Edit: Bro, @cherryjennnn, tumblr anonymized your ask đ
Privilege of Power
Moon Knight masterlist
Marc Spector x fem!reader
Cw/triggers: Marc fucking reader in his suit, he's got so much stamina, smut, nsfw, p in v, oral (fem receiving), Marc is a teasing dick (affectionate^^), not beta read, potential typos
Fic 2/8 from -> here <-
A/n: Watching the show was a mistake the second I saw Marc, please take him away from me, I feel like a blood eel whenever I see him and LATCH ONNNN
You and Marc just got back from a mission, of course given his protectiveness, he always had you covered behind his back while he was dishing out the damage wearing his suit.
âYou know you should take me with you on missions more often.â
Marc gave you a teasing look. âWhy? You like seeing me working my ass off?â
He dropped his gear and deliberately began pulling his shirt off while walking towards the bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his back and shoulder blades muscles flexing as he moves.
You couldnât tear your eyes off him as you watched him disappear, then mused playfully. âNo but seeing you in the suit is pretty hot.â
You could hear the water running, then splashes, some rustling before shortly after, Marc returned, his hair damp and handsomely disheveled with a few droplets glistening on his bare chest.
You stared, but he caught you. âHot, hm?â He grinned, making his way over to you and pulled you closer.
âHow hot?â He spoke in that lower tone that told you everything about how he would like your answer to be.
âHmmm, I donât know⊠fuckable?â
He raised an eyebrow and gave a subtle smirk. âYeah? Fuckable? Want me to fuck you in the suit, babygirl?â
This caught you off guard. âI meanâŠ. yes?â You grinned now.
Marc grinned back. âAlright, go to the bedroom and wait for me.â
You excitedly did what he said and walked away to get ready.
Soon enough Marc had you on your back, his hands forced your legs open while he slowly got on his knees, his bright white eyes watched you while he leaned in towards your pussy, the bottom half of his mask was pulled away only revealing his mouth and a peek of his nose.
He dragged the tip of his tongue through your wet folds and prodded your hole with teasing licks that had you biting down on your lower lip.
âFuck, fuck, fuck!â You gripped the sheets hard, slightly bucking your hips up into him from the overwhelming sensation.
He caught your gaze and gave one last lick. âPoor thing, already too much?â One of his hands came up to play with your hole teasingly. âIâm far from done sweetheart.â His fingers, now slightly bigger due to the suits wrapping, pushed into your pussy with ease thanks to your wetness, stretching you open wider than usual.
âThe hero put a lot of effort into keeping his girl safe and now he wants to enjoy himself greatly as a reward.â
His fingers curled, hitting you in a way that made your breath hitch, increasing the pace gradually until your head fell back against the pillow.
âWant my cock baby?â He asked teasingly.
You nod your head, gasping again when he spread his fingers inside you.
Marc clicked his tongue. âUse your mouth, honey.â He demanded softly.
He thrusts his fingers slowly now, knowing this will turn you into mush. âYes!â You managed to choke out.
âYeah you do, hmm? Want Moon Knightâs cock?â
âYes I want itâ I need it!â
He spread his fingers once more, which caused your hips bucking up and you biting your lip.
âYouâre such a good girl, yeahhh, câmon squeeze my fingers baby. Cum if you want my cock!â He moved them faster, keeping them a bit spread to hit it good.
You tensed up, trying your best not to scream in pleasure, but failed miserably as a moan came straight out of you the moment your orgasm hit, coating his wrapped fingers in your juices.
Marc pulled them out, the mask concealing his face again and straightened up and grabbed your ankles to pull you into him. The suit part that covered his crotch disappeared leaving only his hard cock visible.
âHope youâre ready to cum again. And again.â His bright eyes watched you while he positioned himself and immediately thrusts inside with a shaky groan at how easily he slipped into you thanks to your first orgasm.
You gasped due to overstimulation but your generous wetness quickly made up for it as he started thrusting.
Marc grabbed your legs, spreading them wider so he could give you every inch as deep as possible.
âMy cock still stretches you better than my fingers ever could, hm?â
Your back arched at that.
He noticed and chuckled. âYeah your body agrees.â He said teasingly, giving slower thrusts to rile you up more.
Normally with how long you two kept doing it he would already show signs of his orgasm approaching, but now it doesnât seem like heâs breaking a sweat.
You on the other hand felt that familiar build up again, with every smack of his hips against yours.
âMarc are you close?â
Marc leaned over and placed one hand beside your head. âNo, are you?â He asked with a small tilt of his head.
He wasnât kidding, which doesnât surprise you, because when it comes to sex this man is never kidding.
He wasnât even breathing heavy, like heâs far away from orgasm.
Marc hit that spot that made you moan and he knew you were. If not from your desperation, then from the way your cunt is squeezing his cock.
He sped up just so you could reach your peak again, and this time it hit you hard.
Marc let out a sudden hiss when your pussy had his dick in chokehold and gushed on it.
âFuck, baby.â He breathed, but he still didnât cum, although now, he was getting there.
âOne more and Iâll give it to you.â Marc rasped, thrusting faster despite your second orgasm.
You, completely overstimulated, despite exhaustion, felt another one coming rapidly.
You gripped his wrist firmly. âMarc- Iâm gonna cum again.â
He groaned, determined to get you and himself off.
âIâm so close honey, so close.â
âYeah me too.â
Marc had no rhythm now, his thrust sloppy and heavy.
You came again and he came at the same time as you. He held himself over you for a moment before the suit disappeared and he rolled off onto his back.
You two just laid there to catch your breath, and once you did, you let out a small laugh.
âGoddamn what is wrong with you.â You looked over, seeing him with a very proud smile.
âNothing.â He said, still having that shit eating grin.
After a moment of silence, he scoots a little closer to you. âSo what do you say, wanna do it again sometime?â
hihi! wanted to send a moon knight request!! dunno if this has been done but was just t h i n k i n g of the scene where steven kisses layla (reader in this case) but this time marc actually does something about it to remind them of who they married >:3 so many directions this could go in!!! could be dark or not!!!
(ur writing is awesome by the way ily)
Ooohhh your permission in making it dark will be effectively used! >:D
Double deal
Moon Knight masterlist
Marc Spector/Steven Grant x fem!reader
Cw/triggers: Takes place at the part where they were in the middle of the desert at night, soft dom!Steven, dom!Marc, smut, NSFW, p in v, possessive!Marc and Steven, couldn't help myself with making it a liiittle biiiit dark :)
Fic 1/8 from -> here <-
A/n: Donât get fooled by the start, sugary fluff part ends pretty soon to get a little darker <3
Steven kissed you back eagerly and it seemed like he was holding back to intensify the kiss even more.
So you're not gonna share or what?
Steven awkwardly pulled back and gazed up. âBut she kissed me first.â
The conversation made you raise an eyebrow and grin. âMarc getting jealous again?â
No
âYeah he is.â
Shut up
Steven let out a little snort. âHe can't help himself.â
âI swear, one day you two will have a mental boxing match.â I giggled.
Steven huffed out a little breath. âSometimes we do, right mate?â He gazed up once more, as if asking Marc directly.
Yeah. I hope you donât mind harder punches for kissing her.
âOoh- Aaandd, Marcâs pissed.â Steven chuckled, putting his hands on his hips.
You rolled your eyes and nudged his shoulder with a smile. âYou two are one, so if anything, I belong to both of you.â
Stevenâs gaze immediately snapped onto yours. âReally? You mean that?â His eyes focused on only yours with an intensity that spoke volumes about how he felt.
You assured him. âYes, you two only.â
Steven gazed up again. âSatisfied?â
Now thatâs better. Wanna show her buddy?
Steven nodded. âYeah, letâs show her.â
You watched as Steven took one step closer to you. âShow me what?â
Steven grabbed your waist, âThat youâre ours. Now up you go.â He helped you onto the hood of the vehicle, already working on undressing your lower half.
âHey wait, what if someone sees us, what ifââ His hand came up to shush you with a finger on your lips.
He shrugged. âThen theyâll get a show.â
Steven was gone, itâs Marc now.
âShit- you canât be seriousâ here?!â
Marc leaned in towards you. âDead. Fucking. Serious.â He whispered menacingly.
Marc suddenly kissed you, pulling you against his body, his cock hardened fast as he moved his hips against you.
He quickly pulled his pants and boxers down far enough to grab his pre cum weeping dick and aligned himself with you, giving teasingly slow thrusts to only let the tip spread you open.
âRelax love, itâs just us out here.â Itâs Steven again, who now thrusts into you.
You gripped his wrist, biting your lip as he bottomed out.
âSurprised?â Steven asks, pulling back just to thrust harder into you.
âAbout w-what?â You gasped.
Steven grinned. âAbout how fast we made up our mind.â
âI thought Marc was pissed?â
Steven slowed his thrusts, âWell, yeah, until you made that deal. That you belong to us.â
âNow heâs not pissed anymore?â
He thrusts slowly, âQuite the opposite, love. And me too.â Steven teased, kissing you softly.
