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mccn-bcys · 11 months

Text

JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND pt. 3

pairing: moonboys x fem!reader

summary: jake finally makes his debut to ask the reader a question the boys have been dying to ask. reader gives her answer and jake is just a cutie.

warning: jake (he's a warning, yes), just some nice fluff for ya.

authors note: okay ik a lot of you have been wanting this chapter for a long time (sorry about the long wait, I had a lot going on the past couple of months). this chapter isn't as long as the others but it just felt right to have this one be short and sweet. the next chapter, maybe we'll see some more of marc 😏🤭

word count: 1,028

and then there was jake. it was funny actually. he'd been dreaming of meeting his soulmate since he had gotten the stain. and he had so badly wanted to meet you when you first brushed against their hand on the sidewalk that day.

god how he wanted to meet you. and yet he couldn't make himself front. even when steven or marc would hand it over to him, especially when you'd plan days to meet and spend with him, he just couldn't front.

none of them understood it. it's like he'd freeze up. it was eating him up. he was pretty sure he was in love with you – actually he was positive he was in love with you. and he'd never even actually met you!

you, being the amazing person you were, were so patient with him. whenever you'd see the boys on the days you were going to meet jake, and find out he wasn't fronting, you'd have marc or steven tell him you didn't mind waiting.

"you boys are all worth waiting for," you'd say, making them melt.

and jake would try more to front around you and it just wouldn't happen. he couldn't figure out why. although on a deeper level, he knew why.

he supposed he wasn't much different than marc. as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, he also knew his reputation. it was said reputation that caused him to romanticize the thought of a soulmate. he never really thought himself capable of being loved. if marc thought his hands were stained with blood, jake was swimming in it.

if he was realistic, he couldn't imagine why you would love him. he was ruthless, he could be cold, he had a tendency to shut people out if they got too close.

But he wanted you to get too close. He wanted to able to talk to you, learn about you and not through the other two. He wanted to hold you and comfort you, and be held and be comforted by you.

but like marc, he'd been scared. scared you'd run for it, if you knew him. everyone else did.

and yet here you were: sitting across the table, smiling so wide, eyes so patient, like he's your favorite person in the world. if you kept going, he's sure he would probably cry.

"jake?" you called cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. his eyes snap to yours, smiling at you. he thinks: 'they're right...the way she says our names is addicting.'

"sí, amor?" he answers softly, but you seem to brighten up even more.

"yes," you simply said.

his eyebrows furrow. had he asked a question?

yes, you did, you bloody idiot!

holy shit...she actually said yes...

"yes?" he repeated, since his alters weren't helping him at all.

you laughed at that, at him seemingly forgetting his own question. he loved that sound.

"you asked me to move in," you reminded him patiently.

"and you said yes?"

"I did."

"but you don't know me," he tries to reason, because how on earth would you have agreed to move in with the mess of these three men?

"I know that i love marc and steven, and if I love them, i already love you too," were you trying to kill him?

"why?"

that threw you for a loop. you hadn't been expecting it. why did you love this man you've never actually met?

"well...for starters, we're soulmates-"

"that doesn't mean that I'm not a terrible person." steven had warned you of this. that he might try to talk of himself like this.

"but you're not-"

"you don't know that."

"except that I do."

"how could you possibly know that?"

"because I just do-"

"amor, that's not an answ-"

"I know because you're a weirdo who wears gloves while he drives a limo. You send a bouquet of my favorite flowers every time you can't front when we planned. I know because I can feel you follow me home every night after work when you're patrolling, making sure I get home safe. I know because marc's told me that you can't pass a cat without petting it. I know because I *know.* You're a *good man,* jake," you say, looking at him completely serious.

and for the first time in a long time, every voice in his head is silent. they're at a loss for words. there's this strange feeling in jake's heart and he's never felt it before.

what is that, he thinks.

that's love, jake.

it feels like a heart attack.

yeah...it's great, innit?

you watch him closely while he's silent, watching to see if you've overstepped somehow. to try and see what he's feeling. amd when he stands, you're worried he's leaving. that he's going to change his mind about wanting you to move in.

but he quickly crosses over to you and he cups your face, gentle as he is urgent, and leans down and kisses you, deeply, passionately. and for a moment, you're confused. but you quickly kiss him back, matching his energy, his passion. after a moment, he pulls away, both of you panting lightly, breathless from the kiss. he presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes so intensely you swear he can see your soul.

"te amo jodidamente mucho," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you say back softly, meaning every word.

jake has feel that twist in his heart again, but he knows what it is now. it's love. and it's strange and foreign but...he thinks he likes it. he feels like he's never smiled so wide in his life. he presses one more soft kiss to your lips before moving back to his seat at the table.

"so...tell me about these gloves you bought me," he grins.

and you start talking about them, explaining every detail about them and why you thought he'd like them. he swears he's never smiled so dopey in his life, talking to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. he'd finally fronted and he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of every single second he gets with you.

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tag list: @gardenof-venus @fandomtrash465 @ichigodjarin @bladeshades @pinkpenwuin @sm3rqld-o @simplecol18 @sleepyamaya @wordacadabra @sm8th0p @firesidefandoms @missmarmaladeth @stevenandmarcslove @avengersinitiative2012 @cleothegoldfish @lunaleah @winxschester @shadowmoonnight @undermoonlightwalk @ahookedheroespureheart @phan3145 @local-mr-frog @theconsultingdoctor10 @luvpedropascal @violet-19999 @an0th3rsss @iamcoolguy @disregardedplant @fruitymoonbeams-blog @xcraftystormx @marisferasiop @bensolosbluesaber @rellasnowheenim @quethekillerqueen @jake-g-lockley @whydidigetalibralartsdegree @moonknightwifey @spacecowboyhotch @howaboutcastiel @princessloveweird @minigirl87 @midgardian-witch @aleat0ri0 @leahnicole1219 @acciocriativity @missxlause @yeah3459 @groovycass @kotonei-molyneux

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#jake lockley #moon knight #marc spector #moon boys #steven grant #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader #soulmate au #just a touch of your hand #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fluff #mr knight #part three

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i9messi · 1 year

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Drunks in love — Charles Leclerc

Drunks always tell the truth, don’t they? You and Charles are more than willing to flirt with each other, no matter you’re best friends.

Word count — 894

warnings — alcohol

charles' masterlist

You and Charles were friends, that’s what you were trying to make yourself believe. While everyone realized the chemistry both had, you and your friend were totally convinced that your feelings were unreciprocated. Little did you know that you both loved each other as much more than friends.

That night, after Charles' victory, you decided to go to a bar and have drinks. Your friends had left you alone for a moment and it had not taken long to find yourself in a different situation. Charles had taken your hand and you ended up sitting in a much more private area. The music was loud but you had come so close that your lips were almost stuck to each other’s ears.

You had needed liquid courage to be able to flirt. That’s what you were doing at the time. Flirting. You were both quite drunk and unaware of nothing, at that moment you had forgotten your thoughts and everything that made you fear to ruin the friendship.

Charles narrowed his eyes and his smile made you want to kiss him on the lips. He was gorgeous, someone you loved so much that it was hard to disguise.

"I think all the bottles in this bar must be jealous- your beauty is the most intoxicating thing in this place."

Charles winked at you and you got even closer to him. He did not give up and continued with his flirtation, not knowing that with every word, you were about to tell him that he meant the world to you.

"You’re cute. Are you single?" He yelled and you giggled.

"Yes. Why?"

"I think we should have a date someday."

You smiled at him and put your mouth back in his ear.

"I don’t date strangers!"

"I’m not a stranger." he said and then, frowned, not before making a pot."I’m a stranger to you?"

"I don’t know, I can’t remember."

You could remember some things, you felt safe around him, knowing that he would always be there for you. That you wanted to stay by his side. And above all, you remembered your feelings for him. You loved him.

"Well, my name is Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc."

"That’s a long name."

"It is."

You both looked at each other for a while, until you let out a meaningless laugh and started making comments that made no sense. You were too drunk to notice that their hands were attached and they were almost stuck in that seat.

"You have pretty eyes." you said out loud and saw how his cheeks turned red at the compliment.

"Oh? oh. I- thank you?"

After a couple of minutes later you noticed someone approaching. Carlos Sainz looked at you both with a smile full of ulterior motives.

"How are you, lovebirds?"

"We should go home. I’m tired." said Charles and you nodded.

"Yeah, I’m tired too."

Carlos had not taken alcohol, so he offered to take you. The Spaniard took you to Charles’s house, where you were going to stay for that night. You had planned to sleep in the guest room, so you undoubtedly went there. Carlos and Charles remained talking for a while, with your friend too drunk to form any meaningful prayer. You took your shoes off and saw the door open.

Charles threw himself on top of the bed and settled down with one arm under his head to support himself. His eyes were narrowed and he had a lazy smile.

"Belle, what do you think of us?"

"Us?"

"You and me, us."

You kept quiet for a while, trying to process his question.

"I feel safe and loved when I'm with you, Charles."

Charles seemed satisfied with your answer and yet decided to continue with his questions.

"Are you my friend?"

"I think I am." You answered and he grimaced.

"If you weren’t my friend things would be easy. Just stop being my friend."

"Are you breaking up our friendship, Charles?"

It was the alcohol speaking for you because the moment Charles proposed that, you started crying at the thought of losing it. Your friend almost fell out of bed but came up to you and cradled you in his arms.

"I think..." You told him, letting out some sobs. "I think I really... I really like you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... like, a lot."

Charles admired your features while you were thinking that he didn’t want to know anymore with you. To him you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, he could spend hours looking at you. Charles finally realized what you had said and he had an important reaction. He raised his index finger and pointed at you.

"Waaaait. If I like you and you like me, let’s date."

"What?"

Charles nodded in conviction at his idea.

"We probably need to talk about this when we’re not drunk anymore, belle."

"I’m not drunk!"

"You are, I'm drunk too." He laughed involuntarily.

Charles grabbed his cell phone and you saw that he wrote something down, although he had a lot of misspellings due to his condition. It was something like remwmber: sheE feels the same!!!

He finally put his cell phone on the nightstand and lay down in the bed. "Let’s go to sleep."

You both lay in bed with smiles on your faces. Tomorrow you were going to have a long talk.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc story #leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x you

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Note

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAYYYY<3 to celebrate, can i request “jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you” from the prompt list with marc??? thanks love!

What Did You Say? - Part 1 (Marc)

Marc Spector X f!Reader

Part 2 (Steven) - Part 3 (Jake)

Hadley, bb, WAAAAAAAH JEALOUS MARC IS MY WEAKNESS! I hope you liked it :) @welcometostayingawake thank you for brainstorming this with me! - Also just realized I didn't add the fucking prompt line to this one! Whoops! I'm so tired when I wrote this so apologies! The concept is there though!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, rough sex, jealousy, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, p in v creampie

Word Count: 814

Marc was on top of you, thrusting deeply, worshiping your body like he always did. His face was buried into your neck, sucking on the soft skin there, and his hand was pinching your nipple. You squeezed Marc’s hip, trying to rile him up a bit, get him to fuck you just a little harder, but he wasn’t going for it.

