#Moonknight one shot

[spacecowboyhotch]

Illusion (requested)

gif credits @wysteria-clad

request: Hello I would like to request protective!marc Spector ?!?!?? That’s my pretty boy and I love him.

pairing: f!reader x college!marc spector, implied eventual f!reader x steven grant & f!reader x jake lockley

contents: college!au, mention of DID if you squint, trauma response to abuse, anger issues, alcohol consumption, male dominance, guy disrespecting reader’s boundaries, fighting, kinda friends to lovers, hurt comfort, fluff, kissing

AN: sorry this took me a while @romanarose, but thank you so much for requesting, i hope you like it <3

word count: 3.6k

mcu masterlist | requests are closed

A perfectly crisp autumn day. That’s how Marc would describe you. Comforting and colorful, and the muted smell of pine and cinnamon. He’ll always remember the moment he saw you for the rest of his life; it’s unique to his relationship with you— Steven and Jake have their own first impressions. There’s something he enjoys about having that memory all to himself.

When he meets you, he’s been channeling his anger into a variety of things for as long as he can remember. It’s easier to lean into the rage and self-inflicted criticism. His voice echoes harshly in his head, just like his mother’s had. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes he’s numb to it but it always tells him what he already knows. He’s unworthy of anything but the way people write him off. In turn his behavior might as well help him live up to his reputation.

He can pinpoint the moment he wants all of that to change. It’s not when he first sees you, it isn't even the first time you say something to him in class. As the weeks pass you always sit a few chairs down from him and murmur some variation of hello. He finds comfort in it, the way you smile at him and treat him like he’s anyone else.

You can’t deny that you’re drawn to Marc. There’s something about him, something soft and permeable underneath all that hardness. On the days you truly catch his gaze you feel like you can see him. You want to crack him open, bask in that warm gooey center that no one but you tries to get to. But it'll take time, you know that there's a reason he keeps people at a distance. In time, you hope you won't be on that list, that you’ll be an exception to his antisocial rule.

Mid semester, there’s a group project, and the professor has been kind enough—for Marc, cruel enough—to allow students to pick their own partners. He knows that he won’t get picked, people would rather do the project alone than work with him. While you’re kind to him, he doesn’t expect you to ask him to be your partner.

But that’s exactly what you do. You lean over the two seats between you, a gentle smile on your face when he looks over at you.

“Do you wanna pair up?”

Marc looks at you like you’ve grown two extra heads, and if you weren’t so confused with his reaction you would’ve laughed, “You wanna work with me?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” You look at him with genuine bewilderment.

“My reputation?” He suggests, glancing around the room as other students in the lecture hall pair up with each other.

“I like to come to my own conclusions. And you and me…we’re friends.”

With each day that you work together, Marc grows happier with his decision to pair up with you. You’re a breath of fresh air, the heavy weight that’s always sat on his chest feeling lighter when he’s with you. The two of you always meet up in a cozy corner of the library, and you always have coffee and snacks— sweet chocolate, salty pretzels, and an ever changing fruity option. You wanted to be thorough the first time you brought some and he’d dug into all three so you keep bringing them. His coffee order was easy to guess, black, two sugars and none of the frills.

Halfway through the process Marc starts to overthink your gestures, feeling guilty that he’s given nothing in return and starts to bring food himself. Pizza, burgers with all the fixings on the side, tacos. And through this language of food, your feelings for him grow deeper.

He knew he never stood a chance, that the skip of his heart the moment he saw you walk into class was an indicator of how he would feel for you if you ever got close, and he was right. He was right, and it stings, the pain of knowing he’ll never have you burns deep in his gut. But you couldn’t want him, not with who he is. It’s hard for him to imagine that, even when you dismiss his statements like that.

Friendship is one thing, a relationship? Another realm entirely.

After working together on the project you sit right next to him now in class, and when you’re handed your grade of a 100% you turn to him with this sly smile on your face.

“We should celebrate our phenomenal grade.”

“Should we?” He asks skeptically but he’s grinning because your smile is infectious.

He doesn’t let himself think of it often, but he could get used to this. The sight of you smiling and happy at his side.

“Yes, absolutely, and I know just how.”

“How’s that?”

“There’s a party this weekend.”

His mouth turns down into a frown of disgust, “You lost me.”

“C’mon, we can meet up there, huddle up in a corner and make fun of people,” You lean in, wagging your eyebrows at him.

“Parties aren’t really my scene.”

“Nothing’s your scene, you’re a recluse. Please, Marc?”

You give him full on puppy dog eyes, clasping your hands together. The pout of your face is impossible to resist, and for a moment he thinks about what it would be like to press his lips to yours, kissing it away. If he’s being honest with himself, it wouldn’t have taken all of that. Even with his complaining, he planned on saying yes because he wants to spend time with you.

“There’s no other way we can celebrate?”

“If you come and you absolutely hate it, we can go to my favorite diner.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll text you the address and time. See you then?”

“See you then,” He replies, a mixture of nervousness and excitement in his chest.

Your nerves are all over the place as you get ready for the party. You want to wear something that’ll get Marc’s attention. A short skirt with tights underneath and a long sleeved shirt with just the right amount of cleavage. And while you love the way you look by the time you leave the house, once you make it to the party, you realize that you’ll draw the attention of multiple men, not just Marc.

You entertain the guy who’s slinked up to you at first, he seems nice enough, and happy enough to pursue the drinks and food with you in the kitchen. You’ve never seen him before, which isn’t uncommon at a university of your size. Jason’s a political science major and talks a good game so the two of you chat back and forth easily between sips of stale beer and pizza. It isn’t until after someone convinces a lot of folks, Jason included, to do shots that he starts to get handsy.

“You’re so hot, did I tell you that before?” Jason asks with a smile that makes your stomach turn. He’s waltzing towards you with another beer in hand.

You try to move away from him, but after just a few steps back you’re against the wall, “No, you didn’t. And maybe you should sit down, you seem a little wobbly.”

“Oh, I’m okay. Thanks for being worried about me baby,” One of his hands finds your waist, groping the skin exposed.

“Maybe you could back up,” You suggest softly, but your throat is getting a little thick, your chest tight with anxiety.

“Come on baby, let’s get to know each other a little better,” He goads, pressing his lanky body against yours.

He reeks of alcohol and is unbearably hot. You attempt to push him away with the success, “Jason, come on, have some class.”

“You teasing little bitch, you think I wanted to sit here with you and just talk?

“Take your hands off of her. Now,” Marc barks from the other side of the kitchen, startling you.

And though you’ve always enjoyed the sound of Marc’s voice it’s never sounded better than it does in this moment.

“Marc,” You breathe, relieved by the sight of him.

Jason glares at Marc and then you, “Who the fuck is this? Your little boyfriend? Listen, your girlfriend’s a slut, she was making eyes at me all night. Now when it’s time to pay up she’s confused.”

“I won’t say it again. Take your hands off of her.”

“Or what?”

Marc takes a deep breath, shrugs, and then moves with a quickness. It all happens so fast, you’re in his arms, and across the room in no time. When you look over at Jason, he doesn't seem as if he’s been hurt at all, but there’s a nervousness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Are you okay?” He tries to ask it in a comforting manner but his voice cuts through the air like a knife.

It’s in his eyes though, his concern for you and you give him a nod, soft smile, “Yes, thank you.”

“Good, sit tight.”

He tries to step around you, and get closer to Jason but you put your hand on his chest and he flinches, something you’ve never seen before. If he weren’t so angry he would crumble under the fear that bloomed in his chest from your move. He keeps his focus on Jason, removing your hand and maneuvering you in a twirl with ease.

“Marc, don’t,” You call, whirling around to watch him charge at Jason, who takes a few steps back towards a door that leads out of the kitchen and onto the porch.

“No, this guy thinks he can get away with doing whatever the fuck he wants. Not gonna happen,” You can’t see his face but you can feel the anger radiating off his body in waves as he pushes Jason into the wall, his grip on his shirt firm.

“Marc, please,” You plead softly, voice unsteady. “Please, can you just take me home?”

His hold on Jason stays tight as he looks back at you, getting a good look at your face. All he sees is fear and his heart sinks into his stomach; the last person he’s ever wanted to frighten is you. He knows first hand what it feels like to be afraid of someone like this. He moves quickly, letting Jason go and grabbing your hand to leave all in one move.

You hadn't driven here knowing that you’d have a few drinks, but Marc’s completely sober– he’d only showed up at this party because you’d asked him to. He leads you to his car in complete silence, opening the door for you and checking to make sure you’re in before he closes it.

The anger is rippling off his skin in hot waves, and you aren’t sure if he’s just mad at Jason or if he’s mad at you. You spend most of the ride in silence, picking at an invisible piece of lint on your tights. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t turn on any music, just focuses on getting you to the address you whispered to him when he slipped into the driver’s seat. The silence starts to creep into your lungs and you feel as though you’re choking on the words stuck in your throat, so much so that you finally have to say them even if he is mad at you.

“I’m sorry I got you into all of this. You were sure you didn’t want to go and I made you.”

“I’m just glad I was there to make sure nothing happened to you. That’s what matters. Don’t worry about me,” He doesn’t spare you a glance but you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

The atmosphere in the car changes, and the rest of the drive is filled with a new, comfortable silence now that you know he’s not furious with you. He offers to walk you in once he parks in the lot of your complex, following you up the single flight of stairs to your door. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move and you fumble with the keys a few times before letting him in. He stands in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, watches awkwardly as you sink into the fuzzy blue couch. He isn’t sure what to do or what to say, he doesn’t want to leave but you look overwhelmed, eyes closed as your arms circle you. He’s about to announce his departure when you sigh, and he waits for you to say whatever’s on your mind.

“Will you stay?” You ask softly, keeping your eyes downcast. When he stays silent you hurry to say, “Just for a little bit.”

It’s the last thing that he expected to come out of your mouth. He looks at you for a beat, surprised before sitting down on the couch, training his eyes on the floor, “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

You don’t move toward him, but you don’t move away and some of the tension leaves his body.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” He murmurs once he feels the silence stretches too long.

You over at him like he’s offended you, “You didn’t scare me.”

He makes a disagreeable sound in the back of his throat. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

He has to look at you then, to make sure that your eyes match your words. To his surprise, all he finds is sincerity and relief rushes through him. He can’t remember the last time anyone looked at him the way you are right now, not even when his father tried his best to comfort him through all the pain.

“I’m not afraid of you Marc, I never have been. I told you, you’re my friend. I care about you.”

He wants to say it back to you, wants to take the next step and say that he wants you as more than a friend. But given everything, he stays silent, continuing to regard you with that guarded expression on his face. He can’t let his mask slip, needing to keep the invisible wall between you intact. Being vulnerable doesn’t come easily to him anymore, not when he was violated by someone who was supposed to love him unconditionally.

When you realize he isn’t going to say anything back, you continue, “I just didn’t want you to be who they think you are. That’s what I was afraid of.”

His eyes narrow, “Who’s that?”

“Some angry guy who doesn’t care about anyone.”

He feels exposed, knowing that you know the dichotomy of his makeup. That you know him.

“Maybe that’s who I am,” He says it defensively but both of you can hear the lack of conviction. He’s pushing you away with the last of the smoke and mirrors, and there isn’t much left.

To Marc’s surprise you laugh, shaking your head at him, “You wouldn’t be here with me, apologizing for scaring me if that were true, would you?”

“No,” He breathes softly, almost sounding confused.

You train your eyes on his, as you move closer to him, your leg brushing up against his. Your voice is even softer than before, “Marc, I don’t know what happened to you, and I’m not asking you to tell me. But I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He makes no move to break the contact but his frown sets deeper into his stunning features, “What makes you think something happened to me?”

You raise your hand, just to caress his face and he flinches hard— it’s not something that either of you could brush off. Your eyes soften, tears welling up in your eyes as you lower your hand. You know the signs, understanding exactly what that means. The two of you continue to look at each other, the room quiet and still.

“You can touch me,” He murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“No, it’s okay, it’s-“ Before you can finish your sentence he takes your hand into his, presses it firmly to his cheek and closes his eyes with a shaky breath.

You’re incredibly warm, your scent so saccharine and delicate, and the comforting touch of another is something he hasn’t had in years; he instantly melts into it. With that, you begin to explore, running your fingers down the curve of his cheek, trailing the slope of his chin. You follow that all the way up to his forehead, pushing your fingers back into his curls, your eyes widening at how soft his hair is.

So enthralled in being able to touch him like this that you don’t notice how he watches you. He’s drinking in every detail, watching the way your eyes shine in the dim glow of the moonlight. He’s always found you captivating, but this might be his favorite expression on you yet, eyes full of wonder, a tender smile on your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” He doesn’t mean to say it, but he’s thinking it over and over, it pours out of him.

He says it so gently, it takes your breath away for a moment and now all you can do is look at him.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

A sheepish smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head. “No, I just…” You take in a shuddering breath, “…can I kiss you?”

He blinks a few times, digesting your request with a furrowed brow. When his eyes refocus on you, his expression changes, his tan cheeks staining with a soft pink flush, his eyes clouding with a hunger that shoots straight to your libido. You’re getting ahead of yourself there, especially with how he reacted to just a simple caress of the cheek.

“Marc?” You prompt gently.

“Yes. Sorry, yes. Please.”

You plant yourself firmly in his lap, cupping his cheeks with a caring touch, and his hands find your waist with a firm grip that makes you want to grind against him. The kiss starts sweet, but as your tongues twist and caress each other it morphs, growing steamy. There’s an undercurrent something erotic pulsing through spirit of it. And while you both feel it, neither are ready to go that far.

You want to take your time, get into every crack and cranny of him so that you can eventually take him apart. Marc’s just scared, terrified that taking charge in anyway will fuck this up. That’s all he’s ever known, destroying everything he’s ever held dear.

“Sorry we didn’t get to go to the diner like I promised,” You murmur when you pull away and he chuckles, greedily pressing his lips against yours again.

“I don’t know, this is pretty nice too.”

That’s an understatement but he can’t seem to find the words to convey what this moment means to him.

“Yeah, it is,” You lean into him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You're a little nervous to ask the question on your mind. Hiding your face and breathing in his clean, minty scent gives you a confidence boost.

“Do you maybe…wanna stay? We could go in the morning and get breakfast.”

“Really?” You hear rather than see his surprise.

“Really,” You tell him, pressing your lips to the skin of his neck.

“I would love that,” He whispers into your hair timidly, and your heart squeezes for him.

You lean back to look at him, “Let’s head to bed then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You rise up first, holding your hand out for him with a toothy grin and he takes your hand gladly, his head spinning a little from how tonight’s events have gone. Once in your bedroom, you start to strip, facing away from him and he turns away, wanting to give you your privacy. You peek over your shoulder as you slide into an oversized t-shirt, can’t help but huff a laugh at how much of a prude he’s being, standing there in his jeans and t-shirt.

“You gonna get ready for bed?” You ask gently, turning to face him.

“Are you done?”

“Yes I’m done, baby,” The term of endearment is like soothing water on his hot skin.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth he turns towards you, his eyes roaming your body before flicking cautiously over to your bed. It’s been a long time since Marc has slept in the same bed as anyone. Sometimes with his little brother, later on once he passed with his father. He’s been away from that type of vulnerability for a few years now.

“Do you want my help?” You offer, your expression patient.

“Yes,” He replies after a beat, his voice uneasy.

Slowly, you walk over to him, making sure he can see all of your movements and that you make no sudden moves. You run your hands down his chest and stomach soothingly before reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, wagging in a silent question of on or off.