One of his hands moved down to squeeze your thigh possessively, the other slowly moved up to your throat, not gripping harsh, but with enough strength to show you whoâs boss.
âYouâre not complaining, are you honey?â
Marc again.
His thrust became faster, his hand on your thigh squeezed again.
âYou love it that you belong to us, huh?â
âYes.â
Marc smiled with satisfaction. âFeels good, hm?â
âYe-eess!â You moaned as another forceful thrust makes your toes curl.
âFuck yeah I can feel it!â Marc groaned, getting sloppier now.
The hood under you was a mess, their pre cum and your juices. You knew he was close the moment you felt him twitch, his and your breathing got heavier and your pussy squeezed his cock from your imminent orgasm.
âFuckâ Iâm- Iâm gonna cum!â You announced.
Marc gently squeezed your throat. âThen make us happy and cum.â
As if on cue, you couldnât hold back any longer and it hit you like an ice cold breeze, gushing all over his dick.
âYeah, thatâs it!â Marc chuckled, unloading himself inside you just seconds after you.
His hand from your throat came down to steady himself on the hood with a thud.
âShitâŠâ Marc panted, looking down at the mess they made.
After a moment of coming down from the height of your and their orgasm Marc lifted you off the hood and back on the ground.
Now itâs Steven again.
âThat was one bloody hell of a ride, eh?â
You looked at him, exhausted. âYeah it was.â
Steven smiled. âAlright, now that weâve shown you, letâs get moving again.â
He lead you back into the car where you slumped back to catch your breath.
Warnings: 18+ smut, sort of sub!Steven, oral male!receiving, just Steven being a hot mess
Summary: Steven blurts out so much information at once that your mind is clouded enough to think straight
Words: 3.2 k
Notes: Thanks again for all your support! Your comments make so so so so happy. I hope you like this one, we are getting into it! Comments or suggestions are always welcome <3
Previous chapter
gif credit
You sat on the sofa with damp hair.
Now, after what feels like more than fifteen minutes, your hair is already dry and Steven hasnât said a word yet. Every time he opens his mouth he shuts it a second later, frustrated. You try to remain patient but the worry is winning you over.
Your body is slowly tensing as you watch him shift in his position, adjust his clothes and hold his hands on his stomach over and over again. He keeps glancing at your doorway almost like he had lost the courage and was ready to physically escape this conversation any minute.
Soon you realize heâs not just nervous about what he has to say, he's anxious.
You want to break the bubble heâs in, kiss his cheek and massage the tension away but you donât want him to feel pressured or rushed. You want to respect his own time to open up.
Yet curiosity is eating you alive. What could he have to say to be in this state? That he doesnât even know how to start? Is he married? Is he a fugitive? Is he in danger? Is he scaping someone or something? In which case, would he be the good guy or the bad guy?
Even when the image of your cute neighbor purposely hurting someone seems completely ridiculous to you, it takes you by surprise the thought that comes next.
Would that make any difference to you and how you feel about him?
It shocks you that, even now, youâre just⊠intrigued, not afraid. Whatever is tormenting him you want to help, not run away.
The acknowledgment illuminates feelings youâre not ready to name.
You intervene when his breathing quickens, heâs getting more and more disturbed with every passing second.
âI wish I could follow wherever you go when you get lost in your mindâ you whisper, moving the soft curls away from his face, catching the attention of his eyes.
Steven immediately stops the whirlpool heâs in, melting at your touch. The emotion produced by your words echoes inside him, in hearts still fighting not to let you in completely.
âIâm looking a bit dodgy, arenât I?â He asks, concerned.
âJust a little bit,â you joke with a soft smile.
He leans in to steal a kiss from your lips. Then he inhales and, finally, speaks.
He starts with the history of Egyptian Gods, he tells you about The Ennead, about Taweret, Ammit and Konshu, the God of the Moon. How he intervenes in human lives, protecting the travelers of the night through his avatar.
And you are completely lost, trying to follow the completely unexpected path his rapid babble has taken through ancient names and beliefs untilâ
Until Steven says he was an avatar himself for a brief period of time.
He tells you about the things that happened in Egypt, about why he had to go so urgently. How he went inside the pyramids and discovered the tomb of Alexander the Great. How even when he experienced things he couldnât ever imagine existed he was relieved he wasnât Konshuâs avatar anymore.
You are trying to make sense of the things heâs saying but itâs too much information to take all at once. Heâs jumping from one thing to another. Just a few minutes ago you werenât even sure you believed in god, much less in the plural sense of the word.
Heâs talking about things your brain is struggling to accept.
But you see truth in his eyes, in the way heâs telling you all this. He believes what heâs saying.
Making you, somehow, believe it too.
So when he meets your eyes, expectantly, all you can say is:
"I don't understandâI don't understand most of it⊠or any of it. But I believe you."
Your words seem to reassure him because just when he hears them he tells you about Marc.
Marc.
Marc and their little brother.
He talks about the accident. About Marc being Konshuâs avatar. About how during all these years he didnât even know about Marc until just a few months ago.
âI was afraid, I couldnât tell the difference between my waking life and my dreams. I would go to sleep, then have these violent nightmares, then wake up in the middle of my life without remembering how did I get there,â he keeps blurting out, a little bit calmer this time, with your interlaced with his. âAndâand Konshu terrified me the first few times he appeared in front of me, searching for Marc. Seeing him I thought I had lost my mindâ.
He explains to you how he feels him, how Marc lives in the silences between his thoughts. How he knows heâs there even when heâs not speaking to him.
And how Marc didnât want Steven to tell you all of this.
âMarc was constantly reminding me that I shouldnât get too attached to you, that I shouldnât let my hopes up because you didnât know about Konshu, about what had really happened in Egypt and about him, about his existence. So every time I would try to tell you he would talk me out of it saying that you might not be ready yet. That itâthat it might scare you off. And I tried making him understand that you wouldnât but he just repeated that I would lose you over and over and it started to get into my head. Iâm so sorry I didnât tell you sooner but I didnât know how either. The whole thing sounds taken out of a bloody weird-magical-ancient-creepy Disney story, doesnât it?â
It kind of did.
You get that part. But why did he start the conversation with all The Moon God thing? It would have been easier to explain and follow if he had started telling you about Marc first. Was he âor were theyâ more concerned about your reaction to Marcâs existence than about them being some sort of godâs incarnation? Those times you've seen Steven lose himself in thought was he actually talking to Marc? Was Marc the one in the elevator and was he earlier in the bathroom when you felt Stevenâs demeanor change? Had he been around more than those two times and you didn't realize it?
âIs he with us now? Listening to the conversation?â You hear yourself ask out loud.
You have so many questions and all of them are forming inside your head at the same time.
âNo, no⊠He left when I started talking because he didnât want me to.â
Has he been forced to spend time with you? Is that the reason he didn't want you to know about him? Because you might want to meet him? Or maybe it's that Marc doesn't trust you? Steven said he had taken care of him since they were little. Maybe he didnât approve of you?
âWas he right?â he asks with a softer voice and a harder grip on your hand.
The vulnerability behind his eyes blanks your mind for a moment.
âWhat? Sorry, was he right about what?â
âAbout me losing you.â
Heâs looking at you as if he is waiting to listen to a death sentence and you know him enough to see he really believes that you are going to reject him, that you are going to run away. A part of your heart breaks with the idea of them believing they have to hide themselves to be loved. You want to hurt whoever has hurt them before. And although right now your head is not working well with all the information you just received, knowing that you need to process it all, you are sure that both now and tomorrow, a week or a month later your heart will feel the same way for him.
âWhy would you? You are still you.â
A thousand different emotions and thoughts pass through his face, but instead of trying to vocalize any of them, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you in a way he has never done before.
Strong, passionate, as in a form of recognition: you may feel for me the same as I feel for you.
And although the lack of air is clouding your head more than already is, you kiss him back with the same intensity. Telling him without words: I do, I do, I do.
All of your senses are soon overtaken by him. And even when the last functioning part of your brain is telling you that you probably shouldn't be doing this right now as soon as heâs moaning in your mouth your reasoning is walking out of the room, leaving you alone with Steven and his lips on your skin, and his hands on your hips pushing you against him, and the heat of his body warming yours, and the smell of his essence making you want to be closer and closer, and the feel of him already hard under you.
âLove, youâll have to guide me through this,â his mouth whispers against your ear before devoting itself to spread eager kisses throughout your neck. Youâre not sure if the goosebumps that take over you are induced by his lips or his words. Or by the low hum he gives you when you throw your head back to give him more space, unable to resist him. Or by how his hands keep holding your hips, slowly grinding you into him. Probably all of them.
But when he reaches your clavicle you hold his face between your hands to stop him. As much as you want to take off his clothes and just jump into him you want to be loving and gentle, just like heâs with you. You don't have to go all the way in tonight, you can show him other things.
