pairing: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader (all three know of relationship)
warnings: SMUT 18+, MINOR SPOILERS, fem receiving oral, p in v, cream pie, overstimulation
word count: 2,000
summary: you knew Marc before Steven came along. now that Steven is here, Marc wonders who you like better in bed.
masterlist
A/N: i would love to know how you guys feel my representation of marc is. it’s a little hard only two episodes in, and i’ve never read moon knight comics, but if there’s something that feels right or wrong, send in an ask or a comment
You met Marc long before Marc met Steven and Marc told you about Steven the moment he felt him. You’d never seen Marc scared before, but when his second personality first revealed itself, he was terrified. You would never forget the fear in his eyes when you opened your apartment door to your boyfriend in a cold sweat, telling you about another man named Steven that used his body the day before. You wouldn’t forget the way he fell asleep in your arms that night, crying softly even as he slept. But it was Marc who wouldn’t forget watching you, as if behind glass, when Steven woke and met you the first time. Marc tried his best to explain to Steven, to tell him who you were, but it was too early. Marc couldn’t get through to Steven yet.
Marc remembered the way you spoke to Steven the first time you encountered him. You were so patient and kind with him as Marc watched, trapped inside his own mind. You explained to Steven who Marc was and what was happening and how you knew. You told Steven that you were technically his girlfriend, but if he wasn’t comfortable with you, it was fine. You were soft and loving. You treated him the same way that you treated Marc.
Steven came to trust you quickly. The way you spoke to him, and what you knew about him made him sure that you cared about him. You were always taking care of him in the hours he was conscious with you, which never seemed to be as many as Steven wanted. Marc felt the same way. Both Marc and Steven would stay awake for as long as they could when they were with you, knowing that once they were out, they’d likely be gone by the time they woke. Each of them was always glad to wake up beside you. Since Marc’s personality disorder took hold, you’d moved in, telling both Marc and Steven that they should have someone to take care of them.
You adjusted to Steven’s new presence in your life pretty quickly. Marc had already been Khonshu’s avatar when you started dating, so you were used to Marc being a confusing man. You loved Marc so much that nothing was ever going to change that. You saw the similarities between Steven and Marc more than the differences. It didn’t take long before they were one and the same to you. Marc didn’t always see it that way though. One night, he brought the subject up rather bluntly.
“Which one of us do you love more?” Marc asked you as you played with his fingers. You were laying in bed facing one another. It was late in the evening, but Marc wanted to be with you for as long as he could before sleep took hold of him. You quirked your eyebrow up.
“One of who?” You asked.
“Me or Steven,” Marc explained. His eyes had anxiety in them. You smiled softly.
“You’re the same for me,” you said. “Now you just have two names,” you added. Marc scoffed.
“C’mon, I know he’s different from me, I’ve seen him,” Marc said.
“You’re different, but you’re the same too,” you said.
“How are we the same?” Marc asked, seeming almost insulted.
“You both have trouble trusting people, but for some reason you trusted me quickly,” you explained. Marc hummed in agreement. “You both have strong morals,” you added. Marc hummed again quietly. “And you both love me,” you finished. Marc was still for a moment before leaning forward and kissing you softly.
“Promise you don’t love him more than me?” Marc asked, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His voice was low and gravelly. It was one of the things you missed most about Marc when Steven was around, though Steven’s different British slang words were always cute to you.
“Promise,” you said, reaching up with your free hand to run your finger along Marc’s jaw line. Marc nodded, feeling reassured at last. There was a brief pause before a mischievous smirk spread across Marc’s face.
“Which one of us is better in bed?” Marc asked. You blushed brightly.
“Marc, don’t be weird,” you said. Marc chuckled. He released your hand to place his hand on your waist, pushing your t-shirt up so that he could touch your skin.
“I give him advice sometimes. I tell him what you like,” Marc told you.
“I know,” you said. “I can feel you sometimes,” you confessed. Marc smiled widely.
“So, I’m better than him?” Marc asked. You thought for a moment. Marc was certainly better. He’d been with you longer, and Steven had only just started living. But the idea of what Marc might do to you if you told him Steven was better was very appealing.
“No, Steven is,” you said bluntly. Marc’s smirk dropped. He could tell you were messing with him, challenging him, but he didn’t like your methods.
“Excuse me?” Marc’s voice had dropped an octave. The hand he had on your waist gripped you more firmly.
“I said that Steven is better than you in bed,” you said. Marc clenched his jaw.
“Is that so?” Marc asked.
“Mmhmm,” you hummed. “Better with his mouth,” you added, knowing how much that would bother Marc. He had turned eating your pussy into an art over the course of your relationship, and you knew he wouldn’t want to hear that his other side was better than him at it.
“We both know that’s a lie,” Marc said, a bit of venom in his voice.
“I don’t know,” you drawled. “Maybe you should prove yourself to me,” you challenged.
“Oh, darling,” he cooed. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Marc whispered. His hand moved up your body to cup your breast. He squeezed gently before pinching your nipple and pulling at it gingerly. You held in a moan, not wanting to give Marc the satisfaction. He pushed you onto your back and settled over the top of you, pushing your knees apart with his own and letting his body settle between them. He began kissing your neck roughly, marking you all over as he tore your shirt off your body.
“Trying to mark your territory with yourself?” You teased, reading into Marc’s actions with ease.
“He has to know which one of us you belong to,” Marc said. You chuckled. It was silly to you that Marc was essentially jealous of himself. You ran your fingers up and down Marc’s chest as he sucked and bit marks onto your chest and neck before slowly traveling down your body, pressing kisses along your stomach as he moved. He found his place between your thighs, wrapping his arms around them and pulling them apart to make room for himself. He tore your underwear off your body, assuring you he would buy you new ones next time you were out together. He kissed your inner thighs softly, sending shivers down your spine. He reached up, ghosting his finger over your slit. Enough that you could feel his touch, but not enough that you were getting any relief.
“Marc, please,” you called down to him.
“Begging already?” Marc looked up at you, a twinkle in his eyes. You rolled your own, not wanting to give him satisfaction quite yet. Marc pushed the pad of his finger down against your clit. You gasped quietly. Marc smirked at the sound. He rubbed up and down a few times before sliding his fingers through your folds, collecting the wetness that had pooled there. He dipped his middle finger inside you, earning another gasp from you as you felt him begin to stretch you. After a few strokes he added a second finger.
“How does that feel, princess?” Marc called up to you. You blushed at the nickname.
“Feels s’good,” you murmured, trying to keep your breathing even. Marc leaned his head down, attaching his lips to your clit and sucking harshly.
“Oh, fuck! Just like that!” You moaned loudly. Marc curled his fingers upwards a bit as he thrust into you, hitting the part of your walls that drove you mad with pleasure. You moaned loudly.
“Gonna come,” you gasped. Marc smirked as he pulled your first orgasm of the night from you. He stayed between your legs, sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue, curling his fingers up against the spot that you couldn’t quite reach yourself. He thrust into you over and over, keeping his lips locked to your cunt. He didn’t rise till he had pulled 3 more orgasms from you. When he finally crawled back up your body, you were shaking from pleasure. Your muscles tingled and your pussy convulsed around nothing as you steadied your breathing. Marc pressed loving kisses to your jaw and collar bones before rising to your lips. He kissed you, then pulled away just enough to speak, his lips still brushing against yours.
“Can you do one more for me? I want to come inside you, princess,” Marc told you. You moaned at his words.
“Yes, but be gentle,” you whimpered. Marc smiled and nodded. He kissed your nose softly. He pushed his sweatpants off and threw them off the bed. He settled back between your legs and lined up his throbbing tip with your center. He’d been waiting so long that he wasn’t going to last long. He pushed into you slowly, both of you moaning loudly as he filled you. Marc stilled once he was inside you, waiting for your go ahead. He could feel you pulsing around him, adjusting to having him inside you. You nodded after a moment.
“Go ahead,” you said. Marc began slowly pushing in and out of you. Each thrust was highlighted by the sounds of the sloppy wetness that was left from Marc’s earlier work on your pussy. The sound felt dirty and depraved and both of you loved it. Marc was moaning softly as he thrust. Your pussy was still fluttering around him, having become so sensitive after all the previous orgasms.
“Can I go faster?” Marc called down, voice strained as he tried to keep himself together.
“Yes, please,” you moaned back. Marc sped his pace up a bit. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, causing him to hit you at a slightly different angle. You both let out sinful sounds at this new sensation.
“I’m close,” Marc gasped.
“Me too,” you called up. Marc reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit in tight circles.
“Fuck, fuck, Marc!” You gasped. “I’m coming again,” you cried out. Overwhelming waves of pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched down tightly on Marc’s thick cock and that last sensation was too much for Marc.
“Oh, fuck, princess,” Marc moaned lowly. You felt his hot cum filling you up as he drove himself all the way into you. He rolled off you after a moment, rising to go get a wet rag to clean you up with. He tossed the rag to the side and crawled back into bed, pulling you against him. You were exhausted from all the pleasure, nearly asleep by the time Marc wrapped his arm around you.
“Still think Steven’s better?” Marc questioned. You managed to laugh despite the tiredness that you felt. You weren’t sure how Steven or Marc handled the exhaustion they each felt all the time.
“Never did,” you replied, turning your head slightly to press a kiss to Marc’s bare chest, Marc smiled and hummed proudly. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, a blissful smile across your face. Sleep was never something that brought him peace, but he always found peace in you. He watched you as you drifted off, occasionally whispering an “I love you” into your hair. He stayed awake for as long as he could, reveling in the way you rested in his arms, but eventually he drifted off as well. He never knew if he would get to wake up beside you, but he took comfort knowing that you never woke up alone.
realized last night that stephen strange and matt murdock canonically attended the same university (columbia) AT THE SAME TIME for at least a year if they both went to uni straight out of high school . strange is ~3 years older than matt so it’s totally plausible
Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (feat. Steven Grant)
Summary: Give Marc a certain look and he’ll give you his all. In the condition that you’re gonna be good.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Unprotected and rough p in v penetration, overstimulation, slight D/S dynamics, sir kink, creampie
A/N: I caught up on Moon Knight yesterday and who would’ve thought that it’d be Marc Spector to give me my groove back LMFAO thanks @soldatspet and @bemine-bucky for the push 😘😘😘
MAIN MASTERLIST
“You have got to stop giving me those eyes in the middle of a job.”
You felt Marc trail closely behind you as you both stepped inside the elevator of an old motel. Unable to help yourself from smirking, you bit down on your lip as you turned around.
“What eyes?” You innocently asked, blinking up at Marc while slightly tilting your head to the side.
The soft yet low grunt that Marc made was almost inaudible. He rolled his eyes before towering you, making you walk backwards until you felt the cold wall of the elevator against your bare shoulders.
“Those eyes,” Marc hoarsely whispered as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning your cheek as he teasingly nosed your skin. “…the kind of look you give me when you want to get fucked.” He said, pulling back just to take in your look.
He hasn’t even laid a finger on you and yet your eyes were already so glassy. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you breathed, your mouth parted and lips glistening.
“That what you want?” Marc asked, his tone teasing as he tipped your chin up with his fingers.
You merely nodded, whining softly when you felt Marc’s knee slot in between your legs to tease your mound.
“Want me to fuck this cunt until you’re begging for me to stop?” He asked again, this time moving his knee back and forth to rub at your aching pussy.
Marc didn’t even let you answer because the way you were arching your back against the wall was enough to let him know how much you needed him to use you. He took a step back from you and smirked in amusement when you whined at the loss of contact.
“Tell me you’re gonna be good.” He demanded, voice louder and firmer this time around.
You panted and almost sagged against the wall, your need to feel his cock almost rendering you weak in the knees.
“I’m gonna be good.” You whispered.
Marc snickered, “Louder, princess.”
You groaned, “Gonna be good for you, Marc!” You exclaimed just as when the elevator reached your floor.
A satisfied smile tugged at Marc’s lips as the doors slid open behind him, “As soon as you step out, you’ll only do what I say. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
-
“Is my princess getting tired? Thought you were gonna be good?” Marc asked, the patronizing tone of his voice giving you a new sense of vigor to keep going.
He had already fucked an orgasm out of you as soon as the both of you reached the motel room, but of course, Marc was an overachiever. One climax wasn’t enough for him, he needed more so he sat on a chair and had you straddle him, with your hands tied behind your back.
“‘’m not tired…” you panted, slowly getting your rhythm back as you bounced on his cock
Marc chuckled as he watched you with lidded eyes, so desperate to please him like the good girl you said you were. He licked his lips as he looked at your tits bouncing with every movement.
“You’re gonna have to try harder, princess. I fucked you good earlier, didn’t I? Made your pussy cum so hard it had your eyes rolling back to your head. If you want another reward you’re gonna have to ride my cock better.” He mocked, gripping your neck with both of his large hands to pull you closer for a messy kiss.
You moaned against his mouth, feeling his tongue slip into yours. He kissed you roughly, slightly canting his hips upwards before he completely stilled in his seat again.
“Go on, princess. Ride me harder, you can do it.” He encouraged before letting you go and leaning back against the chair to watch you.
Taking in a sharp inhale, you ignored the way your thighs were burning and sped up your pace. You kept your gaze on Marc as you rode his cock, sometimes sliding back and forth instead of bouncing up and down.
Marc’s face scrunched into pleasure when your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock, parting his mouth to let out a soft grunt.
Moans continued to spill out of you; the girth of his cock stretching your cunt out deliciously. There was a slight sting to it but god, you loved the pain.
And you loved how Marc was looking at you like a predator eyeing his prey.
Sweat trickled down both your bodies, mixing together with your wetness that was pooling at the base of Marc’s cock.
“That’s it, fucking my cock so well. Good girl.” Marc praised, opening his legs wider and pushing your thighs even farther apart.
You keened when you felt the tip of his cock hit your cervix when you slammed down on him, your body trembling at the surge of pleasure that coursed through your veins.
Marc choked out a chuckle, “That hit the spot, princess? Felt your cunt clench around me tightly. Squeezing me so fucking good, getting me all wet from your juices.” He said.
“Marc, please…” you whimpered, feeling that familiar tightness in your abdomen.
“What does my princess want?” Marc asked, brushing your hair away from your face.
You swallowed hard and tried to keep your eyes open, “Touch me, please. Wanna cum so bad.” You moaned, rolling your hips against his harder and faster— needier.
Marc hummed before cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other. He held back from touching you that when you felt the roughness of his palm against your skin, you almost felt like your entire body was burning.
“Need my help to get you off, huh? Can’t cum without me touching you?” Marc teased again, running his thumb along your lower lip.
You nodded, “Yes, sir. Please, please. Need you to touch me, need you to make me cum.” You sputtered out your words.
Marc grunted and shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck on them before he reached down between your bodies to rub on your bundle of nerves.
The action made you moan out loud and your legs quiver from the pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes as you neared your release.