“You can take it off.”

Scars. Not many, just a few here and there litter his torso, and you don’t let your eyes linger. Your touch stays tender, gentle, eager to explore. Marc’s grateful for that.

“Pants?”

“Off, please.”

You reach for his belt, unbuckling it with no hurry before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down. And once he’s just in his boxers you grab his hand, lead him over the bed and slide under the covers. When you look up at him he hesitates for a moment, and you hold your hands out in encouragement. The soft look on your face puts his mind at ease and he slides in next to you, turning you around and tucking you into his arms with a pleasant hum.

He likes your warmth. Your comfort. He could drown in it.

You let out a sigh of contentment, snuggling further into him, “Goodnight, Marc.”

His mouth dips to kiss the skin beneath your ear, arms giving you a squeeze, “Goodnight, baby.”

if you’d like to be on my moonknight taglist, let me know!

moonknight taglist: @laurensprentiss, @angelfxllcm, @in-between-the-cafes, @honeybrowne, @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @julydaydream, @mona-has-friends

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x female reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x f!reader #moonknight x reader #moonknight x you #marc spector imagine #marc spector one shot #moonknight one shot #moonknight fanfiction #arson writes marvel #not cm

[heartsfromjeanee]

Skating Savior

Steven Grant x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader (Marc Spector x Reader Mention)

Summary: You decide that going ice skating with your boyfriends would be a great idea, until you realize that you have no skills on the ice whatsoever. Warnings: None!

Now that the winter weather was approaching and holiday spirit was high, you were determined to do every cute little holiday activity with your three boys. First thing on your list was to go ice skating, which in your head sounded like a great idea, but as you and Steven got on the ice, you realized that you definitely overestimated your own skills.

“I swear I used to be able to do this better when I was younger…” You mumbled to yourself as you tried to keep your balance as you held onto the side of the rink. Steven on the other hand seemed to be doing just fine, as he glided smoothly next to you.

“Love don’t worry, you’ll catch the hang of it after a few minutes…here take my hand I’ll help you balance.” Steven said as he took your free hand that didn’t have a deathly grip against the wall. You were starting to get frustrated with yourself, not wanting to slow Steven down from enjoying himself.

“When did you learn to ice skate anyways?” You asked, trying to take your mind off of the fear of falling which was very present in your mind.

“Don’t know if I’m being honest. I’ve been on the ice only a couple times in my life, suppose it just comes naturally.” He said with a shrug. “Try to keep your head up Love, it makes it easier trust me.”

You nodded, making an effort to keep your head up and forward, your grip on Steven's hand tightening as you did so. His advice had been working, as you were able to start to feel more confident as you moved. Slowly, you let go of the wall, a smile breaking out onto your face.

“Steven I’m doing it!” You exclaimed and Steven let out a chuckle. Both you started to move faster, until your confidence started to get the best of you and you suddenly loss your footing, falling down onto the ice. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself with your hands before your head hit the ground.

“Oh Cariño, how’d you get down there?” You didn’t need to look up to know that Jake had a smug look on his face as he crouched down to help you up.

“Don’t tell me you're a pro at ice skating too.” You said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you back up onto your feet, all while managing to keep his feet steady on the ice.

“Hey! It’s a skill that could come in handy! Such as these times where I have to keep my girl from ending up in an emergency room because of some ice skates.”

You rolled your eyes as you wiped your hands on the side of your pants, trying to get the feeling of the burning ice to go away. Jake noticed and took your hands inside of his, keeping them wrapped inside of his for a moment, before bringing them up to his face and place a soft kiss onto them. He flipped them over to look to see the condition your hands were in, and to his assumption, they were red with scratches all over your palms.

“My poor Princesa. Whose idea was to do this again?”

“Mine.”

“Of course. You think you’ve had enough skating for the day?”

“Very much so.”

Jake chuckled, letting your hands go and slide his arms around your waist pulling you close to him while you wrapped yours around his neck to keep your balance.

“How about we go to the diner down the street from out flat? I could go for a delicious greasy burger and fries right now.” He suggests while placing his forehead onto yours.

“If Marc or Steven heard that, I think they would both be appalled.” You said with a laugh, knowing that Marc preferred the system to try to eat high protein meals only to keep up with their shape and well, Steven was just vegan.

“Ah trust me their going banana’s up in my head. Now c’mon what do ya say Cariño?”

“Well, lead the way Mr. Lockley. Scratch that. Steer me towards the ring exit and then you can lead the way.” You said and Jake smiled, giving you a sweet kiss before pulling away.

“Alright, but I better get a tip for the service.”

“Oh I’ll give you a tip, just have to wait for it until we get home sweetheart.”

Jake had to bite his lip to restrain the groan that wanted to come out of his mouth from the words you said, as his imagination went wild. Without a second thought, he swirled you around and kept his hands steady onto you, moving the both of you as fast and safely as he could out of that ice rink. He began to think that maybe your idea of going ice skating hadn't been so bad at after all.

#moonknight x reader #Steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #Marc Spector x reader #Moonknight fanfic #Moonknight one shot #Jake Lockley one shot #Steven Grant one shot #Jake Lockly x Reader

[steven-grants-anxiety]

MOONKNIGHT HC - GOODBYE KISSES

——————————-

| GenderNeutral!Reader x Marc x Steven x Jake || Fluffy - no warnings besides mention of kissing

Marc Spector is a big softie when it comes to kissing. He always makes sure that he leaves some sort of mark before heading out the door. His go-to is a temple kiss. Temple kisses are easy to access. Whether you’re standing or sitting he can wrap an arm around your shoulders and press a dramatic smooch on the side of your head, even when he’s in a rush. Its cute and shows that he cares and wants to show affection to the person he loves, even if he’s running out on an early mission. He usually accompanies the gentle action with a very loud and dramatic smooching sound effect, which he knows make you laugh every single time!

Steven Grant has a very different approach to his goodbye affections. Even when he’s in a rush (which is basically always) he still takes the time to bend down and press a gentle kiss against the tip of your nose. The way your nose scrunches up gently causes a warmth to bloom in his chest and a happiness to sweep over his body. It doesn’t matter if you’re standing, sitting down, or sleeping, he takes the time to gently press his lips to your nose. Or when Steven is feeling extra touch starved or lovey, he gently brushes his nose against yours, smiling the whole time. Sometimes he’ll intentionally hold your face and gently squish your cheeks when doing this just to see you laugh.

Jake Lockley is altogether a more confident man than his counterparts. He always goes straight for a real kiss. Always hard, forceful, but full of love. He has no problem grabbing you by the waist and dipping you backward at 5 in the morning just because he wants to make out a little before he’s needed elsewhere. Some kisses are more gentle but no matter what they are full of love and longing. He can’t wait to do it again and again once he’s home, and he makes that very clear. He loves you very much and is always excited to just be able to have you in his own way.

#steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #marc and steven #marvel #moon knight #steven with a v #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moonknight #mcu #moon knight series #moonknight hc #steven grant hc #marc spector hc #moonknight imagine #moonknight one shot #khonshu #steven and layla #layla my beloved #steven my beloved

[ijustwant2write]

The Necklace-Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant x Jake Lockley

(GIF credit to @anhandfulgirl18)

Summary: Reader gets a special necklace.

Characters: Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) smiled as the jeweller showed her the necklace she had just purchased. It was perfect. The piece was thin and delicate, with three, small letters hanging in the middle; M, S and J.

"Is this for your family?" the shop assistant asked.

(Y/N) realised she couldn't exactly say it was for her three boyfriends."Uh yeah."

"Aw, what are their names?"

"Uh, my dad, Marcus, my mum, Stefania and my brother...Jake."

"Would you like to wear it now?"

"Yes, please."

(Y/N) kept looking down at the necklace as she made her way home, fiddling with the letters. With a huge smile on her face, (Y/N) couldn't wait to show everyone.

Entering the flat, she called out, hearing Marc reply. She decided she wouldn't say anything, see if he noticed. She knew he wouldn't but found it funny nonetheless.

"Hey babe." Marc smiled, pulling her towards him by her hips and kissing her.

"Hi." she was always flustered when he did that.

"Where did you go? Thought you were grabbing bread?"

She realised she hadn't covered up her lie."Ah, I went somewhere else actually."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Guess. There's actually a clue on me right now."

Marc looked at her. Could it be her hair? She wasn't gone for long, it couldn't have been that, and it didn't look any different. No new piercings, or tattoos, she would have told him because he would have had to hold her hand. It was a quick trip, she couldn't have bought anything new in that time, she was wearing one of his favourite summer dresses.

"It's her necklace! She's never worn that before." Steven proudly exclaimed.

Jake scoffed."You only noticed cause you were staring at her tits."

"No I wasn't!"

"Hey, I'm not judging, I was too."

"Steven says it's the necklace." Marc said as he looked at it. Steven was right."Wait, did you get all of our initials?"

"Yeah." she shyly smiled."I've had adverts for jewellery on my Instagram, and I wanted one, but I realised I needed to get all your initials."

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned down, kissing her neck, causing (Y/N) to giggle. He unexpectedly picked her up, enjoying the squeal that came out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her up by her ass. He couldn't help but glance down to her breasts, lingering on the initials on the necklace. Lust filled his eyes, licking his lips and grinning as he easily walked her over to the bed.

"This isn't fair, when was the last time I made love to her?"

Marc ignored him, lightly throwing (Y/N) onto her back. He saw a flash of her underwear, the bottom of the dress was ruched up, exposing the very top of her thighs.

"What's got into you?" she lightly laughed, already feeling hot.

"You've got our initials on you, you're telling everyone that you're mine."

"Ours."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Guessing the others didn't like that?"

"I don't care."

"Well, if you're all lucky, I might have time for each of you."

"Don't take long Marc."

"He never does."

"Babe, I've got to prove these two bastards wrong about something."

#Marc Spector #Marc Spector imagine #Marc Spector imagines #Marc Spector one shot #Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant #Steven Grant imagine #Steven Grant imagines #Steven Grant one shot #Steven Grant x reader #Jake Lockley #Jake Lockley imagine #Jake Lockley imagines #Jake Lockley one shot #Jake Lockley x reader #Moonknight #Moonknight imagine #Moonknight imagines #Moonknight x reader #Moonknight one shot #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel one shot

[soupfiction]

Alleyway (NSFW)

Pairing: Jake Lockley x female!reader

Warnings: PWP, bit of roleplay with Mr. Lockley, rough public sex, dirty talk that includes crude names and degredation, choking, the gloves stay on during sex, thigh riding, biting that causes a tiny amount of blood, anddd hair pulling.

Word Count: 4.0K

Summary: The man in the limo is one you know, but for tonight, he is not a lover nor a friend—merely a predator stalking.

A/N: Everyone say thank you hormones! Got me out of my writers block purely because I wanted some lockley smut. Also wasn’t sure if I should put translations for the spanish directly after the words/phrases, so let me know if I should.

There’s music playing across the street. Some loud, energetic beat that spills out into the night from the open door of a club, patrons stumbling out past the stone-faced guard that eyes them lazily. The sidewalk seems to tremble with the noise, chorus of the song resonating within the ground, trailing up into the soles of your shoes until you can feel it in your toes. So, so ear-splitting that you don’t hear the humming of the ahcromatic limo driving down the street, mere metres away.

Completely oblivious, you make eye contact with the bouncer. His bald head gleams in the streetlight, a gaze that you can sense run over your form sent your way. Hell, you don’t blame him. Dressed like you are, he probably assumes you’ll waltz over to the steel entrance sometime soon. Cross across the street and look at him all prettily like everyone must, begging for the chance to pass the velvet rope that hangs from the pole next to the door. A man in a wrinkled tux exits, almost tripping over his own feet. The cord remains unlatched, the bouncer still staring.

The limo pulls up next to you.

Tinted windows allow you to get a glimpse of yourself. Cold bitten nose and cheeks, eyes widened into saucers. Silk dress tight around your chest, poking nipples visible through the fabric. The frigid air bites, but you had decided to forego your jacket for the night, knowing it won’t take long for him to find you. True to your thoughts, it had only taken fifteen minutes for him to spot you amidst the bustling city districts night-life.

You take a step back as the passenger side window rolls down. A flat, black beret sits atop what you know is luscious brown curls, obscuring them and casting a shadow that ends just above thick eyebrows. One cocked up like the side of his mouth. It opens, exposing teeth like a predators. His words fade within the boistourous music as you take another step away from the luxiorus car, then another. Until your back meets the side of a building, thudding softly into it but it forces a gasp from you anyways.

The smirk turns sinister, and alarm bells ring. Bouncing inside the confines of your head, slamming right to left, left to right. The cold seems to have infiltrated your limbs to the point they’re frozen. Skin and muscle turned ice, still like a deer faced with the rapidly approaching headlights of a vehicle. The rumbling of the engine falls to a stop, his dark eyes still on you, and the spell is broken.

You’re making your way down the street before he can exit, ankle boots clicking against the cement in rapid succesion.

The streetlights offer steady illumtination, but your vision blurs. Adrenaline rushing through every inch of your body, turning your limbs shakey and air stuttering. It puffs out in front of you, haze that you barely notice before you’re going through it, pace contained to a fast walk instead of a run like you so desperately want to.

There’s too many eyes on you. The club disapearing behind you, yet its clients among others still up and down the other side of the street. Drunk and tipsy, laughing and carrying on. Unknowing to your current predicament, and you intend to keep it that way lest one of them interrupt what you know will eventually occur.

You trust Jake to not hurt you, but you’re unsure about everyone else. Care for a stranger turning lethal if they attempt to follow, nervous for your well-being with the intimidating man trailing after you.

A man and another walk past you, hand-in-hand and sending looks with how you’re continuously speeding up. Tapping of your shoes’ heels against the ground turning pounding with the force you put into it, willing the mere strength of each step to quicken your escape without you necessarily having to outright run. The air feels stolen from your lungs no matter how deep of a breath you take. It’s not enough and won’t be with the nerves and arousal that demand attention. Crawling up inside of you and sending periodic bursts of energy in your chest and lower stomach.

The muscles of your legs burn. Calves and thighs aching with the way you’ve got them taut, wide strides propelling you further and further. Anticipation curls tighter within you, ears ringing louder now with the music growing quieter the longer you walk. It turns your stomach and makes you feel sick, becoming too much until you have to glance behind you, knowingly acknowledging the devil himself by doing so.

His blue dress shirt is colored black for tonight, barely noticable under the thick topcoat. All darkly colored like the cap atop his head, front portion pointed downwards as he attempts to look like he’s simply watching where he walks. But you know better. Can feel his stare, heavy and pointed. Hands tucked into the pockets and leather dress shoes clacking against the paved walkway. A step ahead of yours in switfness, slowly gaining on you with each footfall. Growing faster now that you dared look at him, forcing your stare to return to in front of you.

You’re past the separate, small groups of people by now. Entirely alone in your endeavor as you pass under a circular spot of light that the streetlamp offers. A brick building to your right, shadows of the night that eat at everything giving way to an opening between the towering establishments just ahead.

The alleyway is an abyss. Ilumination stopping at its enterence and giving it a daunting persona. A place you wouldn’t walk down any other day, but now it’s little more than an option at losing him. If you can just turn into it quickly enough that you have a few seconds to navigate through it and into the street on the other side—maybe then you’ll stand a chance. He’s got his limo parked on this avenue, so maybe if you get far enough he’ll go back to it. Search for you by car again.