âWeâll take it slow. You can change your mind any time, ok?â
You wait till he nods in understanding to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following the new path of exposed skin with a racing heart and shaky fingers. You never thought skin could be attractive, but his is. Itâs inviting even, all velvet soft and golden dim glow under the faint light of your bedroom.
When you finally reach the last button, you take a moment to run your palm from his lower stomach all the way up to his cheek at an unhurried, steady pace. Your fingers tingle as you get a better feel of his smooth skin and strong muscles and your poor heart contracts hearing how his breathing is altered just by the light touch of your hand.
âYou are gorgeous, in every way,â you canât help saying, meeting his eyes when he huffs in response.
âNow youâll have to prove to me Iâm not dreaming 'cause youâve said things like that in my dreams before.â
So you do.
You prove to both of you this is not a dream by pushing him into the mattress to have more room to leave gentle kisses on his chest, above his hammering heartbeat; tender bites on his shoulder, his ribcage, and his hand when he moves your hair out of your face to have a better look of you; licks that instantly flex his muscles every time you get close to the beginning of his trousers; the mere trace of your lips over his heated skin just to feel him shiver underneath.
And he just takes anything you give him, accepts anything you do to him with shaky breath and devoted eyes.
You back up to sit on his lap again and canât help but run your nails over his smoothly muscled chest while making eye contact, inviting him without pronouncing a word.
In a second he gets up, eager to take off your shirt and turn you around, mirroring your actions and adding up his own.
First, he approaches the exposed skin with his fingertips, almost as if he still wanted to check the reality of the situation, of you under him, half-naked, flushed, happy, and willing.
The soft sighs his touch coaxes out of you must be credible enough because then heâs caressing you with his mouth. Leisurely tracing the curves of your shoulder, your ribcage, and your stomach, stopping at the cup of your bra.
âCan I take it off you?â
His breathless voice never so dark before, clouds your mind and exposes you.
âYou can do anything you want to me, Steven.â
His shocked gasp it's the last thing you get before you feel him cupping one breast and sucking the other. Your stomach clenches as his hot tongue traces your nipple and he moans against you, delighted by the way youâre arching under his touch.
His eyes donât leave your face, memorizing every single one of your reactions, as he instinctively develops a pattern of softly biting the tip just to soothe it with tender licks and soft kisses afterward. Itâs glorious. But the sensations are too strong to remain still anymore, you need to touch him too.
You take advantage of the fact that his mouth is making its way to your other breast, leaving small kisses on your sternum, to hold his face and guide him to your mouth and kiss him fervently, confessing to him things you donât dare yet to say in words. And he answers to all of them, with every vehement move of his tongue against yours.
You slip one finger inside the edge of his trousers, tracing the skin under the fabric. Involuntarily, his hips thrust into you at the motion.
âCan I take them off?â You ask over his mouth.
He backs up to look at you, giving you one of those soft loving smiles you are always craving so much.
âYou can also do anything you want to me, love.â
Love, love, love.
He doesnât have any idea the power he holds on you every time he calls you love.
A little bit more desperate than you would like to recognize and faster than you thought possible, you get rid of his pants. And now youâre attacking him all the way up to his thighs, caressing his skin until heâs breathing ragged and harder than ever under his boxers.
His neglected erection getting all of your attention now, unable to even try avoid it anymore.
You ignore the primal impulse to beg him let you touch him, waiting to move only after you get his confirmation.
âPlease.â Itâs all he says.
You slowly palm him through his underwear, savoring the feel of him.
âPlease,â he whimpers once more and all pleasantries are pushed aside as your hand finds its way to hot naked flesh.
Dear god.
Heâs thick, silky, and perfect. And so ready for you.
He throbs under your touch as you get him out of his underwear. Once it's free you canât help but stop for a moment to take him in. How can he be so pretty? Everywhere, every part of him, heâs gorgeous. Your heart hammering faster than ever under your chest and your mouth watering just by looking at him.
You move tentatively one finger over his tip, brushing the precum all over his length. Slowly, you start adding fingers, tracing his figure making him get used to your touch. And stars, the way he reacts to your caresses is everything.
Seeing him this wrecked, this hot and desperate just by your hand is making you so wet. You wrap your whole palm around him to jerk him off with harder, but longer motions watching the muscles under his slight stomach flex.
âPlease, more I justâPlease,â he begs again, his raspy tone seeping deep inside you, adding up to the warmth on your lower belly. He whimpers, watching in awe as he thrusts himself rock-hard and pulsating into your hand, unable to hold still any longer.
Youâre not trying to tease him, youâre just figuring out what he wants. Does he want it faster? Does he want your mouth?
You lean in to kiss his hipbone and thenâ
At the first touch of your tongue, Steven is overwhelmed with the need to confess he loves you, the urge to cry, and the fear he actually might pass out. The contact is enough to send all the blood in his body rushing to his dick making him lose all sense of gravity. As if it wasn't enough that every one of his senses âoverflowing with the feel of youâ had him already dizzy now your mouth is making him feel in ways he didnât even think were possible to feel.
So he raises his head to at least try to express one of all the things he's feeling, but then he sees you taking him all the way into your mouth, feeling you moaning against him, and all he can do is choke at a sight he knows it will haunt him in every dream and fantasy from now on until the day he dies.
Your body fills with fire at the taste of him and you canât help but take as much as of him as you can into your mouth. Your now unoccupied palm finds its way down to massage his balls, desperate to feel him.
And god, his broken panting must be the sexiest thing youâve ever heard.
âWaâwait! Stop. Please, wait,â he calls and you instantly stop taking him out of your mouth. âSorry, love. I justâI was about to come in your mouth and Iââ
âI want you to come in my mouth, baby. Donât you?â
The ragged cry he gives you as an answer as he throws his head back against the mattress is enough for you to take him back into your mouth again.
His body is now covered in a thin sheen of sweat and impossibly rigid, you notice heâs still holding back. That won't do it.
You take him as far as your throat lets you and run your nails from his lower tummy to the very base of his cock. His stomach flexes under your touch and then heâs cumming, throbbing inside your mouth just like you wanted him to.
You drain him until heâs just a beautiful trembling mess that repeats your name in choked whispers without stopping.
You pull up to take a better look at his stunning body completely relaxed on your bed, but then the whole picture, the way his eyes meet yours with more love and devotion than ever feels so domestic and intimate, more than everything youâve done today, has a full-force impact into your heart.
You lower your head again to kiss his hipbone, humming happily thinking about how much you enjoyed this even if you didnât come yourself. Satisfied with how close you feel to him right now.
You are kissing his lower stomach when his fingers brush your hair away from your face.
âIs my turn now, isnât it love?â he asks, still panting underneath you.
Wait, what?
âââââââââââââââ
Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list!
Warnings: 18+ smut, just some making out (the good stuff is coming, so excited for you to read the next chapter oh my gosh)
Summary: Constantly kissing your cute neighbor Steven doesn't make him any less mysterious.
Words: 2.3 k
Notes: Thanks for all of your support! I get very happy every time I read your reactions to the fics, makes me want to write more and more! So, comments or suggestions are always welcome <3
Previous chapter | Next chapter
gif credit
So⊠you might be as into your cute neighbor Steven as heâs into Ancient Egypt. Maybe even more.
As you get ready for tonight's first formal date, you try not to think about all the other casual friendly dates you've had already. Because just the recall of it itâs giving your heart palpitations.
But even as you try to focus on something else, you canât help looking back to that first bookshop date. Where you had to whisper close to each other due the book club meeting that was taking place in the store. Where you could smell his earthy cologne and fresh clean clothes blending with the dry scent of paper.
Your heart races just by remembering the way Steven kept looking at you, almost like he couldn't believe you were right there next to him. How he tried to hide his nervousness by pretending to be reading book titles every time you caught him staring at you.
Or that other date, a few bookshops after, the one in which you were in front of a massive table displaying bestsellers with discount stickers and one of them caught your attention.
It was a poorly designed erotica book cover featuring two impossible muscular werewolves and what seemed to be a half-naked mermaid, behind them a very obviously suggestive bed on fire.
This genre should have an annual cover contest, you thought running a finger over the cover.
The movement must have caught his attention.
âDo y-you like lovey-dovey literature?â he asked in a soft almost chocked voice, catching you off guard.
Lovey-dovey. Is even possible to be that cute? The butterflies made you giggle against your will.
Before you could reply he affirmed: âYour laugh must be the prettiest sound in the world.â His voice firmer that second time.
You were the one left breathless after that.
But even if you try not to think about it, there are little things scattered all around your flat that remind you of him. Like that street artistâs little canvas you saw once on display on your way back home after having coffee together, he bought it for you a few days later because you told him it evoked a landscape you enjoyed on a happy vacation as a kid. The Introduction to Mythology book that he lent you, asking you to let him know whenever you get to the moon gods part. The hippo stuffed animal called Taweret he brought you from the museum, even when he doesnât work there anymore. Or the pyramid of Giza souvenir placed in a special spot on your bookshelf, from that morning he came to you apologizing for the jilted date, briefly explaining to you he went urgently to Egypt but without giving too much away about why he had to.