Marc knew your body perfectly, he knew the little cues it would give each time you were about to explode. He firmly planted his feet on the ground and gripped your waist tighter before finally thrusting his hips up to meet yours.
The pleasure from Marc’s cock fucking into you and his fingers rubbing at your clit was overwhelmingly good, so good that made your entire body tremble as you finally came.
A silent scream left your mouth, your nails digging into the palms as you tried to hold onto something but to no avail. The restraints had already left marks on your wrists but you couldn’t care less because you were too focused on how his cock kept on fucking into you to prolong your orgasm.
Tears tainted your cheeks as you went limp and fell against Marc’s sweaty chest, your body jolting from aftershocks as his cock slowed down from slipping in and out of your abused cunt.
You might have lost your consciousness because when you opened your eyes, your wrists were no longer tied behind you and Marc was soothingly rubbing your back while whispering praises into your ear.
“You back?” He laughed as you straightened up to look at him.
His face was red sweaty, with some of his curls sticking onto his damp forehead. You breathily chuckled as you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.
“You still gonna be good for me?” Marc whispered against your mouth as he stood up from the chair, hoisting you up with him.
You squealed at this sudden movement, feeling his hard cock continue to throb inside of your swollen pussy.
“I asked you a question, princess. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Marc warned as he walked to the bed.
You nodded and kissed him again, “Yes, sir.” You responded.
“Good.” Marc said and wordlessly dropped you on the bed, manhandling you and roughly turning you around before kneeling behind you.
He lifted your ass up and pressed down on your nape, pushing your face against the mattress as he slid his cock back inside of you with no prior warning.
You cried out at the friction, your pussy absolutely overstimulated and begging to breathe. But you’d do anything for Marc Spector, so you took in every thrust no matter how abused your cunt felt.
His grunts and groans filled the air as he fucked you to his liking, landing a spank on your ass every now and then. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, your toes curling from the tension slowly pooling in your abdomen yet again.
Two climaxes in and yet your body was begging for more despite the exhaustion.
“God, your pussy’s so fucking tight. So fucking greedy for my cock, aren’t you?” Marc said, thumbing your puckered hole.
“Mhmm!” You hummed, arching your back even deeper.
Marc slapped your ass again before squeezing it playfully, “Could feel you getting close again, can you cum again for me?” He asked, gripping your waist tightly.
You nodded as you drooled on the sheets; your eyelids fluttered as you neared your third orgasm, you were already incoherent and babbling— just the way Marc wanted.
He loved it when he’d fuck you dumb like this. You were so helpless and so willing to surrender everything to him.
Marc lifted his knee up and planted his foot on the bed to find a better angle before he fucked you relentlessly, barely pulling his cock out of your cunt.
You cried his name out like a prayer, cumming hard after one particular thrust that had you seeing stars. Marc groaned out loud when your pussy clenched around his cock, pushing him to his own orgasm.
Marc bent down to press kisses along your spine as he spilled inside of you, his warm release filling you up to the brim.
His sweaty chest was pressed against your back as he pressed a kiss behind your ear, “Did so good for me, princess.” He whispered, allowing your pussy’s contractions to milk his cock until the last drop.
“Hold it in for me?” He whispered as he straightened his back, pulling his softening cock out from your pussy.
Following Marc’s instruction, you clenched hard to keep all of his release inside of you as you caught your breath. Keeping your ass up in the air, you sighed in comfort when Marc started caressing your ass.
“Let go, princess.” He said.
You relaxed your entire body and allowed Marc’s cum to spill out of your cunt. You whined at the feeling of it dripping down the insides of your thighs.
“Beautiful.” Marc praised, landing a gentle spank on your ass as he watched his release continue to drip out of your puffy pussy.
He licked his lips and gently helped you lay down on your back. He crawled over you and smiled proudly, “God, you’re gorgeous. You satisfied now?” He teased, pressing the tip of his nose against yours.
You chuckled and forced your eyes to open despite the exhaustion, “Hmm yeah. Thank you, sir.” You whispered, slowly feeling yourself doze off.
You still heard Marc praising you, making you smile before you completely succumbed to sleep.
-
The shaking of the floor and the loud noise of the tracks as a train passed by woke you up. You were still slightly annoyed that the motel Marc chose to laylow in was near the railway. However, memories from the previous day quickly changed your mood despite the noise.
Your body was sore all over, especially in between your legs. Shifting on the bed, you realized that you were in one of Marc’s shirts already. He must have helped you clean up last night while you were dead asleep.
Smiling, you turned to the other side and was met with Marc’s face, peacefully asleep. Carefully, you reached over to fix a stray curl away from his face.
Marc stirred and scrunched his nose making you laugh, “‘’m sorry, did I wake you?” You softly asked when he opened his eyes.
His eyes met your eyes and it didn’t take him more than a second to let out a scream as he jolted out of bed. You panicked and jumped out as well, asking Marc what was wrong.
“Who are you?! Where am I?!” Marc exclaimed fearfully, eyes wide and seemingly disoriented.
His accent changed too.
“Calm down, Marc. It’s just me.” You coaxed.
Marc’s shocked expression was immediately replaced by that of worry. His shoulders visibly relax as he sat back down on the bed, rubbing his face with his hand.
“Oh no, oh no.” He murmured to himself, “Not again.” He added before realizing that he was merely clad in a pair of boxers.
Marc hurriedly covered himself up with the blanket. His sudden change of demeanor made you realize what was going on.
You cautiously approached the bed and sat down, allowing some space in between the two of you.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” Marc continued to talk to himself.
Steven, rather.
“It’s okay, Steven.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Steven turned to you quickly, “You…you know me?” He asked incredulously.
You nodded, “Steven Grant.” You said.
“Marc told you…about me?” He asked again, still unable to believe.
“He mentioned you a couple of times. Steven…with a V.” You explained.
You’d known about Steven for quite a while now, it was something that Marc thought he needed you to know. With the kind of relationship you two had, it was important that you knew about these things.
It left you quite confused at first and to be honest, you didn’t understand Marc’s situation. He was patient enough to explain everything to you and after a while, you felt like you already knew Steven.
Now that you finally met him, it felt surreal but nothing’s really changed with how you felt about Steven’s existence— he really was a lovely lad.
Steven let out a sigh, “I must apologize, I must have frightened you.” He said, finally calming down.
You laughed and shook your head, “It’s alright. I figured I’d meet you one day, just didn’t expect it’d be right after…” you trailed, feeling your face heat up.
Steven was quick to understand what you meant and felt just as awkward. There was a pause for a brief moment before he cleared his throat.
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you—“ he trailed, squinting as if he was recalling whether Marc had told him your name.
You quickly introduced yourself and extended your arm for a handshake, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” You said.
Steven glanced down at your hand and noticed the marks on your wrists, “Oh my, you’re hurt.” He worriedly said, mindlessly taking your arm to take a close look at it.
You felt your body heat up even more, “No, don’t worry. Those are…” you said, figuring out how to tell Steven where those marks came from.
“Marc and I…last night…” you stammered.
You saw the embarrassment in Steven’s eyes the very moment he caught your drift, “Ohhh, oh. Must have been a fun night.” He said and immediately regretted his cheeky remark.
You laughed and nodded, “It was indeed a fun night.” You affirmed.
The awkward atmosphere turned lighter thankfully. Steven glanced at you again, “Did Marc…take good care of you after?” He carefully asked.
Your eyes softened up as you looked at Steven. You smiled and nodded, “He did. Thank you for asking, Steven. He did leave me quite hungry though.” You admitted.
Steven chuckled, “Well then, I should get Marc back.” He said, preparing to stand up until you stopped him.
“Why don’t we get breakfast together, Steven with a V?” You asked with amusement.
“Marc did tell me that I’d have to get to know you at one point. Perhaps we can do that over coffee?” You hopefully asked.
You could see the gears in Steven’s head turning before he looked down and scratched at his neck, “I’m not sure Marc would like that.” He said.
Smiling, you stood up and grabbed his shirt on the floor before handing it over to him.
“Marc was right about you, Steven with a V. You worry too much.” You said with a slight chuckle, “I’m absolutely sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader x Steven Grant
Summary: Marc decides to teach you a lesson when you mistake him for Steven.
Rating: really fucking explicit
Warning/content: Marc's dirty filthy mouth, Steven's over-eager mouth, Marc is wee bit jealous, cunnilingus, overstimulation, refraction period? — we don't know her, established relationship.
Word Count: 3.5k (I have no excuse, pure self-indulgent filth)
[Tag List and Masterlist]
“Does that feel good, love? Think you can come for me again?”
You don't know how many orgasms he's pulled from you already. Everything sounds like it’s underwater. You can't tell if it’s Marc or Steven fronting right now. If it's Marc who is talking to you, or Steven, taking you apart inch by inch, one devastating orgasm at a time.
Love. He called you love. Steven calls you love. This must be Steven.
Steven’s lips come to the inside of your thigh, pressing gentle kisses meant to soothe, but the sandpaper brush of his stubble makes everything inside you that more wound up, your nerves raw like everything is going to splinter.
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, and the soft caress of his breath is searing against your skin, wreaking havoc on you. The low rumbling of his voice, so uncharacteristic of him, is dipped in hunger and greed, and it skitters up and down your spine until it's difficult to breathe. It's a perfect counterpoint to his surprisingly skilled mouth and fingers on you, to the heat spreading under your skin and building to an explosive pitch between your legs.
“Want you to come all over my mouth, yeah?” he says, with none of his trademark shyness, before he dives back in, tongue laving at your slick folds.
You can’t help but give him what he wants.
You come, your cunt clenches down, spasming around the thick girth of his fingers where he has you stretched open. Everything else disappears for a moment, your body weightless with pure unadulterated bliss. You are so disorientated that you are almost certain you are floating in zero gravity. You can’t even hear your heartbeat anymore. Can’t feel it thump against the cage of your chest. For all you know it might have stopped entirely. All you’re capable of feeling is an abstract tingling sensation that buzzes pleasantly in your veins.
Then you hear his voice, soft and adoring, from somewhere above. His fingers slip out of you, and you whine--even overwrought as you are, you feel empty at the loss.
There’s a gentle palm with soft-worn calluses stroking down the side of your ribs. Comforting kisses press your thighs, as he murmurs quiet praises about how good you are for him and how pretty you look like this.
You can’t help but snort a laugh at that last bit, not sure what he’s on about because you’re sure you look anything but right now. Your hair is soaked with sweat and clinging to your temple; your face, sticky and clammy. You’re certain you must look a complete mess as you lie here in a shambled heap on your bed. Your vision is so blurred you can barely see the white of your ceiling, but you're still able to make out the man above you, gazing down at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky.
“Think you can give me another one, love? Jus' one more, yeah?”
Fucking hell. This man…
He doesn’t even give you a moment to gather yourself. You barely have a chance to nod before the saliva-slicked thumb gently presses down on your clit again. For all his sweet cooing and gentle touch and care, he is always merciless in his pursuit to make you come like there’s a prize for him at the end of it.
"Fucking finally," he huffs under his breath, and if you weren't so completely out of it, you'd tell him it's his own fault for dragging that last orgasm out so long.
As cliche as it sounds, you’re so blissed out of your mind you can’t tell anymore, where the pleasure begins and ends. All you feel is clever fingers already curling inside you again; a greedy hand cupping your breast; a hungry mouth nipping at the hollow of your throat. He’s everywhere, and you spread your legs wider, open yourself up, so he can have every single inch of you.
The bed shifts, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear the watery edges of your vision. After a moment, your eyes finally refocus on the man in front of you.
He’s kneeling above you, cock in hand, as he gives it a slow lazy stroke that makes your mouth water. A slick sheen of sweat graces the muscular line of his shoulder, bathed in amber gold of your bedroom light.
“You alright, baby? Want me to keep going?” The look in his eyes is as gentle as ever he checks in on you to make sure you’re okay. Makes you feel precious and cared for.
The only thing you can do is nod.
“You say stop if it gets to be too much,” he rasps out as lines himself up against you.
The first thrust is deep and consuming, and you cry out as the perfect stretch of him has white sparks burning behind your eyelids. You’re so worked up, everything makes a little bit less sense; mind almost a little bit numb. You can barely think straight and you think to yourself ironically, this is probably why they call it being cockdumb.
And it's not being made better by the way that he’s running his fucking mouth.
"So fucking perfect,” he murmurs into your ear, rasped and breathless as he nips on your ear. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm. Fuck, you're so tight right now. Always so tight after you come for us."
He stays there, buried inside you to the hilt to allow you some reprieve and to accommodate around him. You can feel his eagerness to move in the way his cock twitches excitedly inside of you. Can tell he’s resisting that very urge when he grips the bedsheets tightly with his fingers until they go bone-knuckled. It strikes heat and pleasure all at once into the pit of your stomach. It’s so good; too much; and it teethers on the edge of the overwhelming.
A warm hand comes to cup your cheeks. He’s consoling you, brushing away the hair in your eyes, and the touch of it grounds you. “Does that feel good, baby?”
His eyes are ridiculously gorgeous, deep and rich, you find yourself easily lost in him. All you can see is his sweet half-smile, one corner of his mouth curling upward just for you. All you want to do in your overwrought state of mind is to please him, to praise him on how good he always makes you feel, so you do.
"So good. Feel so full. No one fucks me like you do, Steven."
He stills.
From above, you see it, the moment his expression changes. Gone is the indulgent softness. The curl of his full lips turned into a scowl. Those deep rich eyes bleed into sternness fixed with a dark glower. You realise a bit too late that Marc is the one inside you now, not sweet Steven.
You try to think back. When did his voice change? His accent? His eyes are narrowed instead of wide adoring affection. Everything about his body language is different, must have changed before this, and how stupid is it that you didn’t notice until now? As much as you hate to admit it, you're just a little bit out of it; a little bit come dumb from how the two of them have made you come again and again.
The next thing you register is the emptiness inside you as he slips almost entirely out of you; until only the blunt tip rests inside you. There’s a look in his eyes, a flash of something determined and almost dangerous, as he adjusts his hips against you.
There’s no warning as he thrusts all the way back inside, in one long and slick stroke back inside you. Deep and hard. It strikes something absolutely fucking devastating in you until it steals away your breath and makes you cry out.
“Fuckohfuck, Marc!”
“That's right, baby.” He leans over with his lips to your ear, voice low and dark and demanding as he rolls his hips, and then grinds deep within you. “Say it again. Who fucks you like this?”
Everything’s sharp and bright inside you; the rush of pleasure that comes with every thrust mind-numbing. You don’t know how Marc expects you to give him an answer; can’t even stutter out the ‘you’ that’s right on the tip of your tongue. Instead all that comes out is a pitiful sob.
"No? Still not good enough for you?” Marc demands.
You thought at first, with what little brain power was available to you, that he was jealous, and maybe there’s some of that in there too, but there’s something else. Something almost teasing that makes you think he’s not even all that upset about your mistake. The bastard that he is, he just wants to capitalise on the opportunity to push you to your limit.