“Come on babe, I had a tough day…” You urged. “I want you to really fuck me. Get mad.”

That seemed to inspire him to move a little faster, and pinch a little harder, but it still wasn’t the same, it wasn’t what you knew Jake could give you instead. You entertained Marc for a little while longer, but you sensed your lack of enthusiastic noises caused him to start getting a little soft. Marc grumbled and got off of you.

“What is it? What am I doing wrong?” He was irritated.

“I told you, I had a rough day, I keep asking you to just fuck me harder and you won’t and I’m sorry.” You stood up too. “Guess I’m just not into it tonight.”

Marc was still naked, standing by the dresser while his cock softened before your eyes.

“Why don’t you just get Jake out here? He knows how to really fuck me right, just how I need it right now.” You felt bad for saying it, but it was true. Jake knew how to turn you into putty, no matter how pissed you were after work, and that was exactly what you needed to relax.

Marc turned around slowly, his brows furrowed, eyes dark.

“Excuse me?” He asked, taking a step forward.

“Sorry, I’m just frustrated I shouldn’t have said that.”

You groaned, knowing that this meant you and Marc might fight. You exited the bedroom, deciding to get a glass of water before you took a bath. At least then you could just take care of yourself. You didn’t make it that far though. Marc was hot on your heels and he grabbed around your waist pulling you back against his chest.

“What did you say to me in there?” He asked through clenched teeth.

If he could see the little smirk you held, you knew it would infuriate him.

“Baby, it’s ok, you’re each good at different things. Jake just happens to be better at fucking me when I need someone more…in charge.”

That did it.

Within seconds, Marc was kicking a chair out of the way and pushing you down onto the table. You had your face to the side, where Marc hooked his thumb into your mouth and pressed on your cheek with his palm.

“You think Jake fucks you best? Let’s see how you feel when I’m done with you.” He was hard again, thrusting his cock into you so harshly you thought your hips might bruise on the table.

His thumb stayed in your mouth, pulling at the sides and forcing drool to spill out onto the varnish. You held on to the table tightly, feeling like you might lose your balance from how ruthless he was on your cunt. The harder he fucked you, the more you squirmed, the more you had to reposition yourself to keep from falling.

“Take it, all you can do honey is just take it.” His voice became more raw and gruff with every slap of his hips against your rear.

You moaned a distorted groan with his thumb still pulling against the skin of your cheek.

“You seeing this Jake? Huh? You seein’ how pretty our girl looks with her little pussy splitting over my cock?” You felt your cunt flutter over his girth, “mm, you feel that?”

If Jake and Steven were right there, listening in, you knew you’d be in for a long night of jealous alters both wanting a chance to prove their skills in the bedroom. For now though, Marc was fucking you to tears over the kitchen table, forcing you to make the noises he so desperately wanted to hear from you earlier.

“You crying baby girl?” He spanked your ass with his free hand, “good, let it out, you look so fucking pretty like that, crying and drooling all over the goddamn table. Let’s see Jake do that.”

Steven would be upset that the varnish got stained, but Marc clearly didn’t give a shit about that, he was too busy proving himself to the others. His pace reached an all time high as he approached his climax. While he pumped you full of his seed, you felt your cunt squeeze around his pulsating cock. You wailed into the apartment in your ecstasy while Marc was slowly running out of steam, until he eventually stopped and pulled everything out of you.

“There.” Marc tapped your asscheek. “Now we’ll see who you’re asking for the next time you have a tough night.”

Melody's Birthday Celebration - Submissions Closed

Celebration Masterlist

#marc spector #marc spector fiction #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #moon knight #moon knight drabble #marc spector drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic

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minispidey · 7 months

Text

Imagine 13.

Marc Spector x sugar mommy bimbo!reader.

warnings: manipulation, is marc toxic in this au? maybe. marc and layla aren't married here maybe?? haven't thought of it much

(Not following canon here, just a random thought)

"Baby can you call me back? I miss you... I'm so lonely in my mansion." was one of the voice messages that Steven listened to following a couple more with girly squeals and crying. In total: you sent over 117 voice messages.

He didn't even know Marc had a girlfriend.

When he accidentally called you, you immediately tracked him down and went all the way to London in the matter of hours. Marc had to argue with Steven to give him the body, but he eventually did.

"Marc, baby! I missed you so much!" You cried out as you threw yourself at him, hugging him and sobbing over his shoulder "I thought you were ignoring me because you wanted to break up with me!"

Your sobs then turned to ear-piercing cries and Marc comforted you to keep you quiet.

"Baby, honey, I'm so sorry. I lost my phone." he cups your face, smiling at you "I would never do that on purpose, you know that, princess."

"But you never called!"

"I don't memorize your number, baby— but I promise, I tried to contact you."

A lie.

"I'll buy you a new phone." you pouted before burying your face into his chest and taking in his scent.

"That sounds nice, baby." Marc placed a kiss on the top of your head, making you feel all warm inside "Hey, I need a flight ticket. Can you whip something up for me?"

"A flight ticket? Are we going on vacation?"

"Well, baby, I have some unfinished business. But I swear I'll get back to you."

"What?! But I just got you back! This is so unfair!"

"Baby. Baby, listen to me." Marc cups your face again and rests his forehead against yours "I promise I'll come back to you. I'll even go shopping with you, but I just need to finish something so I wouldn't have to disappear on you, okay?"

You whined, visibly upset at him.

"Please, baby?" he pressed a kiss on your lips "I missed you so much too. I wanna be with you, but there's just a couple jackasses on my trail. I promise I'll be all yours when it's over, please?"

"But, Marc..."

"Please, baby?" Marc kisses you again.

"Okay..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." you nodded, looking up at him.

"Thank you, baby. You're the best." he rests his hands on your hips "Do you think you can get me a flight today?"

"I'll check."

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #x bimbo!reader #bimbo reader #x reader #moon knight system #steven grant smut

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myfandomlikesandstories · 9 months

Text

Spaces

Marc spector x gn!reader

Genre: angst, hurt comfort

Summary: Marc has a panic attack and some intrusive thoughts following a simple, innocent request from you.

Warnings: heavy angst and crying, suicidal ideation, mention of Nazis, panic attack, intrusive thoughts, extremely negative self talk.

Word count: 1186

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Marc and you were lying in bed, cuddling after a long day. You've been together a few years, and been through quite a lot, yet always on each other's side. You were surprised when you heard about his alters, Steven and Jake, but welcomed them into your heart. The three of them, in turn, filled every crack of your heart and mind with their unending love. All four of you became a whole.

Marc's arm was draped across your body, his hair tickling your skin pleasantly. You were pressed very close together. Usually, that would have been wonderful, not too warm or suffocating, but tonight:

"I need some space." You declared, thinking nothing of it. You draped the blanket away from yourself, and Marc scooted back, somewhat confused.

"Okay," he said, nodding lightly but concerned. "Whatever you need, babe." He rolled on his side turning his back to you, and lied down on the far edge of the bed. You were so tired, you didn't notice the shake in his voice, or how he inched farther and farther away from you, until his bent knees were hanging in the air.

"It's cold, here, now." He thought, and didn't understand why his throat was closing up. His body became stiff as the familiar record started to play in his mind. "Just until a moment ago, you were in the warm embrace of heaven. How did you fuck that up? You'll always be alone. Cold and alone. Even the stray dogs won't like you. You always ruin it for everyone. Steven deserves a life, goddamnit! You don't even deserve this bed."

You heard a sharp inhale as a chill went through his body and he shot out of bed. "Sorry." He managed to croak out, eyes filling with tears and he left the room.

Marc's legs carried him to the tiny guest bathroom, where he slid down the wall onto the floor, and closed the door behind him. He couldn't breathe, only in tiny little gasps and whimpers. He buried his head in his knees, trying to muffle his cries into his hand.

"No one will hold that hand again," a thought floated into his head. "You're pathetic. You're nothing. You don't deserve any of this. Look at yourself, disgusting! DISGUSTING!" The word echoed in his mother's voice, making him flinch from the belt that was no longer there.

Tears were now flowing from his tightly shut eyes. "Some space! You're so dramatic, you're such a burden, you're strangling, you're horrible, kill yourself! Give all the world some space from Marc Spector, smallest, shittiest and worst man on earth! You're thinking that, it makes you evil! You want to kill yourself, and you want to kill Steven and Jake too because you're trash! That's why there's Nazis! For you! SOME SPACE!!! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE NOT WANTED! YOU CAN'T EVEN GIVE YOUR ABSENCE!!!"

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You thought for a second that he just went for a wee, and closed your eyes. You just wanted a few minutes to breathe and cool down, and then you'll turn around and cuddle up to him. You love to press your face into his warm chest.

Wait.

He didn't go to the en-suite.

You opened your eyes, came back to your senses, and heard a muffled cry. Not 5 seconds after, you were banging on the bathroom door, your heart breaking at the uncontrollable sobs coming from inside.

Marc didn't open the door, and you decided it was enough. You warned him, and opened it yourself. Your boyfriend leaped away from you, hitting his head on the tile and squeezing himself to the best of his ability between the toilet and the wall.

"Marc, honey, hey-" you started, crouching down to him.

"That's where I belong." He hiccuped. "The piece of shit that I am." His voice wavered, he gasped sharply and sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He pleaded through the tears.

His face was red and wet with tear tracks. His eyes were completely bloodshot and mostly closed, and he was shaking all over. You kneeled in front of him, and took one of his hands in yours. Your other hand went to scratch his soft curls and rake them over. He did it a lot to sooth himself, and you figured it might help.

"I'm here, baby," you told him. "Everything's okay. I love you. I love you, Marc." You moved your hand to cup his cheek and caress it, and saw that he was continuously mouthing the words "I'm sorry" through his anguished expression.

"It's okay. It's okay, honey. I promise. It's alright." You reassured him, and pressed his hand to your lips for a quick kiss. That drew loud, ugly cry from him. "Try to breathe with me, hun." You said and moved his hand to your chest, to feel your deep breaths.

He tried, bless his soul he tried, and ended up coughing and choking on his own tears, causing him to sob even harder. "I- Ah- I'm sorrrryyyyy" he whimpered miserably, so deep in his self flagellation he couldn't stop apologizing. For crying. For making a fuss. For not giving you space. For not being able to give you space. For making excuses. For existing.

"Okay," you took a deep breath for yourself and sighed with determination. "Let's get you up." You said and grabbed your boyfriend from under his arms. He grasped onto your arms to steady and pull himself up, as much as he could on his shaky legs.

