marc knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever. there was always going to be a point where you would want to meet steven, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional way. (1.5k)
all the fluff in this one, cause i’m a sucker for soft steven and marc
The silence between the two of you was too loud. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and he dreaded this day.
“So,” You start, “it’s always going to be like this, huh?” Lifting your gaze upward, you hear him hum in response.
“He’s not ready to know, baby.” His arm tightens around your waist, causing goosebumps to once more erupt on your skin and a smirk to form on his lips.
Sadly, this doesn’t bring you much comfort as you slink out from his embrace, something Marc didn’t anticipate. “You’ve been saying that for months, Marc.” The short tone in your voice makes him wince internally.
The truth is, Marc believes you deserve better. He doesn’t want to involve you further into his life, into his situation because he knows one day, you’ll just get up and leave. But of course, he’ll never express this aloud. So instead, he just pushes it away.
“It’s the truth, Y/n.” Marc retorts. “He’s still coming to terms with,” He pauses, unable to say the name as it burns on the tip of his tongue.
Steven’s sleep pattern has become significantly worse and Marc’s control has been transient. He knows it won’t be long until he clocks on, but until then, he has these moments with you.
Noticing the hesitance, you reach out and take his hand into yours, placing it on your lap. “I know.” You mumble, tracing patterns in his palm, avoiding his focus. “But I don’t want us to always be like this, spending fleeting moments and only late nights together.”
“What if,” Marc begins a suggestion, noticing your eyes focusing on him solely and your lips turning upward. “okay, I’ve got an idea.”
You don’t respond immediately, and Marc curses himself for a stupid thought.
“Go for it, Spector.” Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, kissing his torn knuckles, smelling the copper from them.
*
It was a good idea, in Marc’s defence. But being here in front of the entrance, you started to second guess yourself and whether you were ready for this, despite wanting it for so long.
“Come on, we haven’t got all day!” A woman calls out from behind you, quickly followed by a group of school children who rush inside the Museum with wide eyes of awe.
Following the class of students into the Museum, you too share the same sense of wonder for the interior and history lining the walls. “No wonder he loves the place.” You think aloud, passing the children as you head toward the Egyptian exhibition, knowing that it’s a good starting point as any.
Through your wander, you can’t help but think back to Marc when you last saw him. He too was nervous about you meeting his alter, knowing it’ll be strange for you, whereas Steven will be oblivious to the deep meaning of it.
“Just be yourself, okay babe?” Marc asks of you, now sitting in your flat rather than on the rooftop.
Sipping your drink, you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “And why would I be anything else? He’ll love me, I think.” You second guess jokingly, catching a concerned expression in the corner of your eye.
Clearly lost in your thoughts, a child bumps into you and falls over consequently. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Immediately bending down, you help the little girl to her feet. “Are you alright?”
The child in question nods hesitantly, her lower lip quivering. “I lost my class.” She sadly admits.
“Oh dear,” You sigh softly, looking around to see no other children in the same coloured jumper. “well, let’s find a member of staff, okay? I’m Y/n.” Introducing yourself, you walk alongside the young girl in the direction of the reception, only for her to gasp in awe at the sight of stuffed cuddly toys.
“A crocodile!” She yells, running into the gift shop without giving you a chance to react.
Blindly following the child, your ears perk at a chuckle. “Gotta be careful with that one,” A Londoner comments, and as you lift your gaze up, your heart almost stops in your chest.
His curls part differently, somehow his face softens as he wears a gentle grin and slouches his shoulders but those dark eyes are always the same.
“Steven.” You mumble, noticing his lopsided name tag.
“Why? It’s just a crocodile.” The child shrugs, noticing you approaching whereas Steven keeps his attention on the stuffed toy and the child’s interest.
“Well, you might think that, but it is actually the Goddess Ammit,” Steven’s hands begin to join the conversation and you watch his face light up.
Marc always told you about how expressionate Steven is and once you got him started on Egyptian history, well, there was no stopping him.
Entering the gift shop, you catch the frustrated look of a blonde woman storming toward Steven and the young girl. “Stevie!” She barks. Noting the name tag, it clicks in your head who she is. “What have I told you ‘bout pestering the visitors?” Crossing her arms over her chest, she huffs loudly leaving Steven to stammer a response.
“Sorry,” You interrupt, apologetically smiling at Steven whilst trying to control your heart beating at the sight of him.
Yet, as your attention averts to Donna, you miss the way Steven’s eyes widen and his lips part. 'She’s beautiful.’ He thinks to himself, unaware that Marc is thinking the exact same thing.
“I ran into this little one, pretty sure she’s been split up from her class and I was just trying to find someone to help.” You explain.
“Right,” Donna sighs again, evidently unimpressed as the little girl sways her school bag in front of her. “let’s find your teacher then.” She begins to walk away with the girl who waves back to you and Steven.
“I er,” Steven speaks up almost immediately, knowing someone like you doesn’t frequent these sort of places often, and by these sort of places, he means in a room with him.
“Thanks for that.” You motion to the child trying to match Donna’s quick march. “She’s a bit much, right?” You chuckle, noticing a breathless laugh leave his lips.
“Yeah.” Steven comments. “No matter how many times I say, it’s Steven with a V.” He points to the name tag. “That’s me, by the way. Steven, with a V.”
Your stomach flips and your head aches with the difference between him and Marc. Yet, your heart warms for Steven, knowing how much he means to Marc.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Steven with a V. My name’s Y/n.” You introduce yourself, now walking further into the gift shop whilst Steven mumbles your name under his breath, hoping he never forgets it.
“Y/n, it’s well, welcome to the gift shop.” He rambles, unsure of the words forming and leaving his lips. “Not much of great value, and I wouldn’t bother with the sweets, they’re a bit naff.”
Chuckling, you approach the counter to find the sweets in question, shaped like beetles. “I’ll have you know, gift shops are always my favourite part of any place.” You playfully admit, hearing Steven rush from behind to stand at the counter, resting his elbows on the ledge.
“Really?” Steven can’t help but ask, surprised as you nod.