That reminds you that even when heâs sweet, open, and thoughtful, thereâs still some air of mystery around him. You have the feeling that there are some significant information blanks you donât yet get to fill. And you always have that fact at forefront of your mind until you see him and he says something incredibly distracting and sweet and all you can focus on is controlling your reactions to what he does and what he says.
Exactly what happened when he asked you out a few days ago.
âIâve beenâIâve been meaning to ask you this for a while nowâ, he mentioned one morning when you ran into each other in the hallway. âThereâs a new vegan restaurant in the suburbs thatâs getting quite good reviews, you know? And I thought we could get a cab andâwhat I mean to ask you is that I would⊠I would like to take you out forâfor dinner.â
âSure, sounds goodâ you answered with a smile. You didnât give it much thought, youâve been going out visiting museums, bookshops, and cafes for weeks now.
But that wasnât it enough for him. He wanted to make it clear.
âIâmâIâm asking you out. Iâm asking you out on a date. A date-date. If⊠if you are interested, of course. If youâre not t-thatâs alright.â
Oh.
You weren't expecting such a straightforward Steven so early in the morning. It short-circuited your brain for a second.
âI am.â
âYeah?â He returned softly like he wasnât expecting you to say yes. His growing radiant smile debilitating in an addictive way.
It filled you up with the urge to make him happy just to get to see him smiling that same way over and over again.
Gentle knocks on your door interrupt your thoughts. An adrenaline rush spreads over your body as you open it.
âHey, neighbor.â
Heâs dressed all black and handsome.
âBloody hell, you look astonishingly peââ. He spouts as soon as he sees you, but then he seems to listen a voice in his head telling him to back up a little. âYou look beautiful,â he corrects a second later with sincere eyes.
And everythingâs perfect, all giggles, blushes, stolen glances, and almost-touching hands⊠that is, until you get to the new restaurant and thereâs a 2-hour waiting list to get a table.
âNo!,â he pleads heartbroken at the hostess. âReally?â
Once youâre outside you take a look around, there are no more restaurants in plain sight. Just a few remaining open fast-food places and a nearby park. You turn around to find a sad-puppy eyes Steven looking at you.
âIâm so sorry!âIâm so sorry I didnât check out first! I just blew off our date, didnât I? Bloody idiot I am. How could I not cheââ
âHey Steven, itâs ok. We can find something⊠maybe some burgers?â
âBurgers? But I wanted it to be special for you.â
He wanted this date to be special for you. He says it so casually, yet the words go straight to your heart.
You canât help but be as upfront with your emotions as he is.
âItâs special as long as Iâm with you.â You concede, holding his stare long enough to see his cheeks get a light pink glow. The radiant smile appears a few seconds after.
âLetâs find some burgers,â he says daring to softly hold your hand for the first time.
Well, you donât find burgers but you do find vegan pizza. And now youâre eating it at the park because the pizzeria was about to close when you got there and heâs still holding your hand and now youâve felt his touch you crave for more. Youâre dying to be closer, to rest your head on his shoulder, to caress his curls away from his face, to lean in and brush his fingers against his tanned skin.
Yet you hold back because everything feels perfect just as it is and youâre scared to ruin it.
Until he inclines, examining your eyes.
âHas anyone told you that your eyes sparkle in the moonlight?â
Heâs closer than he's ever been, your pulse starts racing.
Why does he have to smell so good? So right?
On purpose, your lips brush his ear as you whisper to him, desperate to feel him any way you can. âThat's the fourth time youâve complimented me today.â
Thatâs it for him. Shivers running down his spine, light-headed, and eyes closed, Steven angles his face, his lips almost coming against yours.
âCan I kiss you?â
Your lips part, the answer stuck somewhere in your throat.
And your heart âyour poor heartâ lost it at the total surrender in his voice. At the unfiltered need you hear.
âPlease?â he asks again, softer this time.
Unable to stop yourself and before you could even process it your lips are on his. The absence of an answer makes him gasp in your mouth. The sound seeping deep, deep inside of you.
At first, his kiss is soft, slow, taking his time exploring you. But then his body is coming against yours, seeking anything youâd give him.
And you think you might be dreaming again because youâve been wanting him for months now and the way his hands are tenderly holding you as close as you let him, the way his warmth is spreading over your skin everywhere youâre touching, god, the noises heâs making, itâs all too good to be true.
So you take both of you back to soft. Sweet. Light. And then you step back a bit to get some air into your lungs.
âThat was.. that was lovely. Perfect. You are perfectâ he says before chasing your lips one more time, as drunk on your touch as youâre on his, barely giving you any time to breathe.
You giggle on his lips, this is real. And heâs giggling too, happy. Kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips again.
âI would kiss you forever if youâd let me, love.â He breaths as you trail your fingers through his hair and then around his neck until they came down to rest on his strong chest. He melts under your touch, still panting.
And he does.
Heâs kissing you all the time.
Every date youâve had after the date itâs been filled with an ever-increasing number of compliments, kisses, and soft touches that always leave you breathless and yearning. Every time you share more of your time with him, to the point heâs quickly becoming a part of the little daily domestic things like when he crosses the hall to eat breakfast with you or when youâre cooking dinner together or, later, when youâre washing the dishes laughing over something silly either of you just said.
Like now that he has offered to wash your hair after youâre done bleaching a little stripe, just for the pleasure of doing so intimate yet simple.
You look at him through the mirror. He looks very focused on the task heâs doing. Almost like helping you wash your hair was something very important for him and doesnât want to mess it up.
âAm I doing it all right, love?â, he asks smiling hesitantly.
He puts so much care and love into any little thing he does that you canât even think he could do anything wrong at all.
âMore than all right,â you smile back at him through the mirror. His smile grows and you melt into your seat.
Once your hair is completely wet, he starts applying the shampoo. And oh, his hands are so, so soothing, so comforting. He is touching you like you were something very precious and delicate that he could easily break at the slightest carelessness.
You canât help but hum in pleasure at the way the gentle press of his fingers feels against your scalp.
âI knowâ he whispers, out of breath.
You donât even realize you had closed your eyes until he abruptly stops.
When you open them he is staring at you through the mirror. But thereâs something different. He holds your stare for a second and then his gaze fall into his hands in your head, nearly lost.
His eyes that shined like a clear sunny sky just moments ago, now give the impression thereâs a storm forming inside them.
You donât know why but the change makes your heart race.
âAre you ok?â you ask.
His eyes make contact with yours across the mirror once more. It seems like he has a million different answers to give you. But then he just nods slowly, returning to the massage of your scalp a second later.
You think you are imagining it, but there is certain vehemence in the way he is touching you now, you donât know what you would call it but it carries less indecisiveness and more eagerness. Thereâs even a little frown that you donât think have seen in him before. He almost looks in pain. And even when your hair is more than clean by now, he doesnât stop.
âSteven?â you ask, placing your hand on one of his.
That seems to break the bubble he was in. His hands leave your scalp, you look at him in the mirror but he refuses to make eye contact.
He gives a step back, his hands full of foam and little white bubbles. You stop for a moment at the thought that even his posture seems to be somehow different. But you get distracted by the way he is pushing his head down into your neck, his sigh sending goosebumps all over your skin.
After a second he places a soft kiss between your shoulder and your neck.
And for some reason âmaybe because of the brief touch of his tongue over your skin that feels like he was savoring it for the first timeâ the kiss feels unlike any other kiss youâve shared with him till now.
âI'll be right back,â he mutters leaving the bathroom.
When he comes back, a few moments later, itâs like nothing happened. He excuses himself by saying he needed a glass of water but you know, you know thereâs more than that. You just donât have any idea what could it be.
He continues with the task ahead in silence, meditative. Just once your hair is wrapped in a towel he speaks again.
âHave youâHave you had time to read the book I lent you, love?â
The question catches you off guard.
âUh⊠I'm still not in the part you want, why?â
He thinks something and then silently nods to himself, gaining determination.
âThere are some things you need to know.â
âââââââââââââââ
Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list!
Warnings: 18+ soft smut, just some making out (for now hehe, the whole I wanna be yours series will be NSFW 18+ so beware)
Summary: Your new cute and sweet neighbor Steven has you⊠intrigued.
Words: 1.3k
Notes: At the end of the chapter âŽ
Next chapter
There are three people you know in the building. Two of them are friends with you, kind of. The first you met was your landlord whose flat is precisely underneath yours and he has complained already twice about how much noise your footsteps make in the afternoon, twice in the whole month you have rented it to him. So definitely not a friend. Your actual friend is the old lady who lives on the same floor, at the beginning of the hall, Miss Claire. The same day you were moving in she knocked on your door with a fruit basket as a welcome gift. You returned the gesture with an apple crumble. Since then she has shared her wisdom about the cheapest markets nearby, guidance on the fastest ways to get to your new job, book recommendations, and crochet tips over a warm and homey tea date at her place.