You kissed his forehead, and the spot of his head he accidentally hit. You kissed his knuckles, and where he bit down on his hands. You kissed his cheeks, and his nose. That made him smile. You kissed his lips, which induced a fresh wave of tears, and then you kissed those as well.

Eventually, you got the both of you safely to bed. Marc looked horrible. Well not that he could really, being Marc, but he certainly looked like he was feeling horrible. At least it seemed as if the journey across your home shook him up enough to get his bearings. He was starting to realize what was going on, that none of his terrifying, intrusive thoughts were real, and that he had his very loving and loved partner right next to him.

Marc was starting to calm down. Loud, painful sobs reduced into sniffles. He probably disassociated a bit, as managing these attacks was still hard for him. But he had you. You laid him in bed, covered his shaking body and helped him take his slightly sweaty shirt off. You gave him a box of tissues from your nightstand to wipe his runny nose and tear stained face with. You hugged him when he clung to you like his life depended on it. Maybe it really was. Damn. You really fucking love him. Through EVERYTHING. And he loves you so, so much too.

He was safe, loved, cared for, important, appreciated, and for the first time in his life, thought he might deserve to feel that way.

You were each others' safe spaces.

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MASTERLIST

Just tagging some mutuals, no pressure!

@ivystoryweaver @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @romanarose @my-secret-shame @luke-o-lophus @spider-starry @eyelessfaces

#moon knight #my post #angst #fanfic #moon knight fanfic #hurt/comfort #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x male reader #marc spector x gn reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight angst

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starlight-writer · 1 year

Text

Tummy

Warnings: none, fluff, talk of insecurities, slight angst

Gn reader

An: I have returned and gayer than ever Masterlist

Steven

Steven’s always been slightly insecure

His hair was always too messy, his tend to ramble was embarrassing, and his hobbies and interests were too nerdy

And all of that was magnified when you started dating

He always thought ‘maybe this is what makes them leave me’ whenever he saw or did something he didn’t like about himself

The one thing he always liked about himself was that he was always somewhat muscular

He had decently toned abs and a respectively hard chest

So when he found he started growing a tummy, he was certain you would leave him

He started trying to hide it the best he could, hoping he could delay the imagined inevitable

He wore darker colors, cut back on the snacks he was eating, and started walking in the early morning

But nothing really worked

And he was noticeably upset about it

Ask him about it if he’s still upset after a few days

He’ll try to pretend it’s Donna being a bitch

Key word: try

He could never lie to you and keep with it

He would feel so guilty, he could never forgive himself for hiding anything from you

Sit him down and talk through his concern

Give him a kiss whenever he starts stuttering or trying to shy away from you

When he explains is worries, hug him

Hug him like his life depends on it

Tell him you love him and all his quirks and hobbies

And his tummy

Explain to him that having a bit of fat on his stomach or some extra pounds is ok

He knows it’s ok, he’d never insult someone for how they look or weight, but he needs to know it’s ok for him

He needs to know the things that make him who he is, you love every single one

He might start crying, so give him a kiss the top of his head

And tell him he’s beautiful

Every relationship he’s had has ended in flames, but he genuinely, wholeheartedly thinks that all of those failed relationships has led him straight to you

And he couldn’t be more ecstatic to have a domestic future with you

Marc

Marc already doesn’t like himself

He hates himself, actually

He sees himself as a terrible, dangerous person that doesn’t deserve happiness or love

So when he starts dating you, he doesn’t know if he should be proud or sad about it

What if you’re only dating him because you’re dating Steven and Jake?

What if you’re only with him out of pity of his sad, depressing life?

He’s always looking out for the day you fall out of love with him or reveal you never loved him

And it keeps him up at night

And then he found his tummy

Normally, he wouldn’t be upset by this

He knows weight gain is normal and as you grow and your environment changes, it can effect the way your body processes food and works

But he can’t help but feel so sad about it

What if this is the straw that breaks the camels back and you leave him?

He couldn’t handle that

He loves you with his entire being, how could he go back to living a life without you?

Marc isn’t good at hiding his emotions so you pick up on his shift in mood immediately

Ask him what’s wrong as soon as you notice he’s upset

He won’t be inclined to talking about it, he’s not used to it, but he’ll know you’re worried and that’ll help

Eventually, he’ll go to you on his own, so just be patient and occasionally remind him you’re here for him

When he does talk to you about his insecurities, he’s gonna avoid looking at you

Hold his hand and wait for him to finish

Maybe rub his back or place a hand on his knee, but don’t say anything

When he’s done, give him a

“Baby, it just means you’re happy, healthy, and being taken care of”

He’s gonna cry cause he knows you’re right

He is happy and healthy because how could he not be?

He’s with you

Give his nose a kiss and hold his face

Squish his cheeks and he’ll smile and hold your hands to his face

He’ll give them a kiss before pulling you into the tightest hug

To make him feel a little better, poke at his sides and tickle him

He’ll start laughing and tackle you to the couch, rolling around in pure happiness

After Layla, he didn’t think he could be with anyone again

His life was too dangerous and he thought he didn’t deserve anyone

He didn’t want to ruin someone else’s life, his was already depressing and full of death, what kind of man would he be to subject someone he loved to that kind of life?

But then he found you and you changed his entire world view

And by god he’s never letting you go

If he had the chance to redo anything in his life, he’s comfortable saying he wouldn’t change a thing

Because it all led to you

Jake

Jake takes pride in his appearance

He always makes sure his hair looks good before and after he has his cap on

His suit is always well taken care of, never folded or hung up without the proper covering

And now that he lives in a stable home with you, he has a skin care routine

And while Jake knows having some tummy and fat on your bones doesn’t mean you’re out of shape or not fit, having that extra meat on his bones is not how he sees himself as fit

He tries everything to work off his tummy, but it persists

And he’s so genuinely upset

He kinda pulls away from the relationship, unintentionally, but it happens

He focuses on why he can’t lose the few extra pounds he gained and solely on that, momentarily abandoning your relationship

When you confront him about it, it’s after you’ve realized why he’s upset

You caught him in the mirror frowning at himself and poking his stomach

It broke your heart

You’ll confront him about in the the morning while you two still lay in bed

“Jake?”

He’ll hum in acknowledgment but keep his eyes closed

“I love you.” “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Jake?” “Hm?” “I love you.” “Yo también te amo, cariño.”

“Jake.” You’ll cup his cheek. “I love you.”

Jake will open his eyes, slightly concerned

Why’d you say it so... heavy?

Like you meant something behind it

“Cariño?” “I love. You. All of you.”

His heart

He’ll smile and place a hand over yours, only moving it to place a kiss on your palm

“Thank you, mi amor.”

Later in the day, tell him he still looks as hot as ever, if not more and he’ll kiss you passionately

He’s never been in a relationship, at least not a romantic one, so this relationship means the entire world to him and you being there for him, comforting him over his anxieties is something he would never let go

It feels so domestic and he could tear up at the thought of having a future with you

Te amo, mi amor - I love you, my love

Yo también te amo, cariño - I love you too, honey

Cariño - Honey

Mi amor - my love

#my brother came up with the idea #credits to my bro #i was thinking about this all night #marvel #marc spector #marc needs a hug #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector x reader #Steven Grant #steven my beloved #steven grant x reader #steven grant x GN!reader #jake lockley #jake is baby #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #starlight writes

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aceswritingcorner · 11 months

Text

Yandere Beginnings

Marc Spector hadn’t expected to see anyone during certain hours of the night. Let alone someone who seemingly walked through the night with ease. Coming back from missions given by Khonsu was never easy- nor was going to them and getting the crap beaten out of you but that’s what was signed up for. Yet- seeing the way you walked against the cracked cement sidewalk to just sit by the fountain that housed coins from lost wishes.

No. No- He shouldn’t be thinking of stuff like that.

He still had Layla- there was someone to go back to even if he was afraid of what the god would eventually do. But the way the pale light basked against your eyes, making them shine in such mystifying ways. No. He had someone…

Steven Grant wasn’t paying much attention when he first heard. 'I’m just saying, there’re supposed to be nine gods on the banner instead of seven-‘ You were right. The banners were wrong but he had never expected to hear it from someone else.

The bright smile you had offered him before buying the Tawaret plushie had nearly made his heart pause- he could swear his life on it. Maybe there was some way he could see you again…

Marc had been the one to see you again. Of course, it had to be him. Nothing tended to get past the Avatar of Khonshu much these days.

'Give me the body.' "What? No. In case you hadn’t noticed Marcy-Marc, we are on a bus where people can see.“ The words muttered under his breath as he sent a small look to his reflection. 'Just give me the dang body.' "Not a bloody chance in hell. Today’s my day-"

Words trailing off the tip of his tongue as his eyes gazed at the newest person on the bus. It was his favorite museum-goer.

'Steven don’t you even fucking think about it!-' Oh ho ho this was definitely going to be a talk for later.

Jake Lockley had never bothered to get involved in the petty fights and bickering between the other two. There was better things to do than argue over whatever those two pendejos did. Especially when things were life and death and he wasn’t about to let the god that loomed over their shoulder choose.

One of the targets got away from his range, the imbécil had to get killed. Not unless he felt like having the damned bird get angry again.

The scene he had ran into was never something he expected to see. Bloodied knuckles and clothes, chest heaving from the unwarranted fight, you were definitely something interesting.

"Bueno, jódeme. Eres divertido.” (Well fuck me. You are amusing.)

———-

Khonshu never held himself to the thought of holding an interest to someone. He was the fist of vengeance for crying out loud! He brought justice to those that did wrong with his Avatar! Not some silly little worm that feuded over mundane things that could easily be fixed or ignored.

The idiots had been fighting non-stop over who got to see whatever it was this time.

'PAY ATTENTION!'

He had appeared in the small loft apartment, having to crouch to fit properly. Staff tilted to avoid the slanted ceiling.

'THERE IS MUCH WORSE TO FOCUS ON THAN SOME MORTAL. I DO NOT WISH TO CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WORMS ARE TRYING TO ARGUE ABOUT.’

“They know about you-” Marc spoke up, looking at the god as he sighed at the other two trying to switch in.

“Indeed they do and it is quite amazing as to how much information they know of Egyptian history,” Steven interjected promptly before Marc took control back.

“As I was saying. They know about you and apparently-"

"Can see you. Paloma.” Jake switched in, cracking the knuckles in his hand boredly. “The two pendejos finally figured it out and now they’re fighting about it.”

“THEY CAN DO WHAT? THAT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE." Wind picked up, loose papers flying through the apartment.

No one but their chosen avatar should be capable of seeing him. This shouldn’t be possible. No worm could see him. This had to be the work of something else-

He had to keep his attention on this worm then.