“I like getting souvenirs of significant places.” Picking up a postcard with the Pharaohs on it, you place it on the counter along with a bag of beetle sweets. “And this seems pretty significant to me.” You add, smiling up at Steven whose cheeks begin to burn at your comment.
Unsure what to say, Steven rings up the items. “I, I s'pose so.” That toothy grin makes an appearance, causing your knees to almost buckle. “Thanks for stopping by, Y/n.” He places your receipt on the counter, sliding it toward you.
“Thanks for the help, Steven. I’m sure you’ll see me around.” You wave, taking the sweets and postcard in hand.
Once out of sight, Steven chuckles to himself in disbelief. “Y/n.” He repeats your name under his breath, hoping that you’re true to your word and come back sometime.
Taking your phone, you begin to text Marc, knowing when he takes over he’ll want to know if and how it went.
“Kids,” Donna barges past you, muttering under her breath, not giving you any recognition as she makes her way to the gift shop.
'I think it went well. :) see you soon.’ You can’t stop the smile on your lips as you wander further into the museum, hoping to visit Steven again soon.
“Stevie! It’s time for your break.” Donna enters, snapping him from his thoughts.
Nodding, Steven walks out of the gift shop and into the inventory room, knowing it’s the one place he will have some peace. With you still fresh on his mind, he takes out his phone and dials her number.
As it normally does, he ends up listening to the voicemail message. “Hi Mum, I think I might’ve met someone,” He starts and begins to explain wistfully whilst Marc watches from the framed photo of the Gods with pride.
It has been a while since you saw Steven and Marc, knowing they had unfinished business with Harrow. But the longer they’ve been gone, the more you worry they won’t return. (1.4k)
some mentions of violence, kinda fluff, kinda angst idk
Sitting in the flat, your eyes wandered from the pages in front of you to the lonely goldfish swimming around in his tank. “I know, Gus.” You sigh, closing the book and leaving it on the small coffee table, piling it on top of the various books you’ve been reading in a feeble attempt to keep your mind occupied.
It has been a week since you last saw Steven, and well Marc in turn.
Marc barely told you anything, knowing you’d only worry and rightfully so. He kept Steven at bay, despite his protests when wanting to at least say goodbye, knowing more about what this would entail and that they might not return.
“Come on, Marc. Let me say goodbye to her, at least.” Steven pleads, brows deeply furrowed at the sight of your confused expression.
“So you’re going somewhere, and won’t even let me know where or when you’ll be back?” You question, crossing your arms in annoyance and rightfully so.
You’d known about Marc as long as Steven had, and though it hasn’t been an easy transition in your relationship, you were learning to embrace it as Steven was. Yet, despite this, Marc was still secretive about certain aspects, including his missions with Khonshu.
Marc huffs loudly, turning his back on you and facing Steven in his reflection. “It’s for your own good.” He states to both of you. “I’ll be back soon, just keep Gus alive.”
Without another word or chance for you to see Steven, Marc picks up his bags and places the spare key in your palm. He closes your fingers over it and squeezes lightly before walking out, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of thoughts.
Since that day, you stayed at their flat. Initially, you told yourself it was for Gus’ sake, he was always used to the company and didn’t want him to go without. However, as days turned to nights you realised you just wanted to see them come home safe and more importantly, alive.
Flicking through channels on the small TV, you could barely focus as the moonlight blared through the old windows. “Fuck you, Khonshu.” You mutter, curling up into the arm of the sofa, closing your eyes and imagine it was Steven holding you in his warm embrace, or even Marc on a softer occasion.
A loud scream causes you to stir from your attempt at sleep. You reach for the nearest object, which happens to be a hardback book and hold it up to your chest for defence. “Okay,” Muttering to yourself you try to control how fast your heart is beating from the abrupt awakening.
Another noise sounds, yet it isn’t a scream from the streets below. Instead, it is coming from outside of the flat.
“Shit.” Lowering the book momentarily, you scan the sofa for your phone, hoping that Marc and Steven, wherever they are still have their phones at least.
With shaky hands, you try to type out a message, unsure of what good it’ll do. ’someone’s here.’ Is all you manage to type before sending the message when footsteps approach the front door, that awful creaking floorboard that sits outside of the flat causes your ears to perk in fear.
The doorknob continues to rattle, causing your fear to spike as you desperately search for a potential weapon. “Fuck.” You whisper, tears now forming in your eyes whilst you scramble around toward the kitchen for a knife.
Quickly grabbing one, you freeze at the sound of the lock clicking.
A tear falls from one of your eyes as those hinges creak for a second before slamming open against the doorframe. A series of books fall to the ground, muffling your gasp as you cover your mouth, trying to hide in the corner of the kitchen.
Entering the flat, three men with hoods stand in the doorway. Each of them eyeing the contents, you hear them muttering to one another.
“Search everything.” One speaks up, the other two nodding in agreement as they step further into the flat and begin to pull books from the shelves, bedding from the mattress and inching toward your hiding spot.
With your eyes remaining tightly shut, each ruckus causes you to flinch. ‘Please ignore me.’ Mentally you repeat the sentence, hoping you’re the least of their priorities as they ransack the place.
Then it goes quiet.
Too quiet.
“What do we 'ave here?” One of them pipes up, the other two standing beside with sinister smirks as they spot you quivering, eyes still closed, wishing for it to all be a nightmare.
Stepping toward you, the leader of the trio kneels in front of you. His fingers glide across your cheek, hearing you whimper in fear as you apprehensively open your eyes.
“Hi, beautiful.” He chuckles, quickly noticing the knife in your grip, almost useless. “Now, we don’t wanna cause any harm here, do we boys?” Looking over his shoulder, the others shake their heads teasingly. “We are looking for Marc Spector,” The man leans closer, brushing your hair from your ears and whispers. “know where he is, sweetheart?”
You can’t help but shudder as his breath fans your neck, hating how defenceless you feel. “No.” You answer.
The man rises to his feet with a sharp breath. “Sadly sweetheart, that isn’t the correct answer.”
Before you can even glance upwards, a foot plummets into your ribs, causing you to keel over into a fetal position. “You fucker!” You cry out, the knife you once held discarded beside you.
“Now, wanna try that again?” Another steps forward, cracking his fists in eagerness.
