to drain him of every drop, wanting to be full of his seed. as he came down, thrusts slowing, and breath evening, you released his cock from your mouth. you sat back, inspecting to see if you missed any drops. 

marc fell backwards, collapsing on the bed with a sigh of fulfillment, his cock throbbing from release. he reached down, grabbing your underarms and pulling you to sit atop him. you felt his cock against your clit and whimpered. his fingers found the underside of your chin, pulling you into a searing, open-mouthed kiss. 

the taste of him was heavenly. 

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

THE MEDIATOR AND THE INSTIGATOR.

(moon system) marc spector x reader — angst

summary. you and marc have been casually dating for a while now, though he finds it hard to admit his feelings. steven fronts to comfort you after a tiny argument, and he finds it hard to contain his own feelings towards you

word count. 1290

wrote this to get me out of a writers block and did a spinning wheel to help. so here we are, enjoy the slight heartache x

With Marc, things weren't always so straightforward. Either things were dramatised and blown beyond proportion or, on the contrary, brushed under the carpet and ignored. It was tricky to find a plain levelling road between you.

You've been seeing each other casually for the last several months, and it was still so hard to pull a genuine emotional response from Marc. Just something to let you know he felt the same way as you, just something to let you know you were both going in the same direction.

He kept his feelings behind a stoic wall, never wanting to allow someone the opportunity to jump it. Although sometimes, he would show small snippets of his feelings towards you - doing something cute and instantly brushing it off with a casual, throwaway comment: a singular flower on your pillow in the morning or your favourite snack stocked in the cupboards, for him to then say he doesn't know how it got there.

It's little things like these that you desperately clung to, tiny moments that gave you hope.

You often felt a continuous spiral of confusion revolving around your own feelings. In your heart, you knew you wanted to give things a genuine go with Marc, but that lingering thought remained intact in the forefront of your mind. The thought that you shouldn't have to convince someone to be with you - that you should never have to force someone to want you.

You had stayed over Marc's last night, and you woke this morning to an empty bed and a flower resting on your phone atop the nightstand. You smile at the singular red rose and sit up, placing your hand on Marc's side of the mattress - feeling how warm it is. He must've been up a while because the sheets were stone cold.

Scooching across the bed, you stand and slip on your pyjama bottoms - walking out of the bedroom to locate Marc. Within a few quick moments, you find him sitting at the kitchen table - a bowl in front. He gives you a short nod, lips forming an ever-so-faint smile when you get closer.

He was distancing himself again.

"Morning," you say, walking past him. You grab a bowl from the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer and go to sit opposite him, filling your dish with the cereal on the table. "Do you want to do something today?" you ask, pouring the milk into your bowl.

"Can't. I have plans," he says, tone like that of dismissal. He stands, picking up his bowl to place it in the sink - leaving you again.

You nod, sadly smiling as you prod your spoon into the floating flakes. "What about after?" you offer, trying again.

"I'll let you know," he murmurs, barely looking over his shoulder, heading for the bedroom.

You sigh, feeling frustrated. Moments like these undid all the progress between you. Everything you worked so hard towards - gone. You no longer felt like eating your breakfast, and as the seconds passed, you stayed there at the empty table, staring at the pieces of cereal growing soggy.

You hear scuffling from the other room, presumably from Marc getting ready for the day - you hear muffled talking, though no words are cohesive enough for you to pick up on. You sit there, silently debating what to do. One part was begging to barge into the room and force him into talking. The other part had the urge to get up and leave.

You decide partially on the latter and stand from your seat at the table, walking across his apartment and into his bedroom. You knock firmly at the ajar door, peering your head through the gap.

"I need to get my clothes. Can I come in?" you ask, tone pointed.

He hums faintly, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he moves to pull on the handle - letting you in.

Keeping your eyes away from his direction, you walk around his bed and collect your things - throwing everything in your overnight bag.

"Where are you going?" Marc questions, halting in his placement by the dresser.

"Home," you reply shortly, continuing to pack your belongings. You undress and put on what you wore last night when you came over - throwing your sweats back on.

"Why?" he asks, voice far more gentle than those moments before in the kitchen.

You ignore his questioning and shove on your shoes. But Marc is quick to notice your attempts to leave, so he moves to stand in front of the bedroom door - blocking it.

Your head cocks to the side as you sigh, unamused by his sudden care. You step forward, hoping that he'll take the hint and step aside, though he doesn't.

