#fe marc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fe-fictions · 3 months

Text

M! Robin x Say'ri Commission (Say'ri's family suddenly grows...double in size!!)

Say’ri and Robin had been married only briefly, but they were so very happy. The stoic and composed swordswoman never wavered in her dignity when in public, but in private, she allowed her cool exterior to melt a little.

And at night, it was replaced with a blazing passion for her beloved. Robin would be lying if he didn’t say the same.

They were deeply in love, even if it wasn’t immediately obvious at first glance to the average bystander. Even Chrom wasn’t convinced by their “romance” when Robin confessed his intent to marry her.

But all doubts and skepticism quickly faded when their future daughter appeared before any other couple’s child. Clearly, the two of you worked quickly.

Her initial appearance was certainly a shock, and the thought that you and Say’ri would have a daughter not long in the future made your heart swell with love and excitement (once the anxiety at the thought of bringing another life into this world, given both your pasts).

At least, it did at first.

The battle to reach Morgan was difficult, and she was almost at risk of death. Say’ri was the one who recognized her before anyone else could.

The swordsmanship the cloaked stranger used was utterly unmistakeable.

Only she and her brother could possibly know how to fight lke that. It was specific to their noble family’s lineage; a traditional sword fighting technique passed down only to their family.

And she had passed it on to her own offspring.

“Robin-” Say’ri spoke within moments of the fight beginning, the Risen slowly making their way towards the young samurai who held her own.

You launched a bolt of Arcthunder into the mob, careful to avoid striking Chrom or Stahl as they charged forward.

“What’s wrong?” Your question was immediate; Say’ri rarely spoke in battle unless it was of the utmost importance.

“It is the stranger- they fight as Father and Mother did.”

Your gaze turned to the figure far ahead, eyes narrowed as you observed their movements. It was certainly similar to Say’ri’s fighting pattern, but you weren’t versed enough to tell it apart from other Chon’sin styles (yet, at least).

“What does that mean?”

“It means…we are of one blood. They are kin.” She stated with a swift strike of her blade, another Risen falling by her hand.

You drew her behind you to follow with a powerful blast of magic, lighting up the entire squadron that acted as another barrier.

“Could it be another Yen’fay? Or another family member from a different timeline?” He wondered, “They seem small…like a child, almost…”

“Robin-” She sucked in a breath, as if steeling herself for the words she spoke.

“Say’ri?”

“There are no children. Brother and I are the last of our family’s bloodline. Unless…”

“Unless…?”

Suddenly, it clicked. Your stomach dropped, feeling a wave of urgency crash over you.

“That is our-”

“-We have to get them-”

“-We have a child from the future-”

“-They need our help!!”

You stumbled over each other’s words, the rush of adrenaline bordering into panic when you realized how much more dire the situation had become.

That wasn’t just a stranger who needed help- that was your very own child. Yours and Say’ri’s child!

“Fie!!” Say’ri bellowed, bursting forth with a renewed fire in her eyes.

It was all you could do to follow after her, alerting Chrom and Lucina that it was without doubt another future child.

The princess wasn’t far behind, the Shepherds realigning their strategy to make a beeline for that young one.

Unfortunately the Risen didn’t relent in their attack, all but swarming your battalion when your objective became clear.

It was a race to the end, and it was putting more pressure on the stranger.

More and more Risen clouded your vision, and it became difficult to see over the monsters before you. It took a few moments to realize that Say’ri was no longer at your side.

“Say’ri- hey, where did you go?!” You shouted for your wife over the clamor of battle. She did not respond- but you did spot a flash of black hair in the distance.

“Good gods- she’s just going in alone? Is she on a suicide mission??” Cordelia spotted her second, prompting you to order the pegasus knight down.

“Get me to her!!” Your demand was met with swift compliance, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other raining thunderbolts to the enemies below.

“She’s acting on her own, but for good reason- she thinks that’s our future child!” You explained in a rush, the winged beast swooping down closer to the woman who was closing in on the figure.

“What, really?!” Cordelia gasped, “That’s wonderful, but shouldn’t she be going in with you?!”

“I agree, but I lost track of her in the latest wave-- if we don’t get this under control, we’re all gonna be in trouble!”

It didn’t take long to catch up, but by the time you were able to drop in, Say’ri had already connected with the stranger.

“Say’ri!!” You called out to her, finding she had wrapped her arms around them and all but forgotten her blade.

It was wholly unlike her, and without doubt a cause for concern.

“We can reunite later!! We’ve gotta get this under control first!!” You shouted to her, which seemed to snap her back into focus.

You were shooting off Bolganone spells one after the other, your Arcthunder having run out of pages.

It was getting down to the wire.

Mercifully, their numbers were finally starting to thin out the Shepherds working on them from the other end while you blasted them from this side.

“Robin, look!!” She called to you, as she drove her sword into a nearby foe, “She is too young to fight any longer- she is exhausted!!”

“She-?”

Your heart hit your throat when you turned to her, sparing a moment’s glance at the stranger before you.

Your daughter.

A child who appeared no older than twelve…and she had been fighting on her own.

“Oh my gods, she’s- she’s just a-”

“She cannot fight any longer- please, we must extract her from this battle now!!”

You had never seen such desperation in her eyes, before. It was as though she had taken this little one into her heart, wholly.

And you couldn’t blame her- the girl looked like the spitting image of both of you.

She was scrawny, no doubt due to being a literal adolescent, unlike Lucina. She was far too young to be on the battlefield…let alone to be fighting as hard as she was.

You nodded to Say’ri then, shooting up a flare to bring Cordelia back to you. The knight was instructed to take the girl, and you left the fight to your wife long enough to reach the girl’s side.

“Hey, we’re getting you out of here! Can you ride a horse?” She didn’t seem capable of speaking, staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. She must’ve been in shock. “Just take my hand and we’ll- gah!”

You were cut off by her nearly squeezing the life out of you, hugging you for dear life.

“Papa!!”

It made your heart skip a beat; she was so little…but she was so happy to see you. It took only a moment for your thoughts to gather, and then you were quick to reciprocate.

“It’s all right. I’m here now, and we’re taking you somewhere safe.” She nodded into your shoulder, and the featherlight child was lifted in your arms, taking her onto the pegasus’ back.

You didn’t notice the look that Say’ri had on her face as you lifted away.

After all; the child didn’t acknowledge her as “Mama”…and it was Say’ri who had to hug her, not the other way around.

It did not sit well in her heart.

“Come now, that does not mean she doesn’t love you, Say’ri.”

“But she did not recognize me. She knew you so well, and yet I was but a stranger to our own daughter. And she is so young! Fie, am I not living in Morgan’s future? Before she even had a chance to know me?”

“No, that can’t be. Look at how she fought- she clearly trained with you in the future. It must be her amnesia.”

“We cannot know anything but what we see before us; and I see a daughter who does not recognize her own mother.”

She would have sounded angry to just about anyone else. But you recognized that heartbreak when you heard it; a similar voice had revealed itself when discussing Yen’fay countless times before.

“Hey…” You closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around your wife and drawing her into your chest. “Morgan is a good girl. And I’m certain she loves you and knows you; she couldn’t have fought like that without your guidance, which is more than enough proof for me. And so what if she has a favorite parent? Every parent has a child they favor more than the other.”

“You lie! I could not love my own children more or less than another. Nor did my own parents.” She snapped at you, appalled at the very suggestion. You just laughed and pecked her forehead, drawing a bashful grunt.

“I jest, of course. I know that if we had a thousand children, you would love them all equally and without question. And I know that they would all feel the same about you, no qestions asked.”

“But…what do we do with Morgan? Isn’t there a way to cure her amnesia? I o not wish for her to continue growing up without remembering herself or her pat…it would be cruel for a child so small…”

“I’ll speak with Libra about it tomorrow morning. I don’t disagree; she’s barely over the age of 13. She’s a child, through and through…and I don’t want her to have to suffer any more than she alreay has.

“Nor do I.” She afreed, finally returning the embrace. “Forgive me. I did not mean to be so irrational. I was just…”

“Jealous?”