“I don’t know where he is.” Again, answering truthfully.
Bringing your knees closer to your chest, you force yourself upright, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. “He wouldn’t tell me shit, so good luck with whatever you’re trying here.” You laugh weakly, the pain from your ribs increasing by the second.
The leader merely hums. “You’re his womanthough.”
“His woman?” You remark, scoffing. “What decade are you in dude?”
That comment lands you a punch in the face, a searing pain you struggle to comprehend. Silence ensues from you whilst they converse, unaware of your eyes drooping or the sound of the floorboards outside creaking.
*
“Come on, come on, Y/n.” A hand gentle taps your cheek, a voice you know and seek comfort in. “I know you’re in there, come on, please.” He mutters, bringing you into his lap.
Uneasily, you begin to open your eyes. “Marc?” You mumble, groggy from the dull pain in your face and ribs as you shift, only to be shushed in response.
“I wouldn’t move, love.” Steven comments, his soft smile easing your discomfort. “And I wouldn’t look around either, someone got carried away.”
“I didn’t get carried away.” Marc rolls his eyes. “Someone else did.”
Furrowing your brows in confusion, Marc helps bring you closer into his chest, keeping your back turned to the three lifeless bodies strawn the flat. “I’ll explain everything, I promise.” Marc tells you softly, his hand still palmed on your cheek, feeling your tears coated with dried blood.
“We’re really sorry, Y/n.” Steven tells you, tears brimming in his eyes at the sight of you all bloodied up. “Marc knows now, he, he should’ve explained everything.” He stumbles over his words, feeling the lump in his throat rising further up.
Lifting your hand up weakly, you rest it on his cheek with a gentle smile. “I know,” You mutter. “he’s got a lot of explaining to do.” A weak laugh passes through your lips, easing Steven’s pained expression. “Thank you though.”
“You’re our girl, doll.” Marc regards with a light shrug, his hand now resting on your waist lightly, not wanting to risk hurting you. “It’s what we do for the girl we love.” He admits, unable to stop the words from falling.
Feeling Marc tense up, you lean back in his embrace. “You falling for me, Spector?” You tease knowingly, and before he can respond, you lean closer to his lips. “'Cause I might be falling for you too.”
Internally, Steven is clapping his hands in excitement whilst Marc mentally freezes, leaving Jake to front momentarily.
“He’s happy to know, mi amor.” Jake chuckles, watching you tilt back in pure bewilderment. “Allow me to introduce myself, the creator of that mess, Jake Lockley, Princessa.”
Summary:Alternatively titled: “Fuck You To Sleep”.
Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader
Word count:1.5K
Warning: PWP, dirty talking, mutual masturbation, fingering, hand job, unprotected p in v, side-way tango, stomach bulge, male ejaculation
A/N:I didn’t plan to write another Marc’s filth, but @fluffyprettykitty inspired me ahaha! Everyone say thank you to Selene! Literally, this is just PWP. If you enjoy this brain rot, please reblog and comment. I greatly, greatly appreciate it so much! No beta, so any mistakes I missed, are mine.
***Do not copy, repost, or translate my works without permission
You cannot sleep.
You have been tossing and turning for an hour now, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. One minute you were covered in the comforter, the next you found yourself kicking the thing off of you. Marc has been noticing it too as he was still on his phone, going through his clients’ emails. It doesn’t bother him as much as it’s more of his worrying about your irregular sleep schedule.
He is aware that he’s partially responsible for it as well since he got back from Cairo as he is trying to get over his own jet lag.
Another huff coming out of your mouth pulls Marc away from his “reading”.
“That’s it,” he mutters before turning and pulling you back till you are flushed against him. Your ass is flushed against his groin. His thick thigh drapes over you, trapping you in place. Your head tucks beneath his chin. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you feel his warmness radiate off of him. You can feel yourself become hyper-aware of his presence, especially by the undeniable throbbing of your pussy, thinking about how his dick would feel rubbing against you.
SUMMARY:You had your own demons you needed to deal with on a daily basis. It was a good thing you had Steven, Marc, Jake, and even Khonsu to help you elevate your symptoms from time to time. PROMPT(S): “against the window? are you insane?”; “I thought we’d agreed to share her” CHARACTERS:Steven Grant x Wife!Reader; Marc Spector x Wife!Reader; Jake Lockley x Wife!Readerl; Khonshu x Reader WARNINGS: Smut. Unprotected P in V. Choking. Slight Exhibitionism. Creampie. Violence. Assault. Unhealthy Mental State. Marital Arguments. Shitty Work-Life Balance. Asshole Co-workers. Khonshu being…Khonshu. WORDS:6,218 REQUESTED BY: @emmy626 A/N: Holy fuck was this long. Thought about separating each one of the boys for this one and a crack! one for Khonshu since I’m still a coward to write monster fucking with that man–but soon. real soon. Hope you guys enjoy~
The thing about Steven was how gentle he could be, sassy at times, but oh so gentle when it comes to you. Now that most of the blackouts were resolved and understood, things in your shared apartment were more stable–at least for the most part. When you’ve met his other alters, you’ve learned to accept him for who he was, for all of who everyone was. Khonsu on the other hand, it took a while for you to accept him as part of the whole setup up, he might not be an alter, but there were times where the God of the Moon and Time.
You loved Steven, loved every single thing about him. Loved all his alternates the same way as him. Equally and irrevocably. It was a part of him that you can never leave without just as much as he could never.
“Brought you chocolates.”
A smile broke from your lips the moment you stepped out of your office and he was the first person you had come face to face with. A box of chocolate in his grasp. His gentle smile resting on his features. His fluffy hair resting on his forehead and you were already aching to just brush your hands through them. Stepping closer to him, your free hand come to hold onto his own free hand as the both of you made your walk towards his apartment.
“How was work?” He inquired.
“Same old, same old.” You sighed, not wanting to tell Steven about how much of an ass your boss was and how every single one of your co-workers were leaving their tasks for you to finish up while they continue on with their daily gossiping. It was getting on your nerves but you didn’t have it in you to say anything–the pay was good, but it was getting too much some days. “Just happy I got to be with you for the weekend.”