“Our girl is so greedy, isn’t she?” he continues mercilessly, ”Always wanting more. How about—" two hands come to rest on the inside of your thighs, lifting you off the mattress until your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he presses the delicious weight of his body on top of yours, folding you nearly in half. "How about this?"
His voice is pure savage glee, a kid that gets to play and pull apart his toy in whatever manner he wants. Your fingers twist into the sheets, trying to grab on tight because it feels like you are falling off the edge of the very world. Then Marc rolls his hips into you at the devastating new angle and it knocks the breath out of your lungs, tipping you past that very edge.
It doesn't matter that you're ready to repent. Doesn’t matter that you’re trying to moan your explanation in between insistent, merciless strokes. "That's not— fuck, ooooh shit, Marc, I didn’t mean—"
That man is not letting up, and with how hard you came just mere minutes ago, he's already got you so keyed up that you can feel that all familiar pressure and heat settle against the line of your spine with an alarming speed.
There’s a brief hesitation in his rhythm, like his concentration was broken for a moment, and you catch him glancing at the mirror. You wonder if Steven's there telling Marc to stop. Steven’s always looking out for you; would do anything for you, and that includes taking care of you in bed. But when you turn your head sideways, the mirror shows you the same perfect reflection of reality it always does.
If Steven's there, you can't see him. Instead, all you can see is the image of yourself being split open by Marc. How Marc towers over you, with his lean stature. The firm muscles on his back sloping down to the generous curves of his ass like he was a carved marble statue meant to depict the ancient Greek deities themselves. Those thick raven curls furl with heat and sweat against his forehead. He’s so fucking beautiful it’s unfair.
“You looking for Steven to save you?” Firm fingers grip the edge of your jaw, forcing your gaze back towards Marc. “Well too fucking bad. Steven’s not here. You’re stuck with me.”
Alright, nevermind. Definitely jealous then.
Marc’s next thrust drives a strange squeaking noise from your lungs, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren't so far gone.
"What was that,—” Marc taunts, huffing out a dark laugh between thrusts, “—did you want me—to stop?"
His voice is unbearably smug, and you almost want to tell him to stop just on principle, but fuck that. You don’t want him to stop. Even though it's so fucking much that it borders on the unbearable. You shake your head frantically. You never want him to stop.
“That’s what I… thought,” Marc grits out, thrusting hard on the last word.
He’s driving up against something perfect and molten inside of you, and heat rises up in you like a tide, seething under your skin. You think you might actually be going to come again, but the sensation is immense, nearly unbearable, and you clutch at Marc, whimpering as it threatens to swamp your already overwhelmed and overstimulated system.
“It’s alright. You’re alright, baby,” he rasps out, not even slowing down. “You can take it, can’t you? Take it for me like a good girl.” Then he tilts your hips up even farther, and that’s it. You’re done.
Fierce, electric heat explodes outwards, crackling rapturously through your limbs, submerging you entirely until you lose track of reality for a minute.
When you come back to yourself, Marc is still thrusting into you. The rhythm of it is soothing, drawing out your pleasure in a way you’ve never known before, like you've hit a plateau rather than travelling up and down a mountain. Distantly you note that everything is a slick mess. That you are soaking Marc’s cock with how wet your cunt is for him. You can feel it leaking out of you with every press and retreat of him inside you, dripping down over the curve of your ass onto the bed sheets.
Then, out of nowhere, Marc does stop.
The sound you make is damn near inhuman. Fuck, why?? Why is he stopping when all you need is more of him?
Your eyes flutter open to see Marc staring at the mirror, his full attention focused on his reflection. On Steven.
You don’t know what Steven is saying to him, but whatever it is, has Marc chuckling.
He turns away from the mirror with a toothy grin full of mischief, and he leans back down towards you, pressing his mouth close so he can whisper in your ear like it's a secret; like Steven can't always hear him no matter how quiet he's being.
“He wants me to fuck you harder. Stretch you all the way open on our cock. Make you come again.”
You have no way of knowing if that’s true or if Marc is just saying that to get a rise out of Steven. You can’t exactly hear Steven’s end of the conversation. But it doesn’t matter, because Marc’s doing it.
You don’t know if you want to escape the sensation or demand more of it. But you can’t do either. In fact, you seem to have lost control of your body completely. All you can do is shudder and whine under him as Marc follows Steven’s alleged request and pushes himself hard and deep inside of you—oh God, just like that—again and again.
The pleasure twines and spreads slowly though your heavy limbs until you're completely drunk on the sensation of Marc's cock driving into you. He’s reduced you to a heap of bones, flesh and skin without any sentient thought left in your brain. Until you have lost all other sensation to the point where you almost miss the way that Marc is murmuring a string of filth into your ear.
“That’s right, baby. You’re not done yet.”
You can’t look away from him, the way that sweat is dripping down his collarbone, the mesmerising rise and fall of his chest as his breath is rasping in and out of his lungs.
“Gimme one more,” he says. “You come on my cock one more time, then I’ll fill you up. Make a mess of you, and Steven can clean you up with his tongue.”
This man is the devil.
You don’t know what that makes you when you’re so aroused by the picture he’s painting for you.
You’re exhausted. Every inch of you feels tender. You have been strummed and plucked and pushed over the edge again and again until all of you has become one single raw overwrought nerve. At this point you’re not even sure you’re physically capable of coming again. But still, white heat sparks and cracks and invades your numb limbs until you’re thrumming with it.
He's rutting into you, hips in an uneven jerking place, grinding as if he needs to get deeper, as deep inside you as he can to stake his claim and never leave. And fuck, you wish he could. You want him to fuck you like this forever and never stop.
Your cunt flutters around the thick girth of him involuntarily, and it does something to Marc too. He gasps and swears, hips stuttering forward into you, and it's almost enough.... almost... almost...
"Marc..." your voice breathy, pleading, barely recognizable to your own ears.
"Fuck," Marc huffs out. His hips stutter in its pace. If you didn’t know any better, from the way he closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if to gather himself, you’d think his trademark control is slipping. But then he seems to rally himself and pulls back, almost all the way out.
You clutch at him. If he stops now, if he dares to deny you, you swear to god, you will actually kill this man, or failing that, die on the spot in protest. Your fingers digging into the firm meat of his shoulders, sobbing his name. You need—more, need everything, need him, need to—
“Shh,” he hushes you with a soothing coo, comforting fingers brushing back the sweat-slicked hair clinging to your forehead. “I'm right here, baby. Let go, I've got you.”
His tone doesn’t match his actions. Marc thrusts back in, driving so deep you can fucking taste it, and you dimly realize that you're screaming as the pleasure streaks outward, tearing your world apart.
It’s a flickering light that is dimming and finally dies out from the surge of electricity. Your brain completely loses all higher functions and all that is left is the rush of heat that spreads all over you. It pours and pours until you’re lightheaded and the whole room spins with it. Everything feels blissfully tight; too much and just enough. Then you come.
When you open your eyes, you see those gorgeous dark eyes rolling back, baring the long line of his throat and it’s a beautiful fucking sight. The sharp edge of his jaw, pink pouty lips all shiny and slick from you. You swear those thick sweat soaked curls glisten in the dim light. He’s so ridiculously gorgeous, you can hardly believe he is real.
Marc isn’t far behind you. His cock pulses, spilling warm heat inside of you with a strained moan. Every muscle in him goes rigid against you.
Then Marc collapses onto you, arms wrapped all around you as he lands on top of you on the bed, his firm weight resting on top of you. Both of you are a boneless and sweaty tangled heap against the mattress. His firm chest is pressed against you, so close the beat of his heart is hammering against your skin.
In the silence of your bedroom, your harsh, panting breaths echo as if you just finished the most harrowing marathon of your lives. There’s a gentle hand stroking the plane of your back. It’s so gentle, the touch of it so adoring that you’re not sure if it’s Marc or Steven, but you don’t think it matters much at all.
As you come down, your senses slowly flicker awake. You can feel the soft gentle comfort of a reassuring touch running along your thighs. A warm hand petting you over the wideness of your hip bones, soft stroking caresses to coax you back down from your high.
Eventually, your breaths slow, and he pushes himself up, and away from your chest with shaky arms, until you can see his soft gorgeous face that is practically glowing as he smiles down at you. Utterly boyish, utterly charming.
Steven, you realise. Steven’s back…
“You alright there, love? Was Marc too rough?” His thick brows knit together in worry. An expression of guilt bleeding into his handsome face.
In your exhaustion, you find yourself still breathless as you try to answer him, “Yeah. No, I’m alright,” you pause, and lower your voice, feeling suddenly, inexplicably shy. “I… I liked it."
At your response, that worried expression breaks out into a beaming grin that makes your heart leap and skip several beats with unadulterated fondness.
“Good. That’s good, yeah.”
Steven is a fucking sight onto himself. Your eyes trail downwards, from his chest, that’s glistening with sweat down to his torso and— bloody fucking hell. Your eyes widen at the sight. You don’t even know how, but Steven’s already hard again or maybe he just never went down for the count at all. His other hand is fisting his cock, a slick mess of white lines of cum that’s dripping down the aching length of him as it twitches and jumps with undeterred eagerness.
“Then, um…. Sorry to ask, but do you think…” It’s Steven’s turn to look down bashfully, then back up at you. His cheeks are flushed with a deep pink; hair, a tousled mess with a pleading expression in his eyes, that you cannot possibly turn down.
“Do you think we could go again? …please?”
Dear fucking God, these men. Steven may be all sweet and polite about it, but deep down he’s just as greedy and demanding as Marc. Maybe worse.
You’re not sure how you’re going to survive these two, but you’re going to enjoy the ride.
Dedication and Credits:
@krissology for chasing her dreams with such boundless courage and gumption, I'm forever proud to have a friend like her who is so absolutely fucking fierce and fearless. She's one of the most talented writers I've come across and she is publishing her debut novel Forget Me Now, available for pre-order here. Go support this brilliant human being, you won't regret it.
@thirstworldproblemss to my most beloved and brilliant co-writer, who stays up with me all night and all day to prawn like no one has prawn ever before. I never have more fun than when I am in a google doc with you, screaming about the beauty of this man and writing out the exact same suggestions to each other at the same time.
@frannyzooey for succeeding to make me cry on a Tuesday afternoon in the office with her kind words and support. You're someone that I'm endlessly proud to call a friend, for your humour, your kindness and your warmth. You are just one of the best humans and I hope you wake up everyday and know that and if you don't, I will remind you everyday.
| RATED 18+. PWP, very little plot, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk
| NOTE: so yeah, this one's short. and it's a smut fic. this came to mind while i was washing the dishes and i needed to post it so i wouldn't forget i had this idea. anyway, again, this is a smut fic, so if ur not comfortable then do not read, and if u know u shouldn't be reading this, then don't. ENJOY ANYWAY. comments, hearts, reblogs are always appreciated. actual content below the 'keep reading' part.
You were climbing. You’re so close. You’re nearly there. You grip the sheets so tight your knuckles were as white the sheets. Your back arched greatly as he hit the spot over and over. Your moans filled the room along with breathy sighs and the lewd sounds he made as he ate your core. Your vision was starting to blur in ecstasy but you willed yourself to look down at him.
His face buried between the valley of your thighs. Your legs resting firmly above his shoulders. He loves it, he loves your weight above you, the control you have on him. You could easily clamp your legs shut and basically suffocate him, but he’d be glad to. After all, he can feel you quivering beneath his lips and his tongue. You have control over him, and he controls you too.
The sight of him made the knot in your belly become tighter and he growled in satisfaction. Yours and his eyes met and you can practically see him smirking just through his eyes. He gave your core one long lick, his tongue flat against your sensitive flesh and you were nearly undone. He did it one more time just to push you one step closer to the edge and you gasped at the loss of contact.
You were there, one last kiss from his lips, one last touch of his hands would’ve sent you in pure bliss, but he decided to tease you, prolonging your agony. His lips planted open mouthed kisses along your stomach, your chest, and your neck as his body slid upwards.
“Why’d you stop? I’m so fucking close.” you gasped when he bit your earlobe. You were surprised at yourself for forming a sentence. And to think, just mere seconds ago you would’ve become a stuttering and incoherent mess. His hands, his trembling yet beautiful hands sent a burning blaze across your skin, and he’s not even touching you fully, his fingers are just ghosting traces on your stomach.
“Because I want to feel you come around me.” he said, his voice husky. He drank in your response, a moan, by catching your lips with his. While your hands roamed on his back, he gripped himself and lined himself to your core.
Damn with the lube, you were so wet for him, you can practically feel a river run through your legs. As the tip of his cock impaled you, his tongue did the same to your mouth. You sucked his tongue and moaned, pushing Stephen to finally thrust himself inside you.
Stephen, the cockiest sorcerer you’ve ever had the chance of meeting, actually has a long and thick cock. For the first time the two of you fucked, you were absolutely scared that he’ll not fit, well, you were wrong. Stephen always proves you wrong. His size was impressive and it always made your head spin how he manages to fill you up, especially when he’s balls-deep inside you.
With half of his erection now buried inside you, you can feel your muscles tighten. He kissed you one more time, chaste and short this time so he could focus on fucking you. Stephen pulled out and a sound escaped your lips. Then he slid himself inside, faster and more forceful than the last time, and you can feel the tip of his cock poke through your wall. You arched your back and that sent you to the edge, finally falling to bliss. You gasped as the waves of your orgasm wash through you.
As your pussy clenched around him, Stephen pushed himself deeper, a groan escaping his lips at the sensation.
“You’re so tight.” he panted, closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. The feeling of you gripping his cock so tight, so warm, and so wet, almost made him come right that moment. After a few breaths, he calmed down and willed himself to move but he was stuck.
“Oh my god.” you said, now realizing what was happening. Before you could stop yourself, the laughter escaped your lips. Your legs were trembling and your body was quaking in hilarity of the situation. Stephen sat between your thighs, a layer of sweat coating his skin, his face looks half amused and half frustrated.
As a doctor, he knows the science behind it. In some cases, men do really get stuck during intercourse. Penis captivus; the words floated through his head. Stephen looked at you, smiling and giggling, hair messed up and skin glowing against the low lights of the room. Stephen joined in laughing, his throaty chuckles matching yours. He leaned down and cupped your cheek before kissing you gently.
When the two of you broke for air, you said, “You’re stuck.”
“Obviously. Does it hurt?” he asked, concerned.
“You’re stuck inside me, Stephen.” you giggled.
“I am, now answer me, are you hurt?” he reiterated, his thumb drawing circles on your thighs.
“Doesn’t really hurt.” you smiled at him and stole a kiss.
“Now, what you need you to do is relax. Can you do that? So I can move…” Stephen said, starting a series of kisses down your jaw and your throat.
“I think you’re doing well at making me relax, doctor.” you said. Suddenly, the pressure between your muscles and his cock decreased. Experimentally, Stephen moved, thrusting forward a little, testing the waters.