“…Never. Such a foolish assumption.” She hissd, swatting your hands away with a far reder face than before. You watche as she stalked away and threw herself below the quilts of the bed roll, fighting to keep your laughter from being heard.

Your wife was really so precious…you doubted she realized how cute she was when she got angry.

“It’s all right, Say’ri. Morgan will get her memory back and she’ll remember just how much she loves you. Until then, I’m sure you will show her all the love she deserves.”

“And more.” She huffed, leaning back into your chest. You smiled to yourself, burying your face in her hair as sleep started to take you both.

There was no doubt in your mind that she’d make good on that promise.

Another battle, another child from the future. So was the pattern over the next few weeks, with Lucina passionately campaigning for the Shepherds to take some time from the war to try and find all the other children that had been brought here from the future. They would all be capable fighters, and invaluable to the army’s cause.

Chrom couldn’t find a reason to say otherwise; though you were sure there was a lot of curiosity piqued when Lucina mentioned she had a younger sister she wished to reunite with.

Cordelia’s thorny daughter was recovered not long after Morgan, followed by Laurent, Nah and the mysterious Gerome. It wasn’t long after you found him and had crossed back into Valm that you discovered another one.

A strange, small child who was fighting with a Levin sword, but handled it much like your wife would.

Say’ri was quickly putting the pieces together (after all; what fool would try and wield an enchanted, jagged blade that was wholly impractical to use with her family’s methods).

It was when the battle ended and the field cleared that the new child made a beeline straight for your family. Specifically, your wary wife.

“Mama!! Thank goodness I found you! And wow, you look so much younger here! The air in this valley must be good for you!!”

The squeal of excitement you heard kind of threw you for a loop. After all, Morgan was standing right next to you, the battle having been just finished.

Neither you nor Say’ri expected the young child that suddenly ran up out of nowhere, immediately throwing his arms around your wife. You and Morgan jumped, ready to pull the stranger off of her, but Say’ri did not seem bothered.

Instead, she seemed surprised, but appeared much calmer than either you or your daughter.

“Uhh…who are you?” Morgan gathered herself first, and the other child pulled back to look at her. Said child who had the exact same hair, eyes and nose as your daughter…and who called Say’ri “Mama”…and was wearing a coat eerily similar to yours.

No, wait- it was…it was your coat?

“Oh, Sister!! I can’t believe you’re here, too! This must be where you all were hiding, huh?” The young one removed himself from Say’ri, closing the gap between himself and Morgan and grasping her hands.

They looked to be the same age, same height, same…everything, save for opposing colors of hair; a shock white versus a dark brown. Say’ri’s eyes snapped to yours, realization dawning on both of you.

“You’re-”

“-Twins.” Say’ri finished your thought, looking incredibly surprised. The boy nodded at her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course I am! You didn’t forget about one of your twin children, did you? That’d be a funny prank!” He giggled, but Morgan seemed equally perplexed.

“Oh, um…I-I’m sorry, but I don’t remember having a brother.” She admitted shyly, “I lost my memory when I was sent here…”

“What? Really!” He gasped, “T-that’s okay, because I kinda have the same problem.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Wait, you have amnesia too?” He nodded at your question, stunned by this. “Wow, er…I guess it really runs in the family then, doesn’t it?”

“The family?” He tilted his head, “Are you part of the family too?”

“He is your father.” Say’ri stated simply, unable to take her eyes off of him.

This was her son- and he reminded her so much of Yen’fay; he was clearly trained with the blade just as her daughter was. And he had that limber strength to him that her own brother did.

To think that she would be able to raise two children; siblings, who could grow up and experience life together in a way she and Yen’fay had when they were young.

It made her feel much more determined not to let Morgan suffer the same tragedies that she had when she was young.

Neither her, nor her newfound son.

“My father!!” He exclaimed, eyes blown wide. “W-wow, oh wow! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, Papa! I don’t think we ever got to meet in real life. But I remember lots of Mama’s stories about you!”

“The pleasure’s all mine, uh…”

“Linfan!”

Say’ri smiled; that was a family name. You beamed softly, the shock of finding a second child finally giving way to the joy of realization.

“Then, the pleasure’s all mine, Linfan.”

Morgan wrapped her arms around your bicep, observing this new individual who seemed utterly thrilled to reunite with all of them.

You looked down at the little one, recognizing the apprehension in her gaze when Linfan bounced back over to his mother.

“I…I don’t like that I don’t remember my own twin.” She confessed to you quietly, the two of you watching him all but circle his mother like a lost puppy. “Is that even possible?”

“Well, you did forget your mother when you were sent over. I don’t think forgetting your brother would be all that different.”

“I guess, I just…who knew?” She giggled nervously, “Is this what you felt when you and Mama first found me? Like, happy, but confused?”

“I’d say you nailed it,” You grinned at her, tousling her hair. “Don’t worry; we’re happy you’re here, and now that Linfan is joining us, it’ll be all the more joyful. Once we get to know a little more about him, I’m sure we’ll warm up to him.”

And your hypothesis was more than accurate; the boy was just so full of joy.

It wouldn’t take long for Morgan to warm up to her lost brother. She wasn’t able to stay wary of him for long. He was bubbly and warm, just like she was.

A personality trait you weren’t entirely positive where either of them got it from…though Say’ri was certain they got it from you.

Pehaps that's why she so enjoye inne that night; sharing the hearty stew as her two offspring chattere on about this and that, comparing memories and stories they coul recall, and discussing tactics an swoplay like any normal chilren shoul.

You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat, seein ghow fondly she watche her two children interact. She was the picture of prie.

Though it certainly helpe that her son, who held her namesake, seemed attached at her hip and just couln’t get away from his mother’s attention.

She thought you didn’t notice, but it was not difficult to catch when she slipped some pieces of beef into his bowl.

But it was clear as day she was doting on her son. Perhaps it was because he was proof that she was the favorite parent.

Now you each had a child more attached than the other to you.

Of course, you were both incredibly thrilled to have two sweet children, at all. Though you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to tease Say’ri for her showing clear affection to her newfound boy.

“…You speak nonsense.”

“I do not.”

Say’ri scoffed, blowing off your clear attempt to make fun of her behavior following a rather sudden and passionate evening in each other’s arms.

It’d been a while since you’d both been able to have a proper bath, and after everything that happened the past few weeks, it was reasonable you’d be missing one another.

Her head rested on your chest, palm flat over your heartbeat that had finally slowed now that you were both basking in the afterglow of your tryst.

But of course, you just had to be the one to break the peaceful silence with a pointed comment.

“I saw you slipping extra meat into Linfan’s stew. You thought you were being sneaky.”

“Feh. We all saw you doing the same for Morgan, openly and long before I gave him extra.”

“Well, she’s a growing girl.”

“And so too, is he, a growing child! I simply felt they had not given him a large enough portion.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Forgive me.” You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. She huffed softly, relaxing into your side. “But you have to admit…I think Linfan has a preference towards you moreso than me.”

“I suppose…you are right. I wonder if it is due to his amnesia. Similar to how Morgan behaved with you.”

“It does help me to understand how you were feeling, before. Trying to understand why one of us is forgotten by our own children…it is an unsettling feeling.”

“I wish you did not have to suffer the same uncertainty I did, but I appreciate that you are able to understand it.” She murmured, “I will choose to hope that he only forgets you because of an unfortunate mishap, and not that…you too, were…”

“Yes. Let us believe the former.” You turned to press your lips to her temple, soothing the despair that was clear in her voice.

She had already lost so much. Even the thought of losing you in another time wholly was enough to stir her heart.

She pressed her face against your collarbone, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“There is so much we do not know about the future. I hate to think that anything terrible could have befallen either of our children, or ourselves. When I was younger and would dream of a family, I swore to myself they would be raised in a time of peace. I did not wish for my offspring to suffer the same struggle that Brother and I had to. I…believed that my children would deserve better. But it seems that we failed them…at least, in their future.”

“I know what you mean. But I’m afraid you cannot control a malevolent dragon being summoned and decimating the halidom.”