You were actually excited. Not only because you have the entire weekend to spend with your husband, but the fact that this weekend would mark your one year anniversary since you’ve two gotten married. Being to have him all to yourself was all you could ever need for now. You wrapped your tired arm around his waist, head resting on his shoulder as you both continued on your way back to your apartment. It was quite a long walk, better to have taken the bus, but you just wanted to spend some time with your husband instead of dealing with other cranky workers on their way home.
In the chaos of your shared apartment, you felt most at peace. Placing the box of chocolate your husband had given you on the table. You had made your way towards where your husband was in the kitchen. His focus had been on preparing tea for the both of you while you unwind for the weekend. You slipped your arms around his waist, relishing in his warmth and enjoying just being able to touch him like you did right now.
“You want to talk about it, Love?” He inquired to which had been how you both found yourselves cuddled on the sofa, ignoring the growing cold tea on the coffee table.
You finally spoke about your day, how much of a shitty people you had the misfortune of working with. You continued on with explaining how their constant ridiculing affected you mentally. You both needed the money, with the both of you wanting to save before you finally start a family, quitting was not an option. Not with the things going on with Steve and the rest of his alters.
Your husband listened, never once interrupting you, lips kissing your forehead whenever you felt the most frustrated during the anecdotes of today’s work day as well as the nightmare of the past few weeks. His hands rubbed against your back, nails gently scratching against your back. When you no longer spoke, your face nestled against the crook of his neck, you tried to fight of the stress and it was in this moment your husband had pulled you on top of him, arms wrapped around you. The warmth of his touch slowly but surely elevating everything that has happened throughout the day.
In the silence, things turn more heated as you kissed him–hoping to forget the rest of the week and try as you possibly could to just focus on your husband. To act like you were just newly weds all over again. The life that was always been simple, the promises and the plans you had made for each other, the domestic bliss of your every day life with him.
“Come on Stevie, go harder on me. I won’t break.” You moaned, trying to urge your husband to fuck you harder on the sofa, but the fear in his eyes of hurting you still present in his features. This was your love, the man that would do anything and everything in his life to ensure you wellbeing was prioritized. It made you fall and fall more in love with him–but this moment, all you needed was to be fucked, thoroughly so.
“No.” He continue to refuse, his hips more dangerously slow this time. “Please, take it slow and let me love you like you deserve to be loved.”
Before you could plead for him, he thrusted inside of you up to the hilt taking the breath right out of you in the process.
His hands cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss. His movement continued on to be slow with an even pace. Ramming you right into the sofa, tears slowly ran down your cheeks at all of this pent up sensation you were feeling. The shitty weeks you had at work, how you never felt you were worth shit because of them–to this, to the look on your husband’s eyes as he continuous to fuck you to whisper you praises, about the things you had never seen about yourself that he could see. He appreciates and hopes to God each day that you will never tire of.
“Come for me, Love.” He pleaded against your lips, his movement growing faster, the sensation of his cock sliding in and out, exactly where you need him to be. “Let go.”
And you did, releasing in time for him to spill himself deep inside you. The sensation and all that the both of you had planned for the weekend finally placed you at ease. Pulling him on top of you, you could only smile, relieved to have this–to have him.
“You’ll have your time with her.” You heard your husband muttered making you turn to face him, amused with what he was arguing with his other alters this time.
“What is it this time?” You asked, rubbing his back, legs wrapped around his waist, still not prepared to have him pull away from you.
“Jake said, and I quote: ‘I thought we’d agreed to share her’, needy bunch they are.” He muttered making you giggle and pepper your husband’s face with kisses.
“Give me a few more minutes and you could share me all you want for the weekend.” You assured him already feeling him harden back all over again for you.
“Why don’t you say that to my face again instead.”
Mid-argument, you wouldn’t think Marc would front–but here he stood after you spoke the things you know you didn’t even mean. The deep frown rested on his lips as he sat on the single-seat sofa in front of you. Arms crossed against his chest, legs spread wide and with you still standing he intimidated you to a fault. You didn’t even know how the argument with your husband started. You were in the last leg of your patience when it comes to your co-workers, Steven wasn’t helping as he continued to insist on you quitting. You couldn’t not after things with whatever he was dealing with his alters aren’t making much of a progress and your work was the only stable things the both of you had for a while.
It was questions about how he could provide for the two of you now, as he was banned from the National Museum after the stunt he pulled and you were certain he was blacklisted everywhere else within a 5-mile radius because of a bird brain for a God that fucked everything up for the both of them. You were angry, rightfully so for the people around you, but Steve didn’t deserve it, now that you’re facing Marc instead of him, you realized it as well.
You were quiet now, all the outburst you had in you had magically faded away. Embarrassment was quick to replaced all the anger you’ve felt.
“You got two options, either you calm down and we talk this through or keep talking and I fuck you into submission. Either option works for me and Steve doesn’t seem to mind either way with the way you were talking to him.”
You blinked, unprepared still for Marc to face you now.
“I’d like to see you make me, Spector.” Your brain was yet to filter your stupidity and you found yourself manhandled by the man in one fluid motion.
Clothes torn up, naked and edged for the life out of you, this was the last thing you would have expected Marc to do with you.
“Hands against the window, Y/N.” His order held no room for argument, but the fact that you were naked and could barely stand on your two feet after his torturous tongue and finger brought you over and over to the edge without any hope of end once again pulled the filter between your brain and your mouth.
“Against the window? Are you insane?” You questioned and Marc was quick to shove you face first into the glass window. A part of you was thankful your shared apartment was a good few floors up and the only chance either of you would get caught in this situation was if they looked up and focused on your floor’s window.
The busy street of people heading home could not be bothered and you hope it would stay that way for whatever your husband has planned for you.
Hands resting against the cool window, you waited with bated breath for what he would do. His rough hands gently nudged you forward until you’re practically glued to the floor ceiling window. You shivered at the sensation of the cold window against your nipples. Before you could turn to see what he has planned, the radiating pain against your scalp had your full attention as Marc fisted your hair and maneuvered your head until your cheek was smooshed against the window.
“Are you gonna continue to be difficult, Baby?” He inquired, the head of his cock lined against your entrance but he was yet to make any action of slipping in. “Because I can do this all day and not even break a sweat?”