And there is Steven. Steven with a v, he had said. Your cute neighbor with messy hair, baggy clothes, and a gentle smile, whose door is in front of yours.
He was nice the first time he saw you, making time to introduce himself and having small talk even when he was running late for work. There you learned he worked in the gift shop at the London museum, that he was late because he had a sleep-walking problem and that he fought it by trying to stay awake but had slept at the last minute, that he was very into Ancient Egypt and spent a great part of his time studying the culture, that he had a goldfish named Gus and even offered to give you a tour around the best libraries and book shops around the neighborhood when you told him you worked as a translator and book editor. All of that in a cute rapid babble that got you smiling while he walked backwards through the hall to the elevator. Laters gators, he had screamed waving his hand before the doors closed in front of him.
That was the very best first impression of all the people you had met in London. The nicest and sweetest one. You were definitely interested on get to know him better.
But, of course, you werenât in a place to call him a friend yet. More of an occasionally friendly-like person. Because a few days later, when you bumped into him in the elevator, it took you a moment to recognize him. But when you finally greeted him he just stared at you for a few seconds, nodded, and stormed out as soon as the doors opened.
Thatâs why you were even more intrigued by him a few days later when he showed up at your door.
âI came to honor my word, you know. The book shops I told you about last time we saw each other? Remember? I thought we could set a date. Since Iâm a regular they often give me discounts so maybe if they see us together theyâll give you discounts too. Or I could just buy them for you. And I thought maybe I can show you my favorite coffee shop, bloody amazing tea⊠and coffee. I donât know which one you prefer but uhâAll this if you are still interested, of course. Thereâs no problem if youâre not. And if you are not busy because I guess you mightââ.
His rambling makes you giggle, but some of it confuses you. âYeah, I remember, Steven. And I would love to. But thatâs not the last time we saw each other thoâ.
ââŠWhat do you mean?â He asked, puzzled.
âThat time in the elevator at night?â. That got you no reaction. âYou were wearing a dark jacket, with a raised collar and a hat. I greeted you but you didnât seem to remember meâ.
This makes him giggle in return. âHow could I forget about you? You must have confused me with someone elseâ.
And even when you are almost certain that it was him in the elevator you let it pass because you get distracted by the way heâs smiling at you, how good he smells âa mix between a woody floral fragrance and freshly washed clothesâ, how his whole body seems to vibrate with contained energy, and how cheerful his brown eyes look when you both finally set a date.
Heâs not the only one who gets thrilled though. As the day of the date approaches, you get more and more excited. A nervous know forms in your belly and a soft giggle escapes your mouth every time you remember your cute neighbor.
You even bake an apple crumble for him the previous day to share before you two go on your bookshop tour. Since Miss Claire called it an absolute delicacy. Her words.
But then you wait and wait, and wait.
He doesnât show up. Neither the next day nor the day after that. Nor the week after that.
Days and weeks passed and you didn't get any news from him till the point you actually started to get worried about him.
So you were concerned, disappointed⊠and intrigued. Your slippery neighbor frequently coming to your mind. Thinking about the first time you met him in the hall, that time in the elevator when he just stared at you without saying a word, the intensity of his eyes in contrast with the way he looked at you a few days later when he came to you to set a date. All of it running around in your mind.
Until one night you wake up to strong knocks on your door.
And there he is. Steven.
But not the cheerful and energetic Steven you had talked to. No, in front of you was that one you had met in the elevator. The controlled and silent one. Heâs just looking at you, but this time thereâs a fervor in his eyes that leave goosebumps all over your skin.
And when you open your mouth to ask him what is he doing here, what has happened to him all this time heâs kissing you. His hands suddenly on your hips and your lower back, leading you inside your flat, holding you by your naked thighs and pressing you against the closed door.
You try to push away to breathe, to try to think. But now his lips are on your neck, on your collarbone. And you need to hold into something, so your hand finds his way to the curls of his head, his hat falling to the floor in the process. But he doesnât seem to care. Because heâs taking you to your bed. His mouth finding its way back to yours.
He takes a moment to admire you, once he has placed you onto the mattress. You open your mouth for the second time, trying to make any sense of whatâs happening. But he just shakes his head before you say anything, his eyes fixed on the way his hands are lifting up your shirt. Revealing little by little more of your body.
And you donât even feel like asking any more questions as long as he keeps touching you like this. Because now his mouth is making its way over your thigh while his hand caresses your ribcage under your shirt.
And every second he gets closer and closer to where you want him the mostâ
But then, again, almost like a deja-vu, you wake up to gentle knocks on your door.
And there he is, just like you wouldâve summoned him with your steamy dream, your âsort ofâfriendly neighbor Steven with what seems to be a souvenir of the pyramid of Giza in his hands.
âââââââââââââââ
Next chapter
âââââââââââââââ
Notes:
Hi! This fanfic will be NSFW and contain smut so please 18+ readers only. Until the moment, I have planned ten chapters for this fic. This one, the first, starts with the Steven from the first episode. The one who doesnât know about Marc yet, thatâs when he and the reader meet for the first time. Those three or so weeks he spends away comprehends the whole Moon Knight Series timeline, so when he comes back to the reader heâs already gone through all. Heâs been in Egypt, has a good relationship with Marc, and doesnât know yet about Jake. Lastly, even when I love her Iâm going to take a creative license and erase Layla from my fiction world. Not completely, I think she and Marc were married and divorced, and thatâs it. Thereâs not any hate intended, just it would be easier for me to do it this way. This is the way hehe.
And yes, Miss Claire is the friend of the old lady scared of Steven in that elevator scene in episode one.
Thatâs all I wanted to say, thanks for reading <3
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader, Marc Spector x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut but not really, talks about being tied and not pulling out idk
Summary: So... Marc keeps running through your mind
Notes: I'm so so so so sorry this update is coming 3 years too late. I have no excuse. Please let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist, I totally understand <3
Previous chapter
You're constantly reminding yourself you shouldn't overthink this. It's not healthy. It's distracting. And to be honest, it's pointless. Because there's really not much to overthink about.
It's been weeks since Steven confessed everything about Konshu, being an avatar, and⊠Marc. And, to be honest, not much has changed since then. There are moments you can't believe Steven is actually a real person you get to call yours. You've been the happiest you can remember. He's so kind, so smart, and funny. You feel so loved and safe. There's nothing you could change to make things better than they already are. There can't be anything better than this.
And yet, Marc's existence is a recurring thought in some part of your brain that likes to torture you. It doesn't make sense. You've been told things that challenge the reality you grew up believing in. Things you used to read in Mythology books have become part of your world. That's what you should be thinking about. But no. As soon as you have a moment to yourself, endless questions about Marc flood your mind.
Maybe it's because you've seen more glimpses of him. When Steven's expression changes for a second into something more serious and reserved, and you know that the eyes looking back at you are not the same anymore. Or when he dissociates mid conversation as a result of Marc being in there somewhere disagreeing on something. As he usually does. And there was that one time. You're not entirely sure but, you think you might have seen Marc in control before. Well, two times. Once a while ago in the elevator, when you had just moved in. And most recently, when Steven was helping you wash your hair and suddenly he looked different. When he pushed his head down into your neck, kissed it and left the room. It couldn't be him, right? Would that even be possible? Was that what motivated Steven to tell you everything?
And that's the thing. You don't know much about their relationship and you definitely don't know much about Marc. You don't ask, but you're dying to know. Is he always there listening, observing, disapproving? Is he there against his will? Are you now a person he can't escape from? Steven told you Marc didn't want you to know the truth. Why? Does he think your relationship with Steven is just a fling? Or maybe he doesn't trust you? And how is he? How does he feel with all of this? Is there any scenario where you could ever talk to him? Get to know him? You know he takes control of the body but he never sticks around long enough for you to see him. And is wanting to know him even appropriate? What would Steven think of that? At this rate your brain might as well implode just to get a break, god. Gods?
It's a lot.
And then it gets worse.
The first time it happens, you're supposed to be watching a documentary Steven has been excited about for weeks. Supposed to because just about twenty minutes in the TV is already forgotten in the background, just like your sweater is on the floor. All your attention is divided into the open-mouthed kisses following the line of your throat, the hands spreading over your back, and the words whispered against your skin.
"You are so soft. You feel so good, Love. It's like my hands were made to be touching you. All the time."
"Take this off." Is all you can answer, tugging his shirt to make yourself clear. His words only making you more and more desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. He must be too because he doesn't even take the time to unbutton each button individually, instead he pulls his shirt over his head. You don't miss the opportunity to sit on his lap and kiss him hard as soon as you see his face out of the mess of fabric. He freezes and moans your name against your mouth, your eager hands traveling down his torso.
A moment goes by, and you break the kiss, pushing him against the back of the sofa and almost going insane from what you see. Steven is breathing heavy. His eyes move from your mouth to your eyes, only to move back to your mouth again. The way he licks his lips searching for your taste. How hopeless he looks as if any minute spent not kissing you was wasted time. And maybe even more wrecking than all of that, how dorky he looks with his arms over his head stuck on his shirt. This is your dork. Only Steven Grant could make you giggle while you're losing your mind with need.