“Be silent.” She lightly slapped your chest, “Do not speak of such things. You may manifest it into existence, and I know it is the absolute last thing you would want for either of them to go through, again.”

“You’re right, of course. My apologies.” You smiled softly, “It warms my heart, to see how you dote on them so.”

“They are my only son and daughter. It would be of greater concern if I showed anything less.”

“Well…they don’t have to be our only son and daughter, you know.”

“I will strike you again, Robin. And I do not have to hold back if you continue to tease me.”

“Oh, dear. I beg mercy of you, my lady.” You chuckled lightly, squeezing her tight. “You must forgive me- I fear I’m simply elated with the realization that our family’s grown so much. Perhaps my giddyness just hasn’t worn off just yet.”

Say’ri simply huffed again, shifting slightly so that she could relax properly into her husband’s hold. You weren’t completely wrong, after all; she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t caught herself smiling twice more often in the last several hours.

Linfan being her own mini me, even with hair that was the sharpest opposite of her own…it was quite a thrill.

And of course, over the coming days, it only grew more so. The trials and tribulations that would be faced by your family were no joke, and not to be underestimated.

Walhart fought bitterly, and the dragon that would follow with the revelations of the end of days was unmistakably horrific.

But you joined together, and with Morgan and LInfan at your side, you were able to end the destruction of the Fell Dragon once and for all.

You would never be able to forget the grief and terror that was struck across your wife and children’s faces.

The very real fear that they might never see you again had come to fruition. The guilt you felt was insurmountable in that moment. But each of htem wer embraced tightly, tears dripping from each eye…

And a lingering kiss pressed to Say’ri’s grimacing lips sealed the promise of a reunion, before you disappeared into the aether.

Naga was gracious enough to erturn you to Ylisse only a year later.

You were met with a thrilled Exalt and his princess sister, just like all those years ago.

They would help you journey to Say’ri’s homeland, which she had quickly taken charge over and rebuilt. Morgan and Linfan had remained stuck at her side, waiting patiently and hopefully for their father’s swift return.

Seeing you walking up to the front gates beside Chrom sent the children shouting and wailing, sprinting to close the distance and throw their arms around you in a much needed embrace.

You were only able to pull yourself from them when you saw Say’ri standing twenty feet away, staring at you in awe as the wind whipped her hair around like the goddess she was.

You were the one to close the distance, this time; and the moment your hands cupped her face, she dissolved into tears.

It was the first (and only) time the children saw their mother openly sob. Even when you were gone, she did not allow herself to grieve; you had promised you’d return, after all. What could she do but hope?

A much deserved swat at your chest for leaving so long was followed by a kiss, and after that, you had two children tugging you and Say’ri back toyour new home.

Chon’sin welcome you with open arms, but all you wanted was a quiet sddinner with your family. A festival and feast could be helf another night.

But now, all the excitement he could possibly want was sitting at the table, listening to Linfan and Morgan chatter excitedly about all their adventures and experiences while you were gone, catching you up on anything you missed.

Say’ri watched over them as any doting, adoring mother would. Yousecretly noted the meat that she added to your bowl, before she slipped her hand in yours beneath the table.

This was truly heaven.

Spending a year in eternity with Naga was well and good, but…the warmth of your family, the love of your wife and children…there was nothing in the world you could possibly cherish more.

16 notes · View notes

v-anrouge · 3 months

Text

brazil x france yaoi is so real

#veríssimo e marc menet eu fe amo #eu te amo

3 notes · View notes

aryburn-trains · 1 year

Video

Red Noses at St Denis by Don Kalkman Via Flickr: MARC GP40WH-2 67 rolls P844 past a waiting CSX V970 with a BNSF leader at St. Denis on May 1, 2000.

The Bawlmer hangout has seen some oddball things over the years, and this scene is yet another one that we can never see again.

#commuter train #marc #maryland area regional commuter #bnsf #burlington northern santa fe #2000 #washington dc #trains #passenger train #freight train #history #saint denis #maryland

10 notes · View notes

forelsketparadise · 1 year

Text

its time for MotoGP to be back!!!!!!!

it is also FE race weekend btw

#motogp #its time to cheer for pecco fabio enea and marc now #and jev and jake #fe

5 notes · View notes

comradedanipedrosa · 2 years

Text

Love escaping one race week just to get to another

#marc……I don’t even wanna say anything for fear of jinxing it #and I’m pretty sure fe is on as well but that’s fun it can stay

1 note · View note

danipedrosas-boatest · 5 months

Text

Hey, I’m gonna start doing moodboard requests! You can request any driver/rider from F1/Motogp/Indycar/FE along with any prompt such as a song, scenario, etc.

1 note · View note

bambi-marquez · 2 years

Text

sob i miss silverstone already

#but hey ho I have fe at the end of the month #I'm so not ready lol #I need to buy some more fe stuff and actually need to buy my marc and alex stuff bc it's only a couple of days between both

0 notes

asklucinalowell · 4 months

Note

Yay yay New Year Festival!

#fire emblem #teen lucina pt3 #fe chrom #fe lucina #fe robin jr #fe ricken #fe laurent #fe marc #fe stahl #fe miriel #fe eirik #fe duchess #fe paul #fe wendy #fe andras #fe hatom #fe ronnie #fe marco #fe rachel

40 notes · View notes

dontletmynamefoolyou · 2 years

Note

Have you tried killing Damien?

Unfortunately, no

#alwps #alwps: wishful days #lwops 22 #I should've let Song go after him when she asked #should've even let Marc and Fe do what they were planning

1 note · View note

fe-fictions · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Following onto what the last anon said, I can't find one of your Freddy stories! It was the one where Marc was kidnapped and Fred freaks out but Morgan saves her and is avoiding Fred because he thinks he blames him. Did you write that? I can't find it on your Ao3 and it was one of my favorites. :(

(I've got it right here!! It's one of my faves too ;; A ;; )

There was no reason for the battle to carry on as intensely as it did. But you were outnumbered. Morgan and Marc had taken to clearing out the battalion to the east, leaving you and Frederick to handle a skirmish in the northern part of the battlefield.

The rest of the Shepherds were struggling, too. There was just too much happening, and everyone was on edge.

None so much as your husband, though. Ever since you had sent the siblings off to fight with their own group, he had been more worried than usual.

“Robin- we need to get back to them.” He said behind clenched teeth, fighting to keep his bearings while the great knights surrounding you started to close the circle tighter.

“They’ll be all right.” You assured him with a devastating blast of magic straight through the Vallites in front of you. “They’re strong, especially together!”

“I know that,” He threw an axe into the helmet of another, shattering bone and steel alike. “But Marc isn’t as strong as Morgan, and she’s still new to the battlefield. If I’m not with her-”

“Morgan can defend her. We need to focus on clearing the field!”

“But-”

“After the battle. I’m worried, too, but we need to prioritize- mrgh!!” You flung violent bolts of Thoron, disrupting the charging men.

It allowed Frederick to draw himself back; of course you were worried, too. Those were both your babies, even if they weren’t from this timeline.

You didn’t like the idea of them fighting on their own. You just didn’t have a choice, and made the difficult decision.

For once, Frederick thought to himself, he shouldn’t blame himself. This was what needed to be done. He dove in beside you, finishing off the enemy battalion after the bolts of lightning faded.

It would be several minutes that dragged by before you were able to route the enemy. You flung up a signal flare, letting the others know that you and Frederick had succeeded in neutralizing your targets.

Another flare, to the west, followed after. Chrom and his group had succeeded. Then came Sumia, Cordelia’s and Miriel’s. All positive.

The battle was a resounding victory, it looked like.

Frederick looked to the northeast out of instinct; Morgan and Marc’s flare should be going up any moment. A positive signal.

You were right, after all; they were both very strong. He couldn’t be more proud of his son and daughter, as they were excellent nights.

So excellent, that he couldn’t allow himself to even consider the possibility that the flare shooting up was negative.

But the sky went dark, and a red flare shot into the sky. North-northeast.

Negative.