You refused to say another word, not trusting yourself to say the right thing and stop the torture that was of your own doing. Instead, you shook your head, wanting to stop the never ending torture your husband was willing to throw at you without hesitation.
“Use your damn words, you love to use it to hurt us, remember?”
The first line of sob escaped your lips now. You didn’t mean to hurt them, most especially Steven. You were projecting the anger you had from work to him, to everyone of them and it was finally coming to hit you in full force. You didn’t mean to hurt any of them, it was never your intention. And you just found yourself crying and but unable to tell all three of them how sorry you were and how you would be compromising when the opportunity to do so finally arises.
Marc had now wrapped his arms around your torso, slipping deep inside you and a whimper was there to replace your sob. Relief of finally being able to feel him inside you. The familiar sting of his cock stretching you to your limit was slowly but surely helping you out of the darkest part of your own mind. Hands holding onto your waist as he continued to shove himself deep inside you.
All the anger and tribulation you had felt for the day had slowly faded away and your mind was brought back to the present. To this man, whose one and only intention in your relationship was to make you safe, happy, and sane to live the day to day as the world might see it fit.
His hips continued on slamming onto you, every intention on splitting you in half for all you were worth.
Your breath continued to fog against the window, no longer did you feel self-conscious with the little fact that there was a possibility someone could see the both of you.
Slowly, you could find yourself creeping into the familiar release, but as you felt your wall begin to tighten his movement begin to slow and you found yourself sobbing for him. Pleading for him for your release but it was left in deaf ears as he slowed his pace. He pulls out and you felt him move away from you, the absence of his warmth brought you further into tears now at this point. But you didn’t move, no longer had any fight in you nor did you have any voice of protest to make.
You closed your eyes, listening for anything to give you a clue of your husband’s whereabouts, for whatever plan he might have for you. You didn’t have the strength to move, to turn and see him and prepare yourself for what he has left for you.
“What does it feel like when you don’t have any control of yourself and of the situation that could be easily resolved with the right communication? Fucking hurts doesn’t it?” Marc inquired. “Now think what I feel, what Steven feels, hell, even Jake is quiet when you said what you said.” he spat.
“I’m sorry.” The two words was all you needed to say before you were pulled back into your husband’s arms finally pulling you in for the first kiss since the whole argument started. “I didn’t mean to…it’s just everything and everyone and I don’t know what I need to handle first.”
You continued to sob in the arms of your husband. He continued on to kiss you, slowly growing faint as he clung to you just as much as you did to him. He had his eyes closed now. A sigh of relief finally escaping his lips as he settled at you.
“We can’t keep doing this, you can’t keep using Steven as a punching bag when shit happens at work. We’re here to listen, you know we are always here for you because we love you, through sickness and health, till death takes me first.” He points out.
You found yourself snorting at his words, there was always this never ending joke between all four of you that they were far too certain with the fact that they would die first–may it be from whatever mission or job they might find themselves involved in, or whatever crazy illness or curse Khonshu might throw at them if he doesn’t get what he wants. It scares you sometimes when you are alone at home and they are out somewhere, the reality of it actually happening–and yet you continue to choose to be a shitty wife just for the hell of it.
“I promise to communicate more.” You whisphered after a moment. Finally having the words to say what you needed to. “I’ll try and take less shifts if I can so I don’t stress myself out.”
“Good.” He smirked eyes opening back up before he held you up by your thighs and thrusted into you, back slammed against the window and you feared that his strength could get the better of him.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself as he finally returned to his former steady pace and from the way his brown eyes grow black as he was ready to chase his own release along with your own. Your breast squished against his chest as he practically glued himself to you as he continued to fuck your through the window. His breath grows rugged now, warmth fanning against your cheeks as you whimpered at the brutal pace that was bringing you right back up to the peak.
“Don’t you fucking dare stop, Spector.” You threatened before you finally stilled, muscles clenched, milking him for all it was worth. Relief washed over you, finally slipping into your much needed release.
“Fuck.” He growled spilling deep inside you, before halting all together and resting most of his weight on you. “Promise me you’re not gonna make Steven pull away.” he whispered.
“Promise.” You whispered, nuzzling against the crook of his neck. A promise you were now more than willing to make.
Unlike Steven and Marc, Jake wasn’t about to stand around and let everyone step all over you. Nah, if anyone fucks with his girl, he fucked them right back. He didn’t know exactly how it happened, but with him fronting and assigned to fetch you from your office, it was the biggest mistake Marc and Steven had ever decided to do for the day.
Unlike Marc or Steven–especially Steven, his eyes was not only focused on you the moment you had stepped out of the doors. He had eyes everywhere. He notices the smallest of details that Marc or Steven might have disregarded because of their focus solely on you. But not him, he loved you, adored you and the only woman he could openly admit he was more than willing to worship for as long as he was alive. He saw the smallest nudge one of your co-workers had done that almost had you missing your step had he not been quick enough to catch you.
He doesn’t say much about what had happened, but he knew you didn’t want to acknowledge it as much and fearing he might make a scene that would ruin whatever reputation you still had in the office you work in. But he remembers faces, got a few people he knows that might help with putting a name to those faces. He will deal with it later, his attention was solely focus on you at this point.
“How’s work, Mi Amor?” He inquired, face softening with how you were quick to wrap your arms around his torso–ignoring the fact that the both of you were still standing in the middle of the reception hall.
“Tiring, but got shorter shifts for the next few months.” You explained against his chest, pulling away an inch to crane your head to look right up at him. “Can’t say the same for the rest of the colleagues that need to pick up what I’ll leave behind.” You shrugged.
“Fuck them.” Jake spoke without an ounce of hesitation in his words, caring less now at this point if anyone in your office hears you.
“Now we know who she’s spreading her legs for and why she’s slacking.”
Just like lighting, he moved, quick to place his hand around the man’s throat. He could deal with you telling how much of a piece of shit your co-workers were. He could deal with how they constantly throw most of their own work right at you because you could and you wanted peace to remain in the office. But this, the filth in the man’s words was the last thing he wanted to hear–the last thing he wanted you to hear.