"Why?" he repeats, his tone just as desperate - maybe even more so.

"I don't feel welcome here, I just want to go home," you reply honestly, gesturing for him to move. "We'll talk about it another day, just not now."

"Let's talk about it now," he prompts, eyes soft as he focuses on you. It was clear he didn't want you leaving him, especially right now.

"You never want to talk about anything."

"I want to now."

"What? When I'm trying to leave? That's when you care?"

He stills, his expression firming. Unknowingly you hit a sore spot. "Yeah, go on, then. Leave. Everyone else does, anyway," he sneers, moving from the door - walking to stand in his previous spot in front of the dresser.

You pause, taken aback by his comment. Does he not know how hard you've tried with him? How patient you have been?

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask turning to face him, voice firm and frustrated.

He's focused on the mirror ahead, looking at himself - muttering things to the other person in the reflection.

You linger in your spot, waiting for Marc to say something. Though he never does.

"Alright?" he greets - the face is the same, but the accent is not.

"Steven?" you question, your tone far softer now.

He hums, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, patting beside him. You follow suit, sitting next to him - hand beside his.

"He's trying," Steven says, speaking like the mediator. "He just finds it... hard."

You nod. You understood, you understood it all. You knew of his past, and why he is the way he is - and that's why you were always so patient with him. It wasn't his fault. It's just how he is, the way he grew up. You were just hoping that by now, he'd be comfortable enough to let you in the same way you did him. If there is no trust, how ever can it work?

"I just wish..." you pause, twisting around to face Steven. "I wish he was honest with me— you are," you pick up his hand, holding it in yours. "You're honest."

He sighs faintly with a soft shake of the head, retracting his hand from your hold. "Give him a chance— just one more, yeah?"

You awkwardly place your hands on your lap, moving them away from Steven.

"Marc loves you, you know. He really does," he says, voice gentle, his face wounded. He diverts from your gaze, turning away to look at the mirror. "He just can't admit it to himself."

You follow his eyeline, trying to see what he sees, but he's quick to turn back around - his gaze now locked on you beside him. He's quiet as he places his palm over your knee, the warmth and touch familiar like all those times before - it's Marc.

"I'm ready to talk now."

never wrote them together before/ part of the moon system, scary shit

[milkypompon]

Chapter 1 | Midnight Musings

pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader, implied Jake Lockley x Reader)

summary: Even after a year living with Steven and Jake in the headspace, Marc struggles to quiet the buzzing chatter. He finds himself frequenting Coffee for Two, a place where brewing roasts fill the air and the cookies are as sweet as the barista.

content: coffeeshops, fluff, innuendo (thanks to Jake), poor shy and tired Marc who just needs his drink

wc: 1.2k

a/n: HELLO Moon Knight luvers!! I'm sweeping out this fic since I've had it around for some bit!

Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Coffee Doodles Masterlist

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—

Working the closing shift has its disadvantages… and occasional perks. 

People weave in and out of the café from the crack of dawn, then scurry away when the moon is at its highest. Rarely did they stay to settle down on the rickety chairs late into the night, ever so eager to drag themselves home after a long day.

You hardly remember the customers’ faces, usually down-turned with a sour look of annoyance on their phones who impatiently tap their shoe on the wooden floors. 

The man in front of you with waves of hair swept back to reveal his gruff demeanor, albeit a ruggedly handsome one, wasn’t any different from the others. Yet, you try to catch his eye as he sends a text. 

“You work the late hours like me?” You ask and crack a smile, immediately regretting it after realizing how wry it must’ve appeared from your exhaustion. 

He merely grunts in confirmation.

You clear your throat and idly tap your fingers on the granite countertop. “What can I get for you then?”

“Just a cup of coffee. Make it black.” He retrieves a leather wallet from his jacket pocket and pulls out a few quid in exchange for the kick of energy he desperately needs. 

“Your name?”

“Marc.” 

You whisper his name to yourself before reaching beside you to grab a paper cup and scrawling it on there.

Marc watches you catch your bottom lip between your teeth in fierce concentration as you doodle a smiley face next to his name. He wonders if you did this for every customer or if it was a way to keep yourself awake.

Before you made your last mark, you saw him through your peripheral vision staring at you intently. Usually, customers appreciate the little pick-me-up from the drawings you made. You inwardly wince for holding him up. “Sorry, you must be in a hurry”. You quickly cap the pink Sharpie and toss it into a small ceramic pot filled with other writing utensils. 

