#marc spector x reader smut

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[luvrxbunny]

comfort

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader

Prompt: Creampie

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, loss based nightmare, piv, unprotected sex  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.4k

A/N: my first marc spector fic!! woohoo!! not proofread but i hope you guys enjoy!

He wakes up frantic and panting, reaching blindly through the sheets until he feels your warm body and breathes a sigh of relief. His hand grips into the meat of your thigh as he takes slow deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His eyes were frozen shut, still flipping through the images of you getting hurt on his watch, of Khonsu getting a hold of you and turning you into someone he didn’t recognize.  

His eyes snap open and he sits up, leaning over you to examine your face. You still look like you… He rests his hand on your cheek, feeling your warmth before moving to your neck and breathing out another sigh of relief when he feels your veins pumping blood under your skin. His hands shake around your neck, adrenaline pumping through him at how vivid it felt. He could feel the dread, the fear, and despair of living on without you, he could feel all the dark feelings you’d chased away creeping back into his heart. 

You groan and your eyes blink open, Marc takes his hand away like your neck burned him, upset with himself for waking you up. Your eyes take a moment to focus and you’re smiling up at him as you squint, trying to focus on his face. It’s warming his heart, your little fire already sending all his bad thoughts away. Once your eyes focus your smile drops and a hand comes up to rub through his hair as you sit up a bit. “What’s wrong?” 

Your words, your soft movements, and your care have tears springing to his eyes in an instant. He averts your gaze, trying to hide the tears that now cloud his vision, you notice despite his efforts and you climb onto his lap immediately, pulling his head to cradle it to your chest. His hands slide up your back as he tries to stop his tears from falling from his eyes. You’re whispering sweet words to him, comforting him, and letting him know that he’s safe with you. “Had a dream.” 

He grits the words through his teeth but they still come out weaker than he’d prefer, letting you in on how badly it’s affected him. You coo out and leave silence, waiting for him to continue, and although he thought he wouldn’t want to talk about it, that he’d just want to move on from it- something about your embrace makes him want to open up. So he does. 

“He took you. Khonsu, and- You weren’t.” He takes a deep breath as you play with his curls and his arms tighten around you. “You weren’t you anymore.” You coo at him again and it brings a new wave of tears, pushing the others down his cheek and falling onto your tank top. “I’m not going anywhere, love.” You whisper into his hair before bringing your hands to his face and tilting it to make contact with his teary eyes. 

“I’m definitely not making a deal with him, and even if I did… Nothing could change my love for you, it’s the only constant, the only thing you’ll never have to worry about losing.” You place a featherlight kiss on his nose and one on each cheek before smiling against his lips. He crashes his against yours, his arms lock you in place as he pours gratitude into his kiss, thanking you for everything you do, for everything you are. You giggle adorably against him and deepen the kiss, timidly sliding your tongue over his lips and sliding it in once his mouth opens with a moan. His hands slide up your back to cradle your head, holding you in place as his tongue slides around your mouth. He can feel a pressure building in his cock, right beneath your clothed pussy and all his blood is rushing south. 

His kisses grow a bit frantic and his hips tilt up into you, needing some pressure on his growing erection as you whimper quietly into his mouth. His lips leave yours for your neck, pressing wet kisses to your skin and moaning at the way your hand grips his curls, guiding his lips to where you want him, and holding him in place when he finds your most sensitive spots. His hands slide down to your hips, pressing your pussy against him for a moment before hooking his fingers under the band of your panties. You moan his name softly, not wanting to break the silence of the moment and his cock throbs at the sound. 

You maneuver his head to connect your lips to his again as you lift your hips off of his lap, helping him take your panties off before sitting back down on his bulge. He swears he can feel your pussy leaking onto him, soaking his underwear in your juices, leaving a little reminder for him. He thinks about how your scent would seep into the fabric and his hips jerk into you at the thought, shoving a shocked yelp from your lips at the rough material on your clit. Your hands reach for his shoulders to ground yourself, trying to cope with the way his movements are affecting your brain. “N- Marc, I want-” You’re unable to get your sentence out because Marc hasn’t stopped thrusting against you, he can’t. 

Your face is contorted in pleasure, frozen around syllables of whatever you’re trying to say and why would he want to stop that? His eyes are fixated on your expression, how your eyebrows furrow when his movements border on pain, and how they pull inward when he rubs against you in a way that has you shivering in his lap. Your hands leave his shoulders and press into his chest, telling him to stop with your pathetic whimpers. His hips slow down begrudgingly and his hands come back up from your hips to your face, resting on your cheeks. “You okay? Are you okay?” He’s breaking his sentences up with short, frantic kisses, overwhelming your senses. 

You try to speak to him, tell him that you want him inside you now but your voice fails you, all your words coming out as incoherent whines. Your hands slide down his chest, relishing the way his muscles tense under your hands. You get to his briefs and waste no time pulling his cock out, smirking at the gasping whine that slips out of his mouth. “Yes. Oh, fuck, please.” 

His breathing is climbing, his chest beginning to heave as his hips tilt up, helping you pull his boxers a bit lower before rubbing his cock over your wet lips, thrusting your hips forward to tease him but whining when he presses into your clit. His cock twitches against you, too turned on at the sight in front of him and he grinds himself into your mound as best he can, desperate for your friction. 

You giggle/moan before settling his tip against your needy hole. He can feel the way you’re trying to suck him in, how you’re winking over his cock, wishing he was inside you already. You take a deep breath and start sinking onto him, trying not to let your eyes roll back at the way he’s stretching you out. Your legs start shaking about halfway down and you’re letting whines spill from your lips after every breath of air. Marc has his hands digging into the sheets, almost puncturing the mattress with how hard he’s gripping it. His legs are tense and shaking under you, his gaze is hard as it watches your struggling face. Your hands are tensing on his shoulders as your thighs tremble, his hands untangle from the sheets once your entire body begins to shake and they reach your hips just in time for your legs to give out.

You collapse into his chest and his eyes roll back at the way you’re already fluttering around him, letting out helpless mewls into his neck, assaulting his ears with their softness. He lowers you onto his cock quickly, working himself in a bit quicker than he normally would out of pure need. He’s groaning into the top of your head, his eyes shut tight as he tries to ignore the tingling that’s telling him he’s already close. 

You sit up, trying to calm yourself and press your lips into his with a whine as your hips begin to grind into him slowly, teasing his cock against your spasming walls. You’re more sensitive in the mornings- that’s something he already knows, but this feels like something else, like you’re completely gone for him. It’s affecting him in a way he didn’t know was possible. His hands are behind your back, gripping the fabric of your tank so roughly that you can feel his fingernails leaving marks on your skin. 

Your hips are stuttering as they grind, your body wanting to fold in on itself at the pleasure that shoots through you. Your eyes are shut tight, trying to keep enough focus to hold your pace on him. He’s panting in your ear, whimpering every now and then, his balls are throbbing beneath you, begging him to cum already. He wants to make this last though, this softness and sensitivity you’re giving him, the comfort of being completely wrapped in you, the pretty sounds you’re feeding him with, he never wants it to end. 

Your name slides out of his mouth subconsciously, since it’s the only thing on his mind and you give him a passionate whine in response. Your pussy flutters over him and you fold onto him, collapsing into his lips with a moan before pulling away. “Love you s’much, baby.” Your eyes are hazy as they look into his, winding him tighter and his hips begin to jerk into you, almost forcing his orgasm from his cock. “M’never gonna leave. Never leave you.”  His eyes roll back at your sweet words and his hands shoot to your hips. 

Your moans double in volume and quantity as he grinds you against him harshly, abusing your clit against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. His cock is pulsing for you, desperately wanting to cum all over you, hopefully on your chest or thighs, if he’s lucky you’ll let him cum on your face or tummy. His pace goes wild at that. 

His feet plant onto the bed to fuck himself up into you. “Tell me again.” His pace is brutal, shutting off everything in the world isn’t him. You can barely process his words, giving him a confused moan instead of whatever answer he’s looking for. You can only focus on the way his cock is rubbing your sensitive walls and sending ripples of pleasure through you, how it’s bumping your cervix with every thrust. “Tell me again, sweetheart. Tell me you- you love m-” His word descends to a groan when you moan his name, strangled, and desperate as your hips grind into him again. “I love you, I love you so much. I’m-” You gasp and grip his hair again, sobbing a moan onto his lips before burying yourself in his neck. 

“M’gonna cum an- and I want-” You whine shakily and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him as your pussy shudders around his cock. “I want you to cum inside me- Oh, I love you so much, Marc.” He can’t even hold back. He can’t even last five minutes after you’ve granted him permission. His hands are shaking against you and he's whining like you've never heard. 

“I’ve never- Baby, I haven’t-” You moan against his neck, delirious and desperate for him. His eyes roll back and shut. His mind is racing with thoughts of cumming inside you now, how warm it’ll feel, how you’ll twitch around him, maybe your pussy will milk him, maybe you’ll twitch as he paints your walls white with his cum. Maybe he’ll cum enough that he gets to watch it drip out of you. You lick a stripe up his ear, sending a jolt of arousal straight to his cock, nearly pushing him over the edge. “I haven’t done this either. I want you to.”

Your emphasis on ‘you’ is what pushes him over. It has his muscles tightening with his cock and his hips twitch up into you twice more before he’s groaning out unfinished curses. You cum at his reaction, babbling that you love him over and over, prolonging his orgasm in the process. He holds your head in the crook of his neck as he thrusts into you erratically, seeing white in his vision from how good you’re making him feel. His head has gone fuzzy and all he can hear is static, he feels like he’s ascended to another realm as his cock floods your pussy. 

You’re shocked at the warmth, at how quickly it spreads through you and warms your core, raising goosebumps all over your skin and shoving you over the edge. You shake all over as your pussy milks him, squeezing every last drop from his pulsing cock, wanting to be so full of him that you’re dripping for days, so full that you can feel his heavy cum sitting in your womb. 

He groans your name one more time, coming out broken and pathetic as his cock spits out one last rope of cum into you, his cock making an obscene squelch noise as he thrusts into you one last time. 

You’re panting on his chest, basking in the comfortable silence, the intimacy of the whole ordeal, when he lifts you off of him. You whine in protest, you were hoping he’d leave it in and let you keep him warm all night. You’re pouting at him as he shushes your whines, your heavy lids closed over your eyes until you realize he’s not putting you down. Your eyes open slowly to see his gaze barreled into your pussy, not even flickering to your face for a moment. 

You jerk in his hold when you feel it; his thick cum dripping from your over-stimulated hole. It’s almost ticklish as it slides out of you so slowly, causing a shiver to run up your spine and his cum finally drops onto the sheet. There's a thin line of off-white still streaming out of you and his hands are shaking over your hips again. His eyes are blown and desperate when they meet yours. Already ready for another round. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector blurb #marc spector #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector moon knight #moon knight smut #kinktober #kinktober smut #kinktober 2023

[stormkobra-5]

Phases

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Fic Type: Drabble

Beta’d by the lovely @marc-spectorr 😌

Summary: Marc knew that being Khonshu’s Avatar came with side effects. He just was never quite aware of how, exactly, the phases of the moon affected him. Not until you.

A/N: So. The gif. Pretend he’s not getting impaled. Or injured at all. Because honestly that’s the position I picture him being in when he’s pinning the reader against him. 🤡 (Also, this is kind of a Marc version of Feral Flight…)[Yes, I ignored my ask box to finish this :/]

Rating/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI, primal play, breeding kink, unprotected PiV, exhibitionism (Steven and Jake watch and comment), feral!Marc Spector, marathon sex, slight dub/non-con, fingering, softdom!Marc, a/b/o vibes, mating kink (??? This is a version of Feral Flight, after all), Marc is confuzzled about what’s happening to him but gives in, lots of mentions of getting the reader pregnant, sex with intention of getting reader pregnant, the phases of the moon affect the Moon Boys, foul/vulgar language, praise kink, rough (?) sex, lots of mentions of Khonshu but like??? He’s not in it???, jealous Marc (briefly), biting, marking, fluff, somehow this went from the kinkiest shit I’ve ever written to extreme yearning fluff idk

Dating the boys had surely been an experience you’d never forget. Steven, Marc, Jake, your boyfriends whom you loved deeply; and they loved you tenfold each. It was a strange feeling, being in a relationship with all three alters— but strange in a good way. You took every part of them and accepted it, loving them for who they were wholly and completely.

Although… you didn’t expect there to be a part of them that even they weren’t aware of…

Marc knew that the phases of the moon affected the powers that Khonshu gave them. The fuller it was, the more powerful they were. On the New Moon, they all slept so deeply that not even Khonshu himself could wake them. It was apparently some kind of rejuvenating period, which made sense (and also prompted a three-and-half explanation from Steven).

But on the Full Moon?

Their powers were amplified tenfold.

When wearing the suit, their super-strength, flight, speed, healing abilities, they seemed invincible and godlike. It was a feeling that went straight to their heads. For nearly a week around the day of the full moon, they became arrogant. Cocky. Marc would be the first to admit that they became fucking assholes, even Steven. Not to mention, the extra metabolism (? So Steven said. Marc wasn’t too sure.) forced them to eat. And eat. And eat. They bulked up. Whereas throughout the rest of the month they were fit and lean, during the week of the full moon their bodies were sleek, contoured muscle. They would beat the shit out of their enemies (even Steven), or pick fights. They were quick to respond with aggression, and he even felt his neighbors weren’t safe.

Whenever he was in the flat around that time, he would snap and huff at the people he’d ride with in the elevator. They were too close, it was too stuffy, he wanted to chase everyone out of the fucking building and patrol it just to keep everyone out. He felt that way so violently that he usually went out to protect his innocent neighbors before he lost all sense of self. Jake liked to joke that it was just a “moon period,” and it would pass.

Then you came along, and it got worse.

And different.

He seemed to eat more. He was more aggressive toward his neighbors. Every sound in the hall made him want to bust down the door and attack whoever it was because they were too close to you. Everyone was too close to you. You needed a whole building to yourself and Marc would patrol it to keep you safe. If you wanted to go out, he’d just have to go with you, Khonshu be damned.

But with you other things happened that made him confused.

He'd catch himself piling your blankets around him while you were at work just to envelop him in your scent— the smell of your shampoo, though he swore it was more than that. He swore he had heightened senses, because he could almost smell you on an animalistic level. When you got home, he was all over you, worshiping you like you were a princess. He’d have a hot bath already running for you, he’d make you food, ensure you drank water, help you with your shoes and jacket; he catered to you on a standard day, especially Steven, but this was different. He’d be practically unable to let go of you, literally keeping his arms around you and whining high-pitched in the back of his throat like a fucking dog if you had to move. He’d almost aggressively cuddle you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting your smell overwhelm him, comfort him.