“Jake, don’t.” You pleaded, holding on to his hand that still held onto the poor sorry ass excuse of a man by the throat, one single squeeze and he could break his neck without much of an effort.
“What’s your fucking name?” Jake questioned, eyes solely focused on the man. The man who–from the wet puddle that formed on the floor and the wretched stench after, had pissed and shit himself. “Make me wait another second and I’m gonna make sure no one fucking recognizes your body when I’m done with you.”
“Greg.” The bastard whimpered. No longer was there the bravado from his initial statement.
“Here’s what’s gonna fucking happen, Greg. You and everyone that is in the fucking vicinity of my wife will not harm even a single hair on her fucking body, you will not speak shit that you do not even know about her, and the next time my wife comes home with tears in her eyes because you and the rest of your fucking flock of clowns that can’t do their work properly–we’re gonna have a talk.” Jake’s threats were what aroused both Marc and Steven out of whatever slumber the might have and what a fucking way to wake up to. Him, in the brink of breaking your co-worker’s neck for your honor.
Hearing no verbal confirmation, he cracked his free hand, ready to beat him up just to get a point, but the piece of shit was practically crying and agreeing to whatever condition he might have and apologizing to you for all the shit he has put you through.
“Get out of my face, You puta.” He spat finally letting go of the man’s neck and watching him make a run for it.
The next thing he knows, he was held by the ear by you. Blushing profusely for the incident.
“Are you fucking serious, Lockley?” You snapped, dragging him out of the reception and into the busy streets of London, by the ear of all places.
“Gotta protect what’s mine.” He muttered rubbing his ear as soon as you let go.
“Protect me? You were practically pissing at me for your territory.” You snapped, hands up in the air in your frustration. “I don’t even fucking know if I have anything to go back to in the morning because of your stunt.”
What he failed to tell you, and the rest of his alters was the small little fact that he knows your boss. And all the shit he’s gotten himself involved with over the years, firing you would be the last of his agenda–especially if he knows who you were married to. He did not need to tell you that, knowing this was the safest job you could be in as of the moment–shitty co-workers, but safe from whoever might use you against him when the time comes.
“I think when they find out the shit he’s saying, they’re gonna turn a blind eye if you they want you to not report that for harassments.” He shrugged as a matter of factly only earning an eye roll from you as you started walking towards the apartment with him following quickly behind. Marc and Steven’s voices berating him for his action kept him company all throughout the journey back.
He knew perfectly well you were fuming, but not enough to actually explode on him–which was a surprise for once. He would have thought you would just lose it in the office. But somehow your 'conversation’ with Marc a few days back finally got to you. Things around the apartment was getting more easy for everyone involved, less work meant less stress on your end which meant less tension back home when both of you just want to relax and sleep the night away.
He didn’t realize the door to your shared apartment was locked until the moment he turned the doorknob.
“Really mature, Mi Amor.” He muttered under his breath, pulling out the key from his pocket.
'I don’t blame her for being annoyed. Not one bit.’ Steven points out to which Jake just continued to ignore for now. It wasn’t the time and the place.
He took his time walking inside your shared apartment. Initially it always screamed that of your place as well as Steven, but every since you had found out about him and Marc, you had made it a point to ensure that they were both included in everything in the place. You all had your own coffee cups, with names and all. Everyone had their own towels, toothbrush, hell even their own respective space in the closet and space in the vanity for whatever was in their vanity table. You made this place a home to Steven just as much for him and Marc and that made him fall more and more in love with you. He had his doubts, you know it just as much as everyone else did, but further and further, through all your own faults at times, you made him feel love when all he had known all his life was anger and hatred for the life they had for themselves.
Seeing no sign of you in the living room, he made his way to the bedroom, halting in his step at the sight of you undressing. His eyes glued to your supple skin, your bare ass that he wants nothing more than to mark with his handprint.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Lockley. I’m still mad.” You muttered slowly unhooking your bra, the last remaining article of clothing you had left.
“I ain’t apologizing for keeping you safe, Mi Amor. You know me and you know my ways.” He stood his ground and the fuck he would even dare apologize for it. You’ve dealt with worse without him knowing.
“If I told you to kill someone, you won’t hesitate will you?” Your question was rhetorical but his silence was enough of an answer to your question. “Oh my god, that’s not how it works in life, Jake.”
“You spread your legs to me when I damn well please, but it is no one’s business but our own.” He snapped. “If you can’t earn their respect from working hard and picking up their mess then fear will make sure they know their place in this food chain, Y/N. That is what the real world is like.”
You simply rolled your eyes at him and made your way to the bathroom to which Jake was quick to follow, halting by the door frame and you turned on the shower without him, you were still facing him at this point. Defiance still written on your face.
“I’m serious, Jake. I’m not in the mood after your stunt in the office.” You muttered but his eyes was focused on your soaking body from more than just the water washing over you. The wetness between your legs was more than that.
“I said nothing, Mi Amor.” He smirked, eyes darkening at all of the idea he had for you.
“Jake…”
“I’m a starving man here, Y/N. I can look since I’m not allowed to touch.” He smirked knowing it wouldn’t take much to break you at this point.
“Just get in the shower, Lockley before I change my mind.” You snapped finally turning to face away from him, hiding the evident blush now painting your features.
And that was how Jake found himself in, showering in a far too scalding temperature of the water and consumed by you and your kisses.
“We’re gonna get the sheets wet!” You protest, barely dry from the shower you had with your husband as he carried you bridal style straight to bed.
“I’ll change it after, don’t worry about it.”
All that was important in this moment was him and how quick he can have himself balls deep inside of you.
Somehow with you, now laid on the bed, your still wet hair fanned on the bedsheets, all he could ever want was this. The smile on your face, no matter what shitty thing he might find himself having to do for the sake of the agreement, here you were. With your own demons, but helped each and every part of him with his own–of the neglect and abuse he had to endure at the hands of his own mother for something he never intended to happen as a kid.