Within the span of a second, you’re whipping towards it. Out from the glow of the light and once again consumed in the darkness of the night. The ends of your shoes echo against the dense walls, walking-pace turned into that of a run, spurred on by the fact you’re out of everyone’s viewpoint. There’s no more risk of someone seeing, and that ignites a fire within you. No one to interfere, which means if—when— Jake catches you, he’s more than free to do whatever he wishes.

You make it halfway through before a hand is wrapping around your upper arm, grip strong before it’s shoving you against the alley’s side wall with enough strength to steal the air from your chest in a short-lived gasp. The heel of his palm digs into your shoulder, fingers wrapping around like a vice. Keeping you there as his other hand goes to your throat, pressing and stunting the exhale into a wheeze.

“Aye, chiquita, chiquita…,” Jake taunts, hot breath to contrast the cold that has turned your features dully numb as he gets an inch away from your face. He’s close enough that you can smell the spicy musk that trails after wherever he goes. Something warm and faint, only noticeable when he’s right there. When it’s too late. “Has no one taught you any manners? Running from me…,” he clicks his tongue chastisingly, pressure on your throat relenting enough for you to take in a shaking inhale. “Should I teach you some, bonita?”

Your eyes resolve to an agreement with the dimness of the alleyway, giving way to the features of the man before you. Brown eyes turned into endless black pools beneath the brim of his hat, the quirk of his lips set into a knowing smirk that says, I’ve got you now. It spreads throughout your body and right to the heat that simmers low within you—the kind that’s been there since you left the apartment, Jake’s words fresh in your head: Like cat and mouse, ratoncita. You go, I chase.

But the game never lasts long; becoming over before it’s barely begun, leaving you in the grasp of a more than excited predator. Not that you’d ever mind.

You swallow thickly, feeling your throat bob against his leather clad hand, but stay silent. Nerves grabbing at your vocal cords and holding them, rendering you quiet in the face of such danger. The only sound is the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears as he consumes you in his stare, swallowing you entirely with it. A viscious look takes over his angular features as you cower.

“Nervous, now? So confident that you’ll get away, only to end up here, justo donde has pertenecido desde el principio.” He emphasizes the last of his words by sliding his hand down from your throat and to your tits. Nipples poking through the material, already senstive as he takes the left one in his grasp, running a thumb over the bud and making you jerk. A dark chuckle leaves his throat at your reaction, and he does it again, harder this time. “Little bitch practically keening for such a simple touch. Let’s see what happens when I give more, eh?”

“Jake—,” you start, plea falling on uncaring ears as he wraps a finger in the middle of the top portion of your dress and tugs it down in one swift pull, exposing your chest to the cold air. The wash of frigidness pulls a shiver from you, goosebumps rising to meet the sudden subjection to the change in temperature.

He doesn’t leave you to feel it for long, lowering his head and hot mouth closing over your right nipple. Tongue running circles before his blunt teeth graze over it, your chest heaving towards the feeling as he softly bites down, rolling it until your lips part and a whine falls out.

When he moves to the other nipples, your hand flies out to steady yourself. Grasping at the hard muscles of his upper arm, only getting to just barely find a firm hold before he’s shooting a hand up and grabbing your forearm, yanking it up and above your head so that it bangs against the wall. Mouth leaving your chest in the same moment he’s doing the same with your other arm, sliding the fingers of one hand to grab both of your wrists in a tight hold.

“Really trying to touch me after acting like you don’t want it,” Jake rags out, all in your face, nose bumping against yours. Licking his lips, tongue so close to your own mouth that you open it as if commanded by muscle memory. A deep chuckle, leaning in closer so the tips of your breasts brush against his clothed chest, feeling how the bass of it vibrates within him. “Qué estúpido, chiquita. Do you not know any better?”

The heat of his words go right past your parted lips until it feels like your own. A breath of life. It makes your head spin, legs going all gooey despite the cold air persisting against them. He crudely shoves a knee between them, splitting your thighs apart so he can hover inbetween them, feeling how the heat of your pussy radites onto him even when not directly touching.

“What do you say?” Leather fingers grabbing at your chin forcefully, shaking your head side to side. You begin to do it for him, saying, no, no, because all you can think about is how close he is. Mouth right there, knee just inches away from where you need him most. Not moving, still, making you burn in the late october chill. He takes two fingers and taps them against your cheek, showing his teeth in a viscious smile. “Don’t worry,” fake sympathy bleeding into his husky tone, “I’ll teach you.”

He's closing the space between your clothed cunt and his leg in a second. Pressure at your wrists growing loose all at once so your body drops an inch, then closing back up on them in a vice, squeezing hard when you wiggle at the sudden contact. Moving his leg back a bit so that his knee is pressing right into your clit, keeping it there and lowly saying, “Now, you will get off on my thigh like the desperate bitch I know you are.”

And, shame to the wind, he is right.

Leaving without the warmth of your jacket, taking a street he often frequents for clients, even the move you made to simply ensue a chase. From the start you knew how this would be, because with him after you, there really is no other conclusion than to end up in his leather clad hands. So, in the darkness of the alleyway, you begin to let your hips rise and fall, feeling localizing around the growing heat between your legs.

The hardness of the top of his knee is achingly good as you rut yourself against it. Hesitant at first, but then he’s grabbing a handful of the meat at your hips, urging you to chase your release like he had you. All the while he’s alternating between praises and degrading phrases, muttered roughly in front of you so that he can watch as you get off. How pathetic and good you look like this, all desperate with just him trailing after you earlier. His pants don’t let him feel it, but the growing wet patch on your underwear alone confirms that. How each time you go back you can feel it pressing and sticking to your soaking folds as you continue.

That burning fire in your lower stomach grows hotter. Flames licking at your skin, turning your body flushed. Cool air brushing over you feeling more and more like a good thing. Jake’s so close, the heat of his body washing over you like a blanket. All musk and overbearing like the coil that tightens with each motion of your hips. He can tell, face growing more smug each time you glance up, your eyes lidded and mouth parted.

You wish he’d just close the distance. He’s still got your wrists in his hand, upper arms inches from your ears. Fingers digging into your hip, letting you go at your own pace as long as it’s constant, or else he’s forcing you to move with a tsk. Face right there, letting you pant and breathlessly moan while he simply watches, lips so close you could go forwards and kiss them easily. The bone of his knee hits just right as you grind forwards again, and fuck, you go forwards with it, leaning up and getting rid of the space yourself.

The kiss is entirely desperate, your nose bumping into his. You’re half worried he won’t respond after what he did earlier at you grasping his arm, but something seems to snap inside of Jake. He returns the action with fevor, pressing his mouth into yours so hard that your head is shoved back against the wall. The hand he had on your hip goes to your throat, squeezing enough that you’re gasping, and he’s shoving his hot tongue in, groaning as you start rutting faster against his knee.

“Mocosa,” He rasps between the wet noises of kissing, fingers expertly finding your corteroid artery and compressing it until your head grows fuzzy. The window of your mind is abruplty closed, fog appearing on the glass. You can’t think straight, and he takes advantage of it by moving to deliver a sharp bite to your earlobe. “What did I say? Won’t even listen when I’m letting you be desperate like this.”

“M’sorry,” you gasp out, heat inside of you growing and growing as he travels down to below his hand, nipping at where your neck and shoulder meet. Teeth scraping before he’s clamping down, pulling a moan from deep in your chest. “Couldn’t—Couldn’t help it. Sorry, m’sorry—,” you continue to ramble out, whimpering between the words as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

Everything’s gone soft around the edges. Mind going into a tunnel vision of just Jake. How he’s making you feel with his downturned lips at your collarbone, hand at your throat. Wrists dully throbbing as the strength he’s putting into holding them has your heartbeat resonating there. He’s everywhere, and you barely get a choked announcement that you’re about to go over the edge of the cliff before you’re falling, vision fading as your eyes roll back inside of your skull.

Your hips stutter to a stop as your body trembles, lips parted in a soundless oh. Then he’s releasing your throat from his hold and moving down to make you ride out the burst of feelings, forcing you to move through it and muttering phrases into your ear that hover in the air, unable to pass through the haze.

Overstimulation breaks its way through just as you return back down from the night sky. Jake gives you barely enough time to get a breath before he’s receding completely and flipping you around, then coming back on you. Front pressed against your back, shoving your bare breasts against the cold wall. Ripping the bottom of your nice, silk dress up so hard that you hear something tear.

You go to say something about it, how expensive it was and how Marc got it for you, but he’s growling out, “Don’t care.” Before delivering a slap to your ass, its noise echoing throughout the alleyway as he drags your underwear down to below your knees in one swift pull.

The wetness of your pussy becomes more apparent as it greets the cold air, then Jake’s fingers as he rubs them, gloved and all, through the slick. “Look at this, eh? Maldita patética.” He gives a few quick movements so that you can hear just how soaking you are for him, mirroring the slap in how the lewd sounds seem to keep going, bursting against the walls and back again.

A wash of heat crawls up your neck, spreading across your face and ears until you feel like a furnace amidst the cold. Jake at your backside adding to it by bringing that same hand up in front of your face, spitting out, “Mirda,” before a pathetic sound leaves your lips at the sight.

Your wetness covering the top half of his fingers, remaining attached in a string even as he spreads them, twisting them all around for you to fully see. Then it’s being dragged over your cheeks, slowly going over each side before wiping the rest over your mouth. Not giving you a chance to do anything as he drags his hand through your hair and tugs your head back, meeting your lips and tasting how it mixes in with your spit and moaning. A low sound that goes straight to your lower stomach, relighting the fire as fast as it had faded to sparks.

“Love how you get when I come after you, ratoncita,” he gruffs out, breaking the kiss and using his hold on your strands to yank your neck to the side so he can trail wet kisses up it. Undoing his buckle and zipper as he lowly whispers, “Don’t even need to do much and you’re already like this, eh? A bitch in heat.” Letting go of your hair and pushing the hot head of his dick through your folds, brushing against your clit and making your thighs jerk. “Say it for me, bonita. Say it.”

“I—I’m, fuck,” your words break off in a gasp as he slides a hand to encompass one of your tits, holding the nipple between two fingers and rolling it. Arching your hips farther into him unconciously, making his lesiurly thrusts between your thighs stroke against your throbbing bud each time. “A bit—bitch in..in. Jake, just. Please. Just do it—,”

The hand at your chest is suddenly clamping over your mouth. Fingers pressing into the side of your face, your head going back against his shoulder with the force of it. Grabbing onto your waist with his other, all hot and heavy even through the fabric of his glove. He’s right there in your peripheral, glaring at you with a feral glint in his dark eyes. “What—did—I—say?” Spitting it out through a snarl, emphasizing each word by making the warm leather dig into your cheek a degree more than the last until you’re sure it’s going to bruise.

You try to say it. A bitch in heat, that’s what you are. But it’s muffled against his palm, your spit smearing over your mouth in the process. He laughs. “Ohhh, now you want to talk?” Shoves you forward against the alley wall until you’re tight between it and him, his lower half remaining where it is so that the head of his dick is now right at your entrance. “Too late for that now, mocosa.”

Then he’s sheathing himself inside of you in one swift movement, hips meeting your ass with a smack. The cry that you let out is so loud that you’re almost thankful for the hand at your mouth. Air puffing in and out of your nose, the scent of leather heavy. Not enough to fill your lungs before it’s being expelled in a forecul exhale as Jake brings himself back then forward again so fast that you’re left reeling, hands reaching back to grab at his overcoat when he begins to do it over and over again.

Quick, deep movements that don’t give you enough time to process let alone breath. Every stuttering intake being forced into a gasp as he propels himself into you, angling his hold on your face so that you’re staring down the alley at the place you would’ve left through had you made it in time. Wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you tight against him, not leaving an inch for you to wiggle away from what he’s giving you. Growling profanities hotly into your ear, “—Knew you wouldn’t get away. Don’t want to when I give it to you like this, right, bonita? Feels so good, doesn’t it?”

You can barely concentrate when he’s hitting that spot inside of you. The kind that has your eyes squeezing shut, stars bursting through the inky black like you never shut your eyes at all. Being consumed by the night sky above all because of Jake. Cries of pleasure so consistent that they’re still audible through his glove, so much so that he’s ragging out how you should be quieter before someone sees. Hears the very distinct sounds of you both and rounds into the alley, walking onto a scene that is downright scandolous.

Still, he doesn’t relent, makes you take it and berates you for it all the same. Warnings raspily chuckled between words that have your release building faster than before. Sliding covered fingers down to your heat, sliding past the hood of your clit so he can directly touch the nerve, rubbing circles that have your knees buckling. Your moans being met by his groans that grow more and more similar to growls as he ruts into you, chasing his release while spurring yours on at the same time.

He builds your orgasm up so well that you don’t even have time to notice it’s there before it’s upon you, crumbling you down and turning your limbs into nothing more than liquid. You collapse in his hold, legs trembling and eyes rolling back so hard you see white. Nothing more than clay in Jake’s hand. Molded so perfectly that the spasms of your cunt send him over the edge, too. A serrated groan from his mouth that is buried in your neck, cut off at the end when he sinks his teeth into your burning skin.

Jake removes the hand over your lower face and sucks at the stinging bite as you both come down, only licking up your neck and to your mouth when your eyes blink open. The kiss has a familiar metallic tang to it, making you pull back as you look up at him, meeting his blown pupils and smug grin. “Did you draw blood?”

“Told you to do what I say,” he snickers, running his tongue over teeth that you think might actually be stained slightly pink. “Should’ve listened, bonita.”

#jake lockley #jake lockley smut #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley one shot #moonknight #moonknight smut #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight one shot #smut #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader

[retrosabers]

you deserve to be loved.

marc spector x fem! reader (with mentions of steven grant)

summary: marc spector doesn’t do too well when it comes to his feelings.

warning: angst, swearing, brief mentions of blood/violence, khonshu (yes the bone pigeon most definitely deserves a warning)

word count: 3.3k

gif by @nowritingonthewall

a/n: this is my first oneshot/post on this blog! any feedback on my writing is greatly appreciated! i would also like to say that i’m not an expert on dissociative identity disorder, so if i misrepresented anything in this work, please let me know :)

arguments were routine after a mission.

it had become second nature for you and marc to have this seething disposition toward one another. quite odd for two people who claimed to be in love.

well, only one of you did, and that’s where the problem lied.

marc never opened up. he was like a fortress, completely closed off from anyone and anything. he was closed off from his own alter for god’s sake. he was an incredibly difficult man to get to know, and you were lucky to know him the way you did. not many people saw the softer side of marc spector.

it was the side you craved far too often. seeing that little bit of vulnerability from him was a luxury you would’ve sold your soul to afford. marc built his walls so high it was almost impossible to break them down. but brick by brick, you made your way into his heart, and planted yourself right in the center of it.

it was the most terrifying thing in the world for him. to a man who had so much blood on his hands, nothing compared to the weight that tugged on his heart strings every time you were around. it made him feel like a lovesick teenager to crave your presence, your innocence. he was a capital sinner and you were an angel sent straight from heaven. if he got too close, he was sure he would ruin you.

the two of you arrived back at your motel room in the late hours of the night. marc was covered in blood, simmering with anger as he took in your bruised form. the mission had gone completely haywire and you were stupid enough to get caught in the middle of it. that’s what he told himself, at least. it was easier to blame this failure on you entirely than to accept the fact that he was thrown off his game at the thought of you getting hurt.

khonshu had given him more than an earful about it. steven was quick to counter, but nothing could ease marc’s tired and overwhelmed mind. the only way he knew how to combat it was with anger, and it always lead to a screaming match that prompted a noise complaint.