Stephen felt you fully relax around him and started out slow. He set a languorous pace, softly opening you and filling you up with his cock. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling his muscles flex under his skin.
The feeling of him was amazing, his weight above you, his pelvic bone softly grinding against your clit. Moans and heavy breaths, the pornographic curses and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It was overwhelming but you need more, he needs more.
During sex, Stephen loves to hold your hand and plant it against the bed, using it as a leverage to level and angle his thrust. His right hand holding yours on the bed, his left hand now traveling to your hip, lifting slightly so he could hit that spot again and again.
And he did. Your eyes flew open in shock as you felt it. “Oh my god, yes.” you sighed.
“Right there?” he asked, now thrusting hard.
Arched back, hips slightly elevated, he hit your G-spot. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and Stephen groaned, the familiar feeling of you tightening around him signaling your nearing orgasm made his breath hitch.
“Fuck yes.” you cursed and this spurred Stephen to fuck you faster and harder.
His pace sped up and the bed started to creak loudly. Your screams and his low moans were probably heard throughout the whole Sanctum, but the two of you could not give any damn at the moment. Stephen was fucking you so good, there was no time to think about the consequences.
“I want you to come for me one more time, baby.” he growled against your ear. His lips brushed against your pulse point; he can taste your pounding heartbeat beneath his tongue. You focused on coming, you wanted to come for him, because you know that would send him to spiral to his orgasm.
And so, for a moment, you closed your eyes, just feeling. The feeling of him above you. His hand holding yours. His hand gripping your hips tightly, it would probably leave a mark. His lips on your neck. His breath by your ear. His growls and low moans. His clean sweat coating his and your skin. And his cock, continually and steadily pounding into you.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me.” his words fell from his lips finally made you come for the second time.
“Fuck. Stephen—” you cried out as you came. You gripped his arm firmly as he continued to push himself in and out of you, helping himself to orgasm. Not too long you could feel his cock twitch, his pace slows down, and his hips stutter in movements.
A low groan and a sharp “fuck” fell from Stephen’s lips. Your hands travel lower to his ass, holding him in place and this made him shoot hot spurts of his cum inside you. His cum fills you up, his warmth painting your walls. It’s the most satisfying and glorious feeling ever.
As he rides out his high, Stephen plants kisses on your face before finally kissing your lips. The kiss was sweet, as any other kiss you shared while the two of you cool down. Tiredly, he pulls out of you, some of his cum dripping out of you. But before it could mess the sheets, Stephen dropped between your legs and licked up his dripping cum. He caught it with his tongue, cleaning you up. He slid upward so his lips could meet yours. He kissed you, his tongue meeting yours and you gently suck on his tongue, tasting him and yourself.
When the two of you broke the kiss, you open your eyes and met his gaze. The two of you shared a smile before settling into a comfortable position; Stephen lying on your chest, his head tucked beneath your chin, his arms and legs securely wrapped around yours and your body. He absently drew patterns on your skin as your hands ran through his dark and gray hair. Every now and then you would kiss his temple and he’ll kiss your chest, that spot right above your heart.
“You got stuck.” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yes I did.” he mumbled sleepily, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“I wonder why.” you chuckled.
“It’s the vaginal muscle contractions. Your orgasm caused it. You came so powerfully; you know involuntary muscle spasms and all. You were unbelievably tight.” he said, shifting so he could gaze at you. A smirk formed on his lips, he gave you a panty-busting wink and you giggled.
“You know, you're so hot when you all go doctor-y. Or maybe, you just have a big cock.” you shrugged.
“Yes I do, and it’s all yours, baby.” his smirk had now blown into a grin and you did the same, before pulling him down to your lips to kiss him.
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( hope u liked that! comments, hearts, reblogs are greatly appreciated !! )
Pairings: Jake Lockley x F!Reader (in focus), Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort 🌓, Fluff 💛, Smut 🌝
Summary: Jake Lockley was fine. Really. Marc and Steven are happy with their girlfriend and he's okay staying in the shadows. He's used to staying in the shadows. He managed to stay hidden from the boys for years, but lately something makes him take control more and more. Or rather, someone makes him take control more and more.
A/N: Please note that I only used information from the show about DID, sorry if something is not correct 🙏 Since we haven't seen much of Jake I went with the vibes we saw of him in ep 5. We stan a murder daddy in this house 😌
I started writing this before ep 6 came out, but I also can't speak Spanish, so I went with a New Yorker vibe.
Warnings: way too many use of the word "different(ly)", rough sex, dirty talk, name calling
Steven and Marc had similarities, but they were very different at the same time. Being with them for months now made you notice every little change in behaviour. They had different accents of course, but they moved differently too, they carried themselves differently, they looked at you differently.
They eat differently and had their coffees differently. Even the way they brushed their teeth was different. Whatever they did, you only needed to take one look at them to know who was going on about their day as they moved around the flat.
But lately they confused you. The first time you didn't know which one you were dealing with was about two weeks ago. You woke up and upon seeing your boyfriend shirtless in the kitchen, you know it was Marc, since Steven prefered to wear a shirt around the flat, only taking it off when you requested it during cuddles in bed.
You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him from behind, putting your cheek against his warm back and breathing in his scent.
"Good morning, hun." - you said kissing one of his shoulder blades.
"Good morning." - he replied, voice sounding a little bit different.
It sounded like he was having a slightly different accent. Still American, but it was not his usual one. His tone of voice was different too. Marc was always laid back and confident, flirty even when he talked to you. Right now it sounded like he was spooked. Or on edge.
Steven was like this at the very beginning of your relationship, but he came out of his shell more and more as the time passed and now is completely relaxed in your presence.
You looked over him to see what he's doing and he turned a little, lifting one of his arms to hold you close to him.
You smiled and watched as he was prepairing coffee, one in your favourite mug and another in...
"Uhm, that's Steven's." - you told him, and you felt him tense up.
"So?"
"You know he's very adamant on you two using your own stuff for eating and drinking."
He sighed and you watched with a frown as he put 3 spoons of sugar in his coffee.
Marc liked his coffee with a little bit of milk and nothing else.
Steven drank his with only 1 spoon of sugar in it.
"Don't know why he's so worked up because of that. Last I checked we share the same body, eh?"
Something was off. This was different. All jokes aside he sounded like a New York thug. You reached up and cupped his face between your hands and turned it, so you could look at him.
"Are you okay?" - you asked softly.
He looked down sheepishly, like you caught him doing something wrong and you could see as his cheeks turned red a little. When he looked back at you, your heart jumped in your chest. His eyes looked a little bigger, more round, and he had an intense stare. There was something deep inside them, something feral. For a second it looked like he wanted to kiss you, because he leaned down, but stopped himself and shook his head.
"Marc?"
Hearing the name made him wince slightly and he suddenly hugged you close to him. You returned his embrace, holding him strongly, and you kissed his neck when you heard him smell your hair, inhaling your scent deeply. A few seconds later a slight shudder ran through him, and he pulled away, looking at you adoringly, like you were the center of his universe.
"Hey, love."
You blinked a few times, and caressed his cheek.
"Hey, Steven."
"Did you sleep well?" - he asked as he turned slightly to look over the counter and saw his mug.
"Yeah..." - you said, trailing off.
"Oh, did you make coffee for me?" - he asked as he picked it up and took a sip.
His eyes instantly went wide and he spat it back into the mug.
"Ow, sorry! It's just... I drink mine with a little bit less sugar in it." - he smiled apologetically.
"I know..." - you said in a breathless voice as you were staring at the drink in his hand with confusion.
"Then why did you put so many in it?" - Steven asked as he poured it out into the sink and went to make a new one. - "Did Marc make the coffee?"
You took an uneasy step back from him and replied in a shaky voice:
"I don't know."
When Steven detected the fear in your voice, he turned around confused. His face instantly became worried when he saw you were visibly upset.
"Hey, what's worng, love? Are you alright?" - he asked as he helped you sit down at the table, then crouched down in front of you.
"I don't know. Are you alright?" - you asked back.
Steven looked surprised by the question, but smiled.
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
You calmed down a little at his response and took his hand in yours.
"Wait, did Marc do something?" - he asked and he looked like he was ready to kick ass.
"No, no. It... wasn't him. I'm just tired I guess. What do you say we go back to bed and watch Friends?"
Steven stood up and kissed your forehead.
"Sounds like a plan, princess."
-----
The next time Marc fronted you asked him about that morning, but he didn't remember anything. He said after he woke up he went to the bathroom and Steven must have took control. Which was weird because for a long time now they always told each other if they wanted to front, or when they felt tired or stressed they asked the other to take over.
"Why, did Steven do something?" - Marc asked as you two were walking hand in hand on the street to have dinner at a restaurant.
"No. It was just weird. Maybe I'm just seeing things."
Marc looked at you in concern, and wanted to ask you about it, but then suddenly a man walked into you from the side, almost making you fall.
You were glad you weren't alone and that your boyfriend caught you, or else you'd be on the ground, probably with your stockings ripped at your knees.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking!" - the man apologised, and you instantly felt your annoyance dissolve when you saw that he was carrying a lot of grocery bags, one of them now on the ground with apples rolling everywhere from inside.
"It's alri-" - you wanted to say and reach down to help him pick up the fruits, but Marc's hold on your arm tightened, and he pulled you behind him.
"Hey why don't you watch where you're going, man?" - he asked and blocked you with his body from the man before him.
Your eyes widened, hearing that he was talking differently again. It was like he was clenching his jaw while he was speaking and his accent was weird again.
"Hey, it's okay-" - your hold on his arm tightened and you tired to pull him back, from the man who was staring at him, clearly scared.
Marc, or whoever this person was in your boyfriends' body turned to you.
"No, it's not okay! He hurt you!" - he shouted.
You took a step back from him and you felt like you should run. He looked... wild. Like he was about to murder someone. But somewhere deep inside your boyfriends were in there too, so you put on a brave face.
"It was an accident! Will you just calm down?!" - you spat in his face and yanked your arm out of his grip, then walked around him to help the poor man pick up his apples.
"I'm terribly sorry, miss! He's right, I should've been more careful!"
"It's okay, nobody got hurt." - you smiled at him and you tried to hide your annoyance when your boyfriends' hand appeared in your line of vision and saw two apples in his hand.
The man took them from him with slightly shaking hands and nodded in thanks.
When you stood up, you looked at him expectantly. You saw his jaw tighten, then he cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry, man. I overreacted."
The man nodded again and quickly hurried away.
You turned to 'Marc' and raised an eyebrow at him while you crossed your arms over your chest.
His posture shrank, and he looked to the ground again like a kid who was caught doing something he was not supposed to. He was biting his lower lip repeatedly, looking clearly stressed out.
"Hey." - your eyes softened and you walked to him, slowly taking his hands in yours.
His eyes bore into yours and you saw as his shoulders relaxed a little.
"Who are you?" - you asked in a whisper, and you caressed his knuckles with your thumbs.
You saw pain behind his eyes. And yearning.
"Someone who shouldn't be here." - he answered and before you could find out more, you saw as his eyes rolled back and then he looked around confused.
"Whoa, that was weird. Did Steven took control again?" - Marc asked.
You gulped and slowly started nodding your head.
"Y-yeah. A guy ran into me, and I guess Steven didn't want you to kick his ass so he dissolved the situation." - you replied with an unsure smile.
Wow, did you just lie to your boyfriend? It took months for him and Steven to learn to live with each other, and sometimes they still bickered like two five year old boys. You didn't know what would happen if you told them they are sharing a body with a third person.
"Are you okay?" - Marc asked concerened, rubbing your upper arms and shoulders.
"Yeah. Let's go eat, okay?"
-----
You haven't seen him since. You were conflicted when it came to him: you wanted to see him, to get to know him better, but on the other hand you were a bit scared of him. He looked terrifying and dangerous. Unstable. Broken. But he didn't hurt you and you wondered if he felt safe in your presence since he showed himself to you.
You also wondered why the boys aren't aware of him. He didn't take control often, you wondered why was that. Or why is he showing himself now. Maybe he was a new alter? The thought made you worry. Alters are usually created when a person suffers a trauma which they can't cope with. You hoped nothing bad happened to Marc and Steven in the past few months since they were with you. It would break your heart to know they went through a hard time without you having any clue about it.
You wanted to be there for them no matter what and you decided you'll be there for this new alter too. There must be a reason why he fronted in your presence two times now. He seemed lonely and you will provide him comfort until he feels safe enough to introduce himself to the others. He can't stay hidden forever, right?
-----
You walked through the apartment door on a late afternoon after a long day at work. You dropped your keys into a bowl on the kitchen counter with a loud jingle, then threw your bag into one of the chairs annoyed. You kicked off your shoes with a groan and as you passed your confused boyfriend you pecked his cheek and went straight to the bathroom.
"Must be a bad day." - Jake murmured to himself and turned to look at the bathroom door.
He didn't like it when you were upset, and he knew Steven and Marc always managed to calm you down. Sometimes with cuddles and sometimes with... well, sex.
He felt the urge to go after you, he felt the need to be able to make you relax, to be able to feel your skin against his, directly and not through Marc or Steven. But he wasn't your boyfriend. It would be wrong to pose as one of them and make you believe you were with them. He still felt like some kind of creep when he co-fronts while one of them is being intimate with you, and this would take it to a whole other level.
He didn't want to give the body back to Marc or Steven yet either. They have it most of the time and Jake was tired of being the punching bag and side character in their lives. He deserved a life for himself too which wasn't full of pain and suffering. He will always protect the boys without a second thought, but he also had enough. If they can share the body with each other, there must be enough room for another, right? Well, it would suck for them at first, but it was about time he took control every once in a while and not just when they were in inmediate danger. He wanna have some fun too. Like go to a Yankees match, eating a hotdog and drinking cold beer. Or take a walk in the park, feeding ducks and doves, while he enjoys a coffee himself. Okay, sometimes he did those things, but he wants to do them more often.
Or try new things. Like cuddle with you on a rainy day on the couch, or make love to you in the middle of the night when you two can't sleep.
Marc and Steven did those things. He wants to do them too.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by the opening of the batroom door and he watched mesmerized as you walked out wrapped in a beige towel that reached your mid-thighs, hair wet and body glistening with a thin layer of water.
"Sorry for going in there without a word, but I really needed that." - you smiled at his expression while you walked in the kitchen.
He was looking at you with a kind of disbelief written across his face.
Steven usually looked at you with a lovestruck expression, his eyes dovey, and smiling softly while he took in the sight of you, and Marc almost always looked like he wanted to undress you and take you to the bedroom.
This time it was different. Those eyes looked like they were seeing you like this for the first time and their owner wasn't sure if he was dreaming or watching reality. It was cute.
You walked past him to get something to drink, but he softly grabbed your wrist and pulled you between his legs, as he hugged you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling as his clothes became damp because of your wet body.
You giggled, and hugged him back.
"I'm gonna get you wet."