Of course he’d explained it to you before the time had hit, but in his brief moments of clarity, he’d whisper helplessly with tears in his eyes, “I-I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

You’d only kiss his forehead. Ever patient. Ever loving. He wondered what he did to deserve you. “It’s okay, Marc. We’ll get through it together, I promise.” Of course, Khonshu never explained anything to him.

You were so patient.

Even when he was fucking you senseless.

Usually you both had a reasonable lust for each other, but during the full moon, his sex drive was through the roof. He had to take you. He had to feel you. He was gentle, but also relentless— he wasn’t sure where he suddenly got the stamina for twelve fucking rounds after dinner, but his intention was never to hurt you. He just wanted you. If you pushed him away, too tired for more, Marc would immediately launch into aftercare. A warm bath, blankets straight from the dryer, and him laying protectively around you.

Although there was one night he caught himself lapping slowly at your throat. The fuck???

Jake and Steven were just as bad as he was. In fact, Steven was probably worse. His pent-up years of anger made him more dangerous to strangers and more rough with you, so he kept away from the front.

Marc was happy when on the next full moon, Khonshu had work for him; but it ended up not taking as long as he’d planned. By only eight o’clock he was done with the mission, and he ran thirty times full speed around the block your workplace was in just to let off some steam. He made sure, though, that when you got off, he was there to watch over you from a nearby rooftop.

The wind changed, and he swore— he fucking swore he caught a whiff of your goddamn scent.

No, he really was. Was that a new power? Heightened senses? His mask melted away so that he could better smell it— he shouldn’t know you’re ovulating. He shouldn’t. Were you this morning? No, he’d smelled it coming. He’d been all over you before you’d left for work. But, oh, you smell so fucking good.

Ovulating. The word rings around in his head for a minute. His alters are somewhere in the headspace, keeping away from the front at all costs. He tries to swallow hard, but his throat and mouth are so damn dry that he just can’t. All he can think about is you. You you you. And the fact that you’re ovulating.

He hears a high noise nearby and isn’t sure what it is until he realizes that it’s him. He’s whining as he watches you bid goodbye to a coworker who was chatting with you, wanting nothing more than to pin you down right. There.

Marc shifted his weight, his suit suddenly far too tight in the crotch. The wind shifts, and so does his mood.

There’s another scent on you.

The scent of a male.

He can almost see the handprint on your shoulder from where one of your coworkers passed you earlier in the day. The scent is faint, stale, but it’s there, and it makes him furious. He’s possessive over you, and that scares him. He wants to lick and rub his face all over that spot while fucking you hard just to cover you wholly in his scent again.

He’s there, too; he can smell himself on you. The smell of citrus and metal and wood, all fucking over you. You’re his. Except for that. Spot. How dare someone touch his mate while she’s ovulating? If he wasn’t so distracted by you, he’d have tracked the scent and broken both the coworker’s hands for it.

Marc’s head grew foggy. His vision narrowed until you were all he could see. All of his senses were trained on you. He thought he might have whined again, realizing he was palming himself a little too roughly when Jake said in the back of his head, “...Ow,” followed by Steven: “Oi, you tryin’ to castrate us, mate?”

Mate. Marc wasn’t sure where his mind went or what kind of trance he was in. I’ve gotta get down there— get to her— have to— have to mate with her— Marc stood, following you from the rooftop and starting to parkour down. I have to mate with her. Right now, while she’s ready for me.

“Oh shit,” Jake muttered, “Easy, hombré; you hurt her, I won’t hesitate in castrating us. You need fucking fixed, man.”

“Not gonna hurt her,” Marc mumbled as he prepared himself for the drop to the sidewalk below, “Not gonna hurt her…”

Steven, meanwhile, had come too close to the front. He hovered, feral, just behind the edge of Marc’s conscious thought, urging him on silently. Waiting for Marc to pounce.

Marc landed in a crouch before you, making you yelp in momentary terror. The smell was like burning plastic, and he didn’t like it. “No, baby, it’s me—“

Your scent returned to normal as you let out a whooshing breath of relief, a broad but wary smile on your face. “Marc,” The way you said his name caused a shiver to run up his spine. You started to ask him something— whether he was still on a mission, how it went, or something like that, he wasn’t sure— all he knew was that his body was moving before his mind, rushing forward to crush your lips together in a bruising kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking advantage of your slack jaw, an arm slipping around you from behind to pull you flush against him. The sensation of your taste and your body against him felt overwhelming. His suit was suddenly scratchy, his skin too hot and feverish, his breath and heartbeat too quick. If he could have seen how black his eyes were, he might have had the sense to be concerned.

His hungry kisses trailed down your neck, where he pulled your shirt down your shoulder to expose the skin. Your gasp at the contact of the chilly night air went straight to his core, and he growled. The scent of the other male was making him pissed, and he found himself licking at the spot before biting down.

Hard.

So hard he drew blood, and you cried out, voice echoing in the empty street.

He didn’t pull back, keeping you against him and rolling his hips into you to try and ease the pressure in his groin with another whine. “Marc—“

“Run,” He hissed in your ear.

The demand took you by surprise. “Huh?”

“I want you to run from me,” He clarified softly, “Run. As fast and as far as you can. Until I catch you. Please?”

“W-what happens if you catch me?” You managed, a little shaken and also understanding what was happening to your boys.

“I get to fuck you,” Marc nipped at your jawline, trying to entice you. If there was one thing he wasn’t going to do, it was force himself on you. He’d catch a plane to Singapore just to keep himself away from you if you said no. He was still steadily rocking into you, lapping at your wounded shoulder as he tried to cover the scent of the other male, take it away, get rid of it…

“M-Marc,” You breathed; he could see in your eyes that you were greatly concerned. But he could also smell your arousal, and it was just making his whole situation worse. “We’re out in public. Can you wait till we get back to the flat?”

He was able to have a moment of clarity (? If you could call it that). Mainly because Steven was acting like a caged tiger, slamming up against the front violently like an animal behind bars. Marc wouldn’t let him out; couldn’t let him out. Steven could get rough and hurt you without even meaning to, and then he’d feel guilty and horrible when he came back to himself. Marc knew that he was always gentle, that he could stop himself, but... “Don’t you fucking dare take her here, Marc. Getting her scent everywhere in a place so far from home. Getting her everywhere— you get her home, Marc. Get her home, or I will. She needs to be safe.”

Steven was his voice of reason, as always. He wholly agreed with his alter, biting softly at your jawline and nuzzling into your neck. There. He found it. The spot right behind your ears that had your knees buckling, a flood of arousal heading straight to your core. You were probably dripping for him already.

“Bloody hell,” Steven groaned when he saw how you nearly went limp, if not for Marc catching you and holding you against him.

Marc scooped you up in his arms and held you close, taking you back to the flat; it wasn’t a particularly long walk, but it felt like days. Marc’s suit was tight, way too tight and he could barely breathe. By the time the building was in sight, he was sweating buckets and could barely walk, almost in pain. He set you down carefully, much to your confusion. “Can you run? Please? I want to chase you.”

“Why?” You weren’t mocking, or teasing; you were genuinely asking why he wanted to chase you. He himself wasn’t sure— all he knew was that he wanted to have the thrill of chasing you before mating with you. Before…

Before he breeds you.

The thought of potentially impregnating you makes him moan into your neck, and he turns you around, giving you a gentle nudge to the building. “Go. Go, please.”

Reluctantly, you did. Marc started counting to thirty, watching your shrinking form pick up speed, as his alters spoke up.

1…2…3…

Steven was too close, heated and pissed. “Get that bloody male’s scent off her, Marc. I don’t care if you have to fucking cum on her shoulders. Get. It. Off.”

“Marc, listen to me, hombré,” Jake said, farther back, still horny but sensible. He wasn’t letting himself get near to the front, but he kept trying to pull Steven back, which resulted violently; not entirely in control of himself, Steven attacked, fending Jake off while keeping his position in co-fronting. “Remember yourself. Don’t let yourself hurt her.”

20, 21, 22…

Keeping Steven contained was the equivalent of holding a cat carrier with a violent, strong cat freaking out on the inside. Marc was losing his hold, grip failing—

Steven took advantage of the slip and bolted.

You’d only just gotten through the doors of the building when Steven took off, too far gone to hear Jake reprimanding him or Marc begging him for the body back. He burst through the doors just as you entered the elevator, watching with wide eyes as he raced for you. The doors closed before he reached them, and he slammed into them hard enough to dent them. The suit gave him the strength to pry the doors open with the sound of screeching metal, but the car was already gone, leaving only a gaping hole in the floor. Steven whirled for the stairs with a growl of frustration.

He’d only made it halfway up when he faltered, dizzy from how he was panting and from the overwhelming scents of his neighbors. A part of him was furious. They shouldn't be this close to you. The other was horrified. If he’d have caught you in the elevator, what would he have done?

Steven put his face in his hands. “T-Take over. One of you take over. Please.”

Marc easily slipped into the front, slumping over. Steven disappeared into the farthest reaches of the headspace that he could go, but Marc and Jake both knew it was only a matter of time before he came back out.

Muscles shaking, Marc sprinted the last few floors to the flat, tearing open the door to find your scent fresh and present; his eyes locked on you as you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do. He gently closed and locked the door behind him, striding forward to take you in his arms and kiss you deeply. He wasn’t even aware that his hand rested on your stomach until he broke away to kiss your neck. “No condoms. Please.”

“Mar—“

“Please,” Marc was speaking before his mind could comprehend that he was fucking begging. “I-I dont just wanna have s-sex, I want to mate with you, breed you, pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ He must’ve been rambling, because you took his face in your hands to look him in the eyes. Marc forced himself to form a coherent sentence, though his voice was barely a whisper. “I-I… I want to get you pregnant…” He shook his head, realizing what he was saying in a moment of true clarity. “Baby, I don’t know what’s happening, please forgive me—“

You kissed him softly. Just a peck. “Marc. It’s okay.”

Marc moaned with relief, turning you around and helping you to the bed. He laid you flat on your back and caged you in underneath of him, pressing his face into your neck to lick and suck and bite at your throat. The scents of the flat— you, him, home— relaxed his tense muscles. It made him feel as if you were in a safe zone. He peeled your jacket off and tore off your button-down shirt, the little buttons flying everywhere. Marc didn’t remove the suit, still only maskless— if it enhanced his powers, he wondered if it would enhance other things. If it might take first try.

Your little whimpers and gasps caused his hips to buck into you suddenly. He slipped his waist between your legs, which locked around his torso tightly to pull him closer. The sound of tearing fabric filled the bedroom as Marc tore off your pants and underwear with no effort whatsoever, making you gasp loudly and moan his name. Marc sensed how wet you were and snarled against your neck, grinding into you as he entwined his fingers with yours.

Your naked body was responding to him exactly how he wanted you to. You writhed and rocked against him, squeezing his hands for something to ground you. You wrestled a hand out from under his, and at first he was going to pin it back down, but then your fingers tangled in his curls and tugged. He groaned into your neck, sinking his teeth gently into your flesh and sweeping his other arm underneath of you to hold you against him; yours magnetized around him, hand fisting his cape at his back.

His hand slipped between you, sinking into your heat; you gasped, though the fact that you rocked into his hand made him continue. You were soaked.

He had Jake in one ear, barely able to control himself, whispering about how he needs to fuck you hard and thorough. He had Steven in the other, growling and cussing and trying to force himself to the front to take you himself.

Marc pulled back a little, just enough to maneuver his suit to pull his length out, throbbing and so hard he was nearly in pain. “Baby,” You whispered sympathetically, concerned, and Marc nudged his face into yours.

“Is this okay?”

You frowned, pulling him closer. He’d walk away if you said no, willing to fight through the pain of whatever was wrong with him. “It’s okay.”

Marc slowly, carefully, like you were made of glass, pushed into you. His hips twitched too quickly as he sunk in, as if he was fighting himself not to take you rough. Once he bottomed out, he unleashed a primal groan, deep in the back of his throat. “Oh my god; that’s it, babygirl, that’s it…”

His thrusts were slow as he rubbed your clit, trying to get you to the edge that he was already at. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more and so did you…

He pulled out, ignoring your whine save for a reassuring nudge against your face. “S’okay.” He turned you over, assisting you to your hands and knees; he doubled over you as he buried himself inside you again, pressing against something devastating deep within you— you cried out, loudly enough to where you knew your neighbors would be complaining in the morning. One of his arms swept under your hips to hold you firmly against him, the other, holding himself up alongside your own. You gripped his wrist for leverage as he propped a leg up beside you, knowing that he was going to absolutely ruin you.

The position woke up something feral in him. He was sure that Steven and Jake were co-fronting now, adding to his actions, but he didn’t care. You felt and looked and smelled so fucking good around and under and all over him that he didn’t care at all. His hips pistoned into you at a bruising pace, the head of his cock punching your cervix with each blow. His eyes rolled back in his head as he finally felt the build of his orgasm; but he couldn’t cum yet. Not without you. “Fuck, sweetheart—“ His position shifted slightly. He straightened his back, both hands coming to grip your hips briefly before one slipped underneath of you, pressing against your stomach until you moaned; he started grinding, feeling himself nudge against your insides as you started to sob with pleasure. Marc let out a guttural groan, letting his forehead fall onto your back. You all but screamed when he started roughly massaging your clit with his other hand.

“That’s it, babygirl, that’s it, come on… Come on…”

You came with a piercing wail that almost hurt his ears. Tumbling after you after a few stuttering thrusts was Marc, spilling into you with a yelp of alarm. “Oh— shit!” He stilled, face contorting with the pleasure of his high as he held you against him, panting fast and heavy as he emptied into you for far longer than he was used to. “F-fuck…”

“Huh,” Jake hummed, “Who knew wearing Khonshu’s suit would give us a bigger load.” Steven, on the other hand, had felt the orgasm too, and was calmed down, in a sort of daze.

“M-Marc,” you whimpered, but he was loathe to pull out of you. He reached up and brushed your sweaty hair back away from your face, kissing at your shoulders.

Gently, he rolled over so that you were both on your sides before pulling out; he scooped whatever dripped out right back in, not that it mattered. It didn’t take. She’s not pregnant. Marc frowned, whimpering as he let the suit melt off. You couldn’t take another load like that, not right now; he wasn’t even sure if you could take another orgasm. He was licking at your throat and that spot that drove you crazy, slowly, eyes closed as he breathed you in and held you against him. The contrast of your naked form against his clothed body made him feel off, so he pulled back and stripped of everything, settling in bed beside you.

He was already hard again, and the blissful smile you sent his way only made it worse. It disappeared off your face when you saw his pained expression. “What is it?”

“I… I need more…” He was reluctant to admit it. He didn’t want to take advantage of you.

“Marc…” You cupped his face in your hand. “I can take it. I promise. I’ll use my safeword if I can’t, okay?”

“Okay?” Marc echoed, situating himself above you and between your legs. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you—“

“I’m fine,” Was all the assurance he needed.