“marc” you started. “look at me.”

his back remained facing you as he distracted himself with unpacking a duffel bag.

“marc.” this time your voice boomed louder. you didn’t miss the way the muscles in his back tensed. he was fighting it.

with two quick strides across the room, you grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. his hand clasped around your wrist before you could get him to budge.

“don’t.” he warned through gritted teeth.

“no!” you shouted, getting the ball rolling. “we need to talk about this.”

marc huffed. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

you let out a sarcastic chuckle, unamused at his poor attempt to diffuse the situation. “clearly there is marc, because you haven’t said two words to me since we set foot in this building.”

“what do you want me to say?” he snapped, finally meeting your gaze. “that you weren’t a complete fucking idiot out there? that everything went great? because it didn’t.”

“i’m not oblivious to the fact that things didn’t go as planned, okay? but you don’t need to throw a fit like a child because of it.”

“a fit?” he repeated. there was a darkness in his eyes that only appeared when he was on another level of seething. “is that what you think this is?”

you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “i’ve babysat enough kids in my lifetime to spot a tantrum from a mile away.”

something snapped inside him amd he was chucking a piece of glassware at the wall before he even realized it. the shattering noise sent a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch at the unexpected outburst. you were used to witnessing the more violent side of marc, but this was the first time it had ever been directed towards you.

“do you have any fucking idea what this is like?” he exclaimed, pointing a finger in your direction. “to do this? to have a mind that isn’t my own? to have choices that aren’t my own?”

you stood there, speechless. in all of your arguments, marc’s distaste for his work as an avatar never came up. it was new, unfamiliar territory, and you were unsure of how to tread. you went to walk towards him, but he shot you such a disgusted glance it made you nauseous. you retreated back to your position against the wall.

marc started pacing back and forth in the small living space, fingers running rampant through his dark curls. you wondered if steven had been trying to talk him down when his steps began to falter and he turned to face you.

“this can’t happen anymore.”

“so you’re benching me?”

he let out an exasperated sigh. “no.”

“then what is it marc?”

he hesitated for a moment. “this” he motioned back and forth between the two of you. “this, can’t happen anymore.”

your face dropped, heart thundering like a freight train in your chest as you struggled to find the words you wanted to say.

“i’m sorry about wha-”

“for christ’s sake it’s not about tonight” he interrupted. “it’s every day, it’s every waking second, it’s you.”

the edge of those last two words cut through you like the crescent shaped blades of the moonknight suit. there was such an unexpected venom behind them that had a lump forming in your throat. your relationship with the mercenary was far from perfect, but you thought the love you had for one another was strong enough to survive it. now, it was more than clear to you that the love was one sided.

except for the fact that it wasn’t. marc would’ve given you every corner of the earth and heaven above if that’s what you wanted. he would’ve burned it all down to the ground, he would’ve done anything to make you happy. to have you smile at him like he was a man worthy of your love. it was the only time he felt whole, when you looked at him like that, not like how you were looking at him now; a fractured version of the woman he fell in love with.

he had no one but himself to blame for the damage.

silent, hot tears, began streaming down your face as the two of you just stared at each other. it hurt more than if you were to scream and yell at him. marc was used to that; he had grown accustomed to the fighting. he never thought he would make you cry. the image of your betrayed expression would likely be burned into his memory forever.

he tried to convince himself it was better this way. that it was better for the both of you if he just walked out of your life. you’d be protected from the baggage he carried, and he wouldn’t have to face the music. marc was almost certain he could live with it until he heard steven’s accented voice ring in his head.

what the hell have you done?

every memory the two of you shared came rushing to the forefront of his mind. the first time he kissed you, when he finally opened up to you about his past, the first time you told him you loved him, all of it, came rushing through his brain like a dam about to burst. marc hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt a single tear cascade down his cheek.

your bottom lip quivered and an inescapable sob wracked through your body. your knees gave out as you collapsed onto the floor, hand clamped over your mouth in attempt to stifle your broken cries.

that was the last straw for marc. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gave the body to steven. he couldn’t take another minute of seeing you in that kind of emotional distress, especially knowing he was the cause of it.

as steven adjusted to having a physique again, he quickly made his way to you, crouching down to your level.

“are you alright?” he breathed, voice barely a whisper. all you could do was shake your head no, and in an instant he pulled you into an embrace.

this wasn’t the first time marc left steven to clean up his personal messes. oftentimes there were fights that left the two of you giving each other the silent treatment. marc was never ready to admit when he was wrong, so he instead gave the body to steven in efforts to transition into an apology. steven just had a way with you that he didn’t. there was a gentleness to him that no matter how much marc tried, he just didn’t have.

it was moments like these when he was grateful for it. he watched in the dusty mirror of the motel room as steven pushed himself against the wall, your face buried in the fabric of his shirt as you cried your eyes out. he ran a hand softly up and down your back while the other was carded in your hair, caressing your scalp. his lips were pressed tightly against the crown of your head, whispering apologies and muttering how marc didn’t really mean it. truly, steven wasn’t sure if he believed his own words

he shot marc a disappointed glare. as someone who was more often than not the mediator in your complicated relationship, he knew full well how infatuated marc became. you were all he could think about, and in turn, all steven could think about. he had grown to love you in the way that marc did, and it cut him to the core to see you in such a state.

steven was silently urging marc to make this right, because he had a gut feeling that if he didn't fix this now, that was it. you would walk out of both their lives completely. steven hoped you wouldn't, but he knew it was possible. you couldn't just live with those words, and he was cursed to share a face with marc. there's no way you could look at steven, and not immediately think of the man who hurt you the most.

marc was dancing around it. he knew that there was no way to take it back, he knew it the minute that cruel remark left his lips. now he was torn between further complicating it, or just cutting himself off. as his heart began to sink, a weight heavier than anything khonshu could've bestowed, he knew it was the latter.

he gave steven a nod in the mirror before reclaiming the body. this simple admission was far scarier than anything he had ever done before. three words that held more weight than any barrage of bullets could, and he still feared this would kill him quicker.

just get on with it mate. you know you love her.

the rubbing on your back halted and there was a change in posture. less relaxed. you knew marc had come back. you were quick to straighten yourself out and sit up. before you could get to your feet, marc's hand intertwined with yours.

to his surprise, you didn't move. you still couldn't look at him, but you didn't snatch your hand back and walk away. that had to have meant something, right? he clung to that small piece of hope as you lowered yourself back down to the floor.

he swallowed hard. his palms had grown incredibly sweaty and he hoped you didn't notice the way he wiped them on his jeans. marc opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he tried again, and again, but all that came out was an embarrassing collection of stuttering breaths.

"spit it out marc." you finally said, voice monotone.

he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. he was losing all resolve, and there was a genuine worry that he wouldn't be able to say it. for once, his unpredictable mind did him a favor as he was transported back to the night the two of you met.

it was a rainy evening in london. marc had been there to make sure everything was in tip top shape with steven's apartment. after having been gone for an extended period of time, he unfortunately forgot about gus, steven's fish, and rushed to the pet store to get a replacement. he spent majority of the day running odds and ends of errands and just wanted to relax. there was a quaint pub just a few blocks away. marc was sure that steven didn't keep any booze around, so he found himself trotting in the direction of the neon sign.

stupidly, he hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. he has been in and out of the city enough times to know the particularly gloomy skies. he grumbled to himself as he walked into the establishment, donned "the full moon", drenched from head to toe. uncomfortably, he slid onto a stool at the bar, and ordered a drink.

he was content with being alone, no one bothering to occupy the slightly damp seats on either side of him. it was a sense of peace, though temporary.

"how did you manage to forget an umbrella?"

marc was surprised to hear a soft voice from behind him. he turned to find you, standing a few feet away, eyeing him curiously.

"just didn't think to" he shrugged, sipping on his beer.

you snickered. "you must not be from around here."

normally he would've rolled his eyes and ignored whoever was bugging him, but there was something about you, as cliche as it was to admit. marc was relatively good at reading people before khonshu, but with the addition of another opinion inside his brain, he picked up on who was and wasn't a decent person fairly quickly. there was an energy about you he couldn't quite place.

likewise, there was something about marc that you were enthralled with. he was inarguably a very attractive man, and he carried a mysterious aura that surely made any woman swoon. you would've internally questioned anyone dumb enough to forget an umbrella in the constant dampness of london's weather, but your mouth acted before your mind did, and you found yourself in a quip with the handsome stranger.

you noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly at your deadpan. you headed for one of the empty seats beside him. he didn't object, and you took that as a victory. the two of you sat there in silence for a few moments, as he sipped away at his drink and your ordered one of your own.

"marc." he finally spoke, turning to face you. it was the first time you could get a clear look at his face. he had strong bone structure, almost god like, and there were small scars that littered his features. his dark irises held more depth than just the color. there was so much swimming behind them, and with the way he was looking at you, all you wanted to do was drown.

you gave him your name and the rest was history.

marc thought back to that night often. he thought about how he was torn between just staying in the apartment and going out. he thought about the fact that he had been considering going down a block further; that he would've missed you entirely. you were the one gift the universe offered him, and he almost didn't take it.

he thought about how easily that first conversation flowed out. the fact that you sat at the bar nursing those same drinks for three hours before either of you took note of the time. he thought about how you offered to walk back to the apartment with him, just so he wouldn't get wet again. marc replayed that moment at the door, over and over again, like a broken record.

"aren't you glad you agreed to let me walk you back here?" you teased, shaking the stray raindrops off your umbrella.

"i would've sufficed" he replied with a wave of his hand, but truly he was glad to have avoided feeling like a drowned rat for the second time today, and more importantly, it was more time soaking in your presence. he awkwardly fiddled in his pocket for the key, hoping you wouldn't ask to come back inside. it was a abnormal situation he really didn't want to explain to anyone, especially not a girl he was really hoping to see again.

you teetered back and forth on your feet anxiously. it was too much to expect him to invite you inside, right? i mean there was clearly no indication of this going further, and marc seemed like he was a busy man.

"well i better get going"  you finally spoke, easing some of the awkwardness out of the air. "i've got work tomorrow and i'm sure you do to."

marc looked to you again, half grateful and half disappointed. he snapped out of his temporary bliss.

"it's... complicated."

you gave him a cheeky grin.

"i can handle complicated."

the last line was what lingered in marc's mind as he sat on the floor of the motel room. somehow, it put together all the pieces of his scattered feelings. you had known, almost from the jump, that he wasn't easy. you knew that he wasn't like every other person on the street. you could tell just by being with him for a few hours that he was screwed up. yet you never faltered.

when he had told you about his duty as an avatar, you were surprisingly calm. confused, as to be expected, but you didn't run. you didn't bolt off into the distance, thinking he was absolutely insane for being indebted to an egyptian god.

marc was sure that would've been it when he told you about steven. it would've been the nail in the coffin and you would be gone. instead, you welcomed the idea of steven with open arms and treated him with the same love and care you did marc.

you were perfect. you were goddamn perfect and marc was so far from it was almost comical. he was unworthy of someone like you, and you deserved better than someone like him.

but there was those three goddamn words, and suddenly marc had uttered them breathlessly, like a whisper of a promise, that he would try and be better. there would be no more fighting, no more yelling, because he had finally caved.

marc spector could finally admit that he needed, cared for, and loved someone.

before he could say it again, your lips captured his in the most passion filled kiss the two of you ever shared. it was a different passion than the lust filled kisses you shared between the sheets. this kiss was an apology for every single time the two of you fought. it was a declaration that he was yours; completely and utterly yours for as long as you would have him.

tears pooled in your eyes again, but not from sadness, from relief. you were relieved that he had finally allowed himself to be human, and to feel all of the things he deserved to feel. he could finally see that he was worthy of being loved.

you pulled away from the kiss and rested your forehead against his. his calloused hands flew to your cheeks, caressing them softly, and wiping the tears away with his thumb.

"you deserved to be loved marc."

he let out the breath he had been holding ever since he returned to the body. the heaviness he normally carried in his chest vanished into the night.

"i deserve to be loved."

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x f!reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #moon knight #marc spector oneshot #steven grant one shot #moonknight one shot #marc spector fic #steven grant fic #moonknight fic #layla el faouly #oscar issac #marvel #poe dameron #star wars #writing #author #fanfiction

[devilish-mirage]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊

angst ⛈️ | 🍧 fluff

sexual theme ❤️‍🔥 | ❤️‍🩹 dark theme

Others 💫

pick your chambers

Moon Knights (2022)

Addiction ⛈️🍧 | Steven G.

You realize there's something more addicting than marijuana.

Heaven ❤️‍🩹 | Jake L.

They say, "all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you." and that's exactly what Jake did.

Him & I ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥 | Jake L.

In the end, the things that mattered was just you and him.

Habits ⛈️ | Marc S.

He always comes back no matter how much he act as if he hates you.

Blessing in Disguise ⛈️❤️‍🔥🍧 | Marc S.

He came back just as you expected him to do but this time he's not here to get his wound treated.

Can't Remember to Forget You 🍧 | MK boys.

No matter how long time has passed Marc can't seem to forget you and you feel the exact same thing.

Serendipity series ⛈️❤️‍🔥🍧 | MK boys.

In which you accidentally sent your nudes to your cute co-worker then things started to take a turn.

Jealousy ❤️‍🔥 | Marc S.

You love that look on his face. You must say, jealousy has never looked this good on a person until you've seen it on his face.

Lucky 🍧 | Marc S.

Marc gotta keep his hand to himself but how could he when you looked like that?

Gray 🍧 | Steven G.

The color gray reminded you of Steven but in the best way possible.

Summertime sadness 🍧⛈️ | MK boys.

It's a lovely evening and Marc decided to reminisce about the past with you.

Cute 🍧 | Steven G.

A boring night at the inventory with Steven somehow turned into a rather interesting row of events when you discovered just how easily flustered your co-worker really is.

Marc's gift box 🍧❤️‍🔥 | Marc S.

Marc had planned to spend the night with you in a wonderful romantic dinner at your favorite restaurant and you decided to gave him a pink box with a small remote inside as a present.

Layla ⛈️ | Marc S.

You've loved him for many years, and can't help but wished that you were her because she's got him mesmerized while you die.

Drabble bubble

Not so innocent ❤️‍🩹 | Jake L.

No one knows about this side of yours, well, that is until he found out.

Scrunchie 🍧 | Jake L.

Your hair is distracting you but you're glad someone has noticed it too.

Dangerous ❤️‍🩹 | MK boys.

They were captured but they looked at ease, well that's because you've got their back.

Avatar (2009/2022)

Drabble bubble

Tell me you hate me 💫 | Neteyam S.

You despise that man but why is your body betraying you?

Mira's brainrot

Moon knight's fantasy AU

If you wanted to be added to the taglist leave a comment or dm me, also don't forget to reblog!

#mira writes shts #miras's brainrot #mira's thoughts #masterlist #moonknight masterlist #moonknight one shot #moonknight drabble #avatar drabble

[frostironfudge]

i want to write for steven and marc but i'm worried about the correct terminology to be used if anyone has any fic recs with proper terms being used or a post with proper guidance please send it my way! I'd appreciate the help!

thank you!

#moon knight #moonknight one shot #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #fic recs

[jordanemb]

meeting steven grant

summary: you meet steven grant while tourning the museum

steven grant x fem!reader

warnings: none 

word count: 

note: this is the first time i’ve written and published something on here so please go easy :)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The chime of the entrance to the museum echoed in your ears as you were met with the light blow of the cool air conditioning, contrasting the hot summer day. 