#moon knight #steven grant #mark spector #jake lockley #khonshu #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #mark spector x reader #mark spector x y/n #mark spector x you #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #khonshu x reader #t.w yandere #yandere insinuations

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thedevilsoftruth · 28 days

Text

Lesson

Paring: ( COMIC ) Mr. Knight x AFAB reader

Warning: porn with no plot, smut, Mr. Knights gloves, mdom/fsub dynamic, crying during sex, rough sex, unprotected, dirty talk, biting, use of, " baby/baby girl " ( 641 words )

Notes: tiny drabble. THIS IS COMIC MR. KNIGHT, SO THIS IS NOT STEVEN, THIS IS MARC. We need more comic MK smut, so I'm trying to make that happen. Im reading the midnight mission rn and I'm like.. so down bad for Mr. Knight rn I think I'm going crazy.

He wore white leather gloves. White leather gloves that would go onto his large hands that'd be circling around your swollen clit at the very end of his day when he needed you most. He would keep his clothes on, only sliding his pants down so he could enter you. He'd have you on his lap, your back against his his chest as his rammed into you and kept his face into the crook of your neck. He had his mask pulled halfway up to his nose so that he could kiss you when he wanted to.

This wasn't what he usually did after a long night of kicking people's ass, but he needed to blow off some steam. But you guessed he was getting bored of the same ol' same ol' because he pulled out and flipped you over on your back on the blue sofa in his office. He sat down on his knees and re-entered you, his thrusts starting out more aggressive than they were before.

" I hope you're proud of yourself. " he grunted, running his gloved hands smoothly down your thigh, lifting it and planting a tender kiss on it before biting down on your skin. You winced at the contact, legs shaking from the previous 2 rounds he had gone on you.

" You have very simple rules; don't bug me when I'm working. But you just had to come here, begging me for my attention, huh? " He said with a chuckle, grasping your breast and twirling your nipple around his thumb. Your eyes were watery and your nose was burning. Nothing left your throat but endless cries and pathetic moans. You felt weak under his control. He had you wrapped around his finger, but even though it was hell you weren't letting go.

" Looks like someone needs better training, hmm? " He chuckled darkly, pulling you closer and wrapping a hand around your neck. You let out a choked cry, and a cold tear ran down your cheek as his speed seemingly increased.

Mr. Knight enjoyed this position because he could see your face. He could see how you reacted when he touched you and could see the marks he left on you. In this instance, the torn pantyhose and wet thighs, the bite marks and the scratch marks. He brought his gloved thumb up to your lips, playing with them as they foamed out drool down the side of your face.

" Poor baby girl. can't even handle 3 rounds. You close? hmm? " He cooed, using his free hand to grasp your thigh as he felt you tightly clench around him. You could feel the muscles contract in your sex. This was your signal. Mr. Knight took the cue and slammed in as fast as he could, making you squeal and buck against him in anticipation.

" Mr.. Kni-- "

" Shut it. I don't want to hear anything from you right now. " He said angrily, putting his hand over your mouth and muffling your moans of pure pleasure. " all you need to do right now is cum for me like the good little girl you are. " He whispered, leaning down to kiss and bite on your collarbone. He sucked at the skin he bit, and you let out a tiny scream as you felt your release rising. Your pussy clenched around his cock as he fucked through your walls, signaling him you were close. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body convulsing around his every touch.

" c'mon, baby. come for me one final time. " he panted, giving you his final thrusts before you lost control and began leaking around his cock. Soonly after yours, he spilled his hot spend into your warm cunt and pulled you.

" I hope you learned your fucking lesson. "

#moon knight comics #moon knight #marc spector #mr. knight #mr knight x reader #Mr knight smut #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #jake lockley #steven grant #marvel smut #marvel comics #Mcu smut #comic mr knight #comic mr knight smut #marvel comics smut

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moonshynecybin · 14 days

Note

i wonder if vale watched and what he was thinking.... was he also torn between wanting to fuck marc into next week for that dance and wanting to put a baby in him (affectionate, not even that sexual) for hugging that little crying boy?

he talked with him for SO long and fully ignored the pr people trying to get him to come to the podium so he could pry off a knee pad and give it to him… and the crowd was hyping him up as he tried to get it off for like a full minute it was so cute…

it really was like. watching him work the crowd was so interesting because i call marc a neurotic little insular weirdo and he SO obviously is but also like. that is one of the most charismatic men alive. like oh my god. fr. and it’s not vale level (WHO would be) but it was THERE. and everyone loved mav and cheered for jorge martin but the ease and control marc had was crazy. he would wave and one hundred hands shot up. he would move and we would move with him. he got BOOED a lil and still EVERY person there would’ve fucked him im being dead serious. insane pussy he dropped it and everyone was literally in love with him i’m not even projecting. he’s GOOD at it !!! ESPECIALLY compared to maverick or jorge martin who were technically doing some of the same things but simply DID NOT have the sauce

#the singer guy also tried to get jorge martin to drop it and he did not !#motogp #callie speaks #asks #as a result my mom hates martin now lmao #cotablogging

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bensolosbluesaber · 2 years

Text

Someone Like You: Part 2 (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x Avengers f!reader)

Summary: Sure, you might have escaped with everyone alive, but the aftermath of using your powers is less than pleasant. And why is Marc Spector the one taking care of you? ~3,500 words (Part 1)

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Primarily Marc Spector x f!reader, Jake Lockley x f!reader, Steven Grant x f!reader

Warnings: DID mentions and lots of them, canon typical violence, blood and injuries, mentions of childhood trauma/abuse, disassociation and nightmares, not edited very well

A/N: I represented DID in this fic in a way similar to the show, or at least that was my intention. Please understand this is fictionalized and dramatized, but also please tell me if there are errors. I hope you all enjoy this!

Bruce passes Marc a glass of water, and he takes it in a shaky hand. The two men could be considered friends. Bruce could sympathize with Marc’s trauma - the little that Marc had shared, and Bruce understood DID in a way that none of the other Avengers could. Marc gives Bruce a tight smile then turns to Nat who has been explaining the situation.

“You sent her into my head,” Marc interrupts accusingly.

“It’s what had to be done,” Nat answers simply. Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Marc glares for a long moment then nods slowly. She is right. He doesn’t like it, but it’s true. Getting out had been nearly impossible even with your help.

“Ask if she’s alright,” Steven insists from the head space.

Marc’s hand tenses around the glass.

“Where is she?” He says instead.

Nat glances back at the other Avengers. Sam tilts his head, pondering something, and then nods. Bucky huffs with displeasure but doesn’t argue. All of the others already know about what you unaffectionately call the aftershocks.

“She’s dealing with the aftermath of a mind walk,” Nat explains.

“Which is?” Marc asks before Steven can butt in and do it himself.

Nat looks to Bruce for a more scientific explanation.

“It’ll be worse because she just mind walked yesterday,” Sam adds. “Sometimes we sit with her. Most times she wants left alone.”

“Her consciousness was inside yours, right? But at the same time, your consciousness was seeping into hers. Think of it like a sponge in a bucket of water. She’s the sponge. You’re the water,” Bruce explains. He was the one who had initially studied your brain to figure out what caused such dramatic aftershocks. His words are scientific and detached, not for lack of empathy but for excess of it. “Your consciousness needs to work out of hers. The sponge being squeezed. Unfortunately, she can’t really control it. She’ll see the worst memories of the person she mind walked into. They play through her head for a few hours like nightmares. Sometimes more of a dissociation. It’s... difficult.”

But Marc wasn’t listening anymore.

“She’s seeing my worst memories?” He whispers.

“Marc, this isn’t fun for her. She wasn’t trying to invade your privacy,” Natasha says, misinterpreting Marc’s concern as being for himself.

“She is seeing my worst memories?”

“Yes, but she-“

“Is someone with her? Right now, who is with her?” Marc jumps out of bed, ignoring Bruce’s protest.

“She wanted to be alone,” Bucky replies.

“You let her be alone!? While she is seeing my worst memories? Fuck!” Marc glares at him, and pushes past everyone and out of the room without another word.

He hurries down the hallway, the others close behind and calling after him until he busts through the door to the room he knows is yours.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky breathes when he sees you.

But it is Marc who is at your side first. Your eyes are wide and clouded and staring blankly at the door in complete disassociation. The chill of the room makes your skin prickle with goosebumps, and the occasional shiver runs across your otherwise still body. Disturbingly still. Your cheeks are wet with tears that are still flowing freely, and that’s unnerving in it’s own way. Your face is emotionless and empty, and yet you are openly crying.

Normally you would wrap yourself in a heavy blanket and hug some sort of stuffed animal. You would make sure your eyes were shut. You would find a comfortable position. You’ve done none of those things, so the Avengers know the aftershocks must have come over you suddenly.

Marc kneels beside your bed and smooths a rough hand over your cheek. No response. He thumbs a tear away, and looks back at the others. His brown eyes are wide and worried.

“I’ll stay,” Sam offers. “Buck did it last time.”

“I will.”

The four other Avengers all turn to Marc at the some time. They are not even bothering to hide their shock.

“You hate her?” Bucky states, although it’s more of a question.

“No he doesn’t.” Nat lets a small smile tug at her lips as Marc’s actions confirm what she has suspected for a long time.

“No, I don’t,” Marc confirms. “I’ve got her. My fucked up mind, my responsibility.”

“If you sit in bed with her, she can sort of sense a presence. If she feels safe, she might hold your hand. It’s not because she’s awake, just some subconscious thing,” Nat explains.

“Make sure she’s warm,” Sam adds and fixes Marc with a firm stare.

Nat guides the others out of room, giving Marc a last little sad grin on the way out. The door clicks shut.

Marc can’t tear his eyes away from you. You’d gone into his head, knowing this would happen, knowing that you’d see the worst parts of his life. None of the Avengers knew much about him, but they knew about his DID. You were smart enough to know what type of traumas caused that condition, the things you might see.

And you had been worried about him feeling violated.

A shiver makes you curl in on yourself, eyes sliding shut as you whimper so softly Marc barely hears.

“Get in the bed,” Jake mutters, and even his words are tinged with concern. “We’re warm.”

Marc looks down, realizing for the first time that someone had changed him into sweats and a t shirt. He hesitates for only a second before grabbing a blanket and sitting beside you. He leaves a few inches of space between your bodies and carefully drapes the blanket over you.

Your shivers diminish but don’t subside entirely as you grasp the blanket and draw it closer. Marc whispers your name, thinking you might be awake. No response. He stretches his legs out and watches while he takes calming breathes, not wanting to force Steven or Jake to the front unexpectedly.

What are you seeing now? What terror of his past are you being subjected to?

The cave is damp and cold, and even as the memory guides you into the cramped space after two little boys, you know what is going to happen. The water is icy cold as it rises around your feet, getting higher and higher as the screams get louder and echo back on themselves in an overwhelming cacophony of sound.

You want to scream, to escape, but you are as trapped and helpless as the boys, as Marc.