It was slower this time, more sensual. He held you against him as he drove carefully into you with firm rolls of his hips, getting as deep as possible. Your shared orgasm was enough to knock him out cold, and Steven fronted. Gently, he caressed your face as he hovered over you, already hard again inside you and knowing it hadn’t taken yet. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, dove,” Steven breathed, nuzzling up under your chin. “Don’t know what came over me… do you have one more in you, lovey? One more?”

You knew full well it wouldn’t be just one more, or two. Steven managed to cum in you once, but he drew two orgasms from you first. Then Jake was fronting, gently moving you so that your legs were over his shoulders before he slowly pounded into you, drawing another orgasm from you when he came.

Fighting the urges, he launched into aftercare, wiping you clean and engulfing you in his hold as you slept.

When he woke, it was Marc. Jake and Steven were quiet. It was only midnight. The full moon blazed through the window, illuminating the whole room with silver light— and you were gone. Marc sat up in a panic, your scent overwhelming him and fresh; but where were you? He called your name warily, only for you to come out of the bathroom with one of his shirts on. Your legs were wobbly. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You needed your rest,” you whispered softly as he helped you back into bed. Immediately, his arms were around you and he was pulling you underneath of him, nuzzling into your throat with a soft hum. There was no trace of the other male’s scent, now. There’s only Marc, Jake, Steven, you… no one else.

You’re still not pregnant.

You’re still ovulating, though. The moon is at its fullest and brightest. He might not even need the suit. His hand traced your stomach, drawing patterns as you ran your hands through his curls. He softly said your name before propping himself up on his elbows to look you in the eye. He didn’t even have to ask; your legs parted for him immediately when you felt him hardening against your thigh, wrapping around his hips.

“Be gentle,” Steven warned, “We’ve had her all night.”

“She can do it,” Jake whispered, “Hermosa, tan hermosa…”

Marc hesitated, biting his lip. His fingers danced over your stomach nervously. “What is it?” You whispered quietly; he seemed a bit back to himself, more lucid, but you feared one wrong word would send him back into the frenzy he and his alters had been in earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Marc choked out, fighting back tears. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart; you didn’t sign up for any of this shit—“

“Marc,” You ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, brushing away tears he didn’t realize he’d shed. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, I’m fucking you so hard with intentions you agreed to without thinking—“

You cut him off with a light scold. “Marc Spector… don’t you remember this morning?” Marc was, reasonably, confused. In fact, he didn’t remember much of the day. It was a blur of aggression and lust for all three of them. He shook his head. “We were talking about kids,” You caressed his cheek, brow furrowing with concern. “How many we wanted, how we’ll need a bigger house… this is just… a different way of trying.”

“...Trying,” Marc repeated after a second, shocked. He still didn’t remember it. But he trusted you. Now, other fears surfaced, ones he hadn’t thought of in his moon-induced trance. “What if I’m not a good dad? What if I’m a horrible father? What if—“

You cut him off with a passionate kiss. Marc melted against you. Don’t even say it, you thought, you’ll never be like your mother. “You’ll be an amazing father,” You whispered instead. “And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.” After a moment, you added, “Do… Do you still want to try?”

Marc shifted slightly, licking his lips, before kissing you warmly. “...Yeah. I do.” You wrapped your arms around his neck with a smile, pulling him close. “Steven and Jake are here,” Marc breathed against your ear as he pushed into you; you hissed, walls over-sensitive from being paid so much attention over the course of the night. “Can they watch, pretty girl? Can they watch us make a baby?”

Your frantic nodding made Steven smile; Jake leaned back as if getting comfortable for a movie. Marc entwined your fingers with his as he slowly rutted into you, dragging his cock along your walls painfully slowly before sliding back in and pressing against something that made you see stars. You breathed his name like a mantra, while Marc whispered honeyed words into your ear. “Our kid’s gonna be so beautiful, having a part of you. Can’t think of anyone in the world I’d rather have a baby with, sweetheart; you, only you.” He nuzzled the side of your face, nipping at your jawline as he drew slow circles over your clit.

When you came, you dragged Marc with you over the edge, the pair of you writhing and moaning against each other in the throes of your ecstasy. As you came to, you saw Marc’s beaming smile, eyes glistening with unshed tears. His hand never left your stomach. “I think we did it… I… I think you’re pregnant.”

Marc let out a breathless laugh against your lips, and you laughed with him, hugging him tightly and kissing all over your face. Marc— finally satiated, back to himself, his alters confused and excited— was smiling like you’d never seen before. He was happy. “We just started a family,” You sniffled, shocked.

“Wouldn’t have done it with anyone else,” Marc said sincerely, tired and spent. He kissed you, warmth radiating off of him as he embraced you. “...I love you. I know I don’t say it a lot, and I should… I’m gonna try harder. To give you everything. To give you both everything…” His eyes locked with yours, both gazes holding unshed tears. He kissed you again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Marc,” You said through your tears, and you fell asleep happy and entangled together under the light of the moon.

Slowly, pointedly, you turned to glare over your shoulder at Marc, who sat at the dinner table, feigning innocence. “Marc…” You warned.

“What? I’m not doing anything.”

“Not yet.”

“You say that as if I’m known to do something.”

“Marc?” You said, half-turning around, “I learned long ago that I can never trust you with cookie dough.”

The sound of breaking glass in the next room made you both lunge frantically, tripping over yourselves, chairs, and each other as you rushed for the source of the sound. By the time you got there, there was only a little tiny version of Moon Knight, as if he’d been shrunk, dusting himself off as he stood to face you both, clearly having jumped off the couch in an attempt to “fly.”

You both heaved a sigh of exasperation toward your three-year-old son. “Nico,” Marc scolded lightly, coming forward to kneel in front of him. “What’ve we told you, buddy? You’re gonna get yourself hurt. I’ll fly with you, okay? But when you’re older, I promise. Are you hurt?”

Nico shook his little masked head. “No, Daddy. I bumped the vase.” He pointed accusingly toward the shattered glass and remains of flowers. Marc checked him over anyway before holding him gently by the shoulders. “Don’t do that again, okay?” Nico nodded, lowering his head, and Marc added, “Hey. I’m not angry. I just don’t want you getting hurt. I could never be angry at you. Ever. Okay?” He pulled Nico in for a tender embrace.

You watched it all from the doorway with a smile. Nico Randall Spector (Lockley-Grant, but you couldn’t officially put that on any of his birth certificates or documents without causing a whole conundrum of confusion) was every bit like his father. The same hair, same eyes, and same hidden chaotic energy. “Just like his father…”

Marc shot you a teasing glare. “Hey. I’ve never jumped off the couch.”

“So I’m just supposed to pretend we’ve never had Nerf battles, then?” You countered swiftly.

Marc scoffed as he stood with Nico in his arms. “I’ve never jumped off the couch. Have I ever jumped off the couch?” He turned to confirm with your son, who reluctantly nodded; Marc immediately began to tickle him. “Little traitor! I’ve never jumped off the couch! How dare you!”

Only when Nico was nearly out of breath did Marc stop, smiling as he pressed his forehead to his much smaller one. Nico hugged him tight enough to probably choke him, but Marc didn’t care; he gave him a kiss on the cheek before setting him down. “Okay— go change. It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Okay!” Nico started to hurry away; you called after him, “Need any help, Moon Knight?”

“No thank you,” Came his little voice; Jake’s cat, Taco, appeared out from underneath the couch and padded silently after him.

You and Marc watched your son disappear into his room fondly; you’d never seen Marc smile like that until he was born. He unfolded his arms and came over to loosely put his arms around your waist. “Thought you were supposed to be watching him while I finished up.”

“Your fault for distracting me with the cookie dough,” Marc retorted childishly, then added with a wink, “And those damn jeans.”

“Hush,” You whispered.

Marc smiled again, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand fell to splay over your stomach. “Maybe his sister will keep him in line when she gets here.”

You tapped his nose with the spoon you’d been holding. He balked and blinked rapidly. “Hey. That doesn’t even have any dough on it!” Reduced to giggling messes, Marc held you tightly against him and closed his eyes, savoring the closeness.

Dinner was one of those rare moments of domestic bliss; Nico made a ridiculous mess, but all three alters were present, switching who was fronting in order to spend time with their expecting wife and son— and to help clean up. The night ended with Marc being the only one who remained awake after a movie, as you were tucked in on one side of him, his arm around you and his hand over your stomach, and Nico under the other arm. Marc smiled to himself, giving you each a kiss.

“Love you guys. With all my heart.”

Thanks for reading!

Tags: @dameronsknight @sylkisdagger @atzlena @gucciboots @pastel-0-princess @rosaren2498 @love-on-the-murder-scene @wintergirlsoilder2 @blackcat-midnight-thatsme @multifandomsw @bookloverfilmoholic @khaotic-kris @hb8301 @soggumm @simonsbluee @bobfloydsgf @bluestuesday @magnet-girl @rosellacwrites @dweeb-central @ilymorepls @drwhofangirl1963 @loonymagizoologist @auszimbo @tealrivers @later-gators12 @izbelross @xcatnapsx @child-of-the-moon-gods @djarinsgirl27 @sokoviansorceress @eerievixen @cold-buffet-ham @upbeat-cascade @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @candydancey @rqmanoff @jakelcckley @sharin4readers @lovely-cryptid @marc-spectorr @rmoonstoner @oscarisaacsspit @moonknightyws @hopefulfangirl24 @local-mr-frog @dawnsutopia @hot-mess-express1 @infinitelyforgotten

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader smut #steven grant x reader smut #jake lockley x reader smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada

[havensins]

hello! can you do a marc spector x reader w jealousy/possessiveness? i just have a huge thing for possessiveness and i can see reader putting him in his place and marking him up BADLY

yesyesyesyes (tw.. thigh fucking.)

marc is so quiet in his submission but he’ll also go to the extremes just to get you riled up enough to rough him up a bit.

he loves to make you jealous because your slight possessive streak was something he found incredibly arousing.

it was something about the way your aggression shown through your movements, collecting his wrists in your hands and pushing him above his head as you kissed down his collarbone.

he didn’t object at all once you pulled down his remaining articles of clothing. the way you push his legs up has him whining out and you bite back a grin.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it? you just wanted to make me mad so that i’d push you around huh?” you asked, already knowing the answer. “that’s unfortunate, isn’t it love? i don’t plan on giving you what you want until you beg me.” you murmur, stroking yourself a little before pressing your cock between his thighs.

“wha- nonono please,” he whines, cheeks heating up as you continue grinding into the tight space his thighs provided. “c’mon love, i’ve heard you beg me better than that. let’s see if you really deserve my cock in the way you want it.”

#answered #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x reader #sub moonknight #sub!moonknight #moonknight x reader #sub!marc #sub!marc spector #sub marc #sub marc spector #moonknight x male reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector x male reader

[softlyspector]

ill say it once and ill say it again, when marc spector gets comfortable enough around you, the praise kink is gonna come out and it's gonna come out hard, and lemme tell you, there's nothing that man loves more than being told he's doing a good job and hearing how good he's making you feel - i'm literally not taking any arguments about this

and you shouldn't hear any arguments because it's just so correct.

marc spector x reader smut under the cut.

~1.6k words

The first time it happens, you think it's a coincidence. You tell yourself it's coincidence - the way Marc keens in your ear, comes so hard his eyes roll back, fingers latched into your skin like you're the last person on Earth, like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

It's a coincidence surely, that you'd threaded your fingers through his hair moments before, tugged gently, and whispered, "Good. You are so fucking good. You are so good to me."

He doesn't mention it, afterwards, and you don't either. How he'd practically wailed, how his grip left little divots in your skin, crescent moons left behind like a brand.

You've always praised Marc, let him know how good he made you feel. You've always known that he needs that. But you think that's the first time he's let you see how much it affects him.

Sometimes, you feel as though you'll never really know him. Not all of him, anyways. But you don't mind, there'll always be something to uncover and you love a puzzle - even one with sharp edges.

Years, you have been with him. It's been years, and still vulnerability came at random times, usually with a stony expression and a look in his eyes that said he expected to be found wanting, or ridiculous.

But it's not, he's not.

The sound of his pleasure is so sweet, so good, you can't imagine how he'd kept it inside for so long. The way he absolutely ached for you has always been obvious, but this is new.

And you want to hear it again, you want to see him desperate again, desperate to please you and hear your praise.

So you try it again, and soon, a few days later, when he's buried between your thighs, fingers digging delicately into the plush flesh of your thighs, fingertips skimming up to your hips, the dip of your waist. His shoulders are propped beneath your thighs, legs draped delicately over his shoulders and biceps.

You wait until he's focused, lost in you and far away, to say - "You're doing so well. So fucking good." And then, "You look so pretty like this."

His eyes flash up to yours before they flutter shut, mouth tightening around a groan, fingers digging tighter into your skin.

He likes it. Marc likes it when you tell him how good he is.

Your breath catches. To know is one thing, to hear the desperation is another things entirely.

You want to draw it out of him slowly, torture him with the sound of how fucking adept he is at making you lose your absolute last brain cell.

His breath is warm against your cunt, chest heaving in tight little pants.

His shoulders may as well be cut from marble, just like the rest of him. The smooth glide of muscle as he shifts like a beacon in the night for restless tired eyes. You could spend days tracing the shape of his collarbone alone, licking away the glow of sweat on his skin.

"God, do you know, Marc? You always make me feel so good," you slide your hand through his hair, tug on the ends of his curls. "Do you like hearing me say that?" You ask, teasing him only a little. "I like telling you. You're fucking gorgeous and too good to me."

He’s nodding into you, hips rutting against the mattress, weak groans slipping past his lips. "I dunno, I don't fuckin'-,"

“You like knowing how good you make me feel, huh?”

He just keeps nodding.

Your mouth fills with saliva. You want to watch him make himself come, drunk on your words and the pressure of his cock rubbing against the sheets.

"You like hearing it." This time it isn't a question, and he stills suddenly. "I like knowing you like it." Marc doesn't look at you this time, focusing his attention instead back on your pussy, on the slick, swollen folds, the mess that is his doing. You've lost count of how many times he's made you come, and your brain is slow to catch up to the self-deprecating twitch of his lips.

He looks into you like the answers of the universe could be found there as long as he avoided your gaze. His eyes are hard again, focused, like he thinks you might be making fun of him and doesn't want to call you on it.

His mouth is wet, chin damp with your arousal, and you want to tell him you like that too, how thoroughly he ate your pussy, all in hopes of hearing how much you liked it, of hearing how good he was at it and how good he is for you.

How good he is for you in every way, especially when he's broken you down into pieces, into almost nothing, having drowned you in pleasure and stripped you bare until there's nothing left. He's reassuring himself that he's good for you, that he belongs there with you.

Still, he must know.

That he makes you see God.

Even the tip of his nose is wet, for fuck's sake.