You had just broken up with your boyfriend over the weekend and decided that you needed some alone time to recover yourself. You had recently lost feelings for him and decided that it was finally time to move on, to start dating again. 

The entrance of the museum was bleak and you were greeted by a security guard, sitting behind a wall of computer screens. You were surprised at the intensity of the security measures. 

You continued walking through the museum, not paying attention to anything in particular, as you stumbled to an Ancient Egyptian exhibit. After everything that had just been in the news about the events in Cairo, you decided that it would be a good idea to look around the exhibit. 

You walked into the room and noticed that you were the only one in there. You honestly found it peaceful that you could admire the history alone. The walls were filled with beautiful hieroglyphics and there were many ancient relics in the room. It was honestly beautiful.  

Suddenly, you heard the doors behind you open, followed by the sound of many chattering people. 

“Okay, here we are,” you heard a distinct British accent, one of which you assumed was the tour guide. 

“You guys are in for a real treat,” he continued, walking around one of the statues, finally entering your line of sight. 

This tour guide was very tall and had dark, curly hair. He had a large nose and peppered stubble on his face. His eyes were sunken and dark. This was one of the most beautiful men that you had seen. 

You quietly joined the group of tourists, entranced by the man leading the tour. 

Once the tour finally ended, you gathered yourself to introduce yourself to him, however, he was no where to be found. This upset you that you weren’t able to properly meet him, but you resolved that there are many more hot British men in the world and one day you will find your match. 

As you turned to leave the exhibit, you bumped into something, more like someone, hard. You felt a pair of arms steady you out and heard the low voice of the man who had just been leading the tour.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” he whispered. 

You were so embarrassed, but finally decided to look up at his face, making eye contact with him for the first time. You felt as if time had stopped when you looked up at him and felt the electricity between the both of you. 

“It’s alright, it was completely my fault,” you managed to spit out. 

The man gave you a warm smile, scanning you up and down. 

After what felt like an eternity, he realized that he was still holding on to your waist and quickly let go, becoming flustered. 

“I-I’m Steven,” he stuttered in the most adorable accent.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied, giddy with excitement because you were finally talking to the man you had been enthralled with for the entirety of your visit to the museum. 

“What brings you here?” he asked, attempting to start a conversation in the middle of the Ancient Egypt exhibit. 

“Well, I have recently been gifted free time and thought that I should spend the day by myself and I had seen the news about Cairo, so I decided to come visit the Ancient Egypt exhibit,” you responded quickly. 

“Oh...” he trailed off, a guilty look taking over his face. He quickly recovered his composure, but before he could say anything else, you asked him, “Is everything alright?”

“Of course,” he gave a fake smile, “I’m just happy that I am talking to you,”

“Oh?” you asked.

“Well, this is kind of awkward, but I noticed you in the room when I began my tour and was hoping to talk to you after. I guess fate literally brought us together when we ran into each other,” his British accent becoming more prominent through his rambling. 

This made you feel so happy and warm on the inside because the both of you were thinking the exact same things about each other. 

“I actually thought that too,” you smiled up at him again. 

A beat of silence passed until he said, “Well, I better get going, I have another tour starting in a few minutes, but what do you say we grab a bite together later tonight, I would love to get to know you?” he asked, looking very nervous.

“I would love that,” you chuckled, smiling as hard as you have in a long time. 

You watched Steven give you another smile, unable to stop smiling, he said, “Alright, well, laters gators,” while walking out of the room. 

You let out a chuckle as you waited a few seconds before exiting the room as well, your heart warm and your stomach filled with butterflies as you went home to get ready for a new chapter in your life. 

#marvel #steven grant one shot #steven grant #moonknight #moonknight one shot #one shot #fluff #steven grant fluff

[whoreish-behaviour]

Steven Grant + Marc Spector x Reader

Warnings >~< = Hair pulling, mild brat taming

Not proof read

Shutting your eyes, you attempted to breathe normally - anger radiating off you in waves as you sat criss cross on the sofa - gaming controller almost on the brink of breaking in your tight grip.

It's just a game, it's just a game, its-

Marc's scolding words repeating in you head as you (forcefully) dropped the controller on the floor, the satisfying sound of the plastic doing little to ease your frustration.

'Just a game.' You murmured, shutting your eyes momentarily so you didn't have to keep staring at the DEFEAT! on the tv screen.

However, as soon as you reopened them - the anger flew right back.

'Fucking assholes! Spamming the same controls doesn't make you a better player-.' You rambled, face flushing as you felt yourself getting worked up.

'And my stupid fucking team, like seriously-'

'Darlin’?'

You snapped your mouth shut at the sudden voice of Steven, turning your head to look at where he was stood by the front door. He was dressed in his usual oversized attire, brows pinched together.

'You okay there?' His voice was soft, head tilting in that adorable way when he was unsure.

You pursed your lips, one side of you knowing that you should just take your loss and move on. But, you couldn't shake it off, it was too fresh.

'I'm fine.' You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the sofa as you looked back to the tv.

DEFEAT! PRESS 'X' TO CONTINUE

You heard Steven's footsteps as he migrated through his apartment, the sound of something heavy dropping on the counter before the tapping of his shoes made their way to you.

You felt slightly stupid for staring at the unmoving tv screen but made no move to change the channel or start a new game.

You felt him loom over you from behind, hand coming up to rub the top of your head lovingly.

'Aw darling, you know its-'

'I know Steven.' You yourself almost winced at the bite in your tone.

He didn't respond, a pregnant pause hanging in the air before he gently removed his hand from your head.

'Okay, well let me know if you-'

'Uh huh.' You cut him off, the rush of being an utter brat going straight to your head.

While Steven was sweet, you also knew that he loved to ring you back and put you in your place - problem was that it took a long time before that switch would set off inside him.

Giving you the perfect open window to let your frustration spew with no consequences.

Uncrossing your arms, you leaned forward and away from Steven to reach for the remote - lips set in a pout.

You weren't expecting the tight grip your hair was succumbed to, fist unforgiving as you were yanked back to your original position, back flat against the sofa.

'That any way to talk to Steven pretty girl?'

You swallowed thickly at the sound of Marc's unmissable American accent, throat bobbing at the sudden nerves racking your body.

'Hm?' He probed, hand pulling your hair even more taught as he leaned down into your space, running his nose over you jaw and then down to your neck.

Your body immediately shut down, Marc's intimidation and dominance usually having that effect on you.

'And now you're ignoring me, just digging yourself a deeper hole.' He reprimanded, using his hold on your hair to give himself more access to your neck.

'I'm sorry.' Your voice was quiet and meek, complete opposite to your earlier coldness.

Shutting your eyes, you accepted your fate when you felt him chuckle into you - lips brushing your skin and making you feel like an exposed nerve.

'No you’re not.' He pulled away, cold air cooling your warming skin.

You gasped, eyes shooting open when the hand in you hair somehow tightened, pulling your head back until it was rested over the edge of the sofa, Marc's displeased upside down face coming into view.

'But you will be sweet girl.'

#moon knight #marc spector smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moonknight smut #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #mr knight #khonshu #moonknight #brat taming #jake lockely x you #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #moon knight system #marc spector moon knight #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #steven grant one shot #part 2?

[jake-g-lockley]

The Anonymous Annotator (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!! then a heated "kiss me." and suddenly their hands are all over each other

Warning: MDNI, dom!Steven, sub!reader, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, dry humping, cockwarming (if you squint), nipple play 

A/N: Ok so I was watching MK again, as one does and I realized I want more of the Steven who talked back to Marc before he and Layla went to explore the tomb, so here is Steven being a little shit, cuz that's hot. Forget everything you know about sweetie Steven, k bye. 

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You sat in your dorm listening to music when you heard a knock on your door. You jumped up and opened the door, only to find a mysterious package on your doormat. It was wrapped in brown paper and had your name scrawled on it with messy handwriting. You rushed to your bed and pulled the string, tearing open the paper, revealing one of your spicier books that you hid under your bed, making your eyes widen. 

You frantically threw yourself off the bed to check under the bed and to your absolute horror, the book wasn't there. You spread your legs in front of you and pulled the book from the top of your bed and flipped to the front page, where the same handwriting blossomed. 

“To the one who’s eyes make the stars feel shy.” 

You flipped through the pages and found every bit of white space was covered in intricately detailed annotations. Your face heated up and you spent the next few hours reading how the mysterious annotator would alter the events of the books to make it more suitable for you. You gulped at the small smiley faces that would mark the end of the most crude sentences that you had ever laid your eyes on. 

“Where would you like my hands, sweet angel? Around your wrists, while I watch your tits bounce around while I thrust myself into you? Around your thighs, when I pin you down as you squirm against my face when my tongue carves my name out in your wetness? Around your neck, to see whether you’d be able to resist the urge to cum around my cock without me even moving a single muscle? :)”

It was seductive, and you were absolutely tantalised by the idea that you had a secret admirer. Suddenly, you can’t think about anything else but sex. 

“I wonder if I could fold you over like this, cover you with my spend after I’ve fucked you like a pathetic toy, leaning all of my body weight against you to whisper more things that could cause your pussy to clench around nothing.”

Every word, every phrase that was etched into the pages of the book in pencil burned coarsely against your skin and mind. 

“I think the protagonist could totally do better here. I’d love to hear your pretty noises as I devour you whole, to watch you come apart from my touch would be a blessing like no other.” 

You feel a warm pulsing somewhere below as you try taking deep breaths, trying to control the urges that rushed through your body. You rub your thighs together and you are suddenly hyper aware of your body’s changes, your skin feeling prickly, your breasts feeling uncomfortably trapped under your bra.

“Hah, rearranging her guts? I’d rearrange your brain chemistry just with my fingers in your sweet tight cunt.”

The warm tingling pulsation of your clit and increasing wetness and builds up from there, to the point of frustration where you have trouble thinking about anything other than your complete desire to be filled by the person who had taken the time to write all of their unrefined and vulgar thoughts on paper. 

“I’d let you sit and warm my cock for hours with you reading this over and over, till your eyes get tired and your cunt puls-”

Suddenly, your phone rang and you snapped out of whatever trance you were in, realising that it was your alarm for your class. You shook your head and slammed the book shut, throwing it into your bag, leaping up to leave your dorm.  

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You chewed your inner cheek as you tried to listen to the lecturer, nervously tapping the table to calm your mind. 

“Quit the tapping, dumbass, I can’t focus.” hissed the person beside you.

You rolled your eyes and turned to glare at Steven Grant, third year Egyptology student and your No.1 academic rival. Pity the fact that he was such a pretty boy because he was sometimes just a sarcastic cunt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger a little longer at the silhouette of his side profile, your sight grazing down the beautiful curve of his nose and settling on the plump of his lips.

Steven knew you were staring but didn’t say a word. His eyes were trained on the lecturer before him and he was quite positive that the lecturer was going to call you out any second now.

“Is there something more interesting about Mr. Grant’s face?” you heard the lecturer call out to you and you tore your gaze away from Steven and looked horrifyingly at her.

Steven bit his bottom lip and tried not to smirk as you slowly stood up from your seat. 

“Uh, no Ms. he, umm,” you tried to speak but your mind was jumbling at the thought of being caught and called out all in one second.

“Sit down! And eyes on the board, young lady, I want your focus here as your grades have been steadily declining.” the lecturer said before turning back to the board.

Your face was flushed and your hands were shaking. You could literally feel the smugness radiating off Steven and you gritted your teeth and stared forward, determined to keep your eyes on the board. For the past few weeks, you had been plagued with the mysterious book annotator and your focus had been slipping. You found yourself searching far and wide for the person’s likeness but you never seemed to catch the person anywhere near you. 

Finally the class was dismissed and you quickly gathered all your things and practically sprinted for the exit when you heard your lecturer call your name. You turned to see Steven speaking to your lecturer and sweat beaded at your palms, knowing you were in deep shit today.

“Mr. Grant here has agreed to tutor you, with the promise that you would make proper grades this semester.” your lecturer said and you glared at Steven who had a sweet, innocent smile on his face. 

“Your tutoring sessions are whenever Mr. Grant is free and you are to focus, alright?” you hated the way the lecturer was speaking to you but you purse your lips and nodded. 

“My place, 8 pm today.” Steven whispered and you grimaced but nodded.

Steven eyed the book that poked out of your bag as you quickly walked away and smirked to himself. 

“If she doesn’t have the brains to figure it out herself…”

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“No look, that happened before this, you’re getting the timelines mixed up!”

“I’m getting the timelines mixed up? What about you? Did you write this goddamn book, Steven?” 

You knew how this was going to go down, you and Steven arguing away about the stupidest misunderstanding. Your pride made it hard to back down as Steven tried teaching you, and you could tell that he was genuinely trying from the way he pulled out his own flashcards to help you. You couldn’t admit defeat, not to Steven Grant. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, pushing your knuckles into your eyes and counting from one to ten before looking up at Steven again. 

“Come on, it's not that hard.” Steven tried justifying as he flipped through the cards again.

“It’s fucking difficult Steven, stop sounding so fucking smart.” you groan.

“You’re not that fucking stupid either, I just need you to focus.” Steven chastised you, slightly more gently this time.

“I’d probably focus better if you didn’t make such a hot fucking teacher.” you hissed under your breath as you flipped the page angrily.

“What?” Steven whispered.

“You heard me.” you snapped, glaring at him. “You know, you’d probably teach me better if you stopped giving me those big ‘fuck me’ eyes either. Like what? You want me to kiss you or something?” 

You were definitely losing your shit as Steven inhaled a sharp breath of air. Suddenly, everything happened so quickly that you didn’t have the time to register the book being ripped out of your hands and soft plump lips settling against your own. It was a soft kiss at first, testing, unsure, but when you began to move your lips against his, it became more passionate as he pulled you onto his lap without a second thought. 

It took you long enough to push past your primal urges to realise that you were kissing Steven Grant. You snapped out of it and pushed him away, only to see his flushed face, swollen lips and half lidded eyes. It switched on something in you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close once again as your lips began another dance with his. His hands were on your hips as he pushed your clothed core against him, groaning into your mouth. 

“Fuck, Steven, what’s happening?” you whisper against his forehead as he trailed kisses along your cheek and jaw, making your muscles buzz with anticipation. 

“Let it happen, love.” he moaned against your neck as you pressed yourself onto his hardening member again. 

Your hands found his soft hair and you pulled him closer as he began to suck softly at the soft skin of your neck. One of his huge hands palmed at your tits through your tank top, twisting at your hardening sensitive bud and you arched your back, whining and leaning towards your source of pleasure. 

“Love your pretty noises. Don’t stop.” Steven softly encouraged you as he continued to play with your nipple, your mind racing into overdrive.

There was a familiar throb that bloomed inside of you at Steven’s words as something finally clicked. Steven must have sensed the shift too as he smirked darkly against your neck, instantly biting down so that he could drag you away from saying what you needed to say.

“Bloody hell, unngh, it was you.” you managed to say as Steven pushed you against his hardening erection.

“Mhm.” Steven moaned as he licked a long strip up your neck to your ear, kissing the shell of your ear softly.

Every part of you felt sensitive, all tuned towards Steven. You had the sudden urge to be filled and you rutted yourself over and over against him, as if begging him to know what you actually needed. 

“Is it okay if I touch you like this?" His question was spoken lowly, as if he didn’t want to break the fragile veil that was forming over the both of you. 

“Yes, please, mngh, why didn’t you tell me sooner…” you whimpered as his hand grabbed your ass, kneading it softly as his fingers dug through your shorts, trying to feel your skin. 