You didn’t need much of a preparation, you were slick and ready for him. He pushed himself until he was balls deep inside you just like what he always wanted. He was rough, he held you by the neck. Not tight to cause you to lose conscience, but tight enough to constrict your airway. His other hand held onto your leg wide, until your knee was touching your shoulder. He pounded over you over and over again. The sound of the bed continued to squeak, the headboard slamming onto the wall over and over again, and your breathy whimper continued to escape your lips.
“I will kill anyone and everyone that would even think of looking at your general direction.” He spat jerking himself over and over again deep inside you, the sensation of hitting your cervix brought him close to the edge. “I am Vengeance, for you and for whatever Khonshu would want from me.” He snarled.
Letting go of your neck, he lifted your other leg and practically bent you in half as he continued to fuck you even faster, dragging you right towards the much needed release alongside him.
“Come on, Mi Amor.” He growl. “Where is the fight in you?” He taunts. “Where is the fucking fight just moments ago when I threatened that sorry excuse of a man.”
“I’m close.” You sobbed instead, hand rubbing against your core and Jake just found himself watching. The desperation in your eyes as you continuous to chase your orgasm.
His spat all the profanities he could, how he owned you, how you will be painted in the blood of all of his enemies, and how he would make you watch him skin the next person that would even dare try to hurt you. How you tightened at the last two brought him into chaos and satisfaction.
“Fuck!” He groaned as you’ve finally found your release, how you were now gripping onto his like a vice and he continued on with his movement until he felt the first spurt then lines after lines after.
Your eyes rolled back as you finally stilled.
Silence lingered in your bedroom and only now did he hear the sound of his neighbor knocking to keep it down and something he chose to ignore for now.
He peppered your legs a few kisses before finally bringing them back down and rubbing your side while you come down from your high. You were panting just as much as he was as he finally pulled away with a pop and the sight of his cum pooling between your legs almost brought turned him rock hard all over again.
“You’re staying here tonight.” You pointed out finally turning to look at him. “If you even think of doing the stunt you’ve done in the office now, I swear to God I’ll be the one to talk to Khonshu to kick your ass.”
He rolled his eyes falling onto the bed and pulling you to his naked chest. He wasn’t gonna do it.
“Promise me.”
“I promise I ain’t gonna leave the apartment tonight.” he muttered.
“That’s not what I want you to promise, Jake.”
“I ain’t gonna promise something I’m not gonna keep. I’m here tonight, in bed with you for your beck and call, so be happy about that.” He grumbled.
“Jake!”
“One more word, Mi Amor and that mouth of yours will be busy with something else instead.”
Silence. That’s more like it.
“You’re an asshole, Lockley.”
Always wanting to have the last word.
Since you’ve learned about your husband’s extra curricular activities every night, you’ve gotten more comfortable with late nights. The array of self-defense lessons you’ve gotten from both Marc and Jake had also been helpful. Steven was more into helping you talk your way out of numerous trouble you might find yourself getting involved in. Your confidence had been a little better now, no longer did you have your self-doubt about yourself and with how you work. You have your husbands to thank for it. You were trying hard to better yourself and help him with his own day to day trials and being able to be there for them when they need you the most was the first real reason why you needed to take the first step for your own betterment.
“I’m surprised they’ve let you out all on your own.”
Turning from where you were walking, you know perfectly well the owner of the voice.
“Following me is far beneath you, Khonshu.” You pointed out, gazing at one of the buildings to see him settled. “Never thought of you as a Voyeur too.” You teased watching as the older God had descended down and surprisingly turned into the image of your husband.
“Still a worm, I see.” He sneers to which you roll your eyes and continue on your walk to the convenience store for something to eat while your husband was out–well technically he was here, but you really are confused as hell if it’s really him or if Khonshu is just fucking with you at this point.
“Still a bird brain I see.” You quipped hearing him follow you far too close for you to be comfortable with–even if this was your husband. “Is that really my husband or is this another one of your party tricks?”
“Unfortunately, I have to carry this bag of potatoes back to you.” He grunts.
You smiled, holding onto the God (your husband’s) hand in appreciation. He might be a little grouchy from time to time, but you appreciate that he still cares for your husband and would rather he be taken home in his own terms than left to fend for himself. It seems the God has a soft spot for them.
You’ve made your way to the convenience store with your hand still holding on to his own, from an outsider’s perspective, all they could see was normal and far too handsome man for his own good. But you saw differently from the reflection. You held onto your husband’s rough but gentle hands but the reflection was showing that of Khonshu is his form. You should have been scared by such fact but you didn’t. Your husbands trusted you enough with the truth of his line of work, and with all the rhyme and reason when it comes to the God, you know perfectly well he has a soft spot for you–you might just buy him his own set of stuff for the apartment when you have the free time.
“Brought you gummy worms as well.” You point out once the both of you headed out of the convenience store with the plastic bag filled with far too many unhealthy snacks.
“Why am I not surprised.”
“You’ll love it, Birdman.” You teased right back as the both of you finally made your way back to the apartment and handing Khonshu the bag of gummies, you had ordered him to strip to his underwear and sit on the bed while you inspect the damage of this night’s mission.
“Is this a daily occurance for all of you?” He inquired, trying his best to keep a straight face while chewing the extremely sour gummy worms.
“I need to make sure there’s nothing that needs stitches.” You pointed out, lifting his arm seeing the bruises starting to form. “I know he’s sort of–but not really, invincible at this point, but it helps me to know they’re all fine.” You explained, trying to feel for his ribs, checking if there was anything broken and you rose a brow at how the God who was still possessing your husband’s breath had hitched at your touch.
You continued on with your inspection, the God no longer focused on his gummies, but instead on the way you were touching him. How your hands would be gentle still, fearing something might hurt or if he was sore. You rolled your eyes and pushed him down onto his back without much of a fight from him. He’s got it bad.
“Get out of the body Khonshu so I could talk to my husbands.” You requested, hand cupping the evidently growing erection confined in his boxers.
“A tease you are, Y/N.” He muttered eyes rolling and the familiar scream of Steven was there to replace it as he sat up and ready to fight.
“Where am I?” He questioned looking at his surroundings before easing himself as he caught sight of you. “Love? What happened? I blackedout.”
“Khonshu was nice enough to bring you guys home.” You assured. “Kicked him out of your body before he gets any funny ideas.” You continued.