Marc releases the grip of his hand on your hip, dragging it under your thigh to push your knee down, spreading you wider as he laps at you gently. He doesn't hold back the rumbling moan though, when you curse at the sensation of his mouth against you, barely touching, like the breath of a barely there brush of air.

"Marc," you moan, tossing your head back when he does it again, just breathes on you, skims his tongue lightly up your folds, so delicately you really aren't sure it's happening.

But when you glance down, hard umber eyes are watching you closely, brows lowered over a tense gaze. His eyes flick away again, the warmth of his large palm dragging down your thigh where he'd pinned it against the bed.

He circles your entrance delicately instead with one finger before he notches his thumb there, slowly pressing into you. You dig your fingers into his other arm, sweeping your fingers down his forearm, before hooking your hand against the crook of his elbow.

You whine, waiting for his mouth, but he just slowly pulls his thumb away from you, sealing his mouth around it instead, sucking away the musk you left on his hand. "I love seeing you like this," you try again. "You look so pretty." Your voice shutters, and it's an effort not to slam your eyes closed when he crocks two fingers inside you, stretching you open carefully, with a focus that makes your head spin. You catch him nodding though.

To be the center of his world, is to feel like you're burning, like you're drowning or flying and you can't decide if you need to surface for air, or if you might plummet to the ground if you try.

"So pretty. Make me feel like I'm -,"

He moans on the word pretty, and doesn't seem as embarrassed as he did a few minutes before. When your hips rock up off the bed, because the tips of his fingers are brushing something inside you that your own can't reach, and his mouth has sealed around your clit, you dare to whisper, "Good boy."

Marc's whole body seizes, shoulders stiff where they're pressed against the backs of your thighs. "Fu-uck," he groans out, nose nudging against your clit and you moan again, twitching against him, hand gripping the edges of one curl to tug hard until he looks up at you. "Baby," he licks his bottom lip, brown eyes drowned in the black of his pupils. "Please. You're fucking killing me."

He punctuates the sentiment with a forceful plunge of his fingers, the tease of his touch against your cervix deep inside you. You gasp and yank on his shoulder until he pulls his hand away from you and follows your mouth with his. Marc doesn't protest, lets you lick into him with a hum, lets you pull him close and slot him near you.

When you reach between you to palm his cock, you find him impossibly hard and leaking. He shutters when you touch him, when you whisper praise into his ear. "You're so good to me. You always make me feel so good. No one else has ever made me feel like this. No one else can do this to me."

He's preening under your touch, under your words, the caress of your hands against his skin like fire on coal.

He's listening to you now, quiet and breathy and desperate. You don't stop talking until he licks into your mouth, jaw jutting forward as his tongue slides against yours, over the tips of your teeth. "Y'gotta stop."

"Why?" You gasp, his hips flush against you when you guide him inside you.

You clench around him and he groans. "Because 'm gonna fuckin' come if you don't."

"S'okay," you keep your gaze level with his when he presses his nose against yours, breathing him in, the sheen of his skin in the low light, the smell of him like something you'd willingly bury yourself alive in - like something primal. Sweat and the raw scent of his skin and sex. He smells like you too, you think distantly, pussy clenching tighter around him at the thought. "I want it. You deserve it, you've been so good to me. Made me come so many times."

"Fuck, baby."

But he's moving now, hips jerking against yours. "You always make me feel like -,"

You don't get to finish that thought again, Marc fighting to devour you as he fucks you.

You'd let him, you'd let him consume you, you'd let him steal your soul. You break for him again, as you jabber more words of praise, desperate to see that look again, desperate to watch his eyes roll back, desperate to know only you can do this to him, only you can tell him how good he is.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut

[blue-sadie]

Three For The Price Of One

Moon System x Reader

Summary: loving Steven for his love and kind nature but falling for Marc for the complete opposite.

Warning: couch sex

Yn/3rd person pov

It took a while to get used to the switching of accents the changes of behavior it freaked you out at the start but marc seemed to like you and made it easier Steven to see you.

Steven said your presence calms marc down, "hi baby" I smiled as he walked into our apartment looking more tired then ever "hey" my smile wavered as I heard marcs voice I quickly rose to my feet.

"What happened" my voice was filled with concern as I approached him my eyes widening as I noticed the blood stains on his clothes.

He stumbled into my arms leaning his whole body weight on me "I've got you" I whispered and led him over to the couch "I'm gonna quickly going to get some stuff ok" I gently guided him down.

I turned to leave but he grabbed my wrist I looked back at him my heart melting as I noticed the desperation in his eyes "I need to fix you up marc I'll only be a second" I reassured him quietly.

He grudgingly let me go but I felt his eyes following my every move intill I disappeared around the corner I entered the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit I had under the sink.

I re-entered the lounge and froze as I saw him shirtless I have seen Steven shirtless shit even naked but with marc its different he has a dominating aura around and it makes my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head to get those thoughts out my head as I placed the kit onto the table and took a seat next to him I glanced at him to already see him looking at me, my cheeks turned red under his gaze.

I reached out to grab some stuff from the kit but he caught my wrist and slowly brought it to him and placed it on his chest my breathing quickened as I stared at my hand.

"I'm fine" he murmured and lifted up a hand to my face urging me to look at him "we're both fine" my eyes fluttered as I let out a sigh of relief I stared into his eyes deeply.

He caressed my face lovingly as his other hand grabbed mine that was placed on my chest and brought it to his lap "w-what happened" I asked my throat feeling dry as I asked that question.

He shook his head "I can't tell you" he murmured his eyes never leaving mine his hand slowly dropped from my face to graze over my exposed skin.

"Marc i-" he gently shushed me and pulled me against him so I was only a few inches away from him, "just be quiet p-please" he muttered before forcing his lips onto mine.

My hands immediately went to his neck holding him against me "marc" I gasped gripping his hair tightly "f-fuck me please" I begged against his lips.

He paused for a brief second his aura changing instantly "say that again" he growled his hand moving to grip my neck my eyes widened "say it".

"Please marc... please fuck me" I murmured and squealed out as he flipped us over so I was pushed into the cushions with him looming over me and using his body to cage me down.

He didn't speak but his eyes said everything he growled looking down and my clothes and ripped them off with ease my body shivered at the sudden coldness "my good little girl" he whispered his voice laced with lust.

His eyes wonder slowly from my face down to my chest to my core and thighs, he bit his lip harshly releasing a deep sigh through his teeth.

"I can't believe he kept you in himself for so long" he murmured as slowly traced his fingers tips over my skin leaving a trail of goosebumps "please marc stop and just fuck me" I was getting desperate.

Pressing my thighs together wasn't getting the friction I needed he let out a deep growl and pulled my thighs away from eachother causing a soft whine to leave my lips.

Marc sat back and undid his belt with ease and threw it to the side before working his pants and boxers off I stared at his toned abs making him laugh he roughly grabbed my hands and placed them onto his chest.

"Its better with the hands on experience" he teased before leaning down to connect his lips with mine I slightly dug my nails into his chest as I moved my hands up and down tracing every groove of his chest.

"Fuck yn" he groaned against my lips as he planted his hips onto mine, I gasped at the feeling of his hard cock against me I moved myself against grabbing his biceps out of pleasure.

"Just stick it in" I whined and squealed out as he pushed in fully "what my good girl wants my good girl gets" he growled and started pushing in and out his slow pace was agonizing.

"Faster please break me" I yelled out desperately he looked at me for a brief second his gaze instantly darkening "as you wish" he muttered and pulled out fully "be ready because this is what you asked for".

I cried out as thrusted in and out my moans only fueling his pace "m-marc" I moaned out as my hands moved to grip his shoulders, his thrusts sending me deeper into the cushions.

I threw my head back moaning out in pleasure "f-fuck" I wrapped my legs around his waist "that's it baby girl take it" he groaned leaning forward using his full body wait on me hitting all the right angles.

"R-right there" I panted crying out as he kept hitting that spot "oh baby you clenching around me" he muttered moving his into my neck as he started whispering dirty frazes in my ear.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I felt myself getting closer to the edge "gonna cum" I whined my legs tensing around him "that's it baby cum for me" he words only got me closer.

"Cum with me" he yelled out his thrust slowly started to fulter and his cock started to pulse "cumming" I screamed out and my breath caught in my throat as I felt him release in me.

He panted out as he sat back not pulling out and just stared at me with half lidded eyes his body glistening with a thin layer of sweat my eyes started to flatter as sleep was slowly consuming me I didn't see the change in his eyes intill I heard the voice

"Thank you amor"

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader smut #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader smut #steven grant smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector smut #marvel x reader #moon system #moon system x reader

[first-edition]

Moon boys (Steven grant/ Marc Spector/Jake lockley X Fem! Reader)

Sum- Night before christmas your husbands give you a special gift.

Warnings- Oral sex (fem recv.), SEX. P-in-V, Unprotected, rough sex, hair pulling, light slapping, squirting, mirror kink (if you squint.), riding, pet names, mention of both male and female parts, cussing, 18+ language and themes, after care, long intercourse, hickies, my ditty google translate Spanish. (Sorry)

SMEI-PROOF-READ sorry for errors (suck it up)

THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 READ WITH CAUTION AND HAPPY SMUTMAS.

Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, you watch as Steven feeds his fish the premium fish food he got for christmas. 

“There you go gus…special food.” he says watching him eat it. 

“What are you doing baby?” Marc speaks as he stands putting the food to the side. 

“Nothing.. Just watching you both talk to the fish.” you smile looking up to him as he walks to you standing in front of you. 

“I got all the presents wrapped and under the uh…tree.” you say looking over at the fake little tree that sits on a box in the corner of the room. 

“Hmm. Steven not get a real one this year?” he asks you to shake your head. 

“It's okay though.” you say scooching back onto the bed as he kneels on it the covers dipping under his weight. His lips connect with yours as you both share a passionate kiss. 

His lips move to your jaw line. 

“Fuck…you smell so good.” he grunts into your neck leaving sloppy kissing behind. His hands move under your shirt. You feel his calloused fingers against the skin of your waist moving higher to connect to your breast as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I know you feel so much better.” he says gruffly in your ear causing blush to attack your face your breathing speeding up. You take his face in your hands connecting his lips with yours. His hand leaves your chest and moves to your thigh pulling your legs apart lifting your leg up and around his waist holding onto your thigh before leaning back from your lips and pulling off his shirt. 

His scarred, ripped chest mouthwatering to your sight. He pulls off his belt discarding it and his shirt somewhere in the room. He comes right back to your lips kissing you deeply breathing in your scent. Your hands feel along his skin. Breaking the kiss for s second once more to pull your shirt off your breast free nipple harder from both arousal and cold air. Youre left in your small christmas themed panties. 

“Imma give you over to steven baby huh?” Marc speaks lowly, glazing in the mirror after Stephen was yelling at him to go first. 

“M-marc.” you breathly speak. He kisses down your body since they've learned to shift without it looking like a seizure; it's seamless to his voice shifting into Steven's sweet English accent. 

“I'm going to take these off now, love.” he speaks softly which makes you giggle at his politeness where Mark would rip them off without asking. 

You nod to him and he pulls off your panties, mouth watering at the sight of you always so wet and ready for him. 

Before any other word or action can be done he grips your thighs throwing them over his shoulders and diving face first into your cunt his skilled tounge immedtley finding your clit suckling and swirling. 

“A-ah! f-Fuck! Ste-steven!” you scream out in pure pleasure of a moan as you weren't expecting such pleasure so fast it shocked you. He answers you with a moan, the vibration hitting a new type of nerve. 

Your hand finds his hair gripping his fluffy curls, your other hand gripping the bed sheet under you, your back arching. His tongue dips into your entrance back to your clit over and over as your writhe in pleasure. He will never miss the chance to eat you out so good you go absolutely brain dead for him. 

Marc should be waiting in his headspace but he sits in the reflection with Jake, arms crossed, watching as you moan and whine under Steve's firm grip holding onto your thighs. The sight of his alter makes you feel the best turning him on even more. Making him more excited for his turn. 

“St-steven..ah sl-slow down. Ngh!” you gasp out back arching as you feel your climax approaching. But he does the exact opposite and wraps his arms around each thigh sitting up kneeling sitting back on his heels pulling your body up with him your lower half off the bed. 

You gasp as you make eye contact with him, his eyes dark and lust blows before your eyes roll back cumming into your husband's mouth. 

You grip the sheets tightly as your orgasm washes over you. Giving your cunt one last drag lick of his tongue does he carefully set you down licking his lips before wiping his mouth like he just devoured his dinner. 

You pant fuck out already with out even any dick. Steven glances at the mirror and Marc fronts getting up off the bed pulling off his pants, his already hardened cock leaking and twitching in his grasp. 

“You ready for round two baby?” he asks not really wantign an answer as he’ll fuck you anyway. 

“Wh-what?” you ask not to hear him. But before you can decipher the message he pulls your legs again rubbing his tip up and down against your used slit. You flinch in pleasure as he brushes over your stimulated clit. 

“Come here honey.” he says taking your arms placing them around his neck as he allows you to brace for the fucking hes gonna give you. 

He slides in easily as you were well teased before. Bottoming out in you in no time he begins to thrust up into you. 

“Shit…” he groans, feeling you clench down around him. Your nails dig into his skin as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Ma-a-a-arc!” you moan out as he impales you over and over his member is perfect in every way filling you so good. 

“You fucking slut baby, my fucking slut huh?” he groans. 

“yes - ah -y-yours.” you moan uncontrollably as he pulls your leg over his shoulder kissing and marking up your inner thigh. He pants and groans at your pulsing walls as he takes you over and over. 

He leans back slighting allowing his hand to dip between you his thumb connecting to your overly sensitive clit and with a view rubs you cum on his cock mouth opening into an o face beautifully contorting. Your clenching cunt around him makes Marc cum deep into you with a moan. 

He lets go of your leg carefully taking it off his shoulder resting it on the bed making sure to stay in between your legs. He leans down to you kissing your face and neck making you giggle. Marc chuckles into your neck as you wrap your arms around him pulling him down to you.

“Don't say that,” he says. 

“I didn't say anything.” you speak. 

“Mm-mm not you baby, jake.” he says, glancing back at the mirror set up in the corner of the room, a hidden kink between the two of you.

You turn your head, you see you and Marc are still tangled in each other, you smirk before pushing Marc over to your on top of him. You look behind you at the mirror before Marc smacks his hand down on your ass making you gasp and giggle again. 

“Come on Jake, honey, if you got something to say. say it to my face…papi.” you joke the last word. The once soft placement of Marc's hand on your ass turns into a tight grip. 

“I was saying, that if you can smile and laugh you havent been fucked rough enough.'' Jake says you look down seeing your other lover. Hard blush now pasting your cheeks. 