"I'm not completely sure, but I think I should be the one saying that."
You laughed louder and pulled away, cupping his face.
"You are funny, random citizen." - you ruffled his hair, giggling at his wide eyed expression.
You made another succesful attempt to approach the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, drinking almost half of it.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and turned back to him.
"So what's your name?"
Jake looked taken aback. He knew there were times when you suspected he was neither of your boyfriends, hell, last time he pretty much confirmed it, but he thought he hid away for enough time for you to forget about those little moments.
"Marc?" - he tried.
You smiled and shook your head.
God, you were so cute when you smiled like that.
"Steven?"
You giggled and shook your head more.
He liked it when you laughed.
He loved it when he made you laugh.
"J-Jake." - he finally admitted.
"Ah, so he has a name." - you teased and walked over to him and put one of your hands on the side of his face, gently caressing his cheek. Your eyes softened when he leaned into your touch. - "I'll go dry my hair and put on some clothes. You'll still be here?"
He nodded as an answer, still looking a little mesmerized. You smiled again and as you walked back to the bathroom, you asked him to order some food.
The rest of the afternoon went with you two watching movies on Netflix while destroying a large pizza and drinking beer. First he was quite tense when you two sat down on the couch, and there were uncomfortable silences between brief conversations, but as the afternoon turned into evening, Jake found himself closer and closer to you, now sitting with your knees and shoulders touching each other.
He laughed at a silly scene from the movie and you looked at his face, smiling, feeling happy that finally he spent more time with you and didn't run away like he used to.
"What time is it?" - he asked suddenly.
"Half past ten."
"Shit!" - he turned left and right, looking around frantically.
"Wha-?"
"Remote?!"
You handed it to him and he snatched it out of your hand, quickly surfing the channels.
"Ah, thank God, it just started." - he relaxed and you snorted as you stared at the baseball game.
"Oh my God, are you a Yankees fan?"
He narrowed his eyes at you.
"What's wrong with the Yankees?"
"Dave said they suck."
"Who's Dave?"
"A co-worker of mine."
"Well, looks like I'm gonna fucking kick Dave's ass."
You laughed out loud, then got up from the couch to pick up the empty pizza box and beer cans. You cleaned up a little in the kitchen too, then walked back to Jake.
"Have fun watching the game, I'm gonna head to bed." - you said and you leaned down to kiss his forehead.
He hugged you before so you knew he liked physical affection, plus he was sharing the body with your boyfriends, so it came as second nature to you to show them love.
He grabbed your wrist again gently, to stop you from leaving.
"Will you stay with me?"
"I can't sleep with the TV on."
"I lower the volume."
"But you're watching a game. You're gonna jump and yell when the Yankees get points." - you raised an eyebrow.
"I won't."
"Please... Marc does the same when he watches football, and Steven does it too when he watches cricket."
"Well, I'm not Marc nor Steven. Please?"
You sighed, then sat on the couch again. You grabbed a pillow and put it in Jake's lap and you laid down, resting your head there.
Jake smiled as he lowered the volume and reached for the fluffy blanket that was on the backrest. He put it over you and chuckled a little when you turned on the couch, facing away from the TV and pushing your face into his stomach with a small whine. He started caressing your hair and found himself watching you more than the game as you slowly succumbed to sleep.
-----
Well, this sucked.
Jake pulled a Steven and tried to stay awake for as long as possible, never wanting that night to end. In your sleep you hugged his waist and were holding onto the back of his shirt, with every breath you took warming his stomach as you nuzzled your face into him while he gently played with your hair. It ignited an unfamiliar feeling deep inside of him, and he didn't want to put out those flames ever, because they warmed him up from inside and made his heart beat faster.
But he did fall asleep in the early hours of the morning and now, as he 'accompanied' Steven as he was getting ready for work, a quick glimpse to the calendar told him that three days have passed since.
Morherfucker.
Looks like the boys got needy too, since he often hijacked the body to watch you with 'his own eyes' as you went about with your day in the past few weeks, and they switched fronting between themselves.
Hmm.
This needs to end.
But first...
-----
"Oh, did you buy me a present?" - you asked Marc with an excited smile as you spotted a little gift bag on the kitchen counter.
"Not me." - he replied as he continued eating his dinner.
"Hmm, so Steven buys me little gifts and you dont, tsk, tsk, tsk." - you teased him.
Marc smiled.
"Honey, the things I'm offering cannot be bought with money." - he said then looked up thinking. - "Unless you hire a prostitute."
You laughed and picked up the bag.
"Well, since you don't woo me with presents, I just might!"
"Oh, Steven will love that."
You laughed again and looked inside. You frowned when you saw a white cloth in it with thin black stripes. You pulled it out and pursed your lips to keep yourself from smiling when you realized it was a New York Yankees jersey.
Marc picked up the little card that fall on the table when you pulled it out.
"Not from Dave." - he read it aloud confused and he jumped a little when a loud laugh exploded out of you. - "Who's Dave?"
"A co-worker of mine. But it's not from him."
"Then?"
"It's from a... friend." - you smiled at him, wondering if Jake was there.
Oh, he was. And he promised himself that he will give you more gifts if you rewarded him with that joyful laugh. He also promised himself he would make you forget the word 'friend' when it came to him.
He didn't want to front in case Marc and Steven grew suspicious. When Jake is fronting he makes sure the other two are blocked out, but if he does that often he would break the carefully built bond between the boys and that's the last thing he wanted. They often co-fronted with each other, even if it was just for a few minutes, and they only blocked each other when they truly wanted to be left alone. Which was rare, cause they became pretty comfortable with living with each other.
He just has to wait a little more.
-----
It was the Yankees playing tonight, so of course Jake fronted, forcing Marc to go the fuck asleep. He may respected their schelude, but he had his priorities too. No one should mess with game night, and because of his two headmates, Jake missed enough games that pissed him off enough to send Marc or Steven to wonderland without a second thought.
He switched the program on the TV from some old Van Damme movie Marc was watching to the sport channel and went to the kitchen to search for some snacks and beer.
You woke up after a much needed nap. Marc gave you a foot massage after another stressful day at work, which made you fall asleep in minutes. You heard someone shuffling around the kitchen and you slowly got up, peeking your head outside the room. When you saw that a baseball game was on, your heart skipped a beat.
Jake.
It was almost a week since you last saw him and you missed spending time with him. You remembered the jersey he gave you and you decided game night was a good opportunity to put it on. It was in mens size, so it was pretty big for you and you wondered if he didn't bought it for you, but gave you his.
The thought made your cheeks heat up. You looked in the mirror and since it reached the middle of your thighs, you didn't put on pants. It was pretty hot in the flat anyways.
You quietly walked out and watched Jake from behind as he was looking around in the fridge. He turned around after he pulled out a beer and jumped a little in surprise when he saw you, making you giggle. The way his eyes wandered over your body and spent a good amount of time staying on your legs made your insides ache in a good way.
Jake wasn't experienced at being in a relationship but was this an invitation? You were wearing his jersey and probably nothing else, and he was pretty sure he only saw that look in your eyes, when you wanted Marc and/or Steven to fuck you.
Oh yeah, he knew there were times when they switched while fucking you and it was hot as hell. He wondered if he can do that with the boys after he finally grows a pair and introduces himself to them.
Speaking of growing, something in his pants just woke up.
"Hi." - he said as he took a caotious look towards the couch.
No, you must mistake him for Marc or Steven. He gave you the jersey, you are just casually wearing it... in the hottest way possible...
"Hi, Jake."
Holy mother of sweet baby Jesus.
He was about to sin and he will enjoy every minute of-
No. Just walk to the fucking couch, Lockley, it's not that hard. But first let's find the bottle opener.
He heard your voice as his eyes scanned the counter and table.
"Looking for this?" - you asked as you lightly waved it left and right in your hand.
Jake gulped, as he tried to stay casual as he walked in front of you, to take it from you, but you pulled your arm back and held it behind your back.
You felt him huff, his hot breath hit your face, as a few strands of your hair gently flew back by the action.
He held out his hand expectantly.
You shook your head with a smile that made his cock twitch in his pants. He always liked it when you were playful.
"Maybe try to ask nicely." - you teased.
Jake hummed and a smirk slowly grew on his lips. He moved the beer he was holding in his other hand towards you, and you let out a shriek when the cold bottle made contact with the skin on your thigh.
It also caused you to jump, bumping into his chest. He used the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist to hold you close and with his other one he snatched the bottle opener out of your hand.
"Maybe that will teach you a lesson, princess." - he said as he let you go and opened his beer, taking a sip.
You gave him a murderous stare.
"About what?" - you asked as you hopped on the kitchen counter.
You saw as his eyes dropped to your thighs.
"About wanting to tease me."
"Why?"
"I'm not one of your boyfriends." - he said.
And there it was again. The pain behind his eyes. The loneliness in his lingering stare.
"Well, to me you sure do look like them." - you said with a half smile, and you lifted your foot to touch the side of his leg, gently caressing it.
Jake's eyes dropped to the action, your smooth leg was a hypnotizing sight, especially after all those times when he imagined that you were hooking it around his waist. Not Marc's, not Steven's. His.
Now he was sure this was an invitation and he will happily accept the call.
He stepped between your legs and felt a shiver ran through him when you opened your thighs wider to welcome him in, then your legs slowly wrapped around him, keeping him close to you as he kissed your lips.
First, he was slow, not really believeing that this was really happening. He put the beer and the bottle opener on the counter and with one hand he cupped your face and with his other he grabbed your leg, caressing your soft skin. His thumb slid to the inner side of your thigh and an almost inaudible growl left his lips when he felt that your legs parted more again. He pulled away from the kiss as he looked at you and his hand slipped from your face to your neck and a smirk grew on his lips when a small gasp escaped you. He moved his thumb to caress the sensitive skin just next to the sideline of your panties and when your legs trembled, he chuckled.
He wasn't gentle when he started caressing you through your panties and he kissed you again rougher, when your hands flew to his forearm which was holding your neck, to hold on for dear life.
His kisses were deep and passionate, needy and posessive. He was more demanding than Steven or Marc and the thought that Jake was so desperate for you made your insides melt, juices leaking out of you to dampen your panties, which Jake happily noticed.
He pulled away again and looked down pulling your panties aside to admire what he did to you.
He used two fingers to smear your wetness all over your pussy then he looked into your eyes as he slowly pushed them inside you.
He watched in satisfaction as your eyes widened and a small whine esaped you. He pulled his fingers out, lifted his hand and licked your wetness off them, a soft moan signaling his approval of your taste.
"Jake..." - you whined as your grip on his forearm tightened.
Oh, how much he loved hearing his name from your mouth. Especially like this.
"I know, baby, I know." - he kissed you as he pushed his fingers inside you again and swallowed your moans with hunger.
He fastened his movements with each passing second, soon fucking you with his fingers with fast and hard thrusts.
He loved the way as your head dropped back, eyes rolling inside your head as you literally turned from a fucking tease to a dumb bitch in his hands in a matter of minutes. It made him so hard, that his boxer briefs felt like an agonizing cage. Fortunately he could feel you nearing your orgasm and he moved his hand to the back of your head, grasping your hair harshly and he attacked your exposed neck with needy bites and kisses, sucking deep, bruising marks into your skin to show them who you really belonged to.
The way he was claiming your neck was harsh and painful, but not enough to disturb you. It mixed with an undescribeable pleasure that made your hips roll forward to meet the movements of his hand.
Jake's arm stilled and he looked down between you, watching as you desperately tried to get yourself off.
"Needy bitch." - he whispered, but honestly it sounded like a praise from his mouth. He smirked when he felt your walls squeeze him at the name. - "Fuck yourself on my fingers, doll. Wanna see you cum." - he ordered and watched with pleasure as you did so.
He felt as you became more and more desperate, not really being able to feel him at the right angle, and your pleading eyes and whines didn't fail to melt his heart.
"I got you, baby." - he said and started fucking you with a brutal speed, making you cry out loudly.
His hand slipped back to your throat from your hair, and when he felt your body tense because of your approaching orgasm, he applied more and more pressure to your neck. He used his thumb to graze your clit roughly and within a few seconds your body exploded with a mindblowing pleasure that made you see white.
"Good girl. Such a good fucking girl." - Jake praised you as he felt your pussy clench and throb around his fingers and he helped prolonging your pleasure by massaging that magical spot on the front wall of your vagina.
You gasped and panted as you slowly came down from your high and you grabbed his wrist to pull his fingers out of you when the sensations became too much.
You were still feeling dizzy when Jake wrapped your arms around you and lifted you up to put you from the counter to the kitchen table. He slowly pushed you down on your back and he kissed your thighs with surprising gentleness as he slid your panties down your legs, then dropped them on the floor. He opened your legs again, stepping between them and he kissed his way up your body starting with your mound, traveling through your hips, waist and stomach as he rolled the jersey up your body past your breasts. He kneaded them in his hands, watching your face, waiting for you to give him permission to claim you with his cock too.
After you gained enough strenght to lift your head and look at him, you frowned a little in confusion when his soft, careful and loving touches paired with a same expression.
"Still Jake, don't worry, sweetheart." - he chuckled like he was able to read your mind, and as an answer hunger took over the dominance on his features and you moaned when he kissed one of your breast and sucked a red mark on the inside of it, licking the bruise apologetically when you hissed in a mix of pleasure and pain.
"You okay, baby?" - he asked as he kissed your other breast too, not breaking eye contact, and when you nodded he bit the soft flesh there too and smirked when you started giggling. - "Can I fuck you?" - he asked when you ran your fingers through his hair, needily pulling on his locks, making a light, but warm shudder to ran through his spine.
"Yes, please." - you nodded and he pushed himself up more to kiss you.
Again, he started slow but as you wrapped yourself around him and needily pulled on his hair and shirt, he took dominance again.
He couldn't wait longer when you started rubbing your hot, wet cunt against his bulge and he pulled away forcefully from your lips as you tried to cling to him.
He pulled his shirt off with a smirk, loving the effect he had on you. Then he pushed off his sweatpants and boxer briefs and after he rubbed his rock hard cock over your pussy a few times to make it wet, he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
"Oh, fucking hell." - he cursed as his eyes rolled back.
Fuck, you felt amazing. Your pussy was so warm and wet an tight and oh so inviting. It literally begged him for a good, hard fuck and Jake looked down at you for confirmation.
"Good?"
"So good." - you nodded and that fucking little lip bite made him feral.
He pulled out and rolled his hips back into yours with such a strenght that it made you slip further on the table.
Jake grabbed your hips and pulled you back roughly, then put your arms around his waist.
"Better hold on tight, princess." - he warned and your head rolled back when he started fucking you with fast, violent thrusts.
"Oh, fuck!" - you cried out and the back of your head banged loudly on the table as you laid it down on it, and your nails dig into the skin on his back as he was slipping inside you so deep that you thought his tip was gonna touch your fucking heart.
Well, in a way it did.