“Robin-”

“Go!!” You burst past him, running towards the flare as it dissipated into the sky. Frederick rushed after you and kicked Hebert into gear, galloping as fast as he could. His heart thundered in his chest, and an icy fear crept through his veins.

His children were the only ones to come back negative. It didn’t mean they were inherently in danger, but it did mean that they weren’t winning their battle. Possibly worse.

The forest gave way to a small clearing. You noticed the coat, first.

“Morgan!!”

“Gods-” Frederick tore from his horse and hit the ground, following you to the boy collapsed on the ground.

Morgan’s armor was shattered, blood coating him from head to toe. He was gasping for air. The spear had been torn from his hands, splintered and broken off somewhere away from his body.

He was fighting to stay conscious. Worst of all, Frederick realized, was that his son was alone.

“Morgan, Morgan- can you hear me?!” Your voice was tense with fear, pulling him to your chest and cradling him tightly. “He’s covered in wounds, he’s- Frederick, what do we do?!”

“I have an elixir-” He stumbled and grabbed the vial from his pouch, taking his kerchief and pushing it into your hand. “We need to clean the wounds and patch them, quickly!”

You sent up an emergency flare. The voices of the Shepherds echoed in the trees, but they were all farther away than the two of you were.

Frederick helped you pull Morgan’s coat off, working to get his tunic off and cutting away belts and anything else keeping you from the injuries. There were gashes all over him, an assault on your son that you never wanted to see.

“Wait-” You shoved your hand into his pouch, finding an emergency vulnerary. “This...this should be enough. We can at least get the bleeding to stop. But Marc…”

“I’ll find her. She must be close by.”

She had to be.

Frederick returned to Hebert and swiftly steered around, galloping into the field in search of Marc.

He didn’t know where to start, only to search frantically for a mop of brown hair and another tactician’s coat.

She couldn’t have gone far from Morgan. The flare was sent up a short while ago...she had to be near him. They would never leave each other’s sides, especially not if you had directed them to stay together.

For minutes more Frederick searched, his voice hoarse as he called for his daughter. He had no reply.

The search came to a sudden end. Hebert’s hoof clacked against something heavy on the ground, making the beast stumble.

Frederick followed the object as it fumbled across the grass. It was a heavy tome.

He dropped to the grass, unaware of how badly his hands were shaking when he retrieved it. An Arcwind tome.

Marc’s tome.

His grip tightened on the book- the paralyzing fear overwhelmed him, realizing that its owner had yet to be found. She wasn’t anywhere.

“Marc!!” He shouted for her, his chest heaving with breath that he couldn’t find. He was panicking. His daughter was missing.

She had lost her weapon, her brother, she was gods knows where, and in what state-

The thought of her mangled body flashed across his mind, and for a moment, Frederick couldn’t breathe. The fear of his child being in danger, worse than anything he could possibly imagine, was overwhelming all of his senses.

It was the scream that snapped him from his thoughts.

“PAPA!!”

Frederick jolted when Marc’s voice ripped through the air. He whipped around, searching for its source.

“Marc?! Marc, I’m here!!”

“PAPA!!!”

Above.

Frederick stared into the sky, the sun suddenly blotted out by a hulking beast. A wyvern rider had taken to the air, a whole troupe of them alongside him. The battalion Morgan and Marc were tasked with clearing.

And in the dragon’s claws

was Marc.

They had his daughter.

“NO!!”

Marc was reaching for him, screaming after him. He had never seen such a look on her face, but what was worse was that she was getting further and further away from him.

They were taking his daughter right in front of his eyes.

He galloped after them. He poured on what speed he could.

“No- no, Marc!! MARC!!”

He cried after her, reached for her- but Marc was too far gone.

He could only watch, helpless and afraid, as his daughter disappeared into the sky.

“Marc…!!”

-------------------------

The healing tent was in a flurry. Morgan had been treated and brought back to a stable consciousness, but there was no relief in the room.

Everyone that was crowded inside knew of what happened.

You were helping Morgan to his feet when Frederick returned, his expression gaunt and dark with fear.

He clutched Marc’s tome to his chest. Numbly, he informed you of what he witnessed.

The Valmese took her.

“It’s all my fault.” Morgan’s buried his face in his hands, “I-I wasn’t strong enough to fend them off, and when they got m-me out of the way, they…”

“Do you know why they took Marc?” Chrom questioned him, standing beside his sister who continued to heal him. Morgan shook his head, remorseful.

“They saw our coats. They knew whose children we were. But when I put up more of a fight, trying to keep them from Marc, they figured it’d be easier to get me out of the way. They o-overwhelmed me, and I told her to run, but…”

“They chased her down.” Chrom sighed heavily, “This doesn’t bode well. There are a number of places they could’ve taken her that are nearby- and we’re in no state to rush straight into another battle.”

“There doesn’t need to be another battle.” Frederick stepped in, hand on the hilt of his blade. “I will go. Whatever locations we deem likely as to her location, I’ll take them down on my own.”

“Frederick, you can’t be serious-”

“They have my daughter. I will not rest until she is safe. I never should have left her side to begin with.” There were thick layers of worry beneath his anger.

You touched his shoulder, trying to draw him back. “Let’s focus on finding the most viable location, first. Then we can discuss who goes.”

“I will not be kept from saving my child-”

“But you will not be going alone.” You cut him off curtly. The look on his face could melt steel. “We’ll discuss rescue logistics later. Right now we need to focus on actually finding her.”

The Shepherds could only watch as their fearless tactician stood up to their captain, a man who looked ready to tear through just about anything if it meant he’d get his way. They had never seen him when his family was in danger.

He was a protective man; which clearly meant he was a dangerous one.

Frederick silently took his leave, storming from the healer’s tent. You shared a glance with Morgan, who knew full well how his father could be.

“...I’m sorry, everyone. We need to get back to the matter at hand. Miriel, you had the maps for the northern regions, right?”

Morgan watched as you drew in the Shepherds to begin the planning, the feelings of guilt silently growing within him. He knew there was only so much he could have done, but Marc was with him when she was taken. It felt like his fault more than anyone else’s.

He made plans to convene with his father once the most likely location was found. He hoped the rest of his wounds would be patched up before the sun fell that day.

The sooner he was on his feet, the sooner Marc would be home.

-------------------------

Night had come long before you made it back to your tent. You were exhausted, but the need to sleep wasn’t there. You were too tired to focus properly, but too worried to risk falling asleep.

You could see Frederick’s silhouette against the candlelight, pacing back and forth urgently. The poor man was falling apart at the seams. Considering the way he behaved in regards to his children, it was only natural he be so upset.

Tentatively you entered through the flap, Frederick’s back to you even as he heard you latching it shut. For several seconds neither of you spoke.

“Frederick?” You didn’t receive a response. His shoulders were tight and hunched forward, his entire body tense. “Darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot you down. I know you’re worried about Marc, as am I. If I could let you hunt down her captors and bring her home on your own, I would.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” You insisted, firmly, the response enough to finally draw his attention around to you.

His face was grim and unimpressed with the situation. But his anxiety betrayed the anger in his eyes.

“You know we can’t risk being so reckless. Throwing you to the Valmese, alone? While you’re compromised?”

“I am not compromised, I-”

“You’re worried about our daughter and you want to jump head first into the enemy’s camp to bring her home.”

“And you don’t?” He snapped, “She never should’ve been taken in the first place! We don’t know what they’re going to do with her, what methods of torture they might be using- they could kill her before we get there! We can’t wait for a plan, we need to go!!”

“It’s too dangerous, and we don’t even know where to start! What if you choose the wrong location? What if you inadvertently notify the enemy that you’re looking for her, and then they take her somewhere farther away? What if they kill her because they find out you’re coming?”

“None of this would’ve happened at all if I had been with her!”

“Frederick, that’s not true.” You argued when he whipped around, his glare sharp and unforgiving.

“If I was with Marc I could’ve protected her. I could’ve taken her place, or-”

“You really think that I would prefer you be stolen instead of Marc? You think that would make this any easier?”

“If my children are safe then they can flay me alive, for all I care!! Marc needed to be with me, not Morgan. She never should’ve left my side!!”