“F-fuck.” you stutter not expecting him to actually front. Out of the three you rarely see jake he’ll only come out when both marc and steven arnt doing well and usually he’ll come out to give you the fucking of a life time. But on rare occasions he’ll join you in the shower just to run his hands along your body, tease you about and then help you dry and dress before cuddling for a bit before you wake up and either Marc or Steven are back. But goddamn is he good at after care.

His arm extends his hand wrapping around your throat snugly before he sits up. Your mouth falls agape. 

“What? No smile for me Princessa?” He says you give a cocky smile before he slaps your cheek, not enough to do any true damage but just enough for you to feel as it goes straight to your pussy again squeezing around his now hardened dick. 

“Smile again.” he says which comes out more like a threat as his lips grazing against your jaw line. You do so and in return get another slap making you giggle which pisses him off more he takes his other hand, the one he slapped you with, and pulls your head back by your hair causing a whimper out of you wiping the smile off your face. 

He takes his handoff your throat and moves it to your hip patting your skin speaking his accent strong. 

“Ride,” he speaks. You don't listen but once he gives a firm tug to your hair you whine and then move your hips forwards and back. His grip on your hair loses but not enough for you to look at him as you still look at the ceiling. 

“Arms behind your back, hold your elbows.” He instructs you to immediately list and put them behind your back, bending them and holding onto your own elbows to keep them there much like how he would time them with his belt. 

“Mm good girl.” he groans as your hips move against you forcing all of him to shift in you. Moving his hand from your hip to your breast he pinches your nipple playing with it while his mouth connects to the other one. 

“J-jake.” you gasp out. He tugs on your hair and bites your nipple. 

“Nuh uh!” he snaps at you. 

“P-papi.” you stutter out. 

He hums loosening the grip on your hair once again. 

“Come on princess, you can ride better than that. Marc and Steven had you being a pillow princess, with me, you're gonna work for it.” he says slowly. You pick up the pace but unfortunately you feel as though you're not going to last long. Not with your clit rubbing against him and his cock hitting the perfect spots. He can feel you clenching around him as your movement becomes sloppy he lets go of you completely and grips both your hips stopping you forcing you to freeze your motions panting in ecstasy. 

Your legs shake under you as your orgasm is put on hold. When your legs stop shaking and your breathing goes back to normal, Jake pats your thigh and lays back. 

“Go again.” he says, your eyes widened as you look at him. He raises his eyebrow at you, tightening his grip on your thigh. 

“¿Hice tartamudeo?” He asks you dont answer having known very very little Spanish or atleast what he's taught you. 

“Did I stutter whore?” he asks again not wanting to ask again. 

“No.” you answer only for a sting to hit your thigh as his hand slaps down against the skin. 

“No papi.” you fix your mistakes quickly. Your hips begin to move again keeping your arms behind your back once again feeling the slow eventual build up of an orgasm. Once again he stops you in your lust filled state feeling your cunt fluttering around him making him go crazy on how you please him with being so obedient to his commands. 

“Again,” he says. You let out a shaky breath and once again continue grinding against him. This time you reach your high faster but Jake can still tell but this time he doesn't stop you as he sees tears threatening at the corner of your eyes and your flushed body and worn out legs. 

You reach behind you taking your arms untangling them and bringing your hands up to his chest to support yourself. 

“Go on. Princessa cum for me hm?” he says as your nails dig into his chest making him groan in pleasure as you fuck yourself on him finally cumming. 

“My turn.” he chuckles and grips your hips and roughly thrusts up into you causing you to scream out a moan. Your head falls forward, your hair falling in front of your face as you take his cock once again.

His hand shifts again to your clit making sure to fully overstimulate you. You hear his moans underneath you as you feel his dick twitch inside you signally he’s close. 

“P-pa-api..ah ah!” you moan out the neighbors surely hearing you. 

“Come on princessa squirt on me! hacer un lío hacer un lío.” he speaks 

(make a mess)

“Agh fuck.” Jake groans out as he roughly thrusts up into you cumming deeply into you once again and as if on cue the last rub of your clit your body does exactly what he demanded. Your cunt squirts on him painting his abs.

He chuckles sitting up holding your head up from the back of your neck. Kissing your lips. 

“Good girl.” he says. Before carefully pulling you off him and setting you down he gets you going to the bathroom turning on the bathtub water before wetting a washcloth with the warm water cleaning off his stomach from you and his cum. Hurryign back to you he sees you breathing lightly fucked out laying on your side nude in bed. You're covered in hickies.

“Princess.” he speaks calmly as he pulls his boxers off the floor pulling them on. 

“Hey” he says moving your hair out of your face brushing his thumb against your cheek. You lean into his touch causing a smile to form on his face. 

“You alright?” he asks you to nod your head. 

“Come on.” he says, lifting you like a rag doll and pulling you up into his arms, lifting you off the bed before taking you to the bathroom to help clean up. He changes the sheets and helps you dry and dress before drifting back off to sleep with you. 

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #Steven grant x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #Marc spector #marc spector x reader #Marc Spector x reader smut #Jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley x reader smut #Moon knight smut #moonknight x reader smut #Moon boys x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc Spector x jake lockley x reader smut #Steven grant x Marc spector x jake lockley x reader #jelsasnowflakessmutmas #smutmas 2023

[thatredheadwriter]

Mine

steven grant x reader (mentions marc spector x reader)

The suit, the suit is amazing. Honestly it is. But you can’t help but be the slightest bit annoyed when it erases the marks you leave all over him. Lucky for you, Steven’s more than happy to let you have another go.

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Steven Grant of the show Moon Knight (with mentions of Marc Spector). This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18 (or the age of majority in your locale). As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

Mentions of canon-level violence

Swearing

Cute pet name for reader

Marking/biting

Possesiveness kink (use of the word ‘mine’ a lot, not jealousy)

grinding/dry humping

Spit as lube (kinda, you’ll see)

P in V penetrative sex

Unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

Riding (female on top)

Creampie

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

You had a love-hate relationship with Khonshu the moon god.

While others might balk at your open animosity towards a deity with his power, you felt it was perfectly justified given how much he fucked up your life and your boyfriend’s life. Well, technically boyfriends, plural. It was a little confusing sometimes, being in a relationship with both Marc and Steven, and them being part of the same system, but oh if they didn’t make it worth your while every chance they got.

But no, sometimes you couldn’t stand Khonshu, and this was one of those times.

You’d spent the entirety of your lazy Sunday afternoon sucking hickeys and leaving little love bites on Marc as you wasted the day away drinking cheap wine and watching horrible television. Beautiful crimson scratches decorated his back that night once he was finished with you.

You put in all that work, painting his skin so beautifully with the evidence of your love, only for it to be gone as he stood before you now.

Now, you were grateful for Khonshu. He’d saved Marc’s life all those years ago and it’s true that without him you would have never met either of them, and it is his armor that protects them when they’re fighting evil, or whatever. And you were grateful for the armor itself. You’d seen Steven shishkabobbed, Marc stabbed and shot, and the armor allowed them to come out completely fine, better than fine really.

But did it always have to undo your masterpieces?

Every time one of them would call up the suit, its healing properties would magically undo the constellation of marks you’d worked so hard on, usually just hours earlier.

Steven played with the hem of his sweater, watching as you worked in the kitchen of your shared flat. He could tell something was bothering you. It was in the way your brow stayed furrowed even after you’d scrubbed away the stubborn spot of dried cake batter from the counter and how you were silent, rather than humming a song from one of the fifty different playlists you had for cleaning.

Typically he wouldn’t disturb you. As a neat and tidy person himself, he understood wanting to work alone for a bit, finding calm in the monotony of cleaning. But something was eating at you, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

He made his way around the bar and came to stand behind you at the sink where you were wiping out coffee mugs from breakfast. His arms wrapped around your middle as he leaned in to the side and placed a chaste kiss to your left temple.

You sighed, a further sign of your irritation.

Steven took the dripping mug from your hands and set it in the drying rack before taking a step back from you. His lingering hands on your waist pushed and pulled, prompting you to turn and face him.

“What’s wrong, dove?” he asked, head tilted like a confused pup.

You were chewing on the inside of your cheek before you answered a simple, “Nothing.”

“I know when you’re hiding something,” he pushed, hands reaching out for your hips once more, his thumbs running in soothing circles over your lower abdomen.

You looked at his cocked head and raised eyebrows and sighed in defeat.

“It’s stupid, that’s all,” you turned back to the sink and reached in for something else to watch.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Steven said from behind you.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“How can it be stupid if it’s bothering my dove?” he asked, moving your hair aside so he could kiss the back of your neck.

His sweetness made you smile and roll your eyes a little.

You turned back to face him, wiping your hands dry on a nearby dishtowel.

“No, no, it’s just that…I hate it when…” you trailed off, wringing the towel in your hands.

“Hey, hey,” Steven leaned down until he was eye level with you, “You know you can tell me anything. What is it?”

“I just hate it when that stupid suit undoes all my hard work,” you confessed with a pout.

“The suit? What are you talking about?”

Your hand reached up and traced down the side of his neck, and his eyes widened in recognition. His face contorted as he stifled a chuckle and he managed to frown a bit.

“I’m sorry, darling. I know how much you like marking me.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head into his chest. He allowed your weight to push him back into the counter behind him. When you opened your eyes, you realized his exposed collarbone was right there and you took a moment to appreciate the fact that he never replaced his old stretched out jumpers.

With your arms still wrapped around him loosely, you moved just a bit so you could kiss your target before nipping at it lightly. Steven tensed underneath you as you began to work at the spot, sucking a fresh mark into the delicate skin.

Once you were satisfied with that one, you moved up higher, nose nudging his jaw as you searched for the special spot that made him putty underneath you. You knew you had it when he moaned in your ear, the sound making your core throb.

“Shit,” he whispered as your teeth sunk into the spot, leaving a pretty little mark.

“Love marking you Stevie,” you hummed, pulling him down so you could nip at his earlobe a little bit. “Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he sighed shakily. You could feel his cock hardening in his sweatpants up against your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grind against the growing bulge as you tangled your hands in his curls, still damp from the shower, and pulled his head back to give you full access to his jaw.

You finally pulled away after kissing and sucking down the hard line of his jaw, satisfied with what you’d done so far, and admired your work.

“God, Steven, you’re so pretty,” you breathed, running a hand over the stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving. Your thumb traced his bottom lip before you cupped his jaw and pulled him into a kiss.

Steven was an amazing kisser, despite his self-proclaimed lack of experience. Marc liked to claim it was muscle memory. But Marc’s lips and Steven’s were entirely different. Marc’s kisses were hungry and desperate, and yet somehow incredibly precise. Steven, on the other hand, he was soft and sweet. His mouth could be hot and needy, too, but he was always more gentle, more sloppy.

As  you pulled away from him, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it just a bit before releasing him completely.

“I want you now,” you murmured into the hollow of his throat, letting your hand come up to play with the gold chain that always hung around his neck.

“Then you can have me,” he smiled down at you.

Keeping as close to him as possible, you tugged him around the counter and pushed him towards the couch. There was no way you were making it all the way to the bedroom, not when he was just so beautiful and all yours.

You straddled his lap almost instantly, pulling his face down so you could pepper it with kisses and making him giggle. Your heart soared at the sound an you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle yourself.

“I love you,” you grinned at him, pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” he pecked you on the lips, once, twice, then the third kiss turned into something much deeper.

Your hands wandered up and down his chest, coming to a rest at the hem of his sweater for a moment before slipping underneath and caressing the warm skin there.

“Take it off f’me,” you urged, earning another giggle from Steven as he reached down to pull the worn fabric over his head and toss it onto the other end of the couch. You made a mental note to steal it later, as it was one of your favorites.

Your palms flattened against his chest to push him back against the couch cushions so you could kiss and nibble along his now exposed chest. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your sides and reaching down to knead your ass.

Little grunts of ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ and ‘so good’ left his lips as you worked across the wide expanse of bare skin, intent on leaving plenty of marks. Unconsciously your hips began to grind into his lap as you worked, his hands making you feel wonderful things.

“Mmm, “ you sighed, resting your head on his chest for a moment and listening to his steady heartbeat. Your hips were moving more deliberately now, your desperation growing as you rutted into him. “Need to feel you, Steven.”

He swore under his breath as you moved back a bit so that you could pull down his sweats and access his hard cock, finally freeing it.

You hunched over a bit and spit into your hand before wrapping it around Steven’s cock and pumping a couple times. His head was tossed back against the couch as you worked, mouth forming words that you couldn’t quite hear.

When you stood up, he whined, head snapping up to find you and figure out what made you leave him, but what he saw more than made up for it.

You were pulling your t-shirt over your head, revealing the delicate flesh of your breasts and stomach. Steven’s hands explored your body as your thumbs hooked in your short and panties, pulling them down your legs in one quick motion.

Steven’s hands on your hips helped to guide and steady you as you moved to straddle him once more and position yourself over his cock.

The two of you groaned in tandem as he filled you, taking a moment to enjoy the closeness. Your arms were wrapped tight around his shoulders, holding him closer that you ever thought possible.

“God, I could stay like this forever,” you panted, your grip loosening so your hands could roam his back.

“I-I don’t know about forever,” Steven laughed breathily. His hips rutted up against you involuntarily and you bit down on your lip so hard that you were afraid you’d drawn blood.

You began rolling your hips in a circular motion, grinding his hips into you. Both of you were trembling groaning messes, a tangle of body and mind and soul.

His pubic bone ground against your clit so perfectly, your mouth opened in a silent scream. Steven saw this as the perfect opportunity to capture you in another open mouthed kiss, teeth knocking against each other as both of you gasped for breath.

You changed your approach a little, electing to bounce up and down on him a bit. Steven helped of course, thrusting up into you as much as he could.  Your hands tangled in the short hair at the back of his head as your pleasure built.

“Fuck, Steven. M’gonna cum,” you whined, dipping your forehead to rest on his shoulder as he took the lead, fucking up into you with all he had.

“Come on, you can do it, dove,” he whispered in your ear. One of his hands left the bruising grip he’d had on your hip to slide two fingers in where your two bodies met. They curled up, rubbing hard on your clit.

You came fast and hard and it felt like every molecule of your being was vibrating on the same frequency. The only thing in your universe was Steven underneath you.

Steven was still chasing his own high and as he became lost in the throws of his own pleasure, he was worried about dropping you or allowing to slide off of his lap, so he carefully rolled you over to rest your back on the couch.

He slipped out of you only for a moment before he was inside you again, thrusting irregularly and you knew he was close. You drew him to your body as his climax built and scraped your nails down his back. The slight sting of pain mixed with the sensation of your cunt squeezing him finally took him over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he swore into your ear as you sucked one last hickey on the side of his neck. His heart rate was slowing and his breathing became more steady as he finally pulled out of you.

“Mmm,” you hummed blissfully as he sat back on the couch, a tired sigh leaving his swollen lips. “I got you all marked up again. Now everybody’s gonna know you’re mine.”