You loved Marc. You loved Steven. And you fell in love with Jake too. It was hard not to when he was fucking you so good like it was your last day on earth.
"Damn, babygirl." - Jake growled as he was panting hard above you. - "You're so wet I can feel you dripping down on my fucking thighs."
You could only moan incoherently as you looked back at him, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes.
"You're doing so good, baby. Taking my cock so well. I'm almost there." - he said as he closed his eyes, focusing on his pleasure.
Fuck, it was time to finally show himself to the boys, because he fucking refused to go another day without feeling your pussy hug his cock with throbbing need. Without hearing the obscene noises of your juices wetting his dick. Or how you're crying out for him, begging him to don't stop. Oh fuck, he will never stop. He will never stop loving you. Loving you like this or in other ways.
You're his too now.
He opened his eyes when he felt one of your hands disappear from his back and he moaned loudly when you reached down to play with your clit.
"Yes, touch yourself, doll. Wanna feel you cum on my cock." - he growled. - "I need you to cum on my cock, come on, babygirl, I fucking need you to cum!"
It was hard to say if he was ordering you or begging you, but it didn't really matter because with a few brutal thrusts of his hips you were coming hard on his dick with loud cries of pleasure.
The way your pussy fucking throbbed around him like it was trying to suck his cock in, violently triggered his own orgasm and he fucked every last drop of his release into you, filling you up with his hot white cum.
"Holy fuck!" - Jake exclaimed as he leaned against your body, burying his face in your neck, panting loudly.
When his ears stopped ringing after the powerful orgasm, he looked up at you quickly when he heard your sob.
"Baby?" - he asked when he couldn't see your face, because you were hiding it in your hands. He called your name, but you still didn't answer and he very slowly pulled himself out of you, watching in worry as your thighs were shaking terribly.
He could feel his heart break when you removed your hands and a soft whine left your trembling lips at his action as you looked down between your legs than up at him.
"Oh, my god, baby, did I hurt you?" - he asked as he cupped your face and if that was the case he will fucking jump out of the window than live with that pain.
You shook your head, sniffling loudly.
"Then why are you crying?" - he was still full on panic mode, despite your words.
You wiped away your tears as you answered:
"You made me cum so fucking hard." - you said, trying to stop crying.
The frown in his eyebrows deepend for a second, then when your words registered, a happy and smug look replaced the worry in his features.
He chuckled in relief and kissed your chest, neck, face and mouth.
"You gave me a fucking heart attack there for a second, princess." - he said and felt himself relax as you kissed him back, your mouth tasted salty because of the tears, but he didn't mind it now that he knew the cause of that. - "That hard, huh?" - he asked with a smirk and you slapped his shoulder, still trying to calm down from the intensivity of your pleasure.
Jake chuckled and kissed your forehead, then he pulled on his underwear and pants. He pulled down the jersey on your body and he lifted you up, carrying you to the couch. He sat down with you in his lap and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch to cover you with it and he cuddled you and kissed your hair and face until you stopped crying. He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes.
"I hope you know that from now on I don't stop fucking you until you start crying from the pleasure."
You hit his shoulder again, but giggled.
"You know what? I started crying because your performance was so bad it made me sad."
Jake bit your shoulder as a punishment, but he licked his way up to your mouth and kissed your lips.
"Too late. Now I know I can fuck better than the others."
pairing: marc spector x f!reader, steven grant x f!reader, jake lockley x f!reader
tags: 18+ graphic smut, p in v, rough sex, car sex, public-ish sex, unprotected sex, sir kink, dirty talk, thigh-riding, fingering and oral sex, edging, mentions of guns, mentions of blood and wounds, drinking, swearing, established relationship, angst if u squint really hard, 8.4k word count…
summary: you play mercenaries with marc. you play lovers with jake. you play house with steven. you suppose romance comes in all forms of their differing love for you.
note: had a blast writing this, reblogs & shares are more than appreciated :) listened to this song while writing this, so feel free to listen while reading!
- masterlist - mk playlist
June - Mardin, Turkey
“Ow.”
“Sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.” Marc quickly glances at you, sweat beading off of the tiny curl that falls flat against the ridge of his brow.
The stinging accumulation of dust and filth in your eyes only adds to the discomfort of your entire aching body — but by all means, you have to admit that the bullet graze to your arm takes the absolute cake.
It’s dark out and the sleepless nights of Mardin are completely unforgiving. The gas lamp above you has been your only light source in the shabby, stone shack for almost a week. Water is starting to run thin, the main city is too far out for this time of night, and Marc isn’t in any condition to make rash decisions.
You wince when he tries to carefully smooth out the gauze around your upper arm. “Still heavy-handed, are we?” You don’t miss how the corners of his mouth shift upwards in a faint smile at the pathetic jab, uncertain if this was a time for laughter rather than reflection.
But even as you try to lighten his grim mood, Marc is distant. Distant because he fucked that job up. Distant because you got caught in the crosshairs of what should’ve been his successful plan, but he ended up failing. If he lost you, what would he have left? An empty shelter, and the hauntings of your flesh against his?
What would Steven think?
Marc helps you sit up from the wooden table cluttered with bandages and tissues of dark blood, careful that you don’t reopen the wound that he so poorly stitched with the sparse medical supplies and whatever knowledge he had retained from his time in Guam. “A couple inches higher and to the right… that bullet would’ve lodged itself in muscle.”
His calloused palms brush over the sides of your neck and wander down to hold your waist.
The notion is enough to make you forget the pain shooting up your bicep and recognize the warm ache of desire deep within your belly when you lock eyes.
It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.
And that’s how it’ll always be.
He gazes at you with a sigh before he pulls away, wiping your blood off of his hands with a dirty towel by a collection of empty beer bottles. You bite your lip at his silence, shoulders tense and jaw tight as thoughts of what-if’s race through his mind.
“Marc.” He shakes his head, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before you realize he’s trembling. “Marc, hey. Come on. Come here.” A blend of a meek grunt and an exhale of relief escapes from his lips before he leans over and presses his face into the crook of your neck, nearly launching himself into your open arms.
Marc smells of cordite and hours of being in the sun. Normally, his scent would have comforted you — musk and eucalyptus, remnants of the melting candle by the kitchen window in Steven’s lived-in flat — but nothing about these circumstances are supposed to be comforting. Nothing about being paid to kill, living the ‘gun for hire’ life is supposed to give you solace. For now, you suppose that his lips on your skin is enough to mend this harsh reality of bloodshed that you’ve been fated to endure together.
He whispers quietly against your jaw. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no. Don’t do that. I’m alive. It’s just a surface wound, baby.” You hold him by the face, stroking your thumbs under his eyes as he blinks at you, timid and apologetic. “You did the best you could. Plans always end up sideways with us, you know that.” You rub noses tenderly. “We’ve had worse situations, remember?”
“South Africa contract?”
“Honestly, I was thinking more like Malaysia, but that too.” You chuckle softly at him, repeatedly tucking his stubborn curls behind his ear as he stares at you. You delicately splay a hand over his cheek, rubbing the blood off his skin with your thumb. “Are we okay?”
Marc inhales deeply after what feels like ages, nodding as the words of affection leave him woefully. “I just really love you.”
“And I love you, you silly man.”
He doesn’t need to say that he’s scared of losing you for you to understand. You can just read him, feel his anxiety seeping into his bones as his fingers dance over your bandages and underneath your weathered shirt. You can read him even with closed eyes, him who stands between your legs, trailing your knuckles against his biceps as if every goosebump on his body would mimic paragraphs of braille, his unspoken declaration of how much he wants you just beneath your touch — how much he longs to bury himself inside you and stay there until the world leaves the lot of you alone before everything burns.
Let it all burn if that means being with you.
You’re already wet by the time Marc is pulling your muddied cargo pants down your legs. He’s rushing this — needy and exaggerating his impatience as if that would quicken things.
You know him well enough to recognize that tonight, he won’t be gentle even if he tries.
Usually Steven is rougher, which comes as a surprise when his personality is the definition of a sunny London day. Submissive doesn’t always equate to being soft, but his temper is warranted. You’d think that Marc would be the one to break your body and push you to your limits, but he has other ways of taking out his anger — Steven doesn’t.
You’ll take a rough Steven over a rough Marc anyday.
Splinters dig against the backs of your thighs as Marc drags you to the edge of the table, drawing a gasp out of you when he harshly yanks your panties down your thighs.
“Easy, tiger.” You look up at him as he pushes your hair away from your face, eyes wandering over how he then expertly unbuckles his belt with steady fingers. He doesn’t break your lustful gaze, lips parting once his pants hang low on his hips and he meets your mouth with his own.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for days, Y/N.” He sighs into you, a string of saliva connecting his wet bottom lip to yours as he cradles your cheek. “And of course, you just had to get fucking shot on the night I wanna be inside you.” You groan shamefully at the violence of his words, placing a hand on the nape of his neck to draw him closer to you. His kisses are far from chaste and borderline unceremonious, teeth clashing against yours as his nose digs into your cheek for better access. “I don’t wanna hurt you…” He trails his tongue down your neck, mouthing at your skin until he’s marked you purple and red. “… but I know that you can take whatever I give you. No matter how much it hurts, right?”
“Mmm, fuck.” You shiver when he nips at your earlobe, tugging on the fleshy texture as he awaits your response. “No matter how much it hurts.”
“Atta girl.” He hums agreeably, taking pleasure in how your mouth tries to chase after him when he steps back to take his shirt off and admire your parted legs. “Look at this pretty, aching cunt.” He chuckles mockingly, tracing the outline of your folds with his fingers. “Hm, looks so tight for me, sweetheart.” You whimper when he gently runs the back of his hand against your folds, the friction of his knuckles just pleasurable enough to make you rut your hips in anguish. “You think we can make my cock fit?”
“S’big. You know it is.” You whisper, tightening your hold on his shoulders. “I think you’d have to — to play with me a little, Marc.”
“Oh, play with you?” You nod. “You mean like… Marc, finger me?” You shift eagerly to nod again, but your actions are cut off when he abruptly scissors his middle and ring finger inside you. “Marc, fuck your hand into me, fuck me until I’m all loose for you? What, Y/N? Just so you can say… Marc, I can’t take it anymore?” You yelp loudly when he grabs your ass, his other hand lazily pumping in and out of you as he collects your slick onto his digits. “How’s this for playing with you?”
“M-Marc… oh, fuck…” You grab onto his wrist, nails digging into his bone as he fingers you faster and deeper. “Wait, please.”
“Oh, honey, I’ve barely touched you and yet you’re drippin’ all over me.” He purrs, craning his head to study you, reading your features for any sign of discomfort. Yet, all he sees is a woman enjoying herself too much. Helpless, you cling to him, back arching as your face finds comfort against his solid chest. You sob, screwing your eyes shut as his fingers pause unforgivably inside your sopping cunt and his thumb draws light circles on your clit. “Who makes you this wet, Y/N?”
“You.”
“Almost right.” He grins through a deep laugh, gently shrugging your head off of his shoulder so that you’re left with no choice but to meet his dominant gaze. Your lip wobbles as you fight the urge to clench around him for some kind of satisfaction. Heat flares up your entire body. Every little bit of movement leaves you wanting more. “Don’t pout. You’re better than that. Come on, sweetheart. Say my name, no one else. Who?”
“You do, sir.”
“See? Not so hard.” You bite back a frustrated groan when his fingers leave you so sudden, the building sensation of an orgasm disappearing as your cunt squeezes around nothingness. “You think you’re ready for me?” Fuck. You rub your thighs together, mourning your ruined high and mewling when his palm finds your cheek with a damp finger prodding against your lips. “Use your words, baby. Look at me when you speak.”
“Want you now.” Your head tilts back when his thumb slips between your lips, muffling your whines. Transfixed, Marc watches your pupils dilate when he drags the digit against your hot tongue. It’s erotic. It’s primal, especially when the gash across your cheekbone starts to trickle with blood again from how much your face is straining. And once more, it’s fucked up. So fucked up, that Marc finds himself turned on at how you can make bruises from being slapped by a gun appear so incredibly sensual. “Need you so fucking bad.”
Marc pulls you in for another kiss, mumbling declarations of desire against your lips as you palm him through his underwear and free his cock from his garments. He grunts against your mouth when you twist your fist around the dark tip of his shaft, harmoniously watching in awe together as he thrusts himself into your hand.
“Been dying to… ugh, fuck…”
A soft giggle escapes you, brushing his curls away from his eyes with your free hand after he suckles a large hickey on your collarbone. “Been dying to fuck?”
He glares at you, unamused.
“Funny.”
“Just repeating what you said— ah!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Marc’s erection against your folds, his cock rubbing over the swollen button of your clit before his leaking head finds your entrance. He repeats the motion until his skin is glistening with your slick. “M-Marc!”
“Marc.” He mimics you teasingly, chuckling deeply when you shoot him a dirty look. “Christ, I’ve just been dying to be inside you. Is that what you wanted to hear, Y/N?” Your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he slowly penetrates you, stretching you out after days of abstinence in sake of your mission. “How badly I’ve wanted to fuck my perfect girl? You see, I wanted to wait till we got home. Make love to you slow and sweet on our bed…” He forces himself to stop once your cunt swallows him all the way to the base of his shaft. You can just feel him pulsing even as your walls flutter tightly around him. “… give it to you so damn good and treat you like the sweetheart you are…”
“Please move. Please. I can’t — I need you, please.”
“But you’ve been makin’ some real questionable choices, Y/N.” You lurch forwards into his chest, so desperate to be fucked by him that you can’t help but sob in frustration and strike your palms against his sweaty skin. “Must need someone to teach you how to follow directions, huh?”
“Marc, please! Just make me… I wanna feel good. I want you to make me feel good.” You whine. The fire in your belly grows as he plants a long kiss to your forehead, your defeated voice accompanying the needy furrow of your brows. “Please.”
“I know, baby. I know. But it just doesn’t make sense to me,” He licks the pads of his fingers, spreading his saliva across his digits before you feel him toying with your clit. An embarrassing cry rips from your throat when he touches you, his cock still hard yet motionless inside you. “Why should I make you feel good when you put me through absolute hell today?”
“Are you… are you seriously bringing this up right now?”
“You’re the one who jumped in front of a gun.”
“Because I was trying to save your life!”
“Which could’ve gotten you killed, you stupid girl.”
The name goes straight to your cunt. And although his tone is far from one with serious intent, the slight twinge of irritation in his ending inflection has you desperately trying to close your legs together in embarrassment as you helplessly cream around him.
The two of you share a look — you, like an animal that had been caught in a trap and him, like a hunter who had finally gotten his hands on his game.
“Marc…”
“Oh, you fuckin’ liked that.”
Your face burns hot with humiliation. “I didn’t, sir… I…”
He pulls out and thrusts into you harshly, sending the table back a few inches with a loud screech across the creaky floor. You nearly double-over and scream with how intense it all feels — his cock, pounding into you slowly yet with such determination to find the deepest pit inside you, to hit that spot over and over again until his name becomes nothing but incoherent syllables strung together.