“You cannot blame Morgan for this.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Frederick exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What I am saying is that Marc’s safety is my priority, above all else. She is not strong enough to fight with anyone else, yet. Her training is not complete. If I was with her, I could've done something different. At the very least, I could've stalled long enough for her to get back!”

“They were up against wyvern riders- if I knew there’d be so many of them, I wouldn’t have let them take that battalion on. Besides, you couldn’t have handled them- Morgan’s still a cavalier, and his armor is lighter than yours. He’s able to maneuver around those axes, but you would've fallen harder than he did. You saw him! You think you could’ve survived that assault?”

“If only long enough to protect my daughter.” He glowered, “But I wasn’t there, and I couldn’t, and now…”

“Frederick, we’re going to find her.” You closed the distance between you, “There’s no point in arguing like this. Just don’t be angry with Morgan, or yourself. Be angry with me. I was the one who sent them off.”

“I’m not...I’m not angry at you or Morgan. I’m angry that I couldn’t protect my own blood.”

“I know.” You sank down onto the cot beside him, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t bear it if we lost her, Robin. She’s not even from our own timeline, but I cannot imagine our lives without her.” He confessed, his voice muffled weakly into your shoulder. You squeezed him close, willing back tears of your own.

Marc had only been in your lives for a short time. But it was clear that she was her father’s daughter.

He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

You both knew this. But you weren’t the only ones. There was a boy wearing your coat and wrapped in bandages that heard it all, waiting silently outside the tent. He knew what he needed to do.

You could stop his father. He wasn’t the one who needed to rescue Marc.

Morgan was.

-------------------------

You woke up before Frederick did. The bags under his eyes were dark, clearly restless from the anxieties that poured out that night.

You let him stay in bed a while longer. He needed it; you could handle the start of the search. At least, that’s what you thought.

“Robin!!”

“Lissa?”

The princess stood in the entrance of your tent, shifting from foot to foot with sheer panic on her face.

“Morgan’s gone!!”

Your heart plummeted. “What?!”

“He left a note in his tent- Lucina went to check on him when he didn’t come to the medics, and found this!”

You skimmed the hastily scrawled note with trembling hands. Morgan was hunting down the men who took Marc. He would bring her back, it promised. No matter what.

You didn’t realize Frederick was awake until his hand covered yours to take the note for himself. His face was unreadable, but you watched the color drain as he paled with realization.

“Morgan-”

“We have to go.”

You took Frederick’s hand and you were racing across camp. It didn’t take long for the panic to grow into a borderline riot; the tactician’s children were both gone, and it was only a matter of time before someone showed up hurt or worse.

They didn’t have any time left to try and form a proper strategy.

You discovered maps were missing, but there was enough to go on that you could feasibly track down the locations you needed.

The problem was that it was taking too long. You were starting to understand why Frederick was so anxious, before. Now that both your children were in danger, the patience and time for rational thought was quickly dissipating.

It wouldn’t be until sundown that you found an answer.

“We’ve got it!!” Henry leapt from the table, his hands glowing with dark magic. “The tracking spell’s active. If we go this way, towards the northwest, they’ll be there! Then we can rip everyone in there to shreds, nya ha!!”

“Northwest.” Frederick repeated and turned on his heel, striding for the barracks. He had been in a full suit of armor all day, and had a number of weapons at the ready.

The Shepherds followed suit, all of them ready to lay into the Valmese and raze their forts. They weren’t going to get away with what they’d done.

You were hot on Frederick’s heels the entire time, prepping your strongest tomes. You were working in tandem, handing each other what you needed and directing orders to the others that were flurrying about in preparation for battle.

“You think we’ll be able to find them in time?” Frederick asked you with that pinch of uncertainty in his voice. You nodded, tightening your gauntlets.

“We have to. If the tracking spell is working, that means they’re both still alive. It tracks the subject’s life force. So long as Henry’s spell is active, we can save them.”

“It wouldn’t detail if anyone is injured, would it?”

“Unfortunately not. But injured is better than dead.” You reminded him, “They’re going to come home.”

“There is no doubt.” Frederick shifted his chest plate, keeping it firm and making sure it was ready to take a few good blows. He’d be raging through the Valmese, after all. A few hits were going to make it through his defenses.

He glanced out the window on a whim, watching the sun begin its descent behind the mountains.

“We will need to embark soon. At this rate we won’t be there until tomorrow morning, even if we use wyverns to-”

A silhouette captured Frederick’s attention in the distance. You were busying yourself with your sword, unaware he was distracted.

“Henry mentioned a spell we can use to speed up our travel time. It’ll take a lot of mana, so it’s best we assign it to a mage that can stay back and build magic. If spare Miriel for the first half of battle we can...uh, Frederick..?”

You trailed off when your husband brushed past you, starting out the door. You stared at him, confused. He was completely focused on the outskirts of camp.

Brow furrowed, you followed him, calling after your husband.

“Frederick? What What’s wrong? What are you-”

You gasped.

There, in the distance, your coat flapped in the dusk breeze. The figure staggered towards camp, in tatters and littered with more cuts and bruises than you’d ever seen on a person.

Morgan had come back.

And he was carrying Marc in his arms.

“Morgan!!” Your cry echoed across camp, drawing the boy’s eyes up. He saw the two of you running towards him and he smiled, albeit weakly.

“Mother...Father…”

“Oh my gods, Morgan-!! You...you f-found...w-why did you-!” You couldn’t form a sentence.

Frederick had yet to try.

His eyes were locked on the fragile girl in Morgan’s arms, who was unconscious. She was in desperate need of care.

Morgan, sensing his father’s anxiety, held her out for Frederick to take.

“She’s alive. Just...needs help.”

Frederick was unable to speak. His mouth opened, but closed again, taking the delicate girl into his arms. The child he had to watch disappear before his eyes, powerless to help her.

But she was here.

You held Morgan to you when Frederick took his sister. He fell heavy against you, prompting calls for a healer.

“I’m...so proud of you, son.” You whispered, tears in your eyes. “But why would you be so reckless? We were so worried about you...”

“I know what Dad thought...that if he’d been there instead of me, she wouldn’t have…” Morgan sucked in a shaking breath, “It was my fault, so I wanted to fix it.”

“Oh, but Morgan, he didn’t mean-” You choked up when you saw the sadness in his eyes, overwhelmed only by the exhaustion of his journey.

-------------------------

The air of calm around the Shepherd’s camp was beautiful and most welcome. The Chief Tactician’s children had returned, both in one piece, both alive. Frederick had glued himself to his daughter’s side while she slept, waiting impatiently for her eyes to open.

You stayed with Morgan as much as you could, while you worked between Chrom and the others to find and destroy the next closest fortresses.

They already assembled and set up a strategy for those who had kidnapped his daughter...why not put it into action and make a statement?

Of course there was something that bothered you, which was Morgan’s words when he came back.

And it was something you needed to speak with your husband about. So while Morgan was sleeping one afternoon, and you were finally free of your responsibilities, you headed to the healer’s tent.

Frederick was dutifully seated by Marc’s cot, gently brushing her hair.

You smiled softly; how he loved and doted on his sweet girl. It made your heart twist just slightly, knowing he had yet to speak with his son. It had already been a few days.

“Freddybear…” You called to him as you came to his side, earning a tired smile. The worry lines were deep in his forehead, and his eyes were heavy; clearly he had yet to get a good night’s sleep, even with Marc safely returned.

You ran your fingers over his forehead, pausing his brushing as he leaned into your touch. Your hand fell to his cheek.

“You haven’t slept well.”

“I don’t want to miss Marc waking up.” He murmured, “I have waited this long...Libra said she could awaken any day, now.”

“But you won’t be able to welcome her properly if you’re out of sorts. Besides, there are still things you need to do. I’m afraid you can’t stay right next to her forever.”

“I have already cleared my schedule and reassigned tasks to Cordelia and Lord Chrom, who was gracious enough to suggest I remain with Marc. I am not sure what other duties you would be referring to.”

“You haven’t seen Morgan since he returned.”