“Wanna taste you so bad.” he murmured as his lips met yours again.

You were lost for words as the pages and pages of vulgarity blinded your eyes, making you squeeze them shut as you suddenly feel Steven pick you up. You were now lying on a bed, his bed, staring up at the mysterious annotator who had been plaguing your mind with absolute filth and filling your dreams with sweet wet melodies that cursed you throughout your waking life. 

“I bet you know the things I’d like to do to you, my sweet angel.” He said, trailing both of his hands down from your shoulders to the top of your tank top. 

“But you’re supposed to be-”

“Sweet Steven Grant who only cares about his studies? Oh please, darling, let me catch a break.” He ripped your tank top with surprising strength, leaving you bare for him. 

His darkened iris dragged themselves down your body, painting you with their own poetry that could not be described using words in the English dictionary. He pulled his sweater off himself and you gulped at how defined he looked. This shouldn’t be attractive. You shouldn’t be attracted to your rival. You shouldn’t be attracted to the guy who stole one of your private possessions and spilled all of his blasphemous thoughts on it before slyly returning it.

“Wanted to do this since the first day I laid my eyes on you. Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl until I got ahold of one of your books, love.” He said into your chest and you gasped at his confession, your brain still trying to comprehend everything.

Steven had your head out of your books for weeks and now he had his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard as you cried his name and pushed his head against you. You desperately needed him to quiet your mind with his tongue and you wanted it so bad that you were already shaking under him. His fingers hooked at your waistband and your hands join him there and the both of you slowly pull your shorts off you.

Steven felt up your thighs, telling you how soft you are, how nice and warm your thighs are and how they’re so pretty, whilst burying his her head in your shoulder and neck, lightly panting and nuzzling you. His hand slowly slid to your mound as he started peppering small kisses along your collarbone. His fingers grazed your hardening nub between your legs as you clench your legs together and turned your head to the side. One of his legs wrenched yours open and pinned you down, sliding his fingers through your wet swollen folds, groaning against you.

“Inside Steven” He obeys, pushing one finger inside and pumping it slowly, bringing his face up to watch your expressions contort beautifully on your face.

You throbbed and twitched around him, your cunt responding beautifully to his touch as his thumb rubs soft circles around your clit. Steven adjusted himself and now had been grinding down his erection on your thigh, throwing his head back at the feeling of your warm wet cunt. Quick breathy moans filled the air as they mingled together and you could barely differentiate yours and Steven’s from the heavy ringing in your ears. 

“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you to be.” he whispers and you sigh.

Suddenly his hands are off you and you whine at the loss of touch but it quickly morphed into a moan as Steven’s tongue flicked at your clit. He was so worked up that he pushed his entire face into your already wet cunt and breathed in deeply, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head. He started fucking you with his tongue, thrusting the flexible muscle in and out of you with accurate precision that had you writhing around. He pushed two fingers into you easily and started pushing them in and out as he latched himself onto your clit. Your cries were getting louder and more uncontrollable now as you found yourself heading towards your first clift of the night

“Shut the fuck up and listen, Listen to how fucking wet you are, how fucking wet you are for me.” Steven says, going shallow at first so that you could hear all the sloppy, vulgar noises that your cunt was making.

Your face was heating up and you tried to hide behind your hands but Steven wrenched your hands away, gripping them in a lock as he now pushed in deeper, deeper, going knuckle deep, finding the spots that make you shake, make you quiver.

“Come on baby, I can feel you close, you’ve already made such a huge mess around my face and hands, go ahead and cum.” with that Steven’s mouth was back on you as you hurtle past your pleasure, pussy tightly clenching around his fingers as Steven lapped up all of your spend before it could wet the bed beneath you. 

He slowly massaged your tit as you came down from your high, twitching slightly as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and started to suck them clean, moaning at the taste of you and giving you a show that you didn’t know you needed. 

You look up at Steven when he was done, your eyes big and wide as a question sits on your tongue. Steven nodded and your eyes dropped to the tent between his legs. 

"Can I touch?" you ask softly, keeping yourself from palming him through his sweats. 

"Touch what, darling?" Steven asked, making your face heat up again.

“Your cock, Steven, please.” you decided to say please anyway, before he had any forethought to tease you any longer. 

Steven flops down beside you and gestures at his crotch and you take it as a sign to undress him. You tug his sweats down along with his boxers and his cock pops out slapping against his abdomen. You lick your lips and grab ahold of him, feeling him in your hands. You kneel next to him and spit on your hand, taking his cock and starting to pump him up and down as his head lolled back onto the pillow. 

You take the tip in your mouth, just sucking on it gently. You let your tongue drag over it, smearing pre cum all over the tip as your hand continues to slowly pump him up and down. Suddenly your mouth is around him and you start sucking, driven by the noises that Steven started making. His hand was soon in your hair as he involuntarily started pushing you to take more and more of him and you obliged, swallowing around him as his tip grazed the back of your throat. 

“Gods, I didn’t know your mouth could work like this. If I knew earlier, I could use my cock to shut you up whenever I please.” Steven moans and you rolled your eyes and licked the underside of his shaft, making his cock twitch. 

Soon, you had him properly squirming against you as you bounced your head up and down his shaft. His hands were suddenly at the back of your head as he pulled you off him, spit trailing from your mouth to his dick as you took big gulps of air. 

“Need to be inside you.” he mumbles as he gently takes your arms and pulls you towards him for a bruising kiss. 

You straddled him, settling your pussy against his spit soaked cock, making him moan against your lips. You pulled away to watch his facial expression as he moved his cock to prod at your entrance. You sunk down slowly and Steven watched as your cunt swallowed him up whole, tipping his head back again as the both of you hissed from the fullness. You folded your legs behind Steven and he nestled his head against your bare breasts, inhaling your scent. He pushed himself slightly forward so that he would have enough space to fuck up into your cunt. 

And that's what he did. 

With small shallow strokes, Steven began to thrust up into your warm cunt, moaning at your tightness and feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of you around him. It was true, he’d wanted you ever since he laid eyes on you. He thought you were the most fascinating human beings he had ever met and loved the passion that flowed through you. But you were one smart cookie, beating him in every test, acing everything that made you triumphantly yell at his face. 

Sure, he wanted you to fall back a little bit and he taught himself how to gain control over you. One day, that control came upon him in the form of one of your books. He wasn’t surprised that you would read something like this, his mouth forming into a grin as the evil thoughts began to fill his mind. He jotted them down in your book and one morning, decided that it would be a good idea to deliver the book to you, setting it down at your front door and walking away quickly. 

How you didn’t notice his handwriting for weeks absolutely baffled him. He knew you were smarter than that and suddenly he realised that he’d indirectly gotten you in a chokehold. You were frantic, searching around, trying to find the person who had an iron grip around you when the person was right beside you. Part of him felt guilty when your grades started dropping and he really was going to teach you today, but your mind was clearly elsewhere. 

He snapped his hips against your ass a little harder, your face buried in his curls, moaning into his scalp. He tilted his own head up and kissed a soft spot at the bottom of your chin, making you giggle slightly. It was incredibly intimate, being in this position with Steven, but you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was doing this for his own benefit. Steven could feel your breathing change and he stopped, bringing himself to your eye level as the both of you panting softly, breathing in each other’s air from the close proximity. 

“Love?” 

“Do you really want me, Steven, or are you just doing this to have a one up on me?”  you say, trying to find a comfortable position as Steven was buried in you up to the hilt. 

Guilt began to pour over Steven’s head and he sighed, pushing your hair away from your face and taking a good look at you.

“I really want you, darling. I know my methods are questionable, but oh, I wanted you and still want you so bad.”  he said, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I’m still mad at you Steven, for making my grades drop .” you stay sternly, combing your hands through his unruly locks and dragging them to his face, tracing all of its sharp edges as his eyes flutter close. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the man before you and his words truly did turn you on. They were etched deep into your mind as you read them over and over whilst your hand was between your legs, trying hard to picture the person who had spilled all of their sins onto the pages of the books. Now you had your picture in front of you and the picture was beautiful. 

“But I can’t help but want you too.” you whispered and his worried face morphed to one of pure bliss as he relaxed, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“So, you’re going to have to make it up to me by fucking me like you promised in your writings. Okay?” you whisper against his soft breaths and he chuckled as his cock throbbed impatiently inside of you, causing you to moan. 

Steven immediately flipped you over and claimed your lips with his again, drawing his hips back and slamming into you with so much force that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He began to thrust in and out with his own rhythm picking up speed. A calm, deep growl, and soft grunt filled your ears with each increasingly deep thrust inside you as Steven quite literally started railing you into the bed. 

Your cunt spasmed around his length and a primal craving snapped inside of Steven as his thrust became more and more powerful. He took in deep breaths, becoming high on your pheromones as you moaned his name over and over, until it started to sound like garbled garbage. He loved the way his cock stretched you out and he loved the way you were taking all of him, your whimpers spurring him on as he watched your tits jiggle. 

He grabbed your legs and folded you over, the new angle making you sob at how intense the pleasure was. Steven pushed himself against you and the sting you felt throughout your body as well as the constant thrust of Steven’s cock pushed you over the edge again with the help of his thumb at your clit. You came, squeezing Steven as tight as you possibly could. Steven felt himself collapse against you as he could only roll his hips and grind against you, your pussy sucking him in and keeping him there as he tried to help you ride out your high. 

Steven finally let himself relax as he used you for his own release, fighting against the muscles of your pussy as his cock twitched intensely. He pulled out of you and slammed into you a few more times, before releasing his own pent up spend into you, painting your walls with his seed as he rode out his own high. 

Steven let go of your legs and slumped against you, his whole body going absolutely limp from fucking you like a mad man. You pressed a small kiss on his temple and whispered a thank you into his ear as he floated back down to earth, his head pounding from the intensity of his release. 

“I’ve got more books, if you want to ruin them with your filth.” you said softly, earning a chuckle from Steven.

“Only if you focus and let me teach you, love.”

“Yada yada, fine, Professor Grant.” you say jokingly, but gulped when you felt Steven hardening inside you again.

“Hmm, looks like someone wants round two.” 

You were definitely done for now. 

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @celiaswife @violet-19999 @melodygatesauthor @romanarose

#steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #jakeglockley asks #steven grant moon knight #moon knight smut #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant fluff #dom!steven grant #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x you #steven grant one shot #moon knight fluff #moonknight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfic #moon knight headcanon #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x fem!reader #oisaacedit #oisaac #oscar isaac characters #marc spector smut #jake lockley smut

[spacecowboyhotch]

Unlikely

summary: a look into how marc and reader met.

pairing: gn!reader x marc spector

contents: boxing, flirting, kissing, discussions of DID, fluff

an: this is the companion piece to this fic, and serves as a prequel to it. there won’t be any interaction between marc and steven, though marc will be thinking about steven. gif credits are @moonknightyws. you could say marc is ooc for being this open or maybe he’s so into reader he doesn’t have a choice <3

word count: 1.4k

mcu masterlist

One question is what starts it all: “Are you always this pissed off?”

You’ve been warming up a few punching bags down from the man with tan skin, a set jaw, and furrowed brows who could probably rip his own punching bag in half if he wanted to. You’ve seen him before, too many times if you’re being honest and your curiosity finally gets the best of you. You ask him this question, deadpanned but he catches the slightest bit of humor in your eyes before turning away. He’s not sure why he answers.

“Yes,” He huffs, landing another crushing blow to the punching bag he’s pummeling.

“Violence isn’t as cathartic as it once was. In fact, it can make things worse.”

He gets it and he doesn’t. Marc knows that he’s attractive, that he can attract attention, good and bad. You’re flirting with him, or maybe just trying to make a friend but only he knows that you’ve chosen the wrong person. The wrong persons. There’s too much of everything pent up in his body, some of it not even his own.

He should let you go. He should be incredibly rude to you and let you go. Typical he could, he would, but there’s something different about you already. But, there’s too much in the way. Khonshu’s requirements. Steven’s eventual return.

He can’t help but think about how good Steven would be to you if he could get his shit together. Maybe you could help Steven get his shit together. Maybe you could help both of them get their shit together. Maybe the pain wouldn’t suffocate him if he had someone like you, soft and helpful by his side. But, he really should scare you away.

He tries and fails to keep the edge in his voice, though he’s still got his face set in that glare, “What would you suggest then?”

You lean against the punching bag that’s now just slightly swaying, “Do you like fried chicken?”

If he wasn’t so tense he’d laugh at your question, “Yes.”

You treat him to a smile, it’s bright, sweet, and a little mischievous, “Music?”

“Sure,” He answers slowly with narrowed eyes.

“Water?”

The answer to that is complicated, but he doesn’t want to get into that right now. Or ever. He feels inclined to answer honestly, “Depends.”

“There’s this food truck festival on the weekends, down by the water.”

“That’s what you’re suggesting as a defuser?” He sounds skeptical, insulted even but you’re persistent.

“You might actually enjoy yourself instead whatever this is. I mean you come here at least twice a week to beat the shit out of this bag. The same one every time, you don’t even give the poor thing a break.”

“I don’t think you have any room to talk, that means you’re here just as often as me.”

“I’m here for my fitness, and you’re here to…”

“Beat the shit out of this bag,” He provides and you laugh, making his chest fill with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Like I said, you might enjoy yourself doing something other than that.”

He shakes his head, and his eyes almost grow somber, “It’s unlikely.”

“We could wager something,” You suggest, hoping that maybe a bet will get him to open up. With the way you’ve seen him train, you assume he likes to win, even at the little things.

“I’m not sure there’s anything I want from you.”

“Aren’t things we’re not sure of worth exploring?” You challenge, your tongue flicking out over your bottom lip.

Your words earn the smallest of smirks from him and he gives you a tight nod, “I’ll go with you.”

“Fantastic. I’m (Y/N),” You offer him your hand and he takes it, shaking firmly.

“Marc.”

___

The bet that turned into a date was 4 months ago, and now Marc wakes up in your bed at least twice a week. It was impossible to stay away from you, your laugh is infectious, your eyes saccharine.

For the first time in a long time, regardless of the circumstances, Marc feels safe. Safe enough to be honest with you about Steven. It’s hard to describe but he can recognize the signs. As the pressure from Khonshu grows, the more he thinks about his past. It means that Steven can pop out of the woodwork at any time to grant him some reprieve.

The two of you are laying in his bed for a change on a Saturday morning. As always you’re in his clothes, they’re worn and smell like him, it’s what you prefer.

He sits up in bed, his face set into that signature deep glare, “You trust me right?”

“Of course, I trust you,” You answer quickly with no doubts, but Marc hesitates, breaking eye contact for just a moment. It’s not something he does often, and the extra edge in his voice lets you know something is up. You sit up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“There are some things you need to know for this to work. It’s complicated, that's why I don’t do this but I…” He looks away, running his hand up and down your bare thigh. “I trust you and I want this to work so I have to tell you this.”

“Marc, the last thing I want is for you to do something you’re not ready for. If this is too much, if I’m too much, then just be honest with me.”

His expression softens into this tender look you never thought he’d be capable of, “You being too much is the last thing on my mind. It’s the opposite.”

“You’re not too much. A little intense, but I like that about you.”

There’s a long pause as Marc thinks about the way to do this. He decides that ripping off the bandaid is the best option. Whether it goes well or not, being direct will bring this conversation to resolution quicker.

He blows out a deep breath before speaking, “There’s more than just me.”

You lean back to get a good look at him, “What do you mean?”

“In my head, there’s more than just me,” He repeats.

“Like a different voice? A different personality?”