"We should try this once." You suggest, helping him free his arms.
"I'm yours, Love. I'll listen. You don't have to tie me."
"You can do anything you want to me, too. But, I don't know, don't you like the idea of having total control over me spread out naked in bed?" As soon as they are free, his hands find your hips, gradually moving you against him in search of that delicious friction. He probably doesn't even notice what he's doing. Too caught up in the images your words are creating in his mind. You see it in the way his eyes are fixed on yours, mesmerized, and darkening. "Take as much time as I know you would like to? As slow as you want, as long as you want, and me having no other option but to take it the way you want me to?"
His eyes are completely black by the time you finish your little proposition. But then a shadow of confusion flits across his face so quickly you're not sure whether you imagined it or not.
"I would like that." He answers before you can ask anything about it. His voice hoarse, almost inaudible.
"Yeah? You sure?"
"Yeah, IâLove, I wouldn't even pull out. I would stay inside of you, exactly where I belong, until I'm hard and ready to again, and again, and again. And you'd look so pretty, all blushed and relaxed. I don't know how could I ever stop."
You feel yourself clenching around nothing. You swear this man could make you come just by talking. It's maddening.
"Fuck, I need you. Right now."
He gasps.
"Wait. We need to stop."
Immediately, you push back and try to get up but a hand on your hips and a shake of his head stop you.
"It's Marc. I can feel him reacting to your words."
"What? He's watching us?"
"No. No, he wouldn't. He's not here right now. It's strange. It's like he's hearing you in his dream."
"Oh."
And he's reacting.
"Let me take care of this, yeah? I'll be right back."
Things go back to normal after that. Until Marc's responses stop being subconscious and slowly turn into active little disruptions. Steven is open about it since the beginning; he tells you when Marc's impulses have taken control for a second. If it hadn't been for him, you probably wouldn't have noticed. He tells you when it was Marc's hand that brushed a strand of hair out of your face, or when it was his thumb that caressed your cheek. And while you're not sure how you feel about it, you know Steven is annoyed. He doesn't say it with words, but you read it in his face, increasingly serious and apologetic, each time he's trying to explain a circumstance he doesn't really have control of. A tension building for weeks.
And then it escalates out of control.
"A bloody coward, that's what he is." Steven is frenetic. Moving around your flat in an overflow of energy.
"Honey, calm down. What happened?"
"I told him before. When all of this started, that he should stop hiding himself. It's not his fault how he feels, I know that. But he is responsible about how he acts about it. And what he chose to do? Hide in me. How dare he? You don't even know him, he doesn't even has your permission to touch you and yet he decides to do it anyways. Through me! I gave him ultimatum after ultimatum to stop this but he never listens. He never listens! He's too comfortable being close to you without even having to show his face. Well, damn him. I've blocked him for good now. It's what heâ"
"Wait. You blocked him? You can do that?"
"I didn't know I could. I've never done it. But I also never been so bloody angry at him before. I'm glad. I finally have some control over this." He finally takes a deep breath and makes eye contact with you. He's anxious. "I've been so worried this would be the thing that scared you off."
"Come here. Give me a hug."
He immediately closes the distance and wraps you in his arms. You can hear how fast his heart is beating.
"So we are okay?"
"Of course, Steven. I love you. You know that I love you, right? This is new for both of us, we'll figure it out. And I think he just⊠might be confused? Maybe some part of him is close to the love you feel for me and it's affecting him. Like, I don't know, getting dizzy by a sweet perfume. It'll pass."
He gives you a look as if he disagrees with what you just said, but changes the subject.
"Marc has been giving me a lot of time these past months. It's the one decent thing he's done. He'll probably take that back now."
You donât want to see him less, but you also donât want to fuel his anger towards Marc. So you cling to the only words that make sense now. "We'll figure it out."
Steven is right, as he always is. After your last conversation he disappears for weeks. And while you know he's more than capable of taking care of himself, having the Moon god's power in his hands, you worry anyways. After the routine you had fallen into of seeing each other constantly, spending the night together almost every day, this sudden absence cuts deep. Even when Marc used to take control of the body Steven would find the way of giving you a call, or send you a cute text. Now you are facing absolute silence.
That's why when are back from work and bump into a familiar face in the hallway you almost scream.
"You're back!" You're suddenly out of breath. Your hands itching to pull him closer. What's stopping you?
Then you notice the tension in the shoulders, the clenched fists, the controlled movements. A known stranger.
Marc.
On a second look they couldn't look more different from each other.
"Marc, hi. I'mâ"
âI know who you are. Iâve watched youâ. He tucks you hair behind your ear, making your breath hitch. The tenderly movement in complete contrast to the way he is looking at you, frowning. Then he takes a step back, as if wanting to erase his touch behind a wall. "You make Steven happy."
"He makes me happy too. So much. Um, I've been wanting to introduce myself for a while now and get to knowâ"
"It would be better if you stay away from me. Steven will be back soon." He interrupts, monotone and blunt.
A moment passes. His eyes look sad, almost heartbroken.
âOh. Of course, I didn't mean toâI donât want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.â
With a nod, he takes long strides towards the stairs. If you didnât know better, you would stop him.
But you donât.
âââââââââââââââ
Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list!
One thing that I find the most sad about us possibly not getting a Moon Knight season two is that Oscar REALLY nails his performance as the boys in my opinion. Because to me, he truly becomes three different people in his performances to the point that I genuinely think of you wiped my memory of the show and itâs plot, you showed me separate clips of each other boys, and told me that theyâre from different projects that heâs done, I would have believed you. They practically look different!
In theatre lango the face of an actor is referred to as âthe maskâ because facial expressions are so important to performances and characters. Itâs one of the big things that youâre taught as a beginning actor and can generally make or break the character youâre playing. And I swear Oscar does it SO FUCKING WELL because all three of the moon boys have such different ways their faces sit. Stevenâs expressions are more soft, with his eyes being more wide and fluttering, and his brows not being furrowed so hard even though Steven has a resting worried face. Meanwhile Marcâs eyebrows are always scrunched, his eyes are kept more narrowed and he keeps his vision on things like heâs assessing everything around him 24/7, and Iâm pretty sure heâs always tightening his jaw do his jaw line looks sharper. Which then contrasts Steven where he sort of keeps his loose and so he tends to have his mouth open a little so his jaw looks more softer. And then thereâs Jake. He looks so calm even though heâs canonically ready to fight at the drop of a hat, with his eyes being hooded over, maybe tightening his jaw and keeps his vision focused on something like Marc but keeps a cool sleazy smile like heâs ready for a fight but knows that heâs got it handled when it breaks out. Anticipating yet ready.
LIKE??? I could walk past all three of them on the street and maybe even have a full conversation with them and I would NEVER suspect that they were the same man. Triplets? Maybe. But I would have to see them switch first hand for me to be like âOh thatâs the same man!â
And thatâs what I mourn the most! We will probably never see this amazing performance ever again. Because Oscar poured so much into the boys that they genuinely were three different people and felt like it. And even if Disney+ tried to hook us back in with a season two where they place a new actor, even if Iâm willing to give them a chance and ignore the recasting and they got acting notes verbatim from Oscar himself and they listened, I could never find Marc, Steven, and Jake again because their faces and the mannerisms with their faces are so special that I could never see them on another face other than Oscarâs. And I hate that SO MUCH! Because even if I wanted to suspend my disbelief and try to believe that itâs them, I could never. Youâd just have to start the damn thing over from the start so the actor can truly be free to make the mask for Marc, Steven, and Jake.
Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader (implied Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Specter x gn!reader)
Summary: Steven Grant has always been insecure about his identity, feeling as though heâs often forgotten by others. Once, youâve made a mistake by calling him âMarcâ during one heated session, he plans to show you, or maybe himself, that you could easily recognise him. Not through the way he articulates, but through other existing senses.
Word count: 2.1k
Content warnings: POV Second person, smut (MDNI), CNC (kinda), soft dom!Steven, oral, unprotected sex, missionary, blindfolds, light bondage, scent kink, light angst, no use of Y/N for reader-insert, not beta-read, overuse of italics.
àȘâ⎠⥠General masterlist
Wanna be added to / removed from the taglist?
Tags: @urlocaloihefangirl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
Ao3
A/N: this is super rushed and super short, but listen... I saw @sergoliathbeetle 's Fragrantica post on TikTok involving my beloved Steven Grant. I loved loved loved it so much and felt super inspired to write something kinky, something sensual while emphasising the sexual world of senses rather than the smut itself. Lowk I like idea, but sorry for all of the grammar mistakes or poor execution :(( . I had to finish this asap before it would actually kill me.
â...For by my side you put on
many wreaths of roses
and garlands of flowers
around your soft neck.
And with precious and royal perfume
you anointed yourself.