That seemed to give him pause. His brow furrowed, a serious frown on his lips as he thought back. “That’s not true. I’ve seen him-”

“You’ve been here the whole time. Since he brought Marc back, you’ve been in the healing tent. You haven’t even come back to bed with me in the last three days. Which I understand, and I have no problem with. But when it pertains to Morgan, I think it’s a little different.”

“I didn’t realize I…” He trailed off, looking back to his daughter.

“You need to talk to him. Morgan’s under the impression that he had to be the one to rescue Marc.”

“What? Why on earth would he think such a thing?”

“He heard what you said, about how it should have been you with Marc and not Morgan. He thinks it was his fault that Marc was taken, because he wasn’t strong enough to protect her. That you should have been with her, not Morgan.”

“That’s not what I- Morgan is not to blame in any of this!” He protested, the worry lines returning full force. “I could not be more proud of my son for what he has done. I was blaming myself for not being there, not Morgan-!”

“Then you need to tell him that. Because he’s not sure that’s what you meant, and he’s convinced he’s done something terribly wrong.”

“I…” He looked to Marc, conflicted, if only for a moment.

This was his baby boy they were talking about.

Finally he stood from his chair, stiffly, but resolved to reconcile with his child. “I will be back shortly. Please fetch me if she wakes.”

“I will.” You promised, and he pressed the brush into your hands, and kissed your cheek.

“Thank you for being patient with me. I know...I have not been easy to deal with the last several days.”

“It’s all right.” You assured him, and squeezed his hands. “I know you’ll make it right.”

“Without a doubt.”

Frederick strode across camp to find his son’s tent, which was quiet and flickered with a sole candle in the far corner. When he stepped in, he found Morgan at his desk, bandaged from head to toe and looking quite worse for wear.

When he saw his father lingering in the opening, though, Frederick was greeted with a bright smile and a surprised laugh.

“Well, hello, Father! I was beginning to forget what you looked like.”

“Morgan…” He trailed off, staring at his boy who stood from the desk with a stretch and a hum, as cheerful as ever.

“How is Marc doing? I know you’ve been worried about her. Is she awake yet, or is she- oomph!”

Morgan was silenced by his father crushing him to his chest, Frederick hugging his sweet boy as tight as he could.

“Ah, Father-”

“I’m so sorry.”

Morgan paused when Frederick whispered those three little words. Cautiously his hands came around his father, somewhat confused.

“What do you...w-why are you apologizing?”

“You did everything you could to protect Marc. If it had been me in your place, I would have lost her twice as fast. I may have died trying to protect her. But you survived, and you b-brought her home, and I...I cannot express how proud of you I am.”

Tears filled Morgan’s eyes, but he swallowed them down, shaking his head to dismiss them.

“If I was strong enough to protect her, she wouldn’t have been taken. You were right, it was my fault she was kidnapped in the first place. It was my duty to bring her home.”

“No, Morgan. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was wrong for saying what I did. Worse still that you heard it. I failed you. I cannot express to you how truly grateful I am that you are my son; that you are the cunning, strong and excellent man you are.”

“Dad…”

“I hope you will forgive my impertinence.” Frederick sighed, pulling back to place his hands on Morgan’s shoulders. “I understand if you are angry with me. But I-”

Morgan launched back into his father’s arms before another word could be spoken. He buried his face in Frederick’s chest, squeezing him as tight as he could.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Frederick would not be able to deny the tears that welled in his eyes, nor could Morgan. But it was clear without a shadow of the doubt that they loved each other very much. There was no such thing as favorites; only Frederick the Wary being overprotective of his children.

They eventually found the strength to gather their emotions and pull apart, but not before he tousled his son’s hair and assured him all was well.

The pair opted to return to the healer’s tent together, so that you could see both your boys vastly improved and happier. They were mere meters from the entrance when you suddenly tore the flaps open, eyes bright with glee.

“Frederick- she’s awake.”

He sprinted the last few steps. Sure enough, they entered the tent to find Marc stirring in her cot, her expression shifting and twisting with effort as she woke up for the first time in days.

Frederick barely made it back to his seat beside her when her eyes fluttered open, squinting up at him in an attempt to gather her surroundings.

“Marc?” He called to her softly, his hands floating over her as though unsure where they belonged. She stared up at him for several seconds, as if processing what she was looking at.

Then the tears silently spilled down her cheeks.

“...Pa-” She swallowed thickly, reaching shakily out for him, “P-Papa…”

He had her in his arms, cradling her to his chest in seconds. He cupped her head tenderly, pressing her into him and hugging his fragile daughter for all he was worth.

“It’s all right. I’m here, Marc. You’re safe.”

She was so very small, enveloped in her father’s arms. She turned into him from the cot, the tears flowing freely. She sobbed against him not even realizing there were tears in his eyes, too.

You placed a hand on Morgan’s shoulder, smiling at your son. Everyone was misty-eyed, but above all, your family was happy.

Together, again.

Of course the waterworks only continued when Marc was able to separate herself from Frederick, if only so she could hug her brother who saved her life, and hug her mother who she was convinced she’d never get to see again.

The healing tent was just a mess of emotions, but it was filled with plenty of love. And, of course, Morgan having to swear up and down that he’d never do something so reckless ever again.

Which, once his father was satisfied with Morgan’s promise, proceeded to receive countless hugs from all of his family members.

A proper reward, indeed.

#frederick #robin #morgan #marc #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe engage #fe-fictions #fe fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #angst #hurt and comfort #kidnapping prompt

21 notes · View notes

polakina · 11 months

Text

dipped in honey

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: explicit

outline: after months of being apart, a familiar face shows up at your apartment, in need of help and full of apologies.

warnings: smut, fluff, fingering, rough sex, pet names, hair pulling, spanking, marking, dirty talk, teasing, voice kink

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

Months. It had been months since you had seen his face. You had awoken to find him not where he should be. Not in your shared bed. His clothes, his bags, all gone. It was as though he disappeared. At first you suspected you had done something wrong, but the two of you had been married for long enough to be completely open with one another. It couldn’t be you. It had to be something else, surely. But at the moment, it felt as though you’d never find out. Marc hadn’t responded to your calls, texts, even your fucking emails. No word from him, no letter, none of his contacts knew where he was either.

Fuck.

Marc did stupid shit. But never this stupid. He never took off like this out of nowhere. Especially without you. You’d worked together as a unit, bounced ideas off one another, told each other everything. So why the fuck did he just up and leave so suddenly? It didn’t make any sense. You tried not to let it get to you, but even after months of him not contacting you or letting you know that he was even alive, he still lived in your mind at every waking moment. Even when you weren’t awake, the fucker would be in your dreams.

For years the two of you had been working together in Egypt, searching for that damned scarab. Long restless nights spent hunched over documents, researching the area, not even having time for one another. Hell, you hadn’t actually fucked in a few weeks prior to him leaving, too busy on searching. Not that it was all that comfortable to fuck in Egypt, it was too hot and the two of you would get too sweaty. That’s when you resorted to the shower. It was truly a god send. No. You weren’t going to think about it. About him. He left, without a trace. You still loved him, you couldn’t deny that, but as soon as you saw him again you were going to be so pissed with him.

Making your way down the streets of the city you were posted up in, you breathed in the cool air. It was dark now, after your time exploring the city, you’d lost track of time and not even noticed the twinkly stars coating the night sky until you were back outside. Marc often did say you had no concept of time. It was the main reason he blamed your showers lasting so long. Not that it made you speed up your showers, but he didn’t care. You pulled out the keys to your apartment just outside the site where you and- where you were digging. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, double checking to lock it again behind you. Always be cautious. That’s what Marc often told you.

Having the aircon blasting was your first port of call, needing to feel the cool air hit your skin after a whole day of being out in the blaring sun. You felt sticky, your clothes practically latched onto your skin, the stray hairs that had fallen from where you had tied it out of your face now stuck to the base of your neck. You felt gross, to say the least. Nothing a cold shower wouldn’t fix. Stepping around your half packed bags, you made your way to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your face was covered in a thin sheen, the sweat glistening on your forehead prominently. You would call it disgusting. Marc would have called you shiny.