He laughed at that, but stopped suddenly, cocking his head as if he was listening for something.

“Marc wants to know if you’re up for round two in the shower,” he said, slight flush to his cheeks. He’d just fucked you raw, and now he was getting embarrassed. Steven always managed to make you smile with how cute he was.

You smiled, lolling your head back to study the ceiling.

Steven cleared his throat, “He says…well he says it’s our turn to leave some marks on you.”

The thought had your thighs rubbing together, wanting to feel their teeth on you, mouth all over.

“I think we can make that happen,” you grinned at him before jumping up and moving towards the bathroom.

“Hey, Marc,” you addressed the alter, “First one in gets to pick the water temperature.”

You watched as Steven’s whole body tensed and his eyes rolled back in his head before he jumped up, chasing after you. Marc was competitive, and you loved to get him worked up so you could get him worked up.

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

#moon knight #not a spoiler #moon knight imagine #moon knight smut #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader smut #marc spector #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut #steven grant oneshot #marc spector oneshot

[lis-likes-fics]

Yoga Partners

Pairings: Marc Spector x Reader, mentions of Steven Grant x Reader & Jake Lockley x Reader Word Count: 2.6k Kink: Floor Sex Warnings: NSFW, fingering, p in v, multiple orgasms, swearing (a lot of 'fuck's), creampie... A/N: I kinda wrote this really quickly but I had fun with it cuz it's actually like....really vanilla and really sweet? Idk, enjoy!

Marc leans against the door frame, strong arms folded over his chest as he stares appreciatively. He watches you stretch, knees tucked under you as you reach up above your head on a yoga mat. He watches your muscles tense and relax as you take in those slow, deep breaths that make your chest and back rise and fall smoothly.

After a while, you change, pulling your legs from under you. You rise up on your hands and feet, to the tips of your toes in a downward dog.

Marc sighs with a smile, shaking his head gently as he blows a second breath out. "Woof," he mumbles.

You chuckle, "Are you just going to stand there and stare like a pervert, or are you going to join me?"

He shrugs a shoulder, shucking his jacket from his arms and tossing it onto the bed behind you. "Don't mind if I do."

When he comes up behind you, he sets his hand on the ample round of your butt and smooths his palm there. You roll your eyes but continue holding as you focus your breathing in a steady in and out.

He smacks it lightly. "Marc," you scold playfully with a little chuckle. "Either join me or I'll ask Steven to do it."

He grumbles under his breath and kneels down to the floor.

"Lay on your stomach," you say as you do the same. He follows your instructions and copies you. "Hands by your side, lift your upper body slowly."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him starting a pushup. You roll your eyes and laugh, moving out of your position to fix him. "No! This is yoga, we are not exercising."

"Well, you basically said do a pushup, so I did a pushup," he shrugs. You push him back down gently and fix his stance to do it properly. As you place your hand on his chest and ease him up slowly, he struggles a little. "You know, I'm not that flexible."

"Funny," you giggle, "Steven is."

"Jake isn't."

"Well, Jake also lives in a perpetual hunch so…" He laughs. "Maybe I should get Steven. He's my yoga partner anyway."

Marc shoots you a mock dirty. "Steven's asleep."

"Aw," you sigh, smoothing your hand along his back as you have him hold the position. "I guess I'll have to settle for the…second best."

He scoffs and turns his head to look at you. "Second best?" You don't look him in the eyes as you shrug. "I'll show you second best."

In the next second, you yelp as he practically tackles you to the floor, pinning you under his body as he takes hold of your wrists in a gentle grip. You laugh heartily as he leans over you, he watches with a fond smile.

"I can still pin your ass."

You lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. "You're right, my big, strong man."

He shakes his head and bends down to kiss you. He captures your lips, and you smile against them.

"Don't patronize me," he teases.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him back down, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling gently. His lips strayed from yours, finding your neck and your collarbone and column of your throat. He kisses you gently, dedicatedly, listening to your light sighs.

"I love you, baby," he whispers into your skin. You smile wide, looking at him through hooded eyes as you hold him closer.

You guide your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter at the feeling as you pet him slowly. "I love you, too."

He kisses you again, a little fraction of his weight dropping down some more on your body. You take it in stride, spreading your legs apart to give him a place to lay. He settles there as you continue to embrace, too loving and too gentle and too happy to just lay there and kiss.

A tiny gasp escapes you when he grinds his hips. It's a small motion, hardly noticeable, like an involuntary jerk. But it fuels Marc's sudden eagerness as he does it again, a little more voluntary this time. A stifled moan rises from your throat and he's hooked.

He takes hold of your hips, steadying you as he moves with a new goal. You can feel that goal growing between his legs and pressing into your thigh, and you sigh at the mere idea.

You feel his hand dip under the waistband of your leggings, hooking his fingers around it and pulling it down to reveal your panties. "Are you gonna be wet for me?" he asks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You hum, "Maybe."

His hand dips into your underwear and brushes your clit on the way to your pussy, his finger slipping between your folds thoughtfully. He just hums before delving his thick finger inside of you. You moan gently at the feeling, and he appreciated your warmth as you fluttered around him sensitively.

One of your hands left his hair to grip his arm, especially when he added a second finger and began massaging them inside you, slow and measured in a skilled manner. Your back arched into him on a curl of his fingers. "Ahh, Marc," you mutter.

"S'that feel good, baby?" he hums beside your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe. You nod meekly. "You want more?"

You nod again, breathing a heavy breath, "Please?"

His hand speeds up, the rhythm of his thrusts moving to bring you to the edge of ecstasy. You moaned, the sound almost whiney as you gripped his arm and tugged at his dark hair.

You feel his thumb brush your clit and you gasp, clenching around his fingers and whispering his name again. You wrap your legs around his waist and keen into his touch as he keeps touching you. You shudder when you cum, the feathery pleasure rattling through your body.

"Mm-Marc," you moan.

"Yeah, you like that?" he mutters, watching you cum with pleasure of his own, his eyes blown wide with lust and hunger. "You look so pretty when you cum, baby."

You smile at his sweetness, moaning into his mouth as you bring him down for a kiss. He goes in for two.

Marc lightly smacks the side of your ass, and you turn over onto your stomach with his hand on your waist. He folds his body to yours, kissing the back of your neck and leaning forward to put you on your knees.

He reaches for your hands, intertwines them with his on top to swallow yours whole. He keeps kissing you, any skin exposed to him is free game as he removes his shorts and underwear with one hand.

"Take off your shirt," you tell him, a gentle command as you glance over your shoulder.

He laughs lightly. "You want me naked, babygirl?"

"Well, duh."

"Okay, well, I'm taking this off, too," he says, snapping your sports bra against your side.

And he does. He gets rid of his shirt first, stretches of soft and smooth and scarred skin revealed in the light of the room as he strips you of your bra. His hands smooth over your back, feeling every inch of your skin as he rounded to the front to knead your breasts.

You feel him pressing against your thigh and clench around nothing at the thought. You reach behind you, your fingers brushing his tip as you take him into your hand and pump him in your palm. Marc hums lightly, wrapping a large hand around your smaller one and encouraging it up and down the length of his cock.

After a moment, he removes your hand, guiding you back into your former pose so your hands support you. He pumps his cock a couple more times, and you hold your breath when you feel him poke at your wet pussy. Slowly, he pushes inside and you feel your breath stop short in your lungs as he enters you inch by inch.

When he’s fully seated, you let out a deep sigh. You mutter his name and he grunts in your ear when your pussy flutters around him. He kisses the back of your shoulder, one hand wrapped around your chest and groping your breast as the other holds him up. Slowly, he rocks the both of your back and forth, a gentle sway that begins a steady rhythm in and out of you. Your breath hitches as your eyes fall shut at the feeling.

The drag of his cock is agonizingly slow as he eases in and out of you. After a while, you grow impatient as you moan. “Marc…” He hums deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest before a hiss as you clench around his cock. “More.”

“More?” he asks, holding you tighter. “You want more?”

“Yes, please,” you reply.

“Okay. You can have more.” He nods, unwrapping his arm from your chest in favor of guiding you forward until your hands reach above your head, palms to the floor and ass in the air. Marc straightens up, his hands roaming your back a moment before he grips your hips firmly and begins to set a different pace.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he praises, eyes closed as his hips thrusts into you. You duck your head between your arms, resting it against the mat underneath you as you feel the way he rocks into you. His pace is steady, a measured in and out movement that you can feel slowly building with Marc’s desperation as you continue to squeeze around him. “Fuck, I’m tryna be gentle here, baby.”

You grip the edge of the mat between your fingers, your breath heavier in your lungs than it was before as you shake your head. “Don’t,” you tell him with a cocky grin. “We already stretched.”

Marc is going to lose his mind. He grips your waist in his large hands as he begins to fuck you, pushing you forward onto the floor while he keeps your ass high in the air to fuck your pussy how he likes. He’s rough and fast as he has you gasping for air as you cry out for him. His hips snap into you with a ferocity he displays in stressful life as well. He’ll likely make it up to you later, a slow fuck in bed before he went to sleep and let Steven take over. Steven, who would likely also give you a nice slow fuck after just because you look so beautiful. Unless he goes absolutely ballistic and decides to fuck you into the bed, too.

Marc grips your ass and your hips and any skin he can find, grabby like a man who’s never touched a woman before and is just amazed by the way they feel. He grunts and groans, dark and deep sounds that fill the room with your high-pitched whines as he continues to pound into you.

“M-Marc!” you gasp. “Fuck, feels good.”

He’s just as out of breath as you feel when he responds. “Yeah? You like that? You like when I fuck you into the floor like this?”

You nod, holding the mat tighter and fluttering around him helplessly. “Yess, ‘s fuckin’ ama-zing.”

He chuckles at the way your words slur together, punctuated by harsh thrusts that make you stutter. He leans his head back, his lips parting as a few loud breaths leave his chest. “Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect, baby. Perfect for me.”

You preen under his praise, shuddering when his hands caressing your naked body. But you whine and whimper when he pulls out of you. Marc sighs as he smacks your side lightly, flipping you back onto your back as he immediately bends down and starts kissing you, his mouth all over your body to taste your skin. He encourages your legs over his shoulders, effectively folding you in half and making you moan loudly when he thrusts into you again. His hips snap into you quickly and you feel like you’ll bust if he keeps going.

You reach up and grab his face, pulling his forehead against yours and ignoring the ache in your thighs when you do so. The sounds of your heavy breathing and his hips slapping against your wet pussy fill the room, and it’s absolutely filthy as you continue to moan for him.

When his thumb finds your throbbing clit once more, your eyes flutter as you whine almost pathetically. “Ahh, fuck,” you curse, pulling his closer. “Fuck, you’re gonna…make me cum.”

He nods, rubbing your clit harder and loving the way your arousal has coated your inner thighs and his, making you absolutely wet and soaked and giving him a much easier advantage with your clit. “Cum for me, baby. Then I’ll cum for you.”

He isn’t rough with your clit, he’s hardly ever rough with your clit. Marc is always insistent whenever it comes to it, he rubs fast circles that build you up so quickly and it makes your head swarm. That’s what he does now, building you up and up and up until you come crashing down with a loud cry of pleasure, which blinds you and has you calling Marc’s name like a forgotten deity.

“Marc! Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimper loudly. You clench down around him, fluttering uncontrollably as you suck him in.

He keeps fucking you, fast and rough and deep and a little louder as you orgasm pushes him closer to his own edge. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, even after you’ve come down. You squirm as the aftershocks of pleasure sting, but he’s so attune to your body that it doesn’t take long for it to ease and return to that blossoming pleasure in your belly.

Marc’s free hand smooths up the underside of your leg and you whimper a little when he moves it even further, spreading you wider to get a deeper angle inside of you. He curses under his breath, catching your lips quickly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You squeeze harder. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and you bring him into another kiss. He cums inside of you, gripping your thigh tight and trying to keep his rhythm on your clit as he grunts loudly. “Fuck!” he nearly shouts. “Fuck, babygirl. You’re fucking perfect.”

He flicks his wrists as you join him in another orgasm, moaning weakly as you gush around him. He keeps fucking into you as you both cum, though his thrusts are choppy and short. He grinds his cock deep inside of you, and you both catch your breaths as the last waves of pleasure rock through you.

You sigh longingly, whining when he pulls out of you and whining again when he lets your legs down and you feel the way they ache from being up for so long. You kiss Marc again, and he opens his eyes to look at you. “I love you,” you assure him.

Marc smiles, a slow one that slowly consumes his face with a too-fond expression. He kisses your lips and the corner of your mouth and then your forehead and you feel warm inside at the affection. “I love you, too, baby,” he says. “Love you so much.”

“Good,” you sigh. “Now it’s time to shower. I’m fucking soaked.”

He laughs heartily, sitting up and holding out a hand to ease you up as well. “No kidding.” He glances at the both of you, cum covering your thighs and his and leaving you with a big mess to clean. “We’ll have to do this floor thing again, though.”

You pat his chest, already walking away as you smile fondly, letting him trail after you like a puppy. “Mhm.”

Oscar Isaac taglist: @loki-hargreeves @hb8301 @tessarqctt @fanreader @alexxavicry @gublur @katsukis1wife @hatterripper31 @papichulo120627 @anotherblackreader Tag yourself here...

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector smut #fanfic #fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #smut #reader insert #female reader

[winniethewife]

Thank you for the headcanons winnie😭❤️

You just give the best and most accurate headcanons ever!

Congratulations on the 300 followers, btw😍 You deserve more!

For the second request, I wanna throw off the boys😌

I mean what's the point of requesting if there won't be anything smutty right?!

So, gimme gimme *grabby hands* the headcanons about how our moon boys would react when they are mad and the reader gets turned on by that😃

*looks at the camera breaking the 4th wall* Y'all...Lets do this. Give Mani what she wants.

Pissed/Cross/Enojado

Moon-Knight Smut head canons (Female reader)

Warnings: Smut under the cut, Angry sex, phone sex, degradation, mild violence, general toxicity,

Marc

Marc was pissed off. He had just had a pointless fight over the phone with some guy about something. You weren't paying attention to details.

you were a little more focused on the tingling between your legs

Marc doesn't get mad very often, if ever. So you had no idea what his angry raised voice would do to you.

When he comes into the room he continues to rant and rave, trying to release some of the built up tension That's when he notices your squirming

"Baby are you...are you turned on right now?"

After you hesitantly tell him that yes you are turned on by his behavior, he's taken a back. He doesn't really know how to respond.

It isn't until the next time he's pissed off at something that it comes into play.

You heard him growl intensely as he walked through the door and before you can even ask what's wrong, your back is against the wall and his lips are on yours. His hands grabbing you like you're the answer to all his problems

There's nothing that's going to stop him from taking what he needs

Your pants torn off, his weeping cock at your entrance, as he bites at your neck.