On soft beds you satisfied your passionâŠâ
âPoems of Sappho, Sapphic fragments
Steven has always been attentive to his scent. Before buying perfume, he always checks the notes, carefully selecting them. Out of the boys, heâs the only one that shows a particular interest in perfumery though Marc and Jake also enjoy spraying their favorites on their necks.
However, to Stevenâperfumery is personal.
You remember him smelling sweetly, yet fresh, like lavenders that were enriched with the notes of spices and coffee, merging with his love for books. Masculine in a way, but soft and old. A perfect description of his personality.
He has always been the most sensitive, concerning his identity. Marc and Jake were confident, recognising themselves for who they were, and saw each other as an extension of the body and the life they shared. However, Steven had a different opinion. Of course, he loved Marc and Jake, and couldnât possibly imagine his life in another way, but he often felt as if he were in their shadow, or simply forgotten.
Thatâs why for as long as you could recall, Steven was attentive to every detail regarding him: to the way his messy hair sat, the way his clothing stood out, or the way he talked, expressed himself. Especially how he smelled.
To some it would seem natural as every person had a need to be themselves, but you knewâ You knew that to him it was a way to feel himself as a separate person among the other identities.
Often in the calm evenings, as the two of you would cuddle in the bed after long shifts, he would lay his head on your chest, pleading you to play with his hair. Sometimes, when he would feel like opening up, you would hear him vent:
âI feel like nobody remembers my name. Even at work Iâm a âStevieâ, but not Steven. It makes me feel so⊠I donât know. I feel like a nobody. Like Iâm not even there. Iâm just this⊠Ghost, floating around. Kind of useless, really.â
A few nights before, youâve made a crucial mistake. Accidentally, of course, but nonetheless you hate yourself for it, knowing how deeply it must have wounded him.
Unknowingly, in the middle of passionate kisses, you gasped a different name: Marc.
By the time you grasped the situation, Steven had grown cold. At least you sensed it, though he dismissively claimed that it meant nothing, smooching your hand before going back to his books.
He spent the rest of the night with them.
You knew how much it must have hurt him. He was distant for the past few days, keeping himself occupied with books and work, barely sparring you his attention. You didnât blame him at all, giving him space to adjust with his personal dilemma, as youâve apologised for too many times to count.
You wished you could make it up for him, maybe turn back the time. You could do anything, offer him anything, though maybe that would do even more damage.
Thatâs why you decided to keep it to yourself, patiently waiting for him to settle in his emotions and forgive you.
However, you never expected this to happen.
You woke up to darkness, though you are sure it was a bright Sunday morning.
Once your consciousness was fully awake and your senses returned, you felt a thin dark fabric blinding your vision. A belt tied your wrists together to the bed. The air gushing over your skin signalled that you were completely naked.
Immediately, anxiety overwhelmed you whole, fearing that an intruder might have done so.
Then you thought for a moment or two, evaluating all possibilities, and realising that most likely thatâs not the case. Most likely Jake wants to freak you out as he had a tendency to play with bondages.
The unexpected morning was kind of exciting, kinky, making you nibble your lip in an attempt to suppress a giggle.
Regardless, you decided to stay quiet, fearing that maybe you were wrong and someone else was in the room, waiting for you to wake up.
Suddenly, you heard the bed creak, bending underneath you, as someone crawled towards your exposed body.
As you were about to open your mouth, almost whispering Jake, you stopped. That someone must have been hovering above you as a scent reached your nostrils.
Somehow it smelled familiar, though you couldnât wrap your finger around it, trying your hardest to recognise the notes.
And you almost jumped out of your skin, as the unknown man placed a kiss behind your ear. It gave you an opportunity to lightly graze his neck with the tip of your nose, inhaling the perfume with your eager lungs.
He quickly retreated, kissing your neck instead, just above the pulsing arteries. The kisses were slow and sloppy, with a rough tongue caressing your sensitive skin. It felt intimate, loving, he must have been fully aware of the spots that formed goosebumps. Yet, he avoided using his teeth. It also seemed like he had fun teasing you while sucking your neck, causing you to accidentally exhale louder than intended from time to time.
You began connecting the dots. Jake? No, it couldnât be Jake. Heâs loving, of course, but vulgar and rough. He definitely wouldâve bitten your neck by now, marking every inch of youâ
The kisses moved to the other side of your neck, planting kisses in the exact manner as before. It was sensual and precise. The aroma drugged you, making you sigh softly and arch your back, aching for more. Touches, you wanted to be touched by the hands. Sadly, your desperation was heartlessly rejected by the executioner.
You guessed in your mind again, biting down your lip just to muffle your sounds. Marc? No, it couldnât be Marc. Though heâs more careful than Jake, he wouldâve run his hands over your body by now, occasionally slapping your ass with passion. No, he wouldâve definitely wrapped your legs around his torsoâ
Then the mysterious man pushed his body on top of yours, humping against your core, seemingly realising that he canât be as mysterious as he had intended. Only then did you realise that he was fully clothed, though in sweatwear.
He continued moving downwards, bringing his attention firstly to your collarbones, then your chestbone, then your nipples.
Steven? No, it couldnât be Steven. Heâs too sweet to be doing this, though he is very affectionate. He usually wants you to take the lead, guide him through the spectrum of your lustâ
Then you inhaled the scent again, piecing the notes together.
Sweet, yet masculine, with a hint of softness, yet assertiveness. Rich and old.
The strong lavender and faint green tea plant, old books, coffee, and leather.
Then the realisation hit you, making you gasp out loud with guilt for not recognising sooner, âSteven?â
No response, though the friction between your bodies deepened, and you couldnât help but grind yourself right against his hardness.
A silent whine escaped from his lips.
Thatâs him, surely.
How unexpected. How arousing!
âSteven,â you sighed again, rolling his name with your tongue so seductively.
His hands finally landed on your bare flesh, sweaty, yet so attentive to your anatomy. They ran along your figure, slowly rubbing the sides and finally your hips. His fingers couldnât contain themselves, drawing circles on your thighs as he moved further down, finishing up with sloppy kisses on your abdomen before pulling away.
âSteven!â you called out, huffing from the desire coursing through your body. You couldnât handle the sudden departure, especially in the state that youâre in. âSteven, I know itâs you, please⊠Iâm sorryââ
Your prayers were heard as he mouthed over your sex.
Just like before, he knew exactly what you liked and where to place his attention with his tongue. What to suck, what to lick, where to show his appreciation. How to hold your shaky thighs, how to assist them from collapsing.
He loved you so much, more than himself, it was clear from how he managed to hold himself together up to this point. You understood how badly he was trying to impress you. To please you and to honor your sensuality. To show you that Steven can be as sexual as anyone else.
In a way, his busy mouth spelled âsorryâ without you knowing.
All of it made your head spin, as the blindfold aggravated your sensations, forcing your soft moans to come out of your mouth naturally. It motivated him further, preparing you for the inevitable not only by his mouth, but his fingers as well.
âSteven, I know itâs you,â you breathed out again, raising your hips so he could reach even sweeter spots. âI love you, Stevenâ Steven, I love you so much, so veryââ
That made him pause again, but before you could register, you heard what sounded like clothing dropping down on the wooden floor.
A hot body pressed itself against you; rigid hands wrapped your legs around the waist. You tried your best to hold them in place though they were sliding off his sweaty flesh.
A sudden push inside of you, sense of fullness, overtook you. A foreign, warm and hard object soon sled in and out repeatedly, yet carefully, as if trying not to hurt you.
The unfamiliar world of senses.
The bodily sensations.
The tasty tension on your wrists while you would try to tug them down. The large hands roaming around your body. The gentle lips clashing against yours, a greedy tongue poking your mouth. The feeling of his sweat becoming your own. The close skin-to-skin contact, making you feel as though the flesh is merging into a singular mass. His cock lovingly pressing down on every nerve bud inside of you with passion.
The sounds.
Of slapping skin as his hips thrusted into you, angling differently just to notice your shifting voice and reactions. Wet pops, loud kisses. The clicks of teeth hitting one another. His whimpers and moans, grunts, combined with your own, as the pleasure overwhelmed you both.
The odor.
The reek of sweat mixing with Stevenâs perfume. The smell of Steven, a strong lavender pushing through the others, making you dizzy.
Made for you, so you could recognise him without seeing him. That itâs Steven whoâs making love to you.
You wanted to consume him, swallow him whole; he smelled too good, especially as the hot skin evaporated the scent quicklier.
âSteven,â you whispered into his ear again, once your lips separated.
âThatâs right, loveâŠâ he grunted finally, thrusting faster, holding onto your fingers with one hand, while the other landed on your hip, securing you in place. He sounded so desperate, so close to crying. âSay my name. Pleaseâ Say it again, love!â
You fulfilled his wish by chanting his name outloud with lust. It drove him mad, you guessed, as you couldnât see his expressions.
And you were right, feeling how his hips snapped right then. He kissed you while taking your breath away, absorbing everything you could give him.