With the cold water running in the background, you collected some fresh, clean clothes from the dresser; a simple tank top and shorts was the only thing bearable to be in during this heat. Marc would say “being naked is the only logical option”. Only twice had he talked you into following his ‘logic’. But right now it was a tempting thought. You pulled the bed sheet over your mattress to make it seem a little tidier before making your way back to the bathroom.

It felt good. The water running over your bare skin, falling to the tiled floor below with quiet droplet echoes. It washed away the grossness of the day, sweat gliding down the drain, never to be seen again. Rinsing your hair of conditioner, you just stood in the water for a few minutes. The droplets ran down your face, over the curve in your nose and the dips in your cheeks, down your neck to the floor. You couldn’t help but think back to one of the last nights Marc was here. The way you felt while he was there. You were both in the shower that night, only you had planned to shower at the time, but Marc of course, decided that wasn’t an option. Even after being married for so long, he still got excited when he saw you naked.

You remembered how he could barely keep his hands to himself that night. The second he was behind you in the shower, his hands were on you, touching you. The memory of his hands ghosting over your skin, up your stomach to your breasts and then back down again, it was burned into your memory. His breath felt warm on your neck, the stubble on his face scratching at your cheek. His words were like drugs dipped in honey when they reached your ears, his husky Chicago accent making your insides all fuzzy. He always knew what to say to make you want him more. He always knew where to touch you to make you just that much more responsive. He proved that very well that night. His fingers worked deftly on your body, dipping in and out of you to make you moan his name so prettily for him. His lips found their way to your neck, the most sensitive part of you he could reach that he knew would make you keen into his touch more. The praises he mumbled truly worked wonders on you, each word making you wetter by the second, more needy for him. He revelled in it, the way you were just so malleable for his hands.

After years of learning your body inside and out, it was pretty easy for him to make you feel the most pleasure in just a matter of minutes. Somehow he always made you feel just a little bit more every time he fucked you. He never half assed his efforts either. He could be exhausted or pissed off, but no matter which it was, he would always have that lustful glint in his eye. He would always fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. Then he would laugh at you as you tried to make your way to the dig site in a straight line.

Your mind wandered to those thoughts, your hand wandered elsewhere. Thankfully, the water drowned out most of the pathetic whines you made, nothing in comparison to when Marc was in this shower with you.

Eventually you left the shower, towel wrapped around your body, hair still dripping. But you knew it would dry soon, in about five minutes stood out on your balcony your hair would be completely bone dry. Redressing in clean clothes, you grabbed some water and headed for the balcony to look out on the pyramids. It was a peaceful sight, to just listen to the crickets and watch the night unfold. You often found yourself out here most nights, sat on one of the chairs with a cup of coffee while just listening to the city go about its business. Peaceful. But too quiet.

It turned past midnight before you went back inside to take yourself to bed. But fate seemed to have different ideas. The door of your apartment was rapped on three times. Your brows furrowed, not expecting anyone to come by any time soon. Or at all, in fact. Cautiously you made your way over to the door, knowing you may not see a friendly face on the other side. But you were surprised to see a familiar one there instead. Through the small, few inches slit that you had opened the door, he was stood there waiting.

“Evening, darling,” he breathed out with that smile you loved so much. No. You were mad at him.

“That’s it? That’s all you say after, what…three months?” You knew you were going to let him into the room…you were just waiting it out a little first. Marc breathed out sharply through his nose, leaning against the doorframe with one hand, an unrecognisable look on his face. “No explanation as to where you’ve been? Nothing? You’re an ass, Marc. You left me here in Egypt for three fucking months with no indication or note of why you left.”

“I know, I know, darling.” He sounded sincere, and weirdly…pained? Actually, looking at him you saw his face contort slightly if he moved a certain way. “I shouldn’t have left so sudden-”

“Are you hurt?”

“Huh?”

“Are. You. Hurt?” You raked over him with your eyes, keeping a watchful lookout for any blood or injuries. He kept his hand on his side, which you noticed from the second he opened the door. “Why are you holding your side like that?”

He stood straighter, tightening his hold on his body. “I’m not…holding it like anything. This is-this is how I stand.” He tried to stand straight, but his right side was still slightly favoured to lean on.

“Oh, you just always stand like you’ve got something up your ass?” You asked cockily, raising an eyebrow as he tried to play off your comment as a joke.

“Come on, you promised you wouldn’t mention anything about shit up my ass after the last time we tried that. I’m still sensitive about that experience.” His eyes flashed back to that night. As much as he denied it, he did enjoy it. But he’d never tell you that, for fear you might want to try it again.

“Move your hand then,” you told him, no room for any nice tone in your voice. You weren’t playing around, he could tell. So he did. Moving his hand slightly, you could see a small red stain on his white shirt. Your eyes blew wide as you opened the door the rest of the way. “Holy shit, Marc. The fuck did you get yourself into?” Your hand instinctively reached for his shirt, but Marc’s hand caught yours quicker.

“It’s fine, okay? It’s an old wound, I just haven’t changed the shirt yet. See?” Marc lifted his shirt gently to reveal a recently formed scar, about four inches long. The cut looked pretty clean, probably caused by a knife or something. There were stitches to keep it together, but after his hectic travelling during the day to get back to you, droplets of blood had started to seep through.

“Fuck, Marc. What the hell has gotten into you? First you leave without saying anything and then you come back with a fucking scar? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” He had hurt you, but you couldn’t help but want to pull him into the apartment. Soon your heart won over your head and you grabbed his arm to yank him inside. “Sit down.” You pointed to the dining chair across the room. He knew that tone. He didn’t mess with that tone. So he obliged, seating himself on the chair, wincing a little as he did.

You didn’t hate him…you couldn’t allow yourself to hate him. But you could certainly act like it until you were less mad at him. So you silently made your way around the kitchen to collect a first aid kit and fresh rags to clean and redress the wound. Nothing was said as you made him strip from his shirt so you could get to work on his injury. He didn’t want to break the silence and piss you off further, so he leant back, watching you as you cleaned the scar and covered it with fresh gauze and bandages. The blazing heat had darkened your skin, tanning it to the point where lines on your skin where it was lighter could be seen clearly, marked by the clothes you had worn in the day. There were worry lines grooved into your face, around your eyes and across your forehead. Marc couldn’t help but curse himself at the thought that he was probably the reason that they were even there at all.

He was so in his head that he hadn’t even noticed you finish up and move to leave the dining table. Without thinking, he grabbed your wrist gently before you could walk away. His hold wasn’t firm, you could easily have pulled away if you wanted. He wouldn’t have stopped you. But you didn’t, you let his hand wrap around your wrist with his soft and gentle touch.

“Can we talk? Please? About everything. I need to apologise to you properly,” Marc practically begged you, you could hear the crack in his voice as he pleaded, the volume at which he spoke barely surpassed a whisper, however. It was as though he was worried if he spoke to loud to you, it would scare you off and you wouldn’t talk to him at all. But you stayed. You wanted, no, you needed to hear what he had to say.

“Why did you leave me?” Your voice at the same level as his. Practically a whisper, but the words ran clear as day as they entered Marc’s ears.

“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” Marc said, slowly, timidly. “If I’d have brought you with me, it could have been you that got hurt instead of me. I couldn’t risk letting that happen. I came back as soon as I was done, hoping you would still be here.” Of course you would still be here, you wouldn’t leave this place if you had even the smallest inkling that he would come back.

Gently, Marc pulled you into him, spreading his thighs for you to stand in between. His hands moved down your waist to your hips, his palms burning into your skin. “I’m sorry, darling. I really am.” His accent made his voice husky, and you couldn’t deny how it made you feel inside. You tried to remain unbothered by his words and the accent that came with it, but it was difficult. It was always difficult.

“You’re really sorry?” You asked, placing your hands on his stomach and leaning into his touch a little more. He nodded, looking up at you with doe eyes, fingertips drawing circles into your skin, dipping under the waistband of your pants.