He shakes his head, “A completely different person. His name is Steven.”

You get that look on your face that indicates you’re processing and he lets you sit in peace, his anxiety heightening as each second passes. You know he’s being serious, Marc’s not one to bullshit so you think it through slowly, accepting the information. There’s not much else you can do, not when you feel so deeply for him. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re falling in love with him. You know he’s not ready to hear that, but it’s true.

A question pops into your mind, “Has he always been there?”

“No.”

Marc doesn’t offer any more information about Steven’s origin and he doesn’t look like he wants to, so you propose a different question, “What’s he like?”

A soft, almost fond smile spreads across his face, “He’s gentle. And a nerd.”

“One could argue that you’re a nerd with all your…gadgets,” You gesture to his piles of electronic equipment and he rolls his eyes.

“I am not a nerd.”

“If you say so,” You put your hands up in defeat when he gives you a look. “So, tell me more about him.”

“He’s British.”

“He’s British?” You repeat, with a raised eyebrow.

“And he’s the reason I have that stupid fucking fish,” Marc nods his head over to the tank, rolling his eyes.

”Hey, I love that stupid fucking fish,” You attempt to push him back into bed with your hands but he’s quicker and stronger, gripping your hand and pulling you into his lap where you gladly get comfortable. “When will I get to meet him?”

“It’s hard to say. He has a mind of his own,” He pinches your thigh playfully when you giggle at his accidentally play-on-words, “That is not a pun, don’t laugh.”

His grumpiness makes you laugh harder, and he falls back into the bed wrapping both of his arms around you until you’re finished.

“Marc?” You peer up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“Hmm?” He hums, bending down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Thank you for feeling like you could tell me.”

“Don’t get sappy,” His eyes betray what he says, full of a soft, hazy affection.

You take his words as permission to do something else with your lips and wiggle up his body until you can kiss him. His lips are firm and urgent, his arms tightening around you as he thrusts his tongue into your mouth to claim it. Ready and willing you submit to him, letting him kiss you as hungrily as he wants to, trapped in his arms. There’s no place you’d rather be.

if you’d like to be on my moonknight taglist let me know!

mcu taglist: @laurensprentiss, @angelfxllcm, @in-between-the-cafes, @honeybrowne, @ninebluehearts, @jitterbugs927, @later-gators12

#gn!reader x marc spector #marc spector x gn!reader #reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #moonknight x reader #marc spector one shot #marc spector fluff #moonknight one shot #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight fan fiction #arson writes marvel

[heartsfromjeanee]

Just a Snap(chat) Away

Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: Jake discovers what Snapchat is and asks for your help to use it. With every pic he sends, you never know what to expect.

Warnings: implied smut!

If you were being totally honest, you weren’t sure if explaining to Jake what Snapchat is was the best or worst idea you’ve ever had.

Here’s the thing, you never had an intention on him finding out about what Snapchat was, it just so happened that one day while the both of you were on the couch snuggled up together, you had opened the application to check a snap a friend had sent you (streaks to be exact). So you took a quick photo of part of your own face and sent it back.

Immediately Jake was curious, questioning what in the hell you were doing.

“I don’t understand, what’s the point?”

“Just to send fun pictures back and forth between friends, it’s not really much more than that.”

“…I want it.”

And with that, you help set up his own account, and added yourself onto it for him.

It took him a little while to completly understand how it worked,

“So what, I just push this circle thingy and it takes the photo?”

“Mhm, and then you can send it to me,”

Jake pressed the middle of the button and in an instant it took a (awkwardly angled) photo of Jake, staring down at the phone with his brows furrowed.

“See now press the little send button-“

“No no I need to take another this one is bad.”

“Jake this is just for an example, it’s fine.”

For a moment, you tussled with Jake for the phone, but Jake ended up getting his thumb on the ‘X’ button at the upper left hand corner of the screen, and deleted the photo from existence. He looked over at you, stared you straight in the eyes, and gave you a shit eating grin.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, leaning back into the couch while you let him go on to take another ‘betting looking’ photo of himself for you.

“Okay, this one is fine.” He said, showing you the new photo he had taken of himself, waiting for the next step.

“Alright, now hit the little button down here,” You reached your hand over and clicked on the send button, then the screen with the list of friends came up, you being the only one on it.

“So now click me, and then press the send button again.”

Jake did exactly as you said, and within a moment a chime came from your phone, alerting that you had received a message.

Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, went to the snap Jake sent you and opened it.

“See?” You showed him your phone and finally he understood how the app worked.

————————————————————————-

It started off simple enough, when apart, you and Jake would send photos back and forth with each-other, sometimes it being decently taken selfies, or the scenery of the location each of you were currently at.

Jake enjoyed the app very much, more than you would have thought, and soon enough you were receiving many more photos than you were sending. You thought it was pretty cute, that was until you ended up getting one selfie from him, with a thumbs up, which would have been fine if the background didn’t happen to include the dead bodies of three people he had just taken out.

When you confronted him about the snap, he did his best to justify the picture.

“Mi amor, I thought you would be proud!”

“Proud? Maybe impressed, but the point is that I would much rather not see dead bodies in the snaps you send me, okay?”

Thankfully, Jake complied to your request, and made more of an effort to not send snaps until after his missions were completed.

To be specific, there was one night after a mission where he couldn’t make it back home right away, but was yearning for your touch like a mad man.

It was about 3 am when your phone lit up and rang out a ding!

You had been half asleep when you heard it, groaning as you rolled over towards the nightstand to grab the phone and see who it was.

It didn’t surprise you that it was from Jake, so you unlocked your phone and opened the snap to see what he sent you.

For a moment you really thought you were hallucinating because there was a fucking dick, your boyfriends dick, on your screen. The text that accompanied the photo was, “Look what you do to me, mi amor.”

You blinked a couple of times, just to make sure you were seeing this correctly. In all fairness, Jake was the most horniest out of the three of your boys, so this probably shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, it just caught you off guard.

You but your lip as a neaky idea came into your head. You sat yourself up and leant over to turn on the lamp that was next to you. Getting up, you made your way over to the boys closet that they shared and at the shelf that was built at the top, sat one of Jakes multitude of caps.

You grinned, first taking of Steven sweatshirt that you had been sleeping it, disregarding it onto the floor, before reaching up to grab Jakes cap.

You put it on top of your head and walked back over to your bed, grabbing your phone once again. You opened up Snapchat, angling your phone so that it was above you, making sure the screen could capture the cap, as well as your breasts. You looked into the camera with an innocent face and then took the picture. You smirked as you wrote, “Wish you were home papí :(“

You then hit send and it was only a matter of seconds before Jake opened it. You stared at your screen, waiting for some sort of response, when suddenly you got an incoming FaceTime call from him.

Lets just say you did not go to sleep for another two hours that night. 😉

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley one shot #jake lockley drabble #Jake lockley #moonknight #moonknight x reader #marvel fanfic #moonknight drabble #moonknight one shot #moonknight fan fic #Jake lockley fluff

[fluffyprettykitty]

‘falsify’

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1400 words

Warnings: swearing, smoking cigarettes, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penetrative unprotected sex, cum eating, bodily fluids as lube, manipulation, finger sucking, fingerfucking. if i missed anything major pls lmk!

Outline: A little white lie never really hurt nobody. Plus you could only benefit from it.

Author’s Note: based on this request (a thousand months later but it's here!) & this poll, mind the warnings and proceed!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist

Marc is kneeling down on the floor, his one arm wrapped around your leg, his leather boots dirtying up your wooden floor. You roll your eyes and breathe a sigh of frustration. This was not your scene. Picking up men from the floor and comforting them is not your forte. You were a woman of little words and big actions.

"You don't mean it..." He pleads, his strained eyes meeting up your strict gaze.

"I've meant worse." You shrug and take a drug of your rolled cigarette. You almost feel matriarchal looking down on him, so you decide to be a little nice, you offer him the cigarette.

"C'mon, pretty boy, get up."

He does as you say, taking the cigarette and allowing it to hang loosely off his lips as he is silently heading to your couch. Remorseful, happier even, there's no joy to his walk but you know his heart is skipping a beat. That's the kind of slut he is. Yesterday you were bent over on that couch getting drilled in it like there was no tomorrow.

As for today? That's gonna be the same scene as well, but it'll most likely be the last time.

It's taunting watching him like that. Smoking, with his hair all messed up, his eyes were red from crying and his eyebags hanging off your most depraved dreams. His jeans are dirty because he could never pick a washing machine out of a crowd and the laces of his boots are loose, there is a small peak of his happy trail as he throws his back on the couch, opening his legs. You've seen his cock before you know how big it is, and you know he needs more room than that.

You're thinking to yourself how he's probably not wearing any underwear, how his jacket on the floor smells just like you, and how his fingers come in so close contact with his lips. Dried and washed up. Just like the rest of him.

You really meant to break up with him, being with him get you nowhere but well fucked.

But you need to break his confidence so he could maybe leave you alone.

Just not tonight.

He is taking the last drag of the cigarette and leaving it on the ashtray. He looks delicious. Ready for taking.

"I love you." You murmur and look straight into the center of his eyes. You know that would get the most reaction from him, you know he'd fuck you so well to prove himself to you, to impress you because you love him, because you're a force together, because -whatever romantic bullshit he wants to tell himself.

Oh, you were selfish. But who could blame you?

The speed with which he gets up from the couch the moment he hears your words and pushes you against the wall marks the decision on your mind as great. You will ghost him tomorrow and he'll never ever find you.

He crushes his lips onto yours, teeth crushing against teeth, noses battling each other, his hand gripping your head forcefully, his hand straight on your pants. He wants you, desperately, carnally, forever. He bites down your neck, sucking your skin, his finger getting inside his favorite body part of yours. He pushes the finger inside, thankful for your love of dresses and cotton panties. Easy access, constant fillings.

Your hands are on his hair, always on his hair, loosening them up, getting lost inside those curls and his lips continue, kissing, sucking down your collarbone, down your breasts. Once on your nipples, he goes on full beast mode, pushing your dress down with his nose and sucking on the buds looking for his favorite brand of honey.

You are using him, using his affection on you, his addiction on you for a good time, for a wonderful boost of serotonin.

But who could blame you when he kneels like that holding on to your thighs and looking up at you with the look of the most obedient child, before he buries his head so far deep inside your pussy, your leg on his shoulder, your hands still on his hair that it makes it all worth it.

Your own personal fucktoy and he didn't even know it.

He sucks on your clit so deeply, two fingers already inside your vagina, and he's moaning at the feeling of your cunt, loving the way she just invites him in like the best lover she ever knew. As if he is her commander.

And the way he loves it when he makes you cum twice always right before he fucks you, just by getting in such close contact with your clit that she ends up dormant makes your plan succeed.

He thinks you love him still. He thinks your feelings were fused by your earlier fight, he truly thinks you'd stay.

He pushes his jeans on the floor and of course, there is no underwear to speak of. His cock, hard, leaking, standing stiff against his stomach and you gulp at the sight. And he chuckles. That cocky chuckle of his.

"Think she can fit all of me in, huh? Don't worry darlin', I'll make sure she does."

And he pushes his cockhead inside, always teasingly, always pausing to look at your face, his hand on your chin lifting it up to make sure he's getting that first breath of hot air on his face. Watching your mouth open and your eyes roll. He loved the effect he had on you, he always thought he was in control.

And he pushes more, shoving two fingers inside your mouth as you willingly take them in, sucking them in, as his eyes dark as the night stays on yours. He sees right inside them and he learns nothing, absolutely nothing.

He thrusts. And it's desperate, punishing, dominating, and romantic at the same time. He sees you as a doll, his doll, you see him as your own personal brand of fucktoy. His lips are hanging open as he's making noises himself, whimpers of the "your pussy is a too wet cause of me" type. He loves to hear that sound of his cock swimming inside your juices.

Marc continues for a while, until he pushes his fingers out of his mouth, moving his hand behind your head and crushing his forehead on yours, the other hand on your waist and then he starts. The main show.

He pistols his hips in such a fast and brutal way, slapping sounds filling the narrow room, your moans echoing, as he licks his lips together and fastens the pace, over and over again until he feels like a drilling machine inside you. That man could last, he could last all fucking night, just to give you the most full cumshot you'd ever seen.

So you don't beg him, you don't ask him for it, you know he's gonna do it when he pleases, he's gonna empty his load when he feels you had enough, not mattering if you came on his cock five or seven times, he'd continue until he felt like the time was accurate for you.

Oh but when he did it was so beautiful, he'd slow down a little, losing control of his hips as he went and then he'd stare at your mouth and lick your lips, and then he'd begin to unload, and look down as he'd slowly start pulling his cock away with his right hand, his left on your head pushing you to look down at the way he filled you up.

And he'd chuckle "Can't fucking put it all in, huh? dumb little pussy."

He'd scoff and scoop up the spare with his hand and force you to lick it, his cock getting harder the more desperately you'd eat it.

Until he'd do it all all over again.

On the couch,

on the floor,

on the broken bed,

on the bathroom sink,

in the shower,

on the kitchen table,

against the door,

in the elevator.

And you'd never blame yourself for getting on that plane never to be found again that following morning.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#selenewrites #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector one shot #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #marc spector fic #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac smut #moon knight

[ijustwant2write]

Membership Pass-Steven Grant x Reader

(GIF credit to @stevenrogered)

MASTERLIST

Requested by anonymous: 'Imagine Reader meeting Steve at the museum and both are super shy 🥺but since then they come across each other everyday and it's really cute 🥺'

Characters: Steven Grant x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just fluff 😊

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) beamed as she stepped into the museum. She hadn't visited since she was little, it had changed so much, but that only meant she had more exhibits to see. She didn't care that she was by herself, no one was there to distract her. She could really focus on the history on display.

Her whole day was spent there, and a day we'll spent in (Y/N)'s opinion. She knew there were others around her that also appreciated the displays and information set out, though there were also a lot of children either fascinated or bored during their trip. Just like when she was a little girl, she ended the trip with a visit to the gift shop.

Steve was obviously bored, repricing items that were headed for clearance, the stupid and inaccurate toys mocked him almost. As he carelessly stuck new price stickers on the items, he noticed a woman waltz in, staring a little too long. He couldn't help it, she was beautiful. Steven assumed she would walk through to the exit, it was always kids and their parents who stayed to buy something. He was surprised when she saw her jaw drop at the sight of something.

(Y/N) rushed over to the Egyptian section, spotting the newest book by her favourite author. It was another installment from the author who studied all aspects of Egyptian life, and it was exclusively released to the museum first. She picked up one from the pile, seeing that she had grabbed one of the signed copies. With a big grin on her face, she made her way to the till, already wanting to flick through the papers.

Steven clumsily fumbled with the sticker machine, almost dropping it on the floor as he scurried over. He tried to play it off by laughing when he got there, greeting the woman with blushing cheeks.

"Hi."

"Hi." she smiled back.

"You seemed excited to pick this one up."

"Yeah, well, I have all the other books in the collection so far. And I realised literally as I walked in here that the new one is being sold here so of course I have to get it."

Steven was in awe. There were hardly any customers that would know of this author, let alone want to buy a book from the museum in the first place.

"I have all the books too!" Steven exclaimed."Volume one is always my favourite though."

"Egyptian gods? Yeah, that's a good one. You're so lucky to work in a place like this."

"The gift shop? Nah, it's not as good as being on the floor, you know, like a tour guide."

"That does sound fun."

"The shop or the tours?"

She laughed."Sorry, I have to go with the tours."

He let out a short chuckle as he scanned the book, grabbing a gift bag as she got out her card.