“A tease!” You and your husband turned to see Khonshu floating by the window watching your conversation.
“I knew you were a voyeur, Birdman.” You teased confusing your husband further and Khonshu finally decided he has enough and left you both alone for some much needed privacy for the night.
SUMMARY: It’s been years now since you had drifted apart from your boyfriend, never found yourself moving on. But as part of the Avengers, one way or another, you would cross paths, never would you believe for it to happen that he lives a life far different from what you once shared with him. With an additional two individual along for the ride. PROMPT(S): "You look happier.“ CHARACTERS: Marc Spector x Avenger!Reader; Jake Lockley WARNINGS: Open Endings. Post-Moon Knight S1. Mention of Endgame and Character Deaths. Breakup without true closure. Jake Lockley…being unhinged and unpredictable(?) WORDS: 1,317 REQUESTED BY:N/A
Post-Blip the world was in chaos. No longer did the world have heroes like Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, or Natasha Romanoff. With what was left of the team, you had to recruit as much as you possibly could as people with bad intentions have yet to stop even with the heroes long gone. That was how you found yourself in right now, the Recruiter, as Maria Hill and Nick Fury had aptly called you since you had started working for SHIELD for well over years now, after your time working as part of Mercenary group.
You blinked at the very reason for your arrival in London now. Your past and your present was now coming back and you were to do nothing but allow it to happen.
What had happened in Cairo had been well documented, everything that was to know about your former lover was put up in the air. The things that you didn’t even know about were also place in a single folder for anyone who might need to know about his life. It took you years to know about his family, of the death of his brother, of the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his mother and the lack of a father to protect him for all of it. All of it was compressed for everyone to scrutinize.
Marc Spector. AKA Steven Grant. AKA Jake Lockley.
As you read through the reports as you walked through the busy streets of London, you learned more and more about your former lover. The sudden change in his personality had become more clear now, the hot, cold, and distant man had another two alters that you never truly understood until you’ve read his file. It was such a change in perspective, how things could have been different for the two have you had you known the extent of his condition.
As your journey had you stop at a shady looking apartment, it was now or never. Taking a deep breath you regain some semblance to the training you had done for the past few years. Both in diplomacy and combat. You were uncertain what you would be needing to use for the man in this moment and it was best for you to be prepared to use either if the need were to ever arise.
"Y/N?”
You turned, brows furrowed as the man himself stumbles upon you in front of his apartment. Your intel had told you he was in his apartment, you will have a talk with Maria about this when you get back. But for now, you would deal with what was in front of you–the ghost of your past.
“Marc…” You spoke, trying to repress all of the pent up emotion that washed over you as you looked right at him.
Years had past but he still had this effect on you. In his signature cap and dark shirt, it just made his olive skin more prominent in the colder climate of the city. The same curly bangs still fanned against his forehead and you were itching to just brush your fingers against. Your eyes lingered at him, his whole entirety that stood in front of you. How so much has changed about him since you had left, but still some things still remained.
“You look happier.” You found yourself telling him. The reminder of the last conversation you had with the man before you left all those years ago.
He was miserable and you could not console him, whatever you say or whatever you may do, it was left in deaf ears and you simply found yourself giving up on him when he couldn’t help himself.
“How did you know I was here?” He questioned next, his brown eyes darkening, stature changing and it was as if he was ready to fight.
“Can we talk somewhere private instead?” You inquired, seeing a few eyes were now wandering between the both of you. Being a key member of what remained of the Avenger, it was bound that someone would recognize you. It spell trouble, more than you wanted to deal with in the moment.
You allowed Marc to hold onto your wrist, dragging you right inside his apartment complex. On the seventh floor, you had watched the run down building and wondered why he would place himself in such a state after all this years. In the silence of your way upstairs–using the stairs to avoid any form of close proximity, you finally arrived into his apartment and was greeted with a much more chaotic state of living space.
“Sorry about the mess, my room mate hasn’t gotten the time to clean up.” He muttered more to himself than you.
“Who? Steven or Jake?” You inquired seeing through his lies and you found yourself being slammed right to the nearest wall.
“How the hell do you know about them?” He barked.
“SHIELD. We have eyes everywhere. You weren’t so discreet in Cairo all those weeks ago.” You grunted wincing at the warmth of the man in front of you.
Finally pulling away from you, you handed him the folder that was still in your grasp. A little crumbled from his earlier action but neither of you pointed it out in the moment. You had allowed him to read his own file, for the small snippets of the array of individuals you had recruited throughout the past few years.
“You told them about me?” He questioned.
“I never knew what had happened to you after I left, I never had and I never will have a reason to tell any of them about you or about our past.” You assured the man. Even after all this years, you kept the little trust he still had on you alive. “When Maria Hill had notified me about one Moon Knight being a good addition to the team, I wanted to be the one to recruit him.”
“Recruit?” He snort finally handing you back the file. “I don’t work well with others. I don’t think they would either.”
“And it’s fine if they don’t.” You assured him. “We just need a system that we could depend on when the time comes that another threat to this world would come barreling in.” You continued knowing it wouldn’t be easy to talk sense to him. After what your former leader had done to him, leaving him to his own death, working with others would be the last thing on his mind.
“Why me? There are a hundred and one superheroes all over the world. I’m not one of them.”
“We don’t need superheroes, Marc. We need people that will help even when the odds are against us. That’s you, that’s always been you.”
Those missions you had once shared together where bloodshed would often definite, he still had a heart to make sure all the women and children were in a safe location before the chaos begins. You watched him tense, eyes roll back and a part of you, the more sensical part of you held onto the gun resting on the holster around your waist. It was almost instantaneous, how his posture change, the frown grew deeper on his lips and the eyes you could drown yourself in over and over again in was like a different sea. Darkness that you knew far too well did not belong to the man you love.
“Long time to no see, Mi Corazón.” He spoke, the heavy accent should have caught you off-guard but you remembered him back then. This was the angry side of him, the destructive man that had been the straw that finally broke the camel’s back all those years ago.
“Who am I talking to? Steven or Jake?” You inquired, hand still resting on your gun.
“You tell me.” He challenged with a smirk before coming right at you in one fatal tackle.