"God...Fuck...Need this...Need you"

Steven

Steven Hardly ever gets Cross. Unless its about work, and Donna.

He was going on and on over the phone to you about how much he was done with Donna and all the shite he had to do as a giftshopist.

you couldn't help but enjoy his irate rambling. a little too much even.

your hand drifting down your body as you listen to his voice, coating your fingers in your slick as you rub your fingers between your damp folds

"And I told her that she should shove it where the light don't shine, or at least I wanted to but...Love? are you alright? it sounds like your whimpering?"

you stop in you tracks and try to figure out how to answer his question. you decide honesty is the best policy and tell him that your touching yourself.

You can hear his breath hitch. he couldn't help it the thought of your fingers inside of you.

"I can be at yours in half an hour. Don't move"

the phone line clicks. and you follow his orders. When he comes rushing in the door you can see the outline of his cock in his pants as he looks at you desperately.

"So...you need me that badly love? well. Let me help with that."

Jake

Jake, knew he had fucked up the second he had thrown that plate. but he was so angry.

as the plate had whizzed past your head you knew you should have been scared, but instead you found your cunt clenching around nothing and your mouth going dry.

"Dios mío, Sstás bien? I'm so sorry, I don't know...what came over me." Oh, my God, are you okay?

He rushes to hold you and be sure you are alright but wasn't expecting this reaction, the way you melted in his arms, the soft moan that escaped your lips as his hands touched your hips. at first he gets more mad, you are turned on by this? of all things?

His grip tightens on you and the way he huffs in anger before quickly bending you over the nearby counter. yanking down your pants as he starts to mutter curses under his breath.

"Putita, just want to be fucked is that it? you like this? You like me like this? well lets see how you feel after this. eh?"

he pushes two fingers into you with frustration, not caring that your not wet enough, not caring as you cry out from the stretch of your walls.

you cry out, the feeling is so good, but almost too much. As he finger fucks you he lets out all his anger on your poor little pussy. bringing you to your climax again and again and again.

"Te gusta cuando estoy enojado? Te mostraré enojado!" Do you like it when I'm angry? I'll show you angry!

~

300 follower celebration

Masterlist

#winnie answers #winnie does stuff #winnie celebrates #300 followers #300 follower celebration #head canons #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #x reader #moon boys #angst #smut #moon knight smut #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #marc spector smut

[romanarose]

WAIT I HAVE A THOT. IT WAS SUDDEN AND I JUST WANNA SCREAM IT.

AHH oko kok okok

imagine hand feeding fruit to marc like he's some emperor 🤭. you're watching as he envelopes a strawberry into his mouth, teeth pressing gently into the tender flesh, before slowly eating it. he can see how you melt at the sight, how desperately you wish you were in the berry's place.

everything escalates from there. suddenly, he's much more interested in tonguing the cherries, sucking orange slices, and letting the syrupy fruit juice dribble all over his mouth, chin, and neck. you want to lick it off him, taste the peach nectar straight off his skin.

he gets you all messy too, especially your hands so he starts sucking them clean, eyes locked on yours as he licks your finger tips and laves at your palms. his eyes drop to your lap and he notices that the juice has dripped all on your thighs...what to do ab that 😆

IDK IDK

Okay but like. Marc KNEELING BETWEEN YOUR LEGS, looking up at you adoringly

(Smut belooooow)

You’re in a skirt, it’s a hot day (thank you climate change) he’s in my boxer briefs like *that* scene in moon knight and everything’s already sweaty and sticky so you don’t mind the juice dribbling on you. Marc starting eyeing your skin with as much thrust as you eye his mouth on that plum. It’s not long before he’s alternating purposefully messy bites with “cleaning” you (aka he’s licking you up. Marc likes all the parts of you, not just tits and cunt, so he’s all over your tummy and thighs)

Pretty soon he’s got that dress up and over you, just you in your panties, but that doesn’t last long. Marc starts licking peach juices off your tummy, nibbling a bit before biting into the waste band of your panties and pulling them down off you all while keeping eye contact

You do *not* care about ruining the couch as you take all the juiciest fruits and squeeze them over your tits, watching the flavors dribble down ever roll and fold of your writhing body and down to where Marc is devouring you

#moon knight #marc spector #Marc Spector smut #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector x reader

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[inklore]

forbearance

premise: it’s a little game the two of you like to play; how long can marc hold out from giving in, and how convincing can you be to have him finally give you what the both of you want.

pairing: marc spector x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, thigh riding, marc being a little mean, dirty talk, pain kink, hair pulling, established relationship, tiny illusions to degradation kink, a bit of tantalolagnia from both reader and marc (aka a teasing kink).

etc: remember when i talked about writing this months ago? lmao well it’s finally here and we have kinktober to thank!!

kinktober 02 | kinktober masterlist

Sex with Marc was always a game. A game of strategies mixed with a resistance he found pleasure in; how long could he hold out, not allow himself to have what he truly desired—did he deserve it? Did he deserve you under him and withering? Your mouth around his cock? Did you deserve it?

Had the two of you slipped into that part of the game where the lines of pain and pleasure mingled together, the perfect mix. A cocktail of desire and resistance that was enough to be fun—enjoyable—but not enough to leave an ugly mark at the end of it; the bruised indents of the ghost of Marc’s fingers around your neck not included.

And maybe that’s why the two of you liked this game so much. Marc loved to resist and you loved to tease, to tempt, until he couldn’t take anymore and your nails were leaving marks in his skin and his cock was abusing your pussy to the point of incoherent sobs in the pillow.

Pleasure. Pain.

Temptation. Forbearance.

Equal parts that drove you both to that edge of sanity.

Tonight was no different. That little game of restraint in full swing as touches, glances held for far too long that sent a fluttering in your stomach, that tick in Marc’s jaw that told all he didn’t when your teasing words hit a nerve—a heavy silence settling between the two of you that felt more of a threat than any of his words could.

The boiling point overflowed once the two of you settled into your room. Once there was no need for his hard exterior to be on display for the public, dealers, and clients. In private those tells of the day, those ones only you could see and understand were just part of your game; built up until you were in private and Marc gave in, or you begged him with your mouth around his cock and his fist around your throat.

You had thought maybe tonight was going to be one of those nights.

That he would slam the door with the heel of his boot and bend you over the nearest surface, a release of frustrated air leaving his lungs when he slides inside of you—finally, after resisting all day, after all of the temptation.

But you should have known better. Should have known that Marc was in a tortuous mood. That tonight was not going to be easy, that the game would still continue once he sat and his arm looped around your waist to pull you into his lap: your hips straddling one of his thick thighs. His palm running up the slit in the dress he told you to wear for today's dealings, the dress he knew would make it hard for any man to say no to you in—everyone but him apparently.

Because when you try to press your mouth to his he’s grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling you back, a whine hissed from your lungs. A look of confusion and need on your face, while Marc’s holds stoic, cold. Unbothered even though your knee close to his crotch can feel his hardness pressing against his jeans.

“How bad do you want it?”

If it weren’t for his cock and that look of pleasurable meanness you’ve seen displayed in his dark eyes so many times before, you’d never guess—by his tone—that he was enjoying this, that the question wasn’t a threat but something dancing along the lines of want.

“Marc,” you begin, attempting a teasing smile but it’s ripped away with a tug of his fingers.

“How bad. Do you want it?” He repeats with venom. With no remorse at the tight hold he has in your hair, the pull making your scalp itch with pain.

“Bad—ahh—so bad,” you whine.

“Prove it.” The palm at your thigh continues its trail up your form until it’s settled at your hip, a movement of fabric and a heavy push and your clothed cunt is flush with his thigh. The difference in heat between the two body parts makes the wet lace of your undies stick to you uncomfortably. “Show me.” His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, pulling you forward so you grind against his thigh, “convince me to give it to you.”

The urge to protest, to just use your words to beg him for what you want, die somewhere in the back of your brain as that first buzz of pleasure wracks through your body. And when he untangles his fingers from your hair, leaning back against the couch, a wave of his hand at where your pussy pressed to his thigh—an unspoken ‘go ahead’.

That ache in your clit from wanting him all day, from his fingers in your hair, from that quick drag—and the look of frustrated hunger in his eyes—is enough to have your hands resting at his shoulders as you begin to rock your hips back and forth. The fabric of your underwear catching perfectly against his thigh and rubbing against your clit.

Your heavy breaths lead into heavy moans as Marc’s eyes keep themselves stationed on you; your eyes that you can barely keep open, the heady delirium of pleasure quickly kicking in. His gaze following the push and pull of your hips as they move along his thigh.

You wonder if he can feel how wet you are, if your pussy is soaking through his jeans and leaving a stain of your arousal.

Proof of how much you want him.

“Who knew you’d look as good as you do doing this, almost as pretty as when you’re riding cock.” You can feel the strain he keeps on your ass, his nails digging into your flesh. An added delight of pain that makes you choke on gasps. Your hips stuttering at more pleasure being added against your heated body.

“Wish I was riding your cock right now,” you hum.

“Do you? You look like you’re having just as much fun doing this.” There’s a hint, the smallest of upticks from the corner of his mouth, “think you can come like this?”

You nod without hesitation, can already feel that build up starting in your lower belly. Can feel the throb from the inside of your pussy to be filled, to have something to clench around as you reach that precipice.

“Or would you rather come on my cock? Should i make you wait? Leave you hanging until you’ve soaked my entire leg and can barely speak because you need to be filled.” His fingers grip hard into the meat of your cheek making you moan louder, hips rock faster, that throbbing turning into a pulsate ready to give way.

“Please, need you so bad, Marc.”

Marc smirks, “cock slut.” The insult sounding like a command to your needy insides. A flame burning in his eyes as he watches you come undone.

#marc spector smut #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac smut #marc spector x y/n #moon knight smut #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x reader smut #marc spector imagine #marc spector fic #marc spector one shot #marc spector x f!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[vigilanterenaissance]

I am pleased to announce my upcoming projects for this year's Kinktober! Shout out to the besties in the discord for helping me sort through my ceaseless rambling and half baked ideas. For the sake of my own sanity, I've elected to post one fic per week. In addition, I'm hoping to have one or two illustrations done to accompany each piece!

This post also doubles as a call for beta readers! I am in great need of a second pair of eyes on my work, and would love any help I can get. If that sounds like something you may be interested in, please DM me!

The works for next month are as follows (NSFW under the cut, obviously):

Week One: Poe Dameron x Mechanic!GN!Reader - friends to lovers + near death experience + fucking for survival

Week Two: Steven Grant x Coworker!Fem!Reader - mean!Steven + rivals to lovers + semi-public sex

Week Three: Marc Spector x Hathor's Avatar!Fem!Reader - sex pollen + breeding kink

Week Four: Poe Dameron x First Order!GN!Reader - torture + edging + heavy bdsm elements

I'm really excited to get this project off the ground, and I hope it's something y'all can look forward to as well. Who knew writing smut would be what it took to break my year long art block?

See y'all in October!

xoxo. graeme

#poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x reader smut #star wars #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader smut #marc spector #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut #moon knight #knktbr 2023

[softlyspector]

Deserve

Summary: Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader)

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: smut, some references to rough sex, angst (with a happy ending) - don't let me fool you this is just touch starved marc struggling with being loved

A/N: im fine im just really out here with nothing else to do but think about moon knight

Marc was an intense person. 

He was like the patter of rain against the roof, against an open window pane. He was like the shock and flash of lightning during a storm. 

The grim set of his mouth and shoulders, the unending weight of the world that made his brows dip into that hard line. Marc felt more than he let on, was affected by things people said and did, let the blows rain like ash against his skin and said nothing. 

You had learned long ago that Marc did not welcome comfort, that he felt it was something he did not deserve to receive. Soft, shaded mornings were for his alter. Everything squishy and warm, hazed in the breathy glow of a sunrise, was for you and Steven, not him. 

Maybe it wasn’t that Marc didn’t welcome comfort. 

He craved it, wanted it, longed for it. 

And he should not long for it, want it, crave it. 

He’d told you as much, over and over, the weight of your gentle hands against his skin like burning embers. 

He wanted it. He so badly wanted to sink into that flame, but he was worried it would burn him alive, melt him down into something unrecognizable. 

It was only when something went particularly badly that he allowed some comfort. 

He loves you, this you know. 

You see it in the heaviness of his stare, in the intensity of his worry, in the way he hugged you, held your hand, worried after you like you had not survived for years on your own. 

But if you ever dared to hold his hand, hug him, drag your fingers down the length of his spine, it was too much for him. These were things he could offer you, but that you should not give him in return. These were not things he deserved, these were things better reserved to his alter, who was deserving of everything he was not. 

Marc is intense.

He’s hard and wild and something close to broken some days, when reality drifts in and out of focus, when the world is best left in the hands of Steven.

There’s always a beating heart of anxiety behind everything he does, that this time he will not be enough, that this time he will not be fast enough, that this time the universe would get the last laugh again.

So when Marc fucks you, he is intense, he is like the weight of the all consuming world poured out. Salt water in wounds. 

You don’t mind. 

The times he’s gentle with you, you get the sense that he’s mourning, like the act is grief, something lost that he’s stealing back from the gods. Something that is temporary and definitely not for him. 

This night, he had come to you like the storm he bred inside him, the hatred of self and fear of a future he could not control, of a tentative reality of things only he could see. 

Marc was rough with you.

His fingers in your mouth, his hand hard against your cunt, against your ass. He had buried himself inside you, set a punishing pace. When his mouth was on yours, his kiss had been more like an effort to consume you. When his hand wrapped around your throat, his eyes had snapped to the mirror, and you had known Steven had been cautioning him, that you were in fact breakable, no matter what you said, that he should be careful of you. 

But you’d covered his hand with your own and tightened his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in whatever bit of himself he would give you. 

~

A last stuttering breath passes your lips, eyes screwed closed, pleasure lighting up the insides of your veins, molten, like a river of fire that never ends. 

You clutch the sheets beneath your fingers and turn your face into a pillow as the last waves of your orgasam shutter through you. You bite off the moan that bubbles to the back of your throat when you feel Marc shift inside you, so full it's almost painful. 

Your thighs tremble, the insistent pressure of Marc’s hand against the back of your neck keeping you in place. His other hand kneads the flesh of your hip, and you know a bruise has already formed there. 

Marc pulls back, and thrusts into you one last time, a pleasant satisfied ache beginning between your legs. 

The firm fingers at your waist finally let you drop your hips to the mattress. 

You feel weightless and warm, content, like you’re floating through a cloud. Marc presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, before the heavy bulk of his body surrounds yours. 

Disappointment darts through you in a brief little flash, because this is Marc’s parting gift to you always. 

The kiss between your shoulders, the all consuming fire of the warmth of him against you, before he hands the reigns to Steven. 