A warmth fills the space next to you. It’s unexpected and a sharp contrast to the cold water. It feels calmer, and part of your mind realizes it’s something in the real world even if you aren’t consciously aware of that fact. After a long pause you reach for the warmth, gravitating to the comforting feeling of the presence even as your mind pulls you violently into another memory.

Marc startles as your head falls on his thigh. A moment later your arm wraps around his waist. Without thinking, he smooths a hand over your hair and secures the blanket around your shoulders. He looks down at your face that is turned toward him, eyes shut, but there is no recognition of where you are or who you are with.

“Now you have to tell her we like her,” Steven tries to cut Marc’s nervous tension with some humor.

“Oh, it’s ‘we’ now?” Jake joins in on the gentle ribbing. “I didn’t realize I was pining uselessly too.”

Marc can find no humor as he feels your tears soaking through his pants.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he replies into the head space, using a harsh tone that silences the other alters. “She’s seen in our head. No one in their right mind wants within five feet of that mess.”

Marc tilts his head back and slams his eyes shut as he draws in a trembling breath. His throat hurts with the effort of holding back tears. He never wanted you to see these terrible parts of himself, so he had avoided you despite his attraction. All that time pretending to hate you had amounted to nothing.

Every so often you whimper and cuddle closer, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh and pressing your forehead against his stomach. You should have left him there in that prison of his own mind. If you had, you wouldn’t be suffering like this now.

Your skin is soft under his touch as he runs his fingers over your bare arm. He holds you like that for hours, sometime fixing the blanket. It’s not moving, but he does it anyway as a sort of nervous tick.

“Marc,” Steven interrupts that series of self-destructive thoughts with a gentle voice. “Easy, mate. You’re pulling me forward.”

“Sorry,” Marc apologizes quickly and swipes at his cheeks. Now he was crying too.

“S’okay,” Steven replies. “You shouldn’t think stuff like that though.”

Right as Marc is forming a reply, you jerk awake and pull back from whoever it is you’re laying on. Bucky, probably. He’s always warm and comforting.

After a long moment of composing yourself, you drop your hands to look up at Bucky.

Instantly you bury your face in your hands, swiping tears from your cheeks as your mind reels from the memories you had just witnessed. Over the years, you had become quite adept at not giving people ‘that look’ - the pitying and condescending look people give others after hearing about their past. But how the hell were you going to look at Marc now?

It’s not Bucky. No, it’s not Bucky at all. It’s Marc. You are stunned into silence for a few seconds, and the only emotion on your face has to be shock because Marc Spector - who hated you more than anyone ever had - just sat with you through your aftershocks. Marc Spector had let you cuddle up against him.

You draw the blanket closer. It is freezing in the room.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you assure him quickly in a voice tinged with sadness. That must be why he is here. Nat or maybe Bruce explained everything, and he’s afraid that you will tell the other Avengers about his past.

“I didn’t mean to see all that,” you continue when he says nothing. “I can’t help them, I swear. But I don’t tell people what I see in the aftershocks… ever. So, uh,” you stumble over your words as he continues to stare at you. “You don’t ever have to hear from me again. You can go.”

When he doesn’t, you turn and roll out of bed. Your bed. Your bed that Marc is in. The second you go to stand your knees buckle, and you crash to the ground

Now you’ve seen the worst parts of Marc’s life - of the system’s life - laid bare in front of you, and your emotions that should be numb to such things are as sensitive as exposed nerves. You are barely holding yourself together, and you certainly aren’t stable enough to maintain an authoritative tone to get control of this situation. Instead you are stumbling over your words and practically begging Marc to go.

Before you can register the pain of the fall, Marc jumps out of bed and is holding you around the waist and pulling you up. You grasp his shirt and in a wildly self-destructive moment press your head into the curve of his neck, breathing in his scent, letting his warmth calm you until you are steady enough to step back on your own.

“You’re cold,” you mutter, noting the goosebumps on his skin again. You pass your blanket over to him. “Here.”

He could never deserve someone like you. You can barely stand, are clearly on the verge of tears, and definitely cold yourself, and yet you are giving him your blanket without a second thought. You are worrying about what he needs instead of taking care of yourself. You’re too good for him.

“Stop that,” Jake growls from far back in the head space. “Help her if you’re so worried.”

“Easy on him, Jake.” Steven agrees with Jake, but he would have said it in a nicer way.

“What do you do now?” Marc still has his hands out in case you fall again, one holding the blanket.

“Eat. Drink water. Go back to bed,” you murmur and walk slowly past the attractive man without looking up. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Marc. You don’t have to be nice. This isn’t blackmail.”

He follows you all the way to the kitchen, abandoning the blanket on the bed. Marc stands with his arms crossed while he watches you dig through the fridge. Eventually you produce a Tupperware of soup (Thor has been experimenting with cooking since becoming a father) and pop it into the microwave.

Five seconds. That’s all the time you give yourself to school your expression into something that doesn’t reek of pity and turn to look at Marc. Three. Two. You watch the green lights tick down the seconds. One.

Marc speaks first, which is good because you had no idea what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

A beat. People didn’t usually acknowledge what you might have seen. On the rare occasions you mind walked into someone you knew, both of you pretended the aftershocks never happened. This acknowledgment is… refreshing.

“I’m sorry you had to live it.”

Marc takes a glass from the cabinet and fills it with water. He hands it to you then gets his own. Steven and Jake have gone, leaving him alone with you as you watch the microwave work and drink your water.

“Thanks for coming in after me,” he finally says. That’s the best way he knows how to concede that you were right about them needing help. “You knew the after-whatever would happen, and you did it anyway. So… thanks.”

The microwave beeps and you take out the soup.

“Aftershocks,” you correct.

“Pedantic-” He hesitates, meaning to make a joke but remembering his earlier use of the same word.

“Bitch?” You offer, a bit sadly. The insult still stings because you still like him. He’s an ass, but you still like him.

He looks down, suitably chastised, and even though you think he deserves it, you can’t help but feel a little bit bad. And confused. You aren’t sure what is going on, just that this is the longest real life conversation you have ever had with any part of the Moon Knight system. That and you’d woken up cuddling with Marc, who apparently your subconscious considered safe enough to cuddle with.

You can feels his eyes on you as you scarf down the whole container. Thor really had gotten good at cooking. The empty container gets abandoned in the sink. You’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Right now you have a round of nightmares to work through. That was the last part of the aftershocks- besides the days of exhaustion. Technically the nightmares weren’t caused by your powers. It was just the brain’s natural response to seeing traumatic events, part of your mind processing the aftershocks into your memory. Sometimes you didn’t even have nightmares. Sometimes they lasted for days.

You had a sickening feeling you had quite a few restless nights coming.

“’Night Marc.” You raise your glass to him in a mock salute, trying to ignore how good he looks in the moon’s glow, the only source of light in the kitchen.

“Wait!”

You’re already to your room, and you freeze, hand on the door, and turn to see him running down the hall.

“What did you see?” He stops right in front of you.

“Marc, I-” What can you possibly say that will convince him you won’t tell anyone? You don’t want his fake niceties or insincere gratitude. You don’t want him living in fear that you’ll out his traumatic childhood.

You look down and away from those big sad brown eyes. Then his hand settles hesitantly on your cheek and turns your head up.

“I don’t care if you tell people,” he starts, and his gaze captures your own. “I care if you’re alright, and if you saw even half of my worst memories then you’re not. You were in my head, and it’s a fucking mess in there. My mind is broken.”

He says the final word just as you whisper, “Beautiful.”

“What?” It’s raw confusion in his voice as he drops his hand and genuinely believes he misheard you.

“Your mind is beautiful.” You swallow hard, still holding that eye contact that makes you feel naked. “Whoever told you otherwise is wrong.”

There’s a brief moment where Marc’s cynicism wants to control his reaction, but as he studies your face, he can find no lie. His mouth moves, but no words come out.

“I’ve been in a lot of minds,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous, almost like you’re about to confess your feelings to a crush. “I’ve never seen any as elaborate as yours. Most people are just empty voids with some strange and inefficient filing system, but yours was like a whole world.” The words are coming faster now, and you can’t stop them. “And you’re strong. I always have control on my mind walks. I don’t get hurt, but I was bleeding. I had no control” Maybe you are doing the superhero equivalent of confessing feelings. “Your mind is incredible, Marc, and I’m so sorry for the things you went through that made it that way. But it’s not broken for creating what and who you needed to survive-”

Marc’s lips are warm. His lips are warm, and you know that because he is kissing you, cutting off your awestruck confession with a kiss so passionate you forget how to breathe. He covers your whole mouth with his, slipping his tongue into the kiss in a way that you would consider disgusting if it were anyone else. One of his rough hands is on your cheek, the other cages the back of your head, keeping you close and creating a barrier between your skull and the wall Marc pushes you into.

His whole body presses against you, and only then do you realize you’ve been kissing him back with just as much passion as he’s giving you.

When he finally pulls away, it’s only because even superheroes need to breathe. Marc’s forehead falls against yours as he takes an unsteady breath. Then another. His fingers are drawing small circles against your skin, a motion he doesn’t notice.

You look at his face- the red flush of his cheeks in the dim light, the small part of his lips, the broad swath of his nose that bumps against your own, those beautiful wide brown eyes that you want to melt into.

A potential love interest. That’s what Steven had said, and now you have time to really consider the implications of a comment you had been too busy to deal with earlier.

“Marc Spector,” you whisper his name like you’re saying a prayer. “You pretended to hate me to protect me from seeing inside your head, but all this time… all this time you had feelings?”

Marc feels the self-doubt creeping in.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, hermano,” Jake can hear Marc’s thoughts, knows what he’s about to say. “You say a thing about not being good enough for her, and I’m going to take the body and put our head through that wall.”

“Bloody hell, Jake! Don’t do- never mind. Alright look, Marc, it’s not up to us to decide if we’re good enough for her, it’s up to her. She clearly likes you, so… you know... keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Marc?” You bring your hands to his face. He has a shadow of stubble that is rough to the touch.

“Bruce said you might have nightmares. I’ll stay with you. If you want.”

It’s not a straight answer to your question, but it is definitely an answer. And it’s the answer you wanted. Marc likes you.

“You can stay, but they can get kinda bad.” You try to offer him an out, not wanting to scare him off when you wake up sobbing about a memory from his childhood. “I know you’re tired too.”

He’s having none of it as he shakes his head and pushes open your door, letting you lead the way inside. You change in your bathroom, brush your teeth quickly, and leave a spare toothbrush out for Marc. While he’s in the bathroom, you tuck yourself into bed feeling strangely nervous at the prospect of sleeping beside someone who was more than a platonic friend. It had been a long time since you’d done that.

You’re staring up at the ceiling when Marc crawls under the covers and turns out the light. He lays on his back too and feels for your hand to lace your fingers together.