Marc notes how some were more appropriate or journaling, like the bright glitter pens, than for work. But it was well-loved all the same since it was nearly flatlining from use. 

“I’ll have it out for you in a minute.”

He shook his head, the black locks of curls bouncing slightly. “No rush, really.”

You situate yourself behind the coffee machine, tinkering with the buttons and opening the wrinkled bag of coffee beans. The warm scent permeates the air, even more so when the brown liquid dribbles into the cup. You quietly sigh in relief at the simplicity of the process. You’ve had a fair share of blended and iced drinks often brought back to the counter by unamused customers, claiming that it didn’t taste the same as last week even though there was a clear-cut recipe list plastered in front of your face when you made their orders. 

You carefully fiddle the cap over the cup and hand it to Marc with a tired smile. 

Marc felt your fingers brush along his. It was warm, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from the coffee. Regardless, he nodded in thanks and was soon swallowed by the darkness as he left to sip his coffee at nearly 1 a.m.

The London weather constantly nipped at his fingertips. 

He curses under his breath and shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket. He longed to settle back into his flat and curl up into layers of blankets, which was truthfully a sorry excuse for warmth because of the godawful heater he just couldn’t find the time to fix. His mind drifted to your touch, it was light, brief if anything. But it sparked a warmth that a blanket or a cup of coffee couldn’t quite satiate. 

A snarky voice filled his headspace, Fuckin’ touch starved.

Marc rolled his eyes. Shut your damn mouth, Lockley. 

He crosses the road, not bothering to look left or right, there’s only him, the moon, and some bloke smoking a dying cig by a closed convenience store. When he squints he saw Steven picking at the loose threads of his shirt in the window. 

Quite a looker with a pretty voice. 

Marc sighs in response, Not you too. 

He takes one last gulp at the bitter drink before raising it over the tin can filled with other rubbish. The streetlamp’s yellowish light caught your handiwork on the cup, his name with half a smiley face messily written with your pink Sharpie. He chuckled at the unfinished doodle, remembering how your eyes widened when you realized he was watching you closely. 

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Steven remarked.

Marc chuckles at his words.

–

It was another closing shift. 

You begrudgingly accepted it from your coworker who reminded you with a smirk that the pastries behind the glass was up for grabs the moment you flipped the “closed” sign by the window. Anyone with half a mind would have sticky hands for the chocolate croissant dusted with powdered sugar. Just the thought of warming it up in the oven toaster as you wipe the counters and stocked the shelves with mugs made you a little hungry. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be eating sweet treats considering the time, but said sweet treats were going straight into the rubbish-bin if you didn’t house them in your stomach. 

You happily hum a familiar tune you heard on the tube while sliding the glass door separating you and your beloved reward for the hard work.

A pleasant jingle of a bell rang over the front door abruptly ending your monotonous tasks.

You toss your head over your shoulder. “Sorry, we’re closed—” 

The same man (Marc, was it?) nods down in apology for entering after hours. He truly was a man of few words.

“Oh! It’s you. I was afraid you were a customer with a complicated drink coming in at the last second.” You dusted your fingers down the seams of your apron and beckoned him inside. “But, it’s the same as last night?”

Marc runs his fingers through the tufts of his curls, the strands wrapping around each finger. You wondered what it felt like. The thought in passing rises to the forefront of your mind. It left as quickly as it came when you hear him call your name after reading it across the embroidered stitching of your apron.

The corners of his mouth turn up in amusement, hardly an exchange for pleasantries, but it was more than what he’d given before. He slides a few quid on the counter. “Yeah, coffee. Black.” 

You pluck your pink Sharpie and begin to write his name on it. After a few quiet moments of gurgling from the machine, you hand the cup to him. 

He furrows his eyebrows.

You quip with a grin. “Did I manage to mess up the easiest order known to man?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You didn’t draw on it this time.”

You almost laugh but the serious crease on his face was a testament to his genuine disappointment. “Well it wouldn’t be very good service if I didn’t complete my job, eh?”

His eyes shift to the glass covering the pastries as if seeing something you couldn't. “You wanna talk about good service?” A playful lilt tugs at his voice, almost unfamiliar. 

Before you can respond, he mumbles a thank you and scurries out of the cafe. 

Did he just flirt? And… get embarrassed?

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