Marc never stays with you, after. The kiss against your spine is all you get from him. Whether because he can’t be bothered with taking care of you or because he feels he doesn’t deserve to, you aren’t sure. 

Steven is always there though, to kiss you back to life, to smile at you, make love to you so slowly and sweetly it was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.  

His fingers slide up your arms, massaging as he goes, until he reaches your clenched hands, gently uncurling them from the fabric of the sheets until he can twist his fingers with yours. 

You feel him squeeze carefully, his nose dipping to the crook of your neck. 

A stillness falls over you both, silence, peace, creating a warm little bubble. 

You don’t mind his weight against you, it settles the frantic beating of your heart, drenches you in warmth. 

Normally, Steven would say something to you when he fronted, a kiss against your cheek and a softly spoken hello, love. 

Today, he’s silent, arms tight and grounding around you. 

But it's Steven, you know it must be. 

Because Marc never stays. 

You turn your head, nuzzling your nose against his arm, feeling his damp skin against your cheek. You want to open your eyes, reach up and touch the little black curl of hair you know must be stuck to his forehead at that moment. 

You’re content to stay like that with him, content to feel the gentle drift of his nose along the curve of your jaw. So you keep your eyes closed and let your mushy, sex-addled brain drift, as lips press along your jaw, behind the curve of your ear. 

And you’re happy to stay in the gentle warmth being offered to you, the glow of being loved so well.

But then, he does something inexplicable. 

Steven pulls away from you. 

He gets up. 

And he leaves. 

An empty feeling that you don’t like crawls up from the pit of your belly. A feeling that’s suspiciously like abandonment, that you know is not grounded in reality. 

Steven never left the bed, not without saying something to you first, not before checking in with you to ask what you needed or wanted. Especially not when Marc had been so rough with you. 

It was a routine that was being broken, a sacred step you didn’t know needed spoken out loud. 

You swallow thickly, peeling your eyes open. 

You don’t like the dirty, used feeling that’s overwhelming you, like you did not matter. 

Pushing yourself up is a monumental task, the ache of your bones like the grinding of cinder blocks against your flesh. You glance over your shoulder at the door. 

Then there’s a clatter from the bathroom and the door swings open, Steven emerging in only a pair of briefs. He still doesn’t say anything as he approaches and encourages you with gentle hands to roll over, the brief warmth of a washcloth between your legs. 

Which is odd. 

Because Steven would normally lie with you and talk with you, until you were coherent again, until you were secure enough for him to move away without feeling the sting of abandonment. 

Steven also talked almost non-stop to you, never without something to say. 

Normally,  you would throw on a shirt and play cards in bed, watch something on your laptop. Sometimes, Steven would just hold you and talk. Sometimes, he would make love to you again. 

But none of that happened until you were ready. 

Steven still doesn’t speak to you as he climbs back into bed, handing you Marc’s discarded shirt, which he gingerly helps you sit up and slip on.  

Steven’s head twitches toward the mirror, and you watch him watch his reflection for a moment. You frown, wondering what Marc could be saying to him. Marc, who always and without fail disappeared and walled himself off from both of you. 

And then it dawns on you. 

In your post-orgasm haze, and without the sound of his voice, you hadn’t noticed the signs that this was very clearly Marc still fronting, not Steven. 

Marc never stayed with you, never. 

Your throat is tight when he doesn’t say anything, his head is still swiveled toward the mirror, brows drawing tighter together with each passing minute. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat, “c’mere.” 

You snuggle down and hold out your arms. 

You half expect him to huff out an exasperated breath and lay back but avoid your touch. 

But he doesn’t. 

He curls into your arms, nudging his nose into the hollow at the base of your throat. He cradles you close, inhaling gently. 

But to your utter surprise, he lets you smooth your hands over his shoulders, through his unruly curls. The motion of it soothes you, comforts you. 

You glance toward the mirror and wish that you could see Steven there too, so you could ask what was going on in Marc’s head, why he was pretending to be Steven. 

“You okay?” You say as he lets you run a hand down his face, over the ridge of scar above his brow. 

It takes Marc a long time to respond, buried in your skin as he is, breathing you in, tracing rough hands along your hips and over your thighs, massaging where he knows you must be sore. 

You kiss the top of his head, blearily giving him all the love he was usually too prickly to receive.

He nods against you, so you slip hands down his back, over his hair. You aren’t sure why he’s pretending, but you find you don’t mind. It’s the kind of love you always want to shower Marc with but that he rarely allows. 

You want to ask him why, why he didn’t let Steven front. But you worry he might think you’re asking to see Steven, that you don’t want him there with you. 

Emotionally, Marc was a fortress, impenetrable and soldily quiet. Things simmered down in his gut, pushed away and down down down, until they overwhelmed him, until they burst to the surface in a violent torrent. 

Most often, it was when someone he loved was in danger, when the past became something he could no longer stare down, when the things he avoided were impossible to ignore.

And you’re terribly afraid that if you say anything now, he’ll clam up, shut down, pull away from you, leave the flat and take your heart with him. 

Gently, you slide down, until you’re eyelevel with him, one hand against his neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw carefully. 

You feel Marc’s hands go to the small of your back, big hands gingerly tugging you closer, until your nose is touching his, until you share the same air. 

And you can hardly believe that the man who had smacked your pussy, held you down and fucked you until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, whispered filthy things in your ear that you can hardly remember, that your brain fuzzes out when you think about too much - is now holding you so gently you may as well be made of delicate glass, is now allowing you to stroke your hands through his hair, pet his broad shoulders. His eyes are closed, trust you didn’t think Marc possessed pouring over you in waves. 

You know why. 

You know why he’s doing this. 

Marc would rather accept love in the guise of his alter than ever believe he was worthy of it himself. 

You think about the hatred that lives inside Marc, about the self-hatred that loomed always at the back of his mind. The hatred that ran so deep, that he felt so potently, that even his alter had thought the worst of him at first.��

Killer, mercenary, cold-blooded. 

Things that Marc accepted into the folds of who he was without question. 

Marc never let you hold him like this, and so you do so for as long as you can bear, tilting your chin into his so you can kiss him softly, feeling the slow drift of his hands down your sides to the curve of your ass, over the bruised skin of your hips and thighs. He hooks his fingers behind your knee and tugs your leg over his hip. 

You finger a curl at the back of his neck, the glow of brown skin molten in the low light of the flat. 

You swallow and hope that you don’t drive him away, but you can’t stand it any longer - his thinking that this is softness you would only grace Steven with. 

“Marc,” you whisper. “I know it's you.” 

Even the way they hold you is different. Of course, you can always tell. You did not need their voices to tell you who was fronting. 

Marc’s eyes flash open and you’re surprised to see fear there. 

You hold fast to him, though he doesn’t try to pull away. You raise a questioning brow and resume your gentle ministrations, trying to show him without words that you did not treat him carefully because you thought he was Steven. 

“How’d you know?”

You shake your head and press your thumb against the center of his chin, “I can always tell. It’s not something you can really hide.”

He tries to tug his face away from your hand but you don’t let him, stubbornly making him look into your eyes. 

“Baby,” you say, “You know that you are just as deserving-,”

“Don’t,” he says sharply. “Don’t do that.”

“But you are, Marc. I always want to do this but you always leave me,” you stoke a hand through his hair. “I know Steven has talked to you about it, too. Told you that you don’t have to go.”

Marc is stiff against you and you consider for a moment letting him go. 

But you don’t. 

You hold on, and murmur, “It’s okay to want this. It’s okay.” You keep feathering your hand through his hair, your touch as gentle as you can make it. “I love you, you know.” You touch the gold chain around his neck and finally glance away from his eyes, staring at the hollow of his throat instead as you say, “You don’t always have to have your walls up. I’m not - I won’t -,” you stop and consider your next words. “I love you exactly as you are.” 

There’s a long moment of silence after that, one in which your heart beats painfully fast and you wait for Marc to push you away. 

But it doesn’t come, his body slowly relaxes against yours again, your fingers continuing their careful press against his skin. 

His head tips toward the mirror on the wall, and he nods after a few long minutes, carefully plucking up one of your hands, to kiss each of your fingers, the flat of your palm, and then to curl them closed again, hold your hand against his chest. 

You can feel the steady thrum of his heart, and Marc doesn’t look at you when he says. “I want it too.” 

You wait a moment but he doesn’t say more. 

“I’m happy to give it to you, Marc.” 

“You - you give too much as it is.” He pauses for a long moment, before pushing you onto your back, hovering over you, his eyes darting over your face. 

And you’re amazed, wondering, at the love struck expression he wears, like you were the pinnacle of a universe that barely made sense, that was barely held together. 

“Steven deserves this,” he nods down at you. “He’s never-,” 

You hear the unspoken words - that is why Steven was born after all, to be all the things Marc thought he wasn’t, to shield himself. 

“Stop it. Marc, you are not your past. You are not bad. You carry around the weight of the world and these sins you think are yours alone. They aren’t.” You tip your head up to nudge your nose against his, Marc’s hands pinning both of yours to the space beside your shoulders. 

Marc is looking at you in that intense way of his, brows furrowed, mouth tilted in that overly-serious line. 

“And what if I don’t think I deserve it, huh? To get you like this?” 

“Don’t listen to you, then. Listen to me.” You hitch your knees up to frame his hips, holding him against you, levering pressure into the backs of his thighs until he drops down fully against you. “You deserve it. More than most.”

You know everything he’s ever done is flashing through his mind. His brother’s death and his mother’s wrath. His time as a mercenary, his time in the military. The way he thinks he breaks and folds and isn’t strong enough, never strong enough, not enough. The mistake of Khonshu. The way he thinks he failed Layla and Steven, and that he will do it all over again. 

“Hey,” you nudge his jaw again. “Quit that.” 

Marc nods slowly, intense stare pinning you down. “I deserve it.” He says it like he expects you to disagree with him, to laugh. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll remind you of that.” He releases your wrists, burying his nose in your neck, the breath he sucks in is shaky and wild, the drum beat of a storm he stored inside the stoic stone that surrounded his heart. 

You cup a hand against the back of his neck, your other hand sliding down his side, tracing the violent scars that dot his ribs. Carefully, you slide his boxers down his thighs. Your touch is soft against him, your body already welcoming to him, and he slides into you with a quiet groan. 

It’s not like making love with Steven, who was sillier and goofier than Marc would ever be. 

It’s different to how Marc normally fucks you, when the mood strikes him to give it to you slow. 

This time, it's sweet, it's like the smoky burn of incense, like the homecoming he’d been waiting for for years. Marc kisses you softly, groans into your mouth when he was normally quiet aside to talk to you, demand things from you. 

You tighten your legs around him, encourage him to move slower, push deeper. 

“Fuck,” he whispers against the delicate skin of your neck. 

Sweat beads on his forehead, the glow of him against you like the sun. When you push the curls back from his forehead to look into his eyes, you catch something vulnerable in your heart, like the knife of everything Marc was storming into you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs again. 

He ducks his head to kiss a path along your throat, where earlier his palm had circled the flesh. 

You drag your nails along his back, rub a hand through his hair, rock the cradle of your hips along with his. 

Marc reaches for one of your hands, kisses your fingers before guiding your hand to your cunt, “Sorry baby, I’m not gonna last. Need you to touch yourself for me.” 

You’re only a little bit shocked, but you tip his chin up to kiss him. Marc normally had a stamina that could win awards. 

Not now, it seemed. Not when you had given him permission to be slow and gentle and soft. 

Your breath is squeezed from your lungs, the heavy drag of him inside you almost enough to make you come. 

Marc doesn’t let you breathe, his mouth an insistent press against yours until you pull away with a gasp and you hear the sound of a quiet laugh against your throat, teeth digging into your jaw. 

You come unexpectedly, hips jerking up to meet him as Marc gives a harder thrust, looping an arm beneath one of your knees to open you up more, to slide that much deeper. 

The spot he hits within you makes your toes curl, makes it hard to catch a breath. 

“I can destroy you like this too, huh?” Marc asks, grinding against you, hips swirling as you groan from the breathless pleasure darting up your spine. 

“Don’t ruin this, Spector,” you huff, nipping at his jaw, only laughing a little. 

“Keep touching yourself. I didn’t say to stop,” he answers. 

Your eyes roll back when his tongue curls against the hollow of your throat. “I want you to come again,” his voice is a husky rasp in your ear.  

You’re still wearing Marc’s shirt, but when he releases your leg to palm your breasts through the fabric, you regret ever letting him partially dress you. 

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, “You’re so tense. Come for me again, hm? Come for me.” When he pinches your nipple and rolls it between his fingers, you do. White hot pleasure courses up your spine, makes your mind go blank. “Fuck, are you coming?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I’m coming for you.” 

“For me,” he repeats. “For me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, pleasure making your vision go fuzzy, your exhausted body trembling. “Marc, I love you.” 

His hand goes to your ass, angles your hips, before he thrusts so deep you see stars and he spills inside you.

You make sure to wrap your arms around his head, tightening your grip until he wiggles. “Can’t breathe, baby.” But you don’t want him to go anywhere, you don’t want the idea to even occur to him. 

You loosen your grip but say, “Don’t leave.” 

Marc’s jaw tightens, “Sorry about that.” 

“S’ok. Just don’t go.” 

“Not going anywhere tonight, honey.” 

You nod, nuzzling your nose against his cheek when Marc takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your fingers and wrist, your forearm, the crease of your elbow. 

“Stop that,” you grouse, a giggle at the tip of your tongue.

“I’m obsessed with you. I can’t.” 

You do laugh then, and he rolls you onto your side. He slips free from you and you feel the emptiness immediately, but then Marc is kissing you again, insistent and demanding, and it's forgotten. His fingers dance up the column of your spine, tracing the delicate vertebrae of bone with soft fingers. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whispers. It's so rare to see him without that stoic facade, the burned in self-hatred, that your heart gives a painful thump. 

You kiss his sweaty brow and think to remind him of something. “You’re so good, Marc. You deserve good things. You deserve kindness.” 

He doesn’t answer and you know he’s fighting down that automatic response, so ingrained into him it was almost a part of his DNA. 

“I deserve it,” he murmurs eventually and you figure it's as close as you’ll get to agreement. 

Marc lets you hold him, and he doesn’t try to move once. 

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight

[blue-sadie]

Reflections

Imagine:

Being the moon systems girlfriend and during one of your 'sessions' with marc he tells you to stare into the mirror and if you looked away he'd stop and only carry on when you stare at yourself and beg him to fuck you, and as your about to cum he whispers this into your ear.

"That's it baby show them how your mine how I'm the only one that could make you feel this way, stare at them as i fuck you and cum for me baby"

#marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marvel x reader smut #marvel imagine #marvel smut imagine #moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight imagine #moon knight smut imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight x reader smut #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector smut imagine #marc spector x reader smut #moon system x reader smut #moon system x reader #moon system imagine