Your shirt rides up your chest as Marc runs his palm up your abdomen, kneading at your breasts with a new kind of fervor. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, pinching ever so gently before his hand finds the excess of your shirt and pins it to your throat. His grip is tight, meant to allow breathing room, but the way his eyes scour your naked torso is enough to make you lose all sense of oxygen.
“Didn’t know you liked being called stupid,” He hums in amusement.
“You can’t hold that over me.”
“No? Maybe I should just fuck you stupid. You’d like that better, wouldn’t you?” You roll your eyes at him, pulling him in for another kiss before you purposefully clamp down and around his cock again. “Jesus, Y/N… your pussy is — is so fuckin’ tight. G-God…” You bite your lip at him, mouthing at his Adam’s apple as he guides your hips to match his pace. “Ease up, baby. How do you expect me to move when you’re keepin’ me trapped like this?”
You huff, studying the build-up of sweat upon his nose ridge and how the gas lamp above casts pretty shadows over his soft face. You lean over, shifting his dick deeper into your core once your lips find the shell of his ear.
“How about you just shut up and fuck me harder? Unless you want me to get Steven? Or perhaps Jake can make me cum?”
It’s fucked up.
Marc hates to admit that he enjoys this.
With hedonistic satisfaction, you smile at how his jaw flexes in the dim light. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged in the silent minutes you spend staring each other down with devilish eyes.
Before you can even realize what’s happening, Marc is thrusting into you with a kind of animalistic prowl that you’ve only seen in his violence. The honey in his irises has long dissipated, fusing with the starless black sky outside the shack. The wobbly table is practically cracking beneath your weight, and with Marc’s long strokes, you can easily imagine it broken and splintered by tomorrow morning.
“You wanna know why I couldn’t just wait till we got home so I could do this to you?” You shake your head at him, eyes fluttering shut as pins you down onto the wooden surface. You’re bucking beneath his frame shamelessly, grabbing onto his forearm as he presses his palm onto your lower stomach. The sensual warmth in your abdomen is profound. Each of your five senses heighten as Marc’s fingers wander behind your knee, pulling your leg up and over his shoulder so that you're completely exposed to his will when his cock pounds into you. He grunts in dissatisfaction, tongue swiping across his teeth when your dreamy gaze falls upon his cock disappearing into your entrance. “Answer me, Y/N.”
“No, I d-don’t.”
“Couldn’t help myself. I just couldn’t. Not when I’ve been constantly thinkin’ about your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.” His thumb finds your clit, soothing the bundle of nerves with steady circles. A wanton moan escapes the both of you when Marc readjusts his angle. “Been imagining how good your tits would look covered in my cum. Can you blame me? Holed up together in this shithole… my mind just keeps on wandering and wandering, baby. I think of the way you smell, the way you push up against me when we’re sleeping together on that tiny cot, the way you — oh, fuck…”
His bitemarks litter your arms, his hot tongue memorizes your mouth, his saliva glistens on your nipples whilst your limbs tangle along the tabletop.
His gold chain dangles into your mouth.
“M-Marc, don’t stop! Don’t stop! Please don’t! Fuck me right there!”
His whispers grow filthier with each passing second and with each scream that’s drawn out of your quivering frame.
“I especially think of the way you look after you’ve just killed someone who tried to hurt you. Makes me want you even more.”
His words should’ve been concerning. Such a complicated sentence, and yet all you can think about is how close you are, so unbelievably close. Your heart is pounding in your ears as Marc’s deep thrusts shift you closer to that realm of ecstasy. He’s moaning loudly into your neck, deep vibrations rattling against your dried, bloodied skin until you can feel his muffled cry of your name into your shoulder. Your legs are trembling in the air, toes curling as Marc buries himself to the hilt and lets his spill coat your walls while you ride out your orgasms together.
You don’t realize that the gauze on your arm is seeping with blood until he pulls away.
His tan skin is stained from your wound, spread across his chest and violently dark-red as if you had experienced more than a simple bullet graze.
It’s fucked up. But that’s just how it is between you and Marc.
September - Lacanshire, England
The autumn air is chilly as you and Jake stumble out of the fancy French doors of the pub. Laughter echoes into the cobblestone streets when he gingerly fits his cabbie cap over your head, hooking your arm with his as you start to lose balance in your stilettos. Jake tightens his coat over your shoulders with a soft tug, pecking your cheek drunkenly with a toothy grin.
“You are so fucking adorable, you know that?” He sweetly inhales the scent of your hair, pulling you closer to his body while carefully watching your footing. “I’m so glad we did this tonight, Y/N. Glad you decided to spend time with me.”
You turn his face towards you and stroke his cheek with wide, assuring eyes. “Hey, I love spending time with you.” His hand finds your lower waist beneath the coat, fingers dancing over the exposed skin of your backless dress. “We really need to do this more often.”
“Yeah, but I mean, with your new job…”
“I’ll make it work.”
“And me needing to consult with the other two idiots...”
“Hey, Steven and Marc don’t mind.”
“Sure. Right.” Jake squeezes your side. He’s quiet for a bit, walking comfortably beside you under the soft glow of street lamps until he decides to just speak his mind. “You know, it amazes me how patient you are with us.”
You chuckle, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth when his eyes trail down the frame of your side profile.
“I love all of you in my own twisted way, I guess.”
Even after all these years, he makes you so nervous. He’s the opposite of Steven Grant, more gloomy than he is sunshine but all the good qualities of Marc Spector that tend to outweigh the bad that follows being Jake Lockley. He is far from brooding, but neither is he exactly approachable.
You don’t question him on the nights he slips out of bed, whispering something about getting a glass of water only for him to disappear for hours on end. Yet somehow, he always arrives just in time to eat breakfast with you as if nothing had happened.
You don’t ask Steven or Marc about it.
You’d rather not know what he does. It wouldn’t matter anyways.
Jake smiles at you as you lower yourself into the passenger seat of his 1972 Skylark; your manicured nails wrap around the roof handle while he closes the door behind you, his hat still snug on your head. Neither of your giddy smiles fade even when Jake comes around to the driver’s side and situates himself behind the steering wheel. In fact, you grow exceptionally more flustered when he leans over the middle seat and pulls you in for what is meant to be an innocent kiss. But the taste of tequila and lime on his lips has you eagerly chasing after him, the stubble on his jaw tickling your chin as your mouths move lovingly in sync inside the dark confines of his car.
It’s only when you need to breathe that Jake pulls away, cupid’s bow tinted orange-red from your makeup as he adores you in the pale moonlight. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Just tonight?” You tease, carding your fingers through his dark curls. You don’t miss the way his enraptured stare lingers upon your features, deep in thought.
He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses each tendon with a soft, adoring moan. “Every night, mi vida.” You chew on your lip again, unable to take your eyes off of Jake when he turns your hand over and starts worshipping the palm of your hand with yearning pecks. “Always so pretty.”
“You’re pretty.” You tenderly swipe your thumb across his eyebrow as he presses your back to the passenger door. “I love you.”
“I love you more.” He breathes out, kissing down your neck till he reaches your shoulder and finds the thin strap of your dress with a hearty laugh. “Would it ruin the mood if I said I want you right now?” You shake your head, lashes fluttering when he sensually drags the strap down your arm. “Good. That’s good. You are so irresistible. So gorgeous. So sexy, like my own personal angel.”
“Jake, don’t tease.”
“Not teasing. I just wanna take my time with you.”
“In the car?”
He hums agreeably against your jawline, nipping at your skin with his teeth until you’re sighing against him.
“In the car,” He whispers with a cheeky grin. Jake’s hand travels down your torso as the front of your dress spills over, revealing your naked breasts to him. His eyes flicker up to you for a split second, and you nod before he quickly takes a nipple into his mouth. You press his head closer to your chest, lips parting with a resigned moan when he litters your tits with tiny lovebites. “Don’t hold back, Y/N.”
You stifle another one when his fingers carefully pinch your nipples. “M’not trying to get caught.”
“There’s no one here. Besides, you act as if we haven’t done anything like this before.” Jake palms at your chest, tracing the swell of your breasts as he gauges your silent reaction. He moans when your jaw falls open just a bit, enough for him to see your tongue flatten against the roof of your mouth. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, I-I like it.”
“Then let me hear you.” Your hips subconsciously rut upwards from the seat as Jake kisses down your sternum. The flowy skirt of your dress bunches up around your waist, his fist grasping the thin material as he finds your soft stomach and the waistband of your thong. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. This desire to make you feel good… at all times — shit, solecito mío. I could just kiss you for days. So gorgeous.”
You shudder when he suckles at your thighs, his chuckles intermixing with the barely-audible sound of your gasps as he trails his mouth down your leg. His hand wraps around your ankle, stroking your lower calf as he admires the wine-red stiletto on your foot.
“I want you to fuck me when we get home.”
Jake’s hold tightens on your leg, lips staining your soft skin with saliva while he traverses the space between your inner thighs. “And here?” You rest your head back against the cold glass window, shutting your eyes when you can feel his breaths over your needy, throbbing cunt. “What do you want me to do here?”
“Want your mouth on me. And I wanna taste you.”
He smirks playfully. “One thing at a time, yeah?”
“Or we could do both at once.” You gently grasp onto a handful of his locks, pulling his face from below to look up at you. There’s desperation laced in your furrowed brows. Your voice comes out as nothing but an impatient, high-pitched whimper. “Together.”
“You wanna cum together?” He rubs slow, thoughtful circles around your knee.
“Fuck, yes.”
Jake reaches up, picking his cabbie hat off of your head and tossing it into the backseat with hooded eyes. “Get in there then.”
The leather squeaks beneath your heaving, fumbling bodies as Jake lays you onto your back. You’re propped up tightly against the corner, his hands pushing on the backs of your thighs so that your knees are dangling over your head. He mouths at your clothed mound, kissing your cunt over the thin material with a certain devotion that’s only fronted around you.
Part of you feels like you’re being watched — the feeling still lingers despite Jake’s attest to his own lack of Khonshu in your lives.
Do you believe him? That depends. Right now, with his hands pulling your underwear past your ankles, with nimble fingers folding the fabric and stuffing it into his back pocket while his lusted gaze eats away at the visual of your bare pussy, it doesn’t matter. It definitely, definitely doesn’t matter when Jake hacks up saliva from the back of his throat, spitting on your already-wet folds with a somehow classy elegance that makes you forget how filthy this all feels.
It’s not filthy if it’s love, right? You love Marc. You love Steven. You love Jake. None of it feels wrong, but should it?
Fuck, it doesn’t matter.
“God, you’re soaked.” Jake gasps with you as he dips the tip of his finger into your entrance, sliding it in and out slowly as he becomes mesmerized by your body’s response: the immediate arch of your back, the strangled purrs, your breathless appearance as he impatiently adds another digit. “You’re just as tight as the first time I fingered you.”
“Mmm, oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squirm against him, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as his lips suction over your clit. “Jake…”
His body is vibrating with tension. “Love how you’re squeezing my fingers. Keep doin’ that. Bet it feels good doesn’t it, mi vida?”
“It does. Fuck, it does, but I…” You splay your hand over the backrest of the seat, clutching onto the slippery material as your grip on his hair tightens. Almost shamefully, you peer down at him with a contorted look of frustrated pleasure, pupils glazed over. “Jake, baby…”
“Hm?” He glances at you, halting his movements out of, at first, genuine concern when he notices the hitch in your strained voice.
And when he’s met with the cute, bratty pout on your face, he doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck it off of you ruthlessly or give in to whatever meek yet lewd request is sitting on the tip of your tongue.
The whimper that squeaks out of you is enough to send all the blood in his body rushing to his dick.
“I need your mouth,” You sigh wantingly.
Jake can’t keep his stare off of the needy rise and fall of your tits, and he certainly can’t help but admire how hard you’re biting your lip – it’s almost comical, how he’s got you so instantly riled-up, but he understands. He feels it too, in Steven’s and Marc’s desire to front, in his own beating heart and his hard cock, that you need him. Everywhere. Somehow. And even though that hysterical part of Jake wants to deny you of this satisfaction, deny you of his touch, deny you of even talking to him because orgasms last so much longer with a greater and tenser build-up, he just can’t. He’s been kind tonight – tonight, which is all about you, with your new, normal, civilian job and an incoming promotion, tonight with your trusting eyes and your sexy dress that Steven had ended up buying you because he has impeccable taste, tonight with your dreamy sighs and the way you carry your scars from previous tours with Marc with such incomparable beauty that you make violence seem romantic.
So, sure. He’ll give in tonight.
“Come here.”
He reaches for you, surveying how you follow him with no question, clambering onto his lap with loving adherence. Jake strokes the nape of your neck and lets his hands find the small of your back. You stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, a couple minutes, just admiring, basking in the intimacy that is so oftentimes and unfortunately rare with Jake Lockley.
Then, he speaks. “Do you want to sit on my face, solecito mío?”
You make a noise that sounds more animalistic than human.
Maybe it’s a reflection of how Jake makes you feel. But then, you suppose that’s how Marc makes you feel as well. And some nights, Steven, too.
“I do.” You nod. Jake nods back in acknowledgement, brushing your hair back with steady fingertips. His nose nudges against yours as you sigh into his mouth, reveling in your lover’s quiet whispers of sweet nothings. “I want to make you feel good, also.”
“You wanna make me feel good?” He kisses your shoulder, lips ghosting over the old bullet graze on your bicep from that job in Turkey.
He doesn’t want to think about the things you did with Marc – the killings don’t bother him, but the sex does. If anything, it’ll only make Jake angry, only make him want to deny you of himself even though his adoration for you goes deeper than this superficial desire.
“Yeah, fuck, I do.”
“You want me to cum all over that amazing throat of yours? Just dump my cum inside you?”
“Wanna be your cumslut.”
It’s silent until you abruptly giggle at each other, almost because of how bizarrely horny either of you sound right now. It’s out of character for you to be this vocal with him, but Jake has learned a couple things from Marc, and Marc from Steven, which he intends to put to good use.
But even though the words sound utterly ridiculous coming from you, his body thinks otherwise. He’s thrumming with want, and Jake isn’t sure how long he can go without having something warm on his cock. “Again.”
You bat your lashes at him, teasingly through a half-serious chuckle. “Wanna be your cumslut. Want you down my throat, keeping me there, choking me with your dick.”
“Oh, Y/N, you’re filthy.”
“Just like you, Jake.”
He practically growls, “Prove it, then. How filthy can you get for me?”
You press down on his clothed chest, watching as he lays flat onto the seat. It’s an uncomfortable position, especially when your elbow rams against the roof as you try to rid yourself of your wrinkled dress. There’s barely any room for your other leg to straddle him, but when you maneuver your sweaty bodies so that your cunt is hovering over his face and his erection is aching to meet your mouth, things start to feel smoother from there on out.
There’s a reason why sixty-nine is his favorite number.