âLove,â he moaned, pressing his nose against yours. âWhen did you know?â
âIââ You understood what he meant, though you couldnât reply through pleasure, as he pressed gentle kisses all over your neck again. Somehow, you found the strength to speak onward, wishing to gaze into his eyes at such an intimate moment. âYou smell like Steven. You kiss like Steven. You express yourself like Steven. You show your love to me like Steven. You embrace me like Stevââ
Your voice eventually broke down when he slammed himself into you a couple of times, whining out your name with a cry.
His cock twitched inside, creaming your insides, while you shook from the orgasm rippling through your whole body like a wave, overcoming the senses.
Finally, coming down from your high with loud breathing, he removed the blindfold from your eyes.
You were met by his flushed face, both from crying silently and experiencing something so bodily.
âSteven, whyââ you began.
âI didnât hurt you, did I?â He tried to control his emotions, smiling down at you so sweetly. âI wanted to please you. I love you, you know that I canât be mad at you. Itâs just that I⊠God, Iâm so silly, arenât I? I just wanted you to know that it was me who was pleasing you. Without seeing me. Iâm sorry if I went overboardââ
âWell, Iâm down for a second round if you couldâŠâ you interrupted, tugging at your restraints with a sly smirk.
He laughed, following along, feeling brighter once you saw him for who he truly was.
Credits for the beautiful dividers to @/mieluno <3
Marc tries to remember the last time he was with you - what you
said and what you wore. Here, now, he only has a handful of videos on
his phone to get him through the loneliness of being without you.
He swipes his thumb across his phone's screen, pushing play on a
video of you in the park one spring afternoon.
The sun kisses your cheeks as you laugh at something trivial. Your
face is turned up to the sky, gazing at the clouds as Marc gazes at you
adoringly.
He can't help himself. It's you.
His thumb swipes again, revealing a view of you from behind -
you're hanging laundry on the line, the subtle curves of you tempting him in even the most innocent and domestic of actions. A bit old-
fashioned, but you like the way the sun makes the sheets smell, you would say.
'Hey baby,' he hears your voice on the small screen.
What he wouldn't give to hear your voice right now. His chest burns with how much he misses you.
Another swipe reveals the uniquely curved shape of your naked
body.
You're on your knees in front of him, naked, blissed out from the
orgasm he wrung out of you with his mouth, moments before. Lips, kiss swollen and red, breasts littered with red and purple marks where he sucked and made you remember who you belong to.
A groan of pleasure rumbles out of him as you temptingly run the tip
of your tongue over your mouth. He places his hard, heavy cock on your
waiting tongue before your beautiful lips wrap around him. Your eyes lock with his as you take him to the back of your throat, gagging just enough to make you whimper.
He can still feel the vibrations of your moans around him. Still
remember the wet mess he would make of you as drool dribbled out of
the corners of your perfect lips.
Here and now, he wets his own lips, sighing as his cock twitches in
response to watching you suck him off.
God, he misses you - your smile, your laugh, your body. Being
inside you, filling you up, making you moan and scream and even beg
sometimes.
The sounds of your slurping and gagging on the video get him
hard. If he keeps going like this, he's going to need some relief.
He swipes the screen again, to a video of you fucking him one of your
last nights together.
Your naked body sits astride him, palms pressed to his chest as you
balance. Your gorgeous hips rotate in a vigorous rhythm as you work
yourself over his cock - your full breasts bouncing deliciously as you pant his name.
He loves that you let him record you. In fact, it seems to make you wilder to know youâre putting on a show for him.
At the sound of his name panted wantonly on the screen, he
unfastens his jeans and slips his hand inside for some relief, sliding his
thumb over his tip, already leaking.
The absolutely wrecked moans emanating from his phone screen
are already driving him wild as he frees his cock, spits into his palm and
starts working his fist up and down his stiff length.
Your pace increases as you ride him hard, obscenities flying from his
mouth as he tangles his fingers with yours. âSo fucking perfect, baby. You ride me so good. You were made to take this cock.â
He pumps his shaft vigorously, groaning as he watches you come
onscreen.
Your head flies back in ecstasy, your back arching in rapture, which inadvertently slows your pace. But he needs to come. He needs that friction.
Sitting up with your bodies still joined, he grips your hips and drives
into you with wild, brutal thrusts, faster and faster, overstimulating you
well past your point of pleasure as he chases his finish. âMarc, oh fuckâŠâ
You moan, losing your mind as he sinks his teeth into the meat of your
shoulder, coating you inside with his spend, filling you so full that you
canât help but tell him.
âLove when you come inside me,â you pant as he comes back to
himself, kissing along your sweat soaked hairline until his mouth covers
yours, tongues tangling as he holds you close, softening inside you.
Watching your collection always does it for him but something
tonight has him missing you beyond belief, leaving him unable to go on
another moment apart from you. He knows he shouldnât, but he needs
you so badly. He has to see you. He's missed you so much and itâs all
his fault youâre apart.
So he rolls the dice and Facetimes you.
Heâs thrilled when you answer, and stunned to find you in bed, a
sheen of sweat covering your perfect face. He murmurs your name, almost reverently, admiring the goddess you are. It feels like forever since he heard your voice, especially in your bedroom.
"What are you doing?" He manages to choke out, floored that you would show him this private side of you since heâs been gone so long.
"What do you think?" You pant, angling the phone to give him a
view of your bare tits, bouncing prettily while you evidently fuck
yourself.
He can literally hear the vibrations of the toy you're using on
yourself, making him groan out an appreciative curse at the sights and
sounds to which youâre making him privy.
"Fuck I miss you," he pants, even as he works his hand faster up
and down his length at the sight of your naked body. The videos were
good, but this? Fisting his cock greedily while watching you get yourself off? This is perfect.
"What if your husband finds you like this?" He grounds out, dark
eyes lazily rolling back as he works his hand faster over his length.
"Fuck him, he's gone all the time," you scoff, ratcheting up the
speed of your vibrator. The rough timbre of Marcâs voice can make you
come every time. "Keep talking, I'm close. Miss you too. Miss your
cock inside me."
"Jesus, honey, who were you thinking about with that toy stuffed
in your pussy?" He goads, thrilled that you're willing to do this with
him, were already thinking of him and missing him, wishing it was him
doing filthy things to you.
"You know whose cock I want," you whine, echoing his thoughts
perfectly, running your free hand over your breast to tweak your
hardened nipple. "Think about it all the time. Miss you filling me up so
full, baby. Want you to come inside me again."
"Dirty girl," he fires back, remembering how you love it when he
calls you that. "So dirty - wishing I was there, fucking that wet cunt
while your husband's away. Making a mess of you and fucking my cum
back into you."
"YesâŠMarc," you pant, your voice ascending in pitch as bliss starts
to claw at you, ready to take you over the edge. "Miss youâŠso deep in
me. Nobody fucks me like you.â
The sounds of your orgasm, the fucked out expression on your
face as you come, the way you moan his name brings him to the brink,
his hips stuttering as hot cum coats his fist, making a delicious mess of
his hand and soft stomach.
"Oh fuckâŠbaby, that was a hundred times better with you talking
me through it," you gasp, coming down from your high.
"You better clean up before your husband gets home, dirty girl,"
Marc chuckles, using his discarded button up to wipe the mess from his hands.
You gaze directly into the phone, giving Marc a clear view of your
beautiful face.
"Did you just come?" You condescendingly chide. "Why don't you
stop talking about how my husband is gone and come see me yourself?
You can come inside me instead of making a mess like a teenager."
As if you wished him to life, a knock resounds on your door about
seven minutes later, leaving you perplexed, since you arenât expecting
company. You peek through the peephole and gasp, stunned to see your husband has come home early.
"Marc!" You breathe, throwing your arms around your husband.
"When did you get back from your mission?â Your eyebrows crinkle in
confusion. âAnd where were you just now, while weâŠ"
"Hey baby," he murmurs against your ear, pulling you close to the
solid wall of him. Easing back, he presses a longing kiss to your mouth.
"I was downstairs in the parking garage, in Jake's car." He shrugs.
âThought we could try something different.â
"Oh shit," you whistle, slugging him on the arm playfully. "You
were here the whole time and you made me use my vibrator?"
"Couldn't help it, honey," he grins, mischievously. "You're so dirty
on that little screen."
You shove him jovially, letting him know he will be making it up
to you for the rest of the night. "Jake's gonna kill you if I don't."
so , uh â i kinda became obsessed with that silver streak silver lining hehe on oscar isaacâs head in wonât back down .
it would be hilarious though if itâs just a trick lighting during filming , and i just made it all up in my head .
gifs by @santiagogarcia & @userpoe
gifs by @mr-handsomeeyebrows
but itâs there too in this interview magazine piece , and then there it is again when heâs all shaved for nathan bateman .
so maybe iâm still sane .
sane , however , in terms of hyperfixating on a peculiar hair growth on your favourite actor â debatable still .
snowghoul
2087
stormborns
prguitarman
titsay