“Can I- can I lay on you?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he drops your hand and opens his arms to you instead. You scoot closer and rest your head on chest, tossing an arm over his midsection, and pressing yourself close. He smooths circles across your back with his one hand and with the other toys with your fingers splayed across his ribs.

“Marc?”

“Hm?”

“I might have understated earlier.” Your voice shakes. Already your body is anticipating the nightmares, pumping anxiety inducing adrenaline through your system and making you tremble. “The nightmares are gonna be really bad, so you can leave if I keep you up.”

Marc leans forward to kiss the top of your head, a contact that is remarkably intimate. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m kind of an expert at sleepless nights.”

My Masterlist

Taglists (Want to be added? Click here.)

**This is a mess. Some people won’t tag. I’ve definitely missed people. I’m so so sorry!

MK Taglist: @love-on-the-murder-scene @bookfrog242 @irethepotato @graciexmarvel @simonsbluee @nagemasstuff @whovian378 @cringingmemeries @eerievixen @velyssaraptor @lethalbeautiful @mixerya92 @marrigold-2002 @sugarpunch-princess @slytherheign @simping-master-69 @bristark616 @kotonei-molyneux @slasherssexslave @luna-maximoff-22 @fantasy-is-best @dd242 @harrys-tittie @fandomgal64 @7minutes-tomidnight @deliciousblackfatcat @rqmanoff @xzombiealicex @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @femalemarvelself @hopefulfangirl24 @ale0m @a1tbunny @in-between-the-cafes @leh2393 @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @hopefulfangirl24 @hb8301 @mrsxreeves @alicetweven @woofgocows @blulemonades @alicetweven @queenie-rebel @snowinseptember @copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @chickenfoot6969 @splashofbi @maplemind @death-by-teacup @littlenosoul @local-mr-frog @knopewyattworld @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @sparkythefallen1 @bex-tk1 @rellasnowheenim @huitzilinthebudgie3 @brookiebarnes @aduckinpain @ashes-136667

MK Taglist who I’m having trouble tagging: @parkeeepingparker @hoe4fiction @1337animeami @stxrielle @kezibear @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @welcometostayingawake @jvstjewels @laters-gators12 @infinityparadoxloop @wolf-phoenix-lover

Other people who interacted with part 1: @spider-biter @brekkers-desigirl @elliaze @thescarletredwitch @calicokitkat @stargazingcarol @jupitersmoon167 @virtie333 @juneknight

Feel free to message me if you want taken off a list or untagged from this post!

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m00nsbaby · 8 months

Note

Hello :3

I hope I'm not bothering you and I hope this is okay to request, I don't want to push boundaries and make you uncomfortable because I know that I'm asking for a lot right now, but I was listening to Spotify and the song "We'll Never Have Sex" by Lieth Ross came on (it's a very good song and it really gets me in my feels, I really recommend listening to it) and my first thought was the Moon boys with reader who struggles with past SA and thinks of themselves a ruthless monster since the reader is an active mercenary (I don't know if you write for male readers or not but I'm politely asking if you can make the reader male please and thank you 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it's okay if not)

Sorry for rambling so much and asking for a lot of things from you, please don't feel rushed to make this and be sure to take care of yourself

The Nerve.

Moon system x M! Reader.

Tags & warnings. Mentions of death, hints of SA, violence, blood, abuse, inaccurate representation of DID.

Sorry for the amount of text on this writers note, lol: Hi!!! So, this is my first request!! :) And I have a lot to say lol.

To whoever sent me this request I want to thank them for trusting in me and my writing to make something that feels somehow personal and for being the nicest ever! <3 Don't say sorry for asking for certain stuff, I really from the bottom of my heart hope that this fulfills what you wanted to read <3

Word count. 2.9k

Summary.

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me, Not to take me home. It was simple, it was sweetness, It was good to know.

It had been a long time since the idea of death had ceased to matter to you.

When Bushman took everything from you and slowly immersed you in a world you never wanted to be a part of in the first place, you began to understand that perhaps whoever ended your life would be doing you a favor.

So when your mission turned into breaking into one of the neighborhoods protected by the vigilante in white to 'dispose of' some random person, you accepted without protest.

And that was basically the context of how you ended up like this, underneath him with his hands on your neck. You had put up a good fight; in fact, you could see how his chest rose and fell heavily with fatigue. In the end, your training was nothing compared to whatever was protecting him.

The air escaped from your lungs, your vision was blurry, and you heard him growl beneath the mask, your body was about to give in.

You were almost happy to know that this was finally the day. You stopped fighting, and in less than 10 seconds, the ceremonial white suit turned into an ordinary white and cream-toned tuxedo. The mask disappeared as well, and his startled expression filled your entire field of vision.

"Marc?" you whispered with a hoarse voice, and his orbs widened even more in surprise.

"Do you know him?" the vigilante murmured to himself, his hands trembling as he moved them away from your neck.

As much as you tried to hold on, your body gave in just a little while later, from exhaustion, shock, or perhaps the lack of oxygen in general.

The punishment for failing had been worse than you remembered.

It had been a long time since you had failed a mission.

Still, as you tended to your wounds, there wasn't much on your mind other than the encounter with Marc. Your Marc.

For several months now, you had come to accept the idea that he was dead, even if 'accept' for you meant crying in his name during the nights or using all your strength to pound your fists as a way to vent your anger for losing him.

Was it really him, or had your mind gone to him immediately when it thought you were about to die?

And if that was Marc, had he recognized you, or had the mask done its job well?

It was foolish of him to assume that you hadn't felt his footsteps behind you. He had been following you from at least four blocks away, and even though you knew it was him, you had no desire to confront him.

You were angry, of course, the rage at the thought of him trying to excuse his disappearance flooded you every time you stopped to think, but probably the word that would work best right now would be 'tired.' It was your day off, probably the only one in the week when you didn't stain yourself with blood and didn't have to deal with work.

And there he was, reminding you of every horrible detail of your life with his mere presence.

When your body pushed his against a wall in the nearest alley, both of you remembered that although he might be stronger, he would never be smarter.

He raised his hands in a sign of innocence, and you took the liberty to study his face in detail after so long. The same mischievous curl of hair always ran across his forehead, and his brow was furrowed, not out of annoyance or surprise, that had always been Marc's lifelong expression.

"What are you doing here?" You spat out the words with more bitterness than you would have liked.

He didn't respond. Apparently, he was still the same as always. When you let go of him, his body seemed even more tense.

"Oh, you're not going to answer, I get it," you nodded to yourself. You could swear you were going crazy. "If your plans don't involve killing me or attempting it like the other night, or maybe speaking and using your damn mouth for once, I want you to stay away from me."

He was not able to say anything or to follow you.

Unfortunately, what Marc didn't anticipate was that your encounters wouldn't be solely with him, as there were two other individuals in his head waiting to come out at the slightest provocation.

The second time around, Jake was in charge, and somehow, he had even less control over his punches.

"Who are you, niño bonito?" (Pretty boy.) You groaned in pain as his foot on your chest forced you to stay on the ground, catching your breath. "Why is Marc so interested in you, huh?"

You didn't respond; in fact, you didn't even believe you had processed his questions. Instead, you pulled on his foot, the same one that was on top of you, and brought him down in a thud. You felt the hint of a smile on your face.

"Mierda." he muttered under his breath, and without giving him a chance, you escaped from him.

You had a million theories in your mind. With all your time in that world, you knew inside and out every kind of torture imaginable, and the idea that Marc's memory was failing didn't seem so far-fetched.

That, or he simply wanted to pretend he didn't know you, although that made much less sense. Either way, he was an idiot for injuring your shoulder tonight.

Then you had an encounter with Steven, and it was much more enlightening than the previous three. You almost killed him when you saw him in front of your apartment, with those puppy-dog eyes and soothing himself with a hand game. You noticed that his sleeves were longer than his arms.

Hah.

"What do you want, Marc?"

"I don't…" A funny accent. You caught it in the first few seconds. "I'm not Marc."

That led to a conversation that the mentioned one probably wouldn't have enjoyed because Steven took it upon himself to tell you in detail everything that had happened in the months when you hadn't been in contact with your ex-best friend and former mission partner.

You knew about his mother, you knew Marc's tumultuous past and how all of that had led him to belong to one of the largest and most terrible groups of mercenaries and thieves on the continent, but it turns out the idiot never told you another result of the trauma.

Dissociative Identity Disorder.

You had a faint understanding of how it worked, and Steven seemed so nervous that you were afraid to ask for a deeper explanation. The whole situation gave you an exceptional headache, but the real story was nowhere near as crazy as half of the theories you had in mind for days.

Oh, and you also understood that he didn't seek you out by his own choice.

"I can understand why he can't stop thinking about you," Steven said as gently as he could after a few prolonged minutes of silence.

It was surprising how he managed to make his voice not sound like he was flirting with you, just a sweet confession, accompanied by a nervous smile.

"He wants to talk to you but doesn't know how." It was the next thing he said, understanding that it was time to leave and leave you alone; you had a lot to think about.

Your feet dangled at the edge of a building's ledge as you sipped your beer as if you'd been thirsty for days, Marc was doing the same beside you. Both of you laughed at nonsense, so close that your shoulders brushed against each other. "We're heading back home," you murmured with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the cold breeze hitting your body. Marc was looking at you, he always did. Over time, you understood that returning from your missions was never really coming home; Marc was your home. "If you let yourself get shot again, I'm going to kill you myself." You laughed with your eyes closed; your leg still hurt. After long minutes of silence, the other's hand found its way to your chin. And you opened your eyes, looking at him with confusion. His fingers gently pressed against your skin, and you obediently leaned in. He was so close. You could smell mint and beer on his breath, his eyes seemed to shine brighter than the stars that night. The daydream lasted briefly, before you could react, your entire body was pulling back, rejecting him in the full meaning of the word. Marc didn't insist after that day; he understood well what your expression of fear meant.

You woke up drenched in sweat, your breath ragged as if you had run a marathon. You no longer had to bear the idea that Marc had left without knowing that you felt the same way he did, but things had changed so much that you weren't even sure if he had come back.

Marc began to let Jake take charge when you played this little game of the cat and the mouse.

You weren't going to yield, and it wasn't out of a passion for the job; you knew what failing meant to Bushman. You had experienced it more times than you would have liked since Marc had disappeared that night in Cairo.

Jake was more�� aggressive than usual; you could feel it in the force with which he struck.

In a moment of distraction, you stopped his fist with your hand, and although you couldn't see his face, you knew you had taken him by surprise.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" He growled. His accent allowed you to recognize him, just like with Steven, who had told you all about the two of them.

"Until you give up," you squeezed his fist between your fingers, "or kill me."

You felt him suddenly stop pressing when you said that. The mask disappeared in front of your eyes, and he tilted his head slightly to the side as he examined you with his eyes.