At this point, you don’t even wait to fully take his pants off. His belt is strewn over the front seats, his fly down and greedy cock pulled over the stretchy waistband of his pre-cum ruined boxers.
“You’re so fucking hard…” You coo, glancing at him over your shoulder as he rubs his fingers around your entrance.
He parts your folds, sticking his warm tongue into your cunt while you take the tip of him into your mouth. “F-Fuck, Y/N…” His hips involuntarily thrust into you, and you can’t help but grin around his length before taking him further. His swollen cock pulses in your throat as you lazily bob your head up and down his shaft. “Mmm, fuck, that — that feels good, baby.”
The vibrations of his moans against your pussy has you mewling, humming in pleasure as he sucks at your sensitive clit and the bulb of nose prods against your hole. “J-Jake, honey, your mouth — it’s, oh, keep fucking your tongue into me. Just like that — oh, fuck!” You shudder, and Jake takes advantage of your intense satisfaction to hook his arms tighter around your thighs and pull you deeper against his face. You grind against him, expletives falling from your lips as your juices coat his jaw and chin while he helps rock you back and forth.
“Tastes so good, Y/N. So wet, so sweet, this pussy is just all for me, hm?” He grunts, carefully thrusting into your throat. “Shit, baby. Takin’ this cock so well, too. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” You can only respond with whimpering moans as he fucks your mouth, salty tears brimming at your eyes when you can feel the overwhelming sensation of his fullness. “God, Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum.”
And as he makes haste to bring you to the edge, you give the same attention to his cock, using your small fist to twist around the leftover space that your mouth can’t take. Saliva covers your fingers as you gag pornographically around his prick, he’s thicker than he is long, but that doesn’t make taking him any easier.
“Jake, oh — I’m… fuck, I’m right there.”
“Yeah? You wanna cum together?”
“Please, baby.”
He fills your throat with his seed as you attempt to fit all of him into your mouth. Your vision goes fuzzy from the long, tedious seconds without oxygen and the combined feeling of a drawn-out orgasm. Jake has your cunt trapped against his lips, sucking and tugging at your clit while a dreamlike haze washes over the two of you.
The windows are fogged-up. It’s sweaty, the stench of sex lingers, and your numb bodies are far from graceful even as Jake moves to pull you into his arms and caress the back of your head, resting your ear against his chest because he wants you to listen to how fast his heartbeat is right now.
Then, you mention something to him about round two at home. He laughs and kisses you tenderly, convinced that you’ll probably end up falling asleep on the ride back.
Far from graceful.
But nothing else matters when it comes to him.
May - Brighton, England
“What do you call an alligator with a compass?”
You take a bite out of the strawberry pinched between your fingers, squinting through the blinding sun. “What?”
“A… navi-gator.” Steven deadpans, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you glare at him over the top of your half-finished paperback. You can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at him as you try to hide the childish smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh, come on. Seriously, Y/N? That one was so good.”
“You cannot crack me.“ You cross your ankles over each other and place your book down. Sitting up on the red picnic blanket, you rest back on your forearms and gaze at him intently.
He wags his pointer finger. “Ah, ah, I know another one.” Inhaling deeply, he gestures at you. “Did you hear about the crocodile who was unable to mate?”
You stifle a snort, biting your lip as you can feel the laughter bubbling deep within your chest. “I did not, why?”
“He had a reptile dysfunction.” You maintain a neutral face, nodding nonchalantly at Steven’s fifth adorable attempt of a gator joke. “Really? Not even that one?”
“I am as hard as a rock.”
The dark-haired man sputters, clutching his stomach as he laughs loudly. “Are you now?”
“No! Oh, my god. Not like that, Steven!” You playfully swat his thigh with the back of your hand, grinning widely as he rolls over onto his side to look at you. “Listen, I meant—“
“Am I that funny? That my humor ends up seducing you, petal?” He strokes your calf with a bright smile. “Do my jokes turn you on that much?”
“No, they don’t. Not even one bit.” You chew on your bottom lip, watching as Steven’s fingers travel higher and higher till they reach the bottom of your sundress. “Do my jokes turn you on?”
“No, not at all.” His features soften, eyes half-lidded and his golden complexion illuminated by the sunlight in your backyard. “You’re the farthest from funny.”
“Please, I am the funniest person alive.” Your stare flickers down to where his palm spreads itself over your thigh, long and thick digits caressing your skin. “We’ve been married for months and I still think I’m the better joker out of the two of us, Mr. Grant.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Mrs. Grant.” Steven plays along as he reaches into the container of strawberries beside you, wrapping his pink lips around one before he takes a small bite. Your curious eyes never leave his mouth, entranced by how a bead of juice dribbles down his chin as he swallows the fleshy fruit with a quiet moan. Steven notices. He’s not stupid, not as oblivious as people tend to think, and especially not as innocent, because his motions are absolutely purposeful. “Is this turning you on?”
You gulp loudly, feeling summer sweat collect at the nape of your neck as you rub your thighs together. The notion causes your dress to ride up, and Steven keenly catches a glimpse of your lack of panties. You see him falter, jaw clenching visibly and lashes fluttering as you shift closer to him.
You take the other half of the strawberry from his fingers, examining the red delicacy before sensually popping it into your mouth.
“Not at all.”
But it does. It turns you on when Steven reaches over and holds you by the small of your back, arching you and guiding you into his chest as you yearningly nudge noses. It turns you on when he sighs against your lips, shaky and overcome by the need to feel you as if he hadn’t taken you from behind on the kitchen counter just this morning. It turns you on when he presses his mouth to yours, tasting of strawberries and even more strawberries when he finds your tongue in the midst of your heated make-out.
“This doesn’t turn you on?” He sighs brokenly against the divot of your collarbone, squeezing and grasping every soft, untouched part of you that makes you squirm against him.
“No.” You moan breathily, throwing your head back when he takes his time to untie the halter string of your sundress from your neck. You nip at his jaw when he skims a hand over your chest, pulling the thin material down to expose your breasts. “Steven… the neighbors…”
“We have a bloody fence,” He pants out as you reach under his shirt and palm at his soft belly, inching closer to his waistband.
“And we have the tendency to be loud, honey.” You smirk against his neck, kissing down his throat until you’re using your teeth to gently tug on his thin chain. “Who’s to say that they’re not gonna hear?”
“Guess you’ll have to keep me quiet then, hm?” He quips, jaw falling open as you dip your hand into his sweatpants and reach for his erection. “My god, Y/N…”
“You’re not wearing underwear!” You giggle in shock, gasping jokingly and feverishly biting at his earlobe.
Sweatpants and a lack of boxers was always a common thing for Steven, especially when he’d have you at home, all to himself, ready to go anytime for a ten-minute quickie or a lazy blowjob. But something about the thought of him here — having eaten strawberries with you on a picnic blanket, outside and in the yard with the possibility of getting caught, the possibility (which you’ve achieved) of making him hard through his sweats — made his affinity for nudity so much sexier.
“Well, neither are you, petal.”
“So, two people without underwear… alone…” You kiss his face tenderly, ghosting over his lips in a teasing manner that has his body physically chasing after your mouth. “… laying in the yard… kissing, biting…” Steven lets out a long moan when you squeeze your hand around his length. “… touching each other… hm, what ever shall they do?”
He shudders with closed eyes when you help rid him of his sweatpants, haphazardly tossing the grey material to the side. He groans in awe when you spit into your hand, coating his cock with your saliva as you admire his frenzied state.
“Fuck me.”
A yelp escapes you when he suddenly hauls you into his lap. You’re positioned on the tops of his outstretched and naked thighs, his dick just out of reach from your desperate touch. Steven moves quickly and impatiently, marking your exposed breasts and sucking at your nipples with lustful adoration while your dress pools around his indecency.
“I wanna make you cum so hard, Steven.”
“You filthy woman,” He chuckles genuinely at you, palming at the fleshiness of your ass as you rock against his body. You touch him everywhere — his chest, his unruly head of hair, his cheeks and his muscled arms — except for where he craves it the most. But you give into him, eventually. “Oh, I absolutely adore you. I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.” Steven whimpers needily as you start to stroke him slowly, using both of your fists to twist around his shaft while you grind your cunt on his thigh. “Ah, f-fuck… fuck, darling.”
“Steven, your cock is so big.” You tease, studying how his gaze drops to where you jerk him against your warm belly. “You’re just so hot. I can’t wait to get you to the edge…” A devilish smile forms on your lips as he sexily tilts his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his skull in utter bliss as you tease his leaking tip. “… oh, but only for me to stop…” You halt the stroking motions, keeping your hands tight and still around his thickness. “… and take you back to square one.”
“No, please,” He begs, opening his eyes to look at you. You see the fiery need to cum in his glazed-over stare, wild and almost pathetically unhinged as he innocently bounces his thigh beneath you. “Please, let me cum all over you.”
The phrase combined with his actions cause you to moan, mostly out of surprise, but also at how good the friction feels.
Hot skin, his hair tickling you, your slick leaving a wet and embarrassing, sticky patch on him.
“I’ll make you cum if you make me?” You roll your hips back and forth against him. Steven’s grip on your ass tightens, hands spreading you apart as he intentionally presses his thigh up to your pussy. “Do you wanna be inside me right now?”
“God, Y/N, I’ll give you anything you want.” He holds you by the chin, wide pupils admiring you. “Do anything you please, anything that’ll make you feel good…”
You whine when his fingers come down onto your clit, circling the nub while you start to lazily stroke him again. “Anything?”
“Oh, anything. You know that.”
“What if I don’t want you to fuck me?” He presses a kiss to your throat, trying to hold back his orgasm when you put pressure around the head of his cock. “What if I wanted to just — mmm — have your dick in my hands… show you how you make me feel? How you tease me, how you touch me and have me aching for you?” His tongue slips into your rambling mouth, whimpers and grunts escaping your molded bodies as Steven keeps you on his thigh. “How you always make me fucking wait before I can cum?”
“Are you going to e-edge me?” He looks deeply into your eyes, teeth clamping down on his lower lip as you slow your pace. “Is that it? Because I like edging you?”
“Just wanna give you a taste of what it's like, honey.” You use your free hand to brush through his curly locks, fingers getting tangled in his scalp. “Is that okay?”
The pleading words leave him instantly.
“Anything for you.”
The furrow in his brows has you clutching onto him to stop yourself from just sinking down onto his dick. So, instead, you remain straddling his thighs, sitting with each knee swung on either side of him as you wrap two eager hands around his cock and work him until he’s a moaning mess for you again.
“Such a handsome boy. Everytime we make love…” You survey him closely, falling in a sexed-out trance with just how his lips part and how he throws his head back like it’s the first time he’s ever been touched. “… you look so fucking good.”
“I love y-you, Y/N. God — goddamnit,” His nose scrunches up as you jerk him off with longer, but slower motions. Naturally, he’s more sensitive by the tip, which you’re proven right when his stomach ripples visibly, flexing and tensing below you. “Ah, fuck! Fuck, darling. Like that. Oh, just like that. Slow. Slow, please.”
“Falling apart for me already?” You sigh shakily, growing wetter as his pre-cum begins to bead down your knuckles. “No cumming until I say so, Steven.”
“Please. Oh, my god. I can’t — Y/N, I won’t… I don’t think I can bear it.” He hisses, running his hands up and down your hips to distract himself. “Fuck, can I see you?”
“Wha—“
“I want you to take off the dress.” He requests gruffly, before clearing his throat. “Please, petal.”
You nod with a soft smile, caressing his jaw before you’re helping each other rid yourselves of your remaining clothing. Steven’s shirt and your sundress joins his pants by the corner of the blanket. Instantly, his hands fondle your breasts, skimming over the fading hickies and wandering across your abdomen.
“I can feel you pulsating.”
“That is ‘cause you’ve got me rock fucking hard, you know.” He jokes, referring to your words from earlier. “S-shit, Y/N. How much longer?”
“I’m sorry, Steven. No cumming.” You purr at him. “Not yet. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head, yes?”
“I mean, you’re just perfect. This body… fuck, who made you like this? How can someone be so beautiful?” The passion laced in his voice has you reeling, nearly doubling over onto his bare chest. “Baby. Oh, baby. Please! Please, I wanna cum. Oh, I wanna cum for you.”
You moan audibly. “Have you been a good boy?”
“I have.”
“Are you mine?”
You let Steven fuck himself into your fist, digits sticky with mess as he rushes to reach his high. “I’m yours. Are you mine?”
You suppose he’s waited long enough.
“Only if you cum for me, honey.”
And as your hand twists and tugs at his cock, Steven falls apart in your grasp. His whole body twitches, fingers bruising your hips as his cum spills over your palms and coats your skin with his seed. Yet, somehow, in the prolonged haziness of his orgasm, Steven can only spew out declarations of love. He calls you every synonym of beautiful, worships your upright body with his swollen lips as he decorates you with his devotion.
“I am so enamored by you, Y/N.” Steven breathes out, laying back onto the picnic blanket beside you. You tuck your head under his arm, sighing as he shifts you closer towards his naked frame. “You are a gift.”
“And you… are a gift shop-ist. So, I guess we’re meant to be.” You laugh sweetly at each other, gazing into one another’s eyes as you trace hearts over Steven’s sternum. “See what I did there?”
“You are not funny.”
The swelling glimmer of amusement in his irises says otherwise.
Home.
“I love you, too.”
The sky turns pink over your entangled bodies, golden and sunkissed as you draw a path of kisses along Steven’s jawline while he falls into a different kind of bliss.
You love Steven. You love Jake. You love Marc. And while everything else in the world is fucked up and a cherry-colored funk of clustering emotions, you want to believe that nothing else matters but them. Nothing else matters if it feels right, if it feels like home and a warmth that can’t be found with anyone, anywhere else.
Pairing: Jake Lockley/Steven Grant/Marc Spector x fem!Reader
Warnings: implied murder [by Jake’s hand] so dark undertones, angst, reader gets injured [assault], mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, my attempt at using Spanish as someone who is still beginning to learn it [please don’t read this if anything like this could possibly upset you.]
Word Count: 4,1K
Summary: It has been a while since Harrow mysteriously ‘disappeared’ yet one of his followers is still loyal to him. The follower in question comes after you, suspecting you know where the man is. When Jake Lockley finds out about the incident, he makes sure to reunite the follower with Harrow.
A/N: Jake Lockley owns my ass and I just needed to finally finish a WIP with him in it. Please enjoy!
YOUR POV
You were deeply upset, that much was clear from the very moment you arrived at the flat, coming home from work. Steven immediately went after you, his heart sinking to his stomach when he realized you were crying.
“Love, what happened?” Steven forgot about everything else, his mind entirely on you now. You stopped in your tracks, shaking hands covering your mouth as you held back a sob, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. There was blood all over your clothes.
Marc and Jake noticed what was going on but there was little they could do when Steven was in control. They both swore they would kill anyone if they had hurt you but perhaps Jake took that promise a little bit more seriously.