"Oh, I have one of those member cards to scan!" she quickly whipped it out.

"Oh cool, so you've got yearly access to the museum." he took it from her to scan.

"Yep, it was a present from my parents. I've just moved to London because of my new job, but they knew I would want to come here all the time. I was so excited when they gave it to me, it was even better than the new TV they helped me buy." (Y/N) froze before she could talk any further."Sorry, I talk a lot when I get excited."

This shop assistant was so cute, and here she was embarrassing herself. She saw his name was Steven from the name tag, noting that it was with a 'V' and not a 'ph'. As he returned her card, he dropped it on the counter, both of them fumbling to pick it up, cringing as their hands brushed multiple times.

"So, that's thirteen pounds and fifty pence please." Steven said when they recovered.

She tapped her phone on the card machine, thanking him as he put the receipt in the bag and slid it over.

"Will you be visiting again soon?" Steven dared to ask.

"Yeah, I think I most definitely will be."

They shared a smile before she walked away, shoulders tensing up from how giddy she was.

"My name is Steven by the way!" he called after her.

(Y/N) turned around."I know. Because of the name tag! I'm not a stalker!"

He nodded as they laughed again, (Y/N) about to walk away when she remembered she hadn't told him her name.

"Oh, I'm (Y/N) by the way. It was really nice to meet you."

They were both bashful as their conversation ended. Steven had a bit more spring in his step for the rest of the day, hoping (Y/N) would become a regular visitor who he would be seeing more often. (Y/N) now had another reason to come to the museum, maybe she would grow the confidence to speak to him for more than five minutes.

The week passed, Steven being nagged by Donna and (Y/N) was settling into her new workplace. But it was now Saturday, the weekend, it was time for (Y/N) to head to the museum again. She got up extra early this time, hoping to catch Steven before the rush. Although she had been in high spirits the whole way there, she halted outside the doors, wondering if Steven was even working. Of course (Y/N) would still enjoy her time there, though she had wanted to talk to Steven again.

(Y/N) felt silly as she walked in, scanning her membership card. She had dressed up more, made an effort. It was still a casual look, she just wanted to give off a good impression to Steven. Who was she kidding? She had never even been asked on a date, how was she going to speak with this guy?

Although she tried to walk around the exhibits, take down her own notes of anything interesting, she couldn't keep her mind off of Steven. He was just so handsome, and cute, and so adorable when he spoke. It was clear he was shy too, though that made him more attractive. They also shared a big interest, something they were both passionate about. (Y/N) really hoped he was working today.

Steven had dashed through the museum, running late for work again. He prayed Donna wouldn't catch him, hopefully she hadn't noticed his absence yet. Luckily there weren't many visitors yet, so he got away with running through the halls. But he spotted someone familiar, only for a second, but it still made him stop, almost skidding across the room on the polished floors. It was her, and she looked beautiful.

"(Y/N)?" he cautiously said as he approached her.

"Steven!"

The way she said his name gave him butterflies.

"Long time no see." he joked.

"I did say I would be a regular."

"That's great, not many people devote their time to the museum."

"I love it, I always have."

There was a short silence before an idea popped into his head."Um ...I was actually wondering...My lunch break is at one, did you, like, want to have lunch together or something?"

(Y/N) felt herself blushing, heart racing. Would this be a date?

"Yeah, I'd love that!"

Too enthusiastic (Y/N).

"Great! I'll meet you by the Egyptian section?" Steven hoped it wasn't too on the nose.

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

Steven nodded, mumbling out 'bye' before he really had to make sure he got to the shop before Donna. (Y/N) was relieved that she had made an effort into her outfit, though she knew Steven ultimately wouldn't have minded what she wore.

One o'clock took it's time to get to. Both Steven and (Y/N) had glanced at the clock or phone too many times. Steven had to deal with customers bribing their bratty children with toys, whilst (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on any of the information she read. Her eyes would skim over the words but nothing would register. When it was five to one, (Y/N) made her way to the meeting point, trying to look around for Steven ut not making it too obvious.

Steven had his lunchbox and flask in his hands, quickly making his way to the Egyptian area. He was excited, could this be a date? Oh, what if it was? He kicked himself for not asking her out properly, they could have at least gone to a nice cafe nearby. It was too late now anyway, as he had spotted her.

"Hi." Steven grinned.

She turned around at the sound of his voice."Hi. Oh you were smart bringing a packed lunch. I had to go buy mine."

"Oh, I would have bought it for you! I was the one who suggested lunch in the first place."

"It's OK, I really don't mind."

"As long as you're sure."

She nodded."So, where shall we sit?"

"I've got just the place."

He guided her through the halls of artifacts, finding a bench pressed against a wall. Opposite was a huge tapestry, it was faded but you could still clearly make out what was weaved on it; there were pictures of God's and humans, (Y/N) knew what it was instantly.

"Journey to the afterlife." she muttered.

"Yeah, I just thought, lunch with a view." Steven nervously said.

"A very good view indeed."

They tucked into their lunches, speaking when they weren't chewing about the piece in front of them. Steve knew he didn't have a lot of time for his break, but there was so much he wanted to know about her.

"Can I ask, what got you so interested in all this?"

"Egyptians?"

He nodded.

"I dunno, I think... Well for starters, I love all history, I could talk about anything in the past, you know, Tudors, Romans, Aztecs, Victorians. But, something just drew me to this, I found it all so beautiful and fascinating. I wish I had persued it in uni or something, and not just as a hobby."

"Why didnt you?"

"My parents have always been supportive, but we weren't very well off. I think they were worried that I would end up with little money if I went down that route, they encouraged me to do something other than history. And I do like my job, I've got good colleagues and I'm able to afford rent in the capital! It's not the greatest flat in the world I'll admit but it's still a place I'm paying for."

"Good for you. That's really admirable."

"Thanks Steven, that's a very sweet thing to say."

He mentally high fived himself, he was doing a good job here.

"What about you? Why aren't you a tour guide?"

"Same sort of story really. I would love to be one. It just feels good telling people all this information you know, and then seeing their eyes light up at things they never knew about. The kids faces are funny when they hear about how mummies were actually made."

"I can imagine. At least we can still enjoy the exhibits I suppose."

"Yeah." Steven glanced at his watch, he only had ten minutes left, and he had to be back at the shop sharp."Hey, um, I was thinking...Maybe we make this a regular thing? And perhaps we could also go out for dinner sometime?"

(Y/N) tried not to giggle in glee, feeling herself turn red."Like, a date?"

"Yeah, only if you want it to be. I would like that."

"Yes. I would gladly go out with you. On a date."

"Perfect!"

They were smiling widely at one another, not sure of the next move to make.

"I have to get back to work, but will I see you on your way out?"

"Of course. I really liked having lunch together."

"Me too. Discuss details of our 'date' later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later."

"Laters gators."

Steven turned quickly before he could regret what he said. Why? Why did he have to end it like that? At least he could be happy knowing he had a date with a girl he really fancied. And he was also looking forward to her finishing her visit, he had to think of somewhere to go now.

(Y/N)'s cheeks were aching from how much she was smiling. She had a date! It was her first date! What was she going to wear? Should she bring a bottle of wine? But they were surely going out so why would she do that? (Y/N) had to remind herself that they hadn't even said what they were doing, that would be discussed later. Just like before, (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on anything in front of her, daydreaming about her date with Steven. She was going to have a shorter trip today, just so she could see Steven sooner, she thought. What a great reason to visit the museum every week.

#Steven grant #Steven Grant imagine #Steven Grant imagines #Steven Grant one shot #Steven Grant x reader #Steven Grant fanfic #Steven Grant fan fic #Steven Grant fanfiction #Steven Grant fan fiction #Moonknight #Moonknight imagine #Moonknight imagines #Moonknight one shot #Moonknight x reader #Moonknight fanfic #Moonknight fan fic #Moonknight fanfiction #Moonknight fan fiction #Marvel #Marvel imagine #Marvel imagines #Marvel one shot #Marvel x reader #Marvel fanfic #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel fan fic #Marvel fan fiction

[layla4567]

I'm just a librarian ✿

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work in a library in the middle of London, you get paid well and you love your little reading space surrounded by books that rise to the highest ceiling. But one day your normality will be turned upside down when a guy comes looking for some books on Egyptian history.

A/N: Ok first of all I must say that this idea arose from a little dream I had (and I also wanted to use the image from the movie The Mummy, I mean, just look at her, she is beautiful, she looks like Belle) second, I don't know if this will have more parts the truth is I'm not good at making long stories because then I leave them unfinished or I run out of ideas so, yes, I'm building this as I go along, sorry.

Part 2

And here I am once again, sitting behind the counter where you could see an old green lamp, a couple of books stacked one on top of the other, a typewriter and a little badge where you could read my name. With my legs crossed I moved my airborne foot rhythmically back and forth following a silent melody while my face rested lazily on my hand. My view was always directed towards the large windows that were near the line where the roof began. They were in the shape of a half circle and had a nice drawing similar to a stained glass window through which the sunlight passed in a warm way.

I loved being around libraries just for the sake of being a bookworm. I could spend hours reading old books sitting in a comfortable chair enjoying the silence without realizing it. But it was kind of boring to sit and wait for people to arrive so that you could help them with whatever they needed. I had already finished arranging the books with the help of the ladder, I loved doing it, it was fun to slide from one side to the other, it was almost like skating.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had entered the library until they were in front of me so I gave a little jump in my seat.

"Oh so sorry! did I scare you? It wasn't my intention"

The person who addressed me was a very polite and kind middle-aged man, he had an innocent look in those pretty dark eyes he had. He was wearing a jean jacket and underneath was a white shirt, he was also wearing khaki pants and had a brown shoulder strap on one side.

"Don't worry, It's okay, I was just thinking, can I help you with something?"

I could not stop seeing his eyes, his look gave off a peculiar innocence glow, I could sense a genuinely beautiful aura like that of a child

"Well, yes. I was looking for books on Egyptian history, you know, gods and pharaohs, myths, pyramids, etc."

Every time he spoke his face would light up with enthusiasm, it was admirable to see

"Sure, we have several. Follow me please"- I said while my smile deepened

I led him through the aisles looking for the "Ancient Egypt" section by the gigantic shelves. The man meekly followed me like a lap dog without taking his eyes off me as he clung to his backpack. When we had reached the section, I took out 4 books, stacking them one on top of the other and numbering them as I handed them over to him.

" "History of Egypt", "Gods and mythologies", "Encyclopedia of the pyramids" and "The 10 most famous figures of ancient Egypt" And remember to return everything within 15 days "

I piled the books in the arms of that man who tried with effort to hold them since they were quite large and hardcover while I raised a finger and recited the prayer from memory. Even though the books were about to fall out of his hands, the man looked from the books to me with a beaming smile.

"Of course, yes, miss, I will do so. Thank you very much for your help"

I smiled generously at the man's good manners and walked him to my desk to finish the paperwork. I sat as the middle-aged man patiently watched me with his books in his arms like a child waiting for his Christmas present.

"Ok, I will give you a paper with the exact date where you must return the books along with our address, I would only need to know your name to write it down please"- I looked at him expectantly

"Steven Grant, Steven with a V"

I couldn't help but laugh at the clarification as if I didn't know how to write his name

"I clarify it just in case. A lot of people always misspell it, sometimes they call me Stephen. But surely you wrote it well, you seem to have nice handwriting hehe"

Steven giggled nervously as I smirked in amusement. What a singular man that Steven was

"No problem, what a nice name you have"- I smiled warmly

Steven got more nervous and his face begins to take on a cute reddish color as he stuttered and mumbled a thank you.

"By the way, my name is Y/n"

I told him, pointing with a fingernail to my badge that was resting on the desk. He looked at it for a while and smiled

"Now I won't forget"

And with one free hand he gave me a childish wave as he uttered a sweet "Laters gators" and headed for the exit. With one elbow on the table and my hand resting on my cheek, I watched him until he disappeared through the door.

"Steven.."

I pronounced his name slowly delighting myself with the syllables, it was sweet as honey and resonant as a bell. I was wondering if I would see him around here more often. I sighed with a lopsided smile and went back to staring at the stained glass windows waiting for someone else to come and help them.

The days passed and I didn't hear from Steven, he hadn't returned the books within the agreed period and I was beginning to worry. He supposed that this man was a little distracted or had forgotten or was busy with something important, anyway it was very common for people not to return the books on time and to be a little late. My head was full of thoughts hoping nothing bad happened to Steven and hoping to see him again when someone stormed through the library entrance.

"I'm really sorry!! I got there as fast as I could, apparently I fell asleep and woke up in a place full of sand. I have a sleep disorder, I'm sorry"

Steven was talking fast, spitting out the words like a machine gun, he looked agitated and his hair was messy. And on his face you could see the nervousness and concern. I tried to reassure him

"Steven, Steven calm down, it's okay. I get it, you don't have to apologize."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard trying to provide warmth and protection. Steven giggled nervously and his cheeks turned pink, it was adorable.

"Oh by the way, here are the books"

Steven took out of his bag the books in perfect condition that I had given him. At least he was a man of his word

"Thank you very much Steven, do you want any other books?"

"Well actually yes, if it's not a bother, wouldn't you have one that talks about the moon god Khonsu?"-he said something nervous

I laughed in amusement

"Of course! We have many books on Egyptian gods, take the ones you want"-I said tenderly

Steven for some reason gave me a strange feeling, a maternal need to protect him, he looked so helpless at times. I can't even imagine how chaotic his life must be

"You know something? Why don't I buy you a coffee? I'll give you the new books and then we can hang out and chat, I have a break in 15 minutes."

Apparently Steven didn't expect that so he got even more red.

"I-Is it some kind of date?"

"If you want to see it that way, yes"

Steven smiled like a kid in a toy store and followed me back to the bookshelves. After giving him everything he needed, he waited for me at the entrance of the library like a true gentleman. I left my position in charge of my partner Selma who answered me with a grunt and left with Steven towards the nearest cafeteria.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

We sat at a table close to the street. The cafeteria was decorated with flowers and vines, it was my favorite, it made it look Parisian. We both ordered a simple latte and to eat I ordered a croissant with chocolate and he asked for a kind of vegan burrito, then he explained to me that he doesn't eat anything that comes from animals.

"Well Steven tell me something about yourself, do you have a job?"

"Yes, I'm working in a gift shop at the British Museum. But I would really love to be the one who makes the guides"

"Really? Amazing! who'd say? You are a museum and history enthusiast and I am a bookworm willing to provide you with all the information you want."

We both laughed happily forgetting what was happening around us. Steven's laugh was like sweet nectar to my ears that made all my worries disappear. Except for one that was still on my mind

"Wait a second, how come you woke up in a place full of sand? Where exactly?"

"I have no idea, I wish I knew. But it's not the first time it's happened to me, one day I woke up on top of Everest"

Steven started laughing downplaying it and I laughed too but with less enthusiasm. I was worried about him.

"Well I think I should go back to my work, thanks for everything I really needed to talk to someone and distract myself"

I looked at Steven tenderly, thinking that I was probably the only person he could talk to broke my heart.

"Anytime Steven. Anyway, I also have to go back to work, the time flies by when you talk"

I left a tip on the table and was about to go to the library when Steven stopped me with a question.

"Would you like to visit me one day at the museum? It's that I always visit you...-"

"I'd love to"

We said goodbye with a smile as if we were lifelong friends and each one went their own way to continue with their work on that beautiful afternoon in London.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sorry if it was boring and there wasn't much interaction with Steven but this is just the first part of the story

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