You rewarded him by removing your mask, letting him see your face. You heard him gulp.

"¿Quién eres?" (Who are you?) He whispered, and both of you let your guard down in seconds.

You didn't answer, just as Marc would've done, and the truth was, you didn't even know who you were. His now-enemy? An old friend of Marc? Now a stranger?

It turns out that one of the many nights you crossed paths, Jake and you were able to talk. In some other circumstance, you would have joked about how you liked him better than Marc.

He was more friendly when he wasn't trying to break your ribs.

"What happened?" You feared the question, but maybe it would be fair to let it out for once in your life.

"He was…" You cleared your throat, searching for what to say. "He was very special to me." You didn't have the strength to say he was your everything. "My best friend."

Both of you had met while working for Bushman, and the connection was undeniable for both.

And although you adored him, you thought you were crazy when you felt him brush his hand against yours, or when he hugged you as if he wanted to squeeze the oxygen out of your lungs when he found you alive at the end of a mission.

Jake understood why he felt so drawn to you, where that strange feeling of nostalgia came from when he saw you.

"Do you miss him?" The question hurt more than the blows, and you realized that you had never talked about this with anyone, as if Marc were only a product of your solitary imagination.

Of the three, Jake was the one who had lived through and seen the worst things as Marc and Steven's protector, so it wasn't hard for him to understand what you had faced throughout your life.

And the truth was, he was afraid to ask. He was afraid to go too far because his mind sent him to something as personal as it was terrifying.

He realized it in probably the least reasonable way for both when your late-night conversations gave him the idea that maybe you felt the same way he did, even though he wasn't Marc. He leaned forward, and his lips collided with yours. It felt right, a strange feeling of 'finally.' You reciprocated, your lips gently brushing against his in a gesture as intimate as it was delicate.

The problem came when he rested a hand on your thigh for stability as he leaned forward. Your heart stopped.

The fear was almost paralyzing, almost. Not enough for you not to push him away, and Jake obeyed without exerting force, although he did look at you confused, worried.

You had to blink many times to try to clear your vision. momentarily, it was as if Jake's face merged with someone else's. Your eyes filled with tears, your body suddenly rejecting his before running away.

You didn't see them for the next two weeks, and you continued to move in the shadows, this time without interruption. At least they wouldn't get you into trouble.

Although the rule didn't apply to Steven Grant, who was trying to get your attention with his ridiculous white tuxedo while you cleaned a wound on your cheek.

"What's up, Steven?" Your voice was so soft that even he was surprised. To Jake's panic, he could swear you were disgustingly upset with them.

"Jake feels sorry." That was the first thing he said.

And you laughed.

"Why?"

"For not asking for your permission." Well, that was new.

Did anyone ask for it?

You took longer than you would have liked to confront Marc, he was probably as reluctant to these encounters as you were. He visited your apartment and didn't even greet you.

But you understood. You understood as you had been understanding for a long time, and you let it pass.

You spent the evening with your head in his lap, and he touched your hair delicately as if he were going to hurt you. Quite ironic after the number of blows you had received from him.

Or from his body, rather.

You had never been with him… like this. The closest had been that night on the rooftop.

Marc ran his hands through your hair as much as he wanted to, but he never went beyond your neck; he could feel your body tense when his fingers grazed your skin. He understood it, and from the darkness, Jake did too.

The issue wasn't him, and it wasn't you either.

Do you ever think about them?" Jake looked at you, curious.

"Them?"

"The ones affected."

Ah, them. He pressed his lips together as he thought about what to say; if Marc was bad with words, he somehow was even worse.

"I try not to."

You nodded slowly, satisfied with the answer. He had stopped chasing you a while ago; he had other methods to distract you from your missions, although you never told him what that resulted in. Maybe he already imagined it, or he was so focused on you that he never noticed.

He placed his hand over yours and looked at you intently for a brief moment, as if confirming that you were okay with it. You moved your hand to entwine your fingers together.

He gave you a squeeze, catching your attention.

When you looked at him, he gave you a smile.

"I'm here." Just what you wanted to hear.

Your invitation surprised Steven, who, although he understood that there was something between you, didn't know to what extent because of how volatile you were.

Thankfully, Steven was the most careful and innocent person you could know, so your invitation to sleep together was taken just as that, with no jokes involved.

You spent the early hours talking about everything, and somehow, although the four of you spent more time talking than you thought, the conversation never seemed to end. And as expected, you got to that topic.

You were crying, as you had started doing for some time now.

"I don't deserve you."

"What are you talking about, love?" He laughed in genuine confusion. One of his arms was around you, and you felt his warm breath on your neck.

"I'm not… I…" You mumbled, taking a breath. "I'm a bad person."

You felt him tense behind you; suddenly, he was holding you tighter against his chest, and you didn't feel fear. In fact, you could swear you felt a deep need for more contact from him.

"M-Marc, he's…" Another sob from you, why was it physically painful to express your feelings? "He's fixing the things he's done, you know?" You had to take a breath to continue. "The people I've hurt, the things I've done…"

Steven moved his hand up your body, and his hand pressed against your chest as if he needed to feel the beats of your heart for comfort. He didn't know what to say.

"You're not a bad person." He made you cry even more, if that was possible.

"I, I don't…"

"Shhh." He exerted more pressure on your chest to make you feel your own ragged breathing. "You're not a monster."

Steven had thought something similar about himself; he knew well what you were feeling.

And Marc, and Jake.

That's all you needed to hear to know that you were in good hands, even in this moment when you felt nothing but the urge to cry.

He got you.

The number of scars on your body already exceeded the space you had in your memory to remember all the horrible stories they told. And yet, Steven kissed them all.

Hii, i'm not doing tag list on this one because of the themes I talked about :)

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melodygatesauthor · 11 months

Text

The Men in the Mirror - Part One

Jake/Steven/Marc

Not Beta Read - Masterlist

Summary

After another failed date, Steven finds himself alone again, feeling the weight of his perpetual loneliness crushing him. One thing he's forgetting though, is that he's never alone...not really.

Tags/Warnings (for entire series)

NSFW, self-cest, Marc has DID, headspace sex, dirty talk, anal creampie, masturbation, secret relationship, one-night stands, p in v creampie, anal sex, vaginal sex, m/m, jake/steven, jake/steven/marc, marc/jake, marc/steven, anal fingering. I KNOW THIS IS SOMEWHAT OF A TABOO TOPIC, DON'T READ IT IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT. K THX.

Word Count: 1.6k

Steven stepped into his dingy flat, slamming the door behind himself and flopping on the couch in a huff. He covered his face with his hands, groaning deeply in frustration. He felt empty inside, like there weren’t any emotions left for him to give. Until he let the dread set in…the dread that he was a thirty-eight year old man who couldn’t land a girlfriend to save his life. He was going to be alone forever.

Why was it so difficult? He was a smart, kind, gentleman; he was everything women said they wanted. Thanks to Marc, he even had a good body, not overly toned but certainly fit. Out of the corner of his eye, Steven could see Jake in the television screen. He didn’t feel like talking to him right now, so he lay down and turned his head to the side.

“You know I’m in your head, right? The reflections don’t stop me from talking to you, pendejo.”

“Not in the mood for you to be mean to me right now Jake.” Steven pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and curled up in it.

It was quiet for a moment, but Jake finally piped up, “she wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

Steven sniffled, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. At those, uncharacteristically kind, words from Jake, Steven turned around to look at the television again. He wiped his nostril on the sleeve of his coat.

“What do you mean by that?” Steven asked in a low voice, expecting the pleasantries to fade now that the other alter had Steven’s full attention.

“Look at you, sure you wear your baggy shirts, and maybe a comb wouldn’t hurt but–”

“You’re not really–”

“-BUT…you are good looking, and you have that adorable awkward thing going that I know some women lose their shit over.”

“Well, none of the ones I’ve been talkin’ to then.”

After yet another deafening silence, save for the ticking of the clock, Steven decided he would do the one thing he normally did to get over a rough date and started working on unbuttoning his pants. It didn’t always work, but it would at least help take his mind off it.

“Time f’you to go mate, gonna have a minute to m’self yeah?”

It was either spend the next several hours crying, or have a good wank so he could at least tire himself out so he could sleep. It wasn’t like this was new, him going home alone after a date. He wasn’t going to mope this time though. Steven pushed his pants down to his thighs along with his boxer-briefs. He wasn’t even hard, he didn’t know why he was doing this other than he just wanted to try and feel good…to feel something.

He just looked at his soft cock, flopped against his inner thigh as though it were dejected as he was. He ran his hands over his face in frustration, he couldn’t even bring himself to jerk off. As he started to pull his pants back up, he heard Jake clear his throat.

“I told you to go away Jake, can’t I get a minute alone please?”

Steven looked at the television again, and there Jake was, staring back. He always had that little mischievous smirk, as though he were up to something naughty. Steven’s chest felt heavy, like he was about to cry, but he didn’t want to spend another night sobbing into his pillow and then have to explain to Marc why their eyes were red and puffy in the morning.

“I don’t think that’s what you really want…is it Steven?” Jake said finally.

“No, I’m pretty sure that I do want to be alone, from you anyway” he said, continuing to tug the pants up.

“Listen, I know what you’re trying to do, let me at least help you get started, si?”

“That’s a bit…well…odd innit?” Steven stopped trying to cover himself now. He was admittedly intrigued by Jake’s proposition.

“Doesn’t have to be. Just helping you amigo, nothing strange about that. Besides, we share a body don’t we?” Steven shrugged and nodded, seeing that Jake had a point, “so just let me get you going, alright?”

Steven pulled the pants back down, “okay, alright yeah.”

This was strange, but Steven was willing to try anything at this point. Not to mention, Jake wasn’t always the most helpful, so if he was going to try and be nice for once, Steven wasn’t going to question it. He sighed heavily, looking at his soft cock again.

“Okay, close your eyes for me and listen.” Steven did as Jake demanded, closing his eyes tight. “Bueno. Now, do you remember that waitress from the diner a few weeks ago?”

“Erm…yeah…I think I do.” Steven looked over at Jake.

“Close your eyes.”

Steven shut them again quickly, “I remember the waitress. She had pretty hair and eyes.”

“Si, that’s the one. You know I went back later and offered her a ride home. Only made it halfway to her place before she was bent over the center console sucking my–”

“How is this supposed to be helping?” Steven asked, keeping his eyes closed.

“Okay then,” Jake was going to need to get more creative since painting the picture of sex didn’t seem to be working for Steven. He softened his voice a little, what if he coached him? “Drag your fingertips from your balls all the way to the tip then. Tell me how that feels.”

Steven hesitated, unsure of how he felt taking masturbation orders from Jake, but he complied anyway. The smooth pads of his fingers felt good against the softness of his cock. The nerve endings in his length came alive as he reached the tip. It pulsated a little under his touch.

“F-feels good,” Steven’s voice broke in a breathy whine, “what else should I do?”

Jake was surprised that Steven wanted him to say more, but he was happy to help him get through this. It was the least he could do. He wouldn’t admit it yet, but he liked the idea of watching Steven come undone because of his words alone.

“Go back down again and grip the base…si, just like that,” Jake’s voice was gruff in Steven’s head.

“Okay, thank you Jake this has been really helpful,” he said, now that he felt his erection growing between his fingers, “you don’t have to stay I–”

“Sh, keep going compadre, start jerking yourself off for me.”

Steven did as he was told, but felt a shiver up his spine at Jake’s words. For me, he’d said. Steven had only heard him talk like that when he had some girl in the apartment with her face buried in the mattress and Jake’s cock buried in her cunt. She’d be a drooling fucked out mess, and Jake would tell her, ‘that’s it bebita, you’re so wet ‘for me’, feels good’.

Steven gulped, tossing his head back at the feeling of his firm upward stroke. He knew how to pleasure himself, he’d done it many times before after all, but this time it was different. He knew Jake was watching, and something about the alter’s encouraging words made it feel even better. Steven sat up, collecting a glob of saliva and dropping it down over the length of his cock.

“Good idea, start moving a little faster, tell me how good it feels.”

Steven shuddered out a moan, grabbing the couch cushion underneath himself and squeezing it roughly. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten as his body convulsed at the sensation surging through his cock. When Steven looked down he could see how much he was leaking from the slit in his reddened tip. He’d never been so hard before.

“Jake, it feels so amazing, tell me more please–oh-God-please-don’t-stop,” Steven said between breathy moans.

A chuckle escaped Jake while he continued, “Okay Steven, just keep going. You’re doing well, you’re very good at following directions.”

Steven squeezed harder, feeling the precum leak down his length and coating his fingers. Everything was so slippery and slick. The flat was filled with the sounds of Steven’s pleasured groans and wet strokes. He started moving faster, even breaths punching out of his lungs the more he jerked himself.

“Feels nice when you talk to me like that,” he said breathlessly, “is it weird? It’s weird right–oh shit I don’t even care.”

Jake didn’t care if Steven thought it was weird either, because he was enjoying it too. No one knew their body like they did, and so no one knew how to satisfy him like Jake did. It was just a fact, and he was more than happy to see Steven squirming under his own hand to Jake’s words of encouragement.

“Just relax Steven. Focus on the way it feels heavy in your hand. Think about how thick and–”

“I-is this what you think about when you–”

“Steven, don’t talk, just listen.” Steven mumbled and nodded. “Good boy.”

He’d never come so fast by his own hand in all his life. The words had no sooner left Jake’s mouth when Steven’s head flew back and he was thrusting his hips upward into his fist. A choked sound left his lips while hot spurts coated his cock and fingers. He was coming so much, rasping moans into the apartment while his spend trickled down over his hand and onto his pubic hair and thighs.

Steven only realized he’d nearly bit off his bottom lip after mind was cleared from the fog of his orgasm. His body fell limp, spent and sated. He was careful not to touch anything while he reached to the coffee table for a tissue. He looked into the television to say something to Jake, and only saw himself looking back.

Jake was gone.

----

Moon Knight Masterlist

Marc/Jake/Steven Masterlist

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huitzilinthebudgie3 · 8 months

Text

Nuestra Flor

Summary : Marc had a shitty day…and suddenly there's a Baby waiting at his doorstep………

What's Marc gonna do ? What's a guy to do ?

Notes : I know it's kinda out of order but , my minds kinda like a squirrel and this is kinda theraputic for me. I hope you guys like it , because it's not really what is seen in Para ti Papa..this is just a bit into how i think Marc , Steven and possibly Jake would've handled raising a baby girl.

And i know it's not mentioned but , it is not as canon to the show as it should be…i caught it and Steven and Marc know about eachother….but Jake is still hidden.

So it'll be interesting …..

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Marc was having a shitty day , he was getting home from work. He had to make dinner before Layla got home …he had laundry…a room and bed to clean ….he sighed slumping down onto the couch down and someone was ringing the doorbell. He frowned and sighed walking over to said door as he opened it glancing around to find it empty. Before he was met with small coos…he blinked at the small bundle wrapped in a bright red soft blanket that was wrapped with a teal and gold quilt that supported the baby in the carrier. The baby was blowing raspberries and cooing to itself as it stared at him with a curious look before giggling and kicking it’s small plush toy out of the carrier.

Marc frowned, leaning down to read the note on the baby’s lap, as the baby babbled at him reaching out to touch him as he shrunk back and read the note that had a birth certificate. Social Security and all the paperwork that a baby its age would need to travel.

The note made Marc glance from the note back to the baby as he repeated the action twice before sighing deeply “There is no way , your mine” he murmured before flipping to the next page with a full blown paternity test confirming that he was indeed the father of said baby.

He sighed as he shut the door and getting ready to call the cops to take the baby as he threw the papers down. Well as soon as the door closed , the speed and sound of the old heavy door was enough to make a loud slamming noise that apparently startled the baby as it began wailing at the top of their lungs.

His already shitty day was much worse as it didn’t stop after 5 minutes..nor 10 mins or 15..and at 20 it did stop but , he was curious so sue him. He opened the door to find the baby sniffling as it whined for the small plush. The baby according to her birth certificate was around 4 months old , and according to the note…sent to him as a last resort. To let the little one to get to know her father, as her mother apparently (Shitty mother in Marc’s opinion) couldn’t keep her and knew she deserved better.

So he sighed grabbing his keys to at the very least leave her at the Fire Station. Give her a chance to live a normal life with whichever family member was written on the letter.

And he was mind made up , on the steps of the fire station when the baby babbled softly reaching out with big wide brown eyes touching his hand before giggling at his attention and fixed him with a toothy smile (as much as a 4 month old could manage).

Fate has a really crazy way of throwing you hurdles…for Marc it was Steven fronting as soon as the baby touched his hand. Emotionally he couldn’t handle the idea of his blood in the broken system possibly suffering just as much as he did to someone not related to her or even getting dealt a worse hand as he sighed mentally letting Steven take the reigns. So he decided to take her to a family member and ensure she was safe with said family member.

*2 weeks later*

It was interesting that the baby had appropriate traveling documents , as he stared at the baby . He’d purchased a set of clothes for it according to age and food, it didn’t like the car. He was currently in a diner eating breakfast as the baby cooed happily in his direction …so far other than being car-sick or teething it seemed , it wasn’t a very cry crybaby.

“Aww she’s cute , how old is she ?” Marc quirked a brow “4 months ?” he said as the waitress hummed “Oh i’ll just wait for your mama , pumpkin” she smiled booping her nose as the baby yawned stretching out to bat at her toys hanging from the handle “Oh just us , we’re heading to visit mama” he explained.

The waitress nodded, taking his order as he stared at the baby again “Don’t go getting attached , half-pint. You're going straight back to your mom or whoever's at this address” he said firmly as the baby giggled and kicked in excitement. She babbled in excitement but not yet having the articulation to quite form cohort sentences.

Steven was strongly against taking the baby back to her other family members or back to her own mother. He also called the baby by its name clearly looking to get attached in his opinion.

Marc sighed distracted by his ringing phone that had Layla’s contact…ringing and eventually stopping as another voicemail found it’s way into his contacts. In the grand age of 2008 , this baby couldn’t have chosen a worse time to make their presence known. He glared wondering exactly where this baby came from , Steven had no recollection of being with someone or even getting intimate…which Marc confirmed …as Steven ..had yet to get a girlfriend.

And Marc had only been with Layla for months…except the kidnapped…and drunken portion of the…past few months before Layla had saved him.

…..

… And suddenly this small being before him made sense…clearly he’d been with someone..he’d put that together a few days ago……………..

But how the hell was he going to explain that one ? To his wife , when it’d been his fault to begin with that he’d taken and more so that ….*sigh* he didn’t have time for this.

The small little being was cute..he had to give her credit for that “Flora..what kinda name is that ?” he murmured as the baby cooed at that reaching out for him “Flora…you look more like a y/n …but i’m not keeping ya..so thats that” he sighed drinking the black coffee as she blew a raspberry his way.

*2 months later*

He finally found the mother of the baby , he was currently trying to talk her into keeping the baby….but she ignored him and kept walking. Refusing to acknowledge him before he set the baby down “Hey i returned her ! I’m married , you psycho !” the woman quirked a brow…she was beautiful in way that was different to Marc.And it hurt Marc…for some unknown reason…well at the time…that he could see how torn she was as she squated down and caressed the baby's cheek. Cooing words of love and affection as the baby giggled , knowing the face and kindness of her mother as she reached out ..probably craving it from a lack of it in a month. He could tell that her soul was hurting as she glared at him “I can’t keep her…she’s your responsibility now.” she said firmly “You must swear that she must never been an avatar” she said softly as Marc snorted “I’m an avatar smart ass” the woman rolled her eyes “Pues si pendejo ! I’m talking about Khonshu…Khonshu has a soft spot. He has no relation to her outside of her being your daughter. My deity is related distantly …and unlike Khonshu…she will never be able to be free of mine. I do not give her to you lightly!” the woman yelled as the baby cried out at that as the woman sighed deeply.

Her anger melting away as she picked her up briefly rocking her gently muttering a small lullaby , Marc presumed as she walked over to him “I can’t have her live my life. And i can tell her soul and heart will be kind…she will be unable to deny her birthright” she sighed softly “And as much i want to keep her and see the person she grows into…i can’t…she can’t be tied to me . I fear he’ll be able to claim her” she said softly “So take , my sweet little flor. And grow her into the strong little rose bush that she will be” she said softly as tears dripped down her cheeks “Because i know my father will , and if you want he can help..but as the current avatar until i have a child or i die..i’ll be the avatar of my god” she sniffled setting the baby into his arms.

Marc hadn’t even realized that he was crying until the woman kissed their daughter cheek and left apologizing once again.

*2 months later*

Marc sighed as he sat in his and Steven’s shared apartment …he let Steven front over…and so far so good. He helped from time to time…and they had the baby and were going to try and get used to her and the idea of her before bringing Layla into this…because it was a pretty fucked situation no matter how you spun it…….

And the baby just barfed on herself…sigh…whelp enough journaling for today.

Talk to you soon , Baby Girl.

I hope you know I love you , and even if i’m not around…and if our start together wasn’t the greatest…i love you , bud…

….My Y/n

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End Notes :

Thank you again for reading , let me know if you like it.

Here's a link to my AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huitzilinthebudgie

And have a wonderful day or night :)

#moon knight x reader #my masterlist #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector #moonknight #khonshu x reader #o.c #khonshu #BABY!READER #BABY! OC NAME

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