“I am,” he replied, voice dripping with sincerity…and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He pressed a soft kiss to your stomach just next to your bellybutton before pulling the waistband of your shorts down with his thumb just a little to press another kiss to the sensitive skin there. “Let me show you how sorry I am. Please, baby?”

You couldn’t deny him. You didn’t want to deny him. His whiny voice, his doe eyes. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you right now. Shit could be discussed later. Right now you had more important matters to attend to.

“Yes. Please, Marc. Show me.”

His lips started below your bellybutton, trailing painfully slowly upwards. Your eyes fluttered shut as you revelled in his touch. He moved upwards, pushing your loose fitting shirt up to gain more access to your body. His kisses were addictive, you just wanted more and more with every kiss inflicted upon your body, needing it, craving more from him.

Marc needed you. He needed you now. Needed to prove to you how much he missed you, how much he regretted leaving you. He started by lifting you off the ground, standing himself so he could lift you into his arms. You gasped at the change of position, chasing his lips with your own as you got comfortable in his sturdy arms. His lips found yours instantly, gliding against your own perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Your legs wrapped around his waist, nestling yourself there with your ankles overlapping to keep yourself close to him. You could already feel a tingling feeling in your lower stomach, building and raging more violently as he walked the two of you over to the bed. Only he could make you feel like this, desperate and needy for him without touching you where you wanted him most.

He loved it. The power he held over you, how he could make you so wet and pliant with just a few kisses and words of praise. Knowing your body like the back of his hand was a gift only he could and ever would possess. So he intended to take full advantage of that.

Leaning down over the bed, he set you down on the soft mattress from where you had spent many previous nights there, writhing and entangled in the sheets, sweat glistening on your bodies, completely spent of all energy. Tonight would be no different. You got comfortable on the soft duvet, head resting on an array of feather pillows as Marc hovered above you, his eyes hungry for you, raking over your body as though he was deciding how much he planned to ruin you tonight.

“So goddamn beautiful”, he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips softly, wedging his body between yours. He pressed his lower body against yours, friction already flying between your bodies. He moaned into your mouth, clearly just as wanting for you after spending so many nights thinking of you and how soft and pretty you were while getting himself off in the shower, teeth lodged in his lower lip so none of his neighbours heard him moan your name.

His lips travelled lower, dipping to your collarbone and planting soft kisses there. They dropped lower, red and purple blemishes peppered along your chest in his wake. With one hand propping him above your body, the other pulled down one of the straps of your top, exposing your breasts. “So pretty, so perfect for me,” he mumbled, taking one of your breasts in his large hand while attending to the other with his mouth.

Gasps were pulled from your throat at the heavenly sensation of his tongue running over your pert nipple, sucking and kissing little bruises into the plush flesh, while his hand grasped and tweaked at your other breast deliciously. The feelings were almost too overwhelming, gasps and moans dragging from the pit of your stomach as he played and toyed with you so perfectly. You were so malleable and pliant for him, your body completely becoming his to enjoy and to make you feel entirely euphoric. After giving the same attention to your other breast, he ensured that he was completely satisfied with the art work he had made of you, pretty blemishes and bruises and love bites littering your skin just to his liking, marking you as his and only his.

“Marc,” you breathed softly, his face immediately coming back up to meet yours. “Yeah, baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Want you. Need you now. Please.” God, the way you asked for him, begged for him to ruin you in the best way possible. He had left you for so long, denied you of his touch for months, so there was no way he could ever say no to you now. He planned to give you everything you wanted and more, until tears formed in your eyes and you had been reduced to an incoherent mess. It was something you had previously discussed quite a lot. You originally planned to come out with “fuck me until I cry”, but decided on a softer and more in depth approach. But he had delivered what you asked for perfectly, not stopping until you had to push him away from the overstimulation. Since then, anything you asked for or wanted to try, he always made you feel better than you ever had before.

“Hmm…want me to fuck you, darling? Want me to make you scream my name so all of our neighbours can hear you? They’d be lucky to hear you, how pretty you sound for me when I’m inside you, knowing that they can never have you the way I can. God, you look so pretty right now, I want to ruin you, until everyone knows who you belong to. You want that too, darling?”

You grew wetter just from his words. They were like poetry, each sentence lodging itself deeper into your core, nestling in the pits of your womb. “Yes. Please. Please, Marc. Touch me,” you asked, feeling his hand dip lower and lower with each word that spilled over your lips. Your pleads melted into whispering babbles as fingertips slid under your shorts and connected with your soaked folds.

“I got you, darlin’. You just keep making those pretty noises for me, or I’ll stop. Want you to be as loud as you can as I make you feel good. Yeah?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, breath running down the side of your neck. You nodded, mouth agape as his fingers ghosted over your clit, teasing you incessantly. But he couldn’t tease you for long, he wouldn’t last long that way. Cupping your pussy, one finger dipped into your dripping hole, feeling how wet you were just from his words. It turned him on even more, knowing how hot and bothered he could get you in just a few minutes. “Good girl,” he mumbled before slotting his lips against yours.

The second his finger pushed into you slowly, your legs fell open, no longer trapping his waist between your thighs. “Atta girl, just let me make you feel good, hmm?” His voice was heavenly, husky with his thick accent on his tongue. Pumping his thick finger in and out of you, the sounds it made were only making Marc harder in his pants. Adding a second finger, he scissored them inside you, curling them at the perfect angle to make your back arch against him. You moaned into his mouth, and Marc took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, intertwining it with yours.

His thumb on your clit, long fingers working at a fast pace inside of you and hitting a spot that could make you scream, you were already so close. Gasps and moans were escaping your lips with each ministration of his fingers, bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans were like music to Marc’s ears; he loved it when you were vocal like this, it could make him cum on the spot if he let himself go like that.

But you loved it too. Being loud for him. There had been times when neighbours had banged on the wall or your front door, but neither of you cared. Marc had just fucked you harder saying that “they should be lucky to hear such a pretty thing like you”.

Your thighs tightened around Marc’s body as you felt something building in your core. Your moans were breathier, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Marc’s fingers worked faster and faster inside of you, curling to attack that spongy spot deep inside your pussy with precise aim. “Come on, darlin’. Come undone for me. I know you can.” His lips attacked your neck once more as your fingers dug into his back as you felt yourself clench his fingers tighter. Waves and waves of pleasure overtook you, surging through your body until all you could feel was complete euphoria. “That’s it baby, doing so good for me.” He fucked you on his fingers through your orgasm, kissing all of the blemishes he’d previously left on your skin. “Feel good?” He asked, kissing across your face to your lips once again. You nodded, words escaping you once again as you laid in your state of bliss for a few seconds longer. He loved seeing you like this, looking blissful and post orgasmic like this. But he wasn’t done with you yet. You weren’t done yet either.

Marc hovered above you, drinking you in with his eyes, the look on his face showed how much he clearly missed you for those months he was away.

“Marc.” You pulled him from his trance and he looked down at you, blinking into focus. He hummed quietly in response. “I love you, but are you just gonna stay there, or are you going to fuck me?” You taunted, seeing how his eyes darkened at your boldened words and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Oh baby, I love it when you say it like that.” His hands drifted to the thin material of your shorts, pulling the clothing from your body in one swift motion and exposing you entirely to him. “You wanna turn over for me, darlin?” Marc leaned back so you could sit up, letting you change positions after you speedily pulled the shirt off your body, your hands and knees sinking into the soft mattress beneath the two of you. The bed rocked a little as weight shifted behind you, the sounds of a belt buckle being undone and pants falling to the ground could be heard. You felt him get back onto the bed, coming up behind you and palming your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with a light slap to make you jump. He pushed his hips flush against your ass, the feel of his hardened cock against you only made you want him more.

He peppered kisses along your spine, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other firmly grasping your hip to keep you in place. “Ready, baby?” You heard him ask, and you nodded eagerly in response. You dropped yourself down to resting on your elbows instead of your hands, arching your back a little more and pushing your ass against him more. That earned you a swift smack on your left ass cheek, causing you to yelp out from surprise. “Be patient. Or else you get nothing, darling.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off when the tip of his cock brushed through your folds and teasing your hole slightly before pushing in. You both groaned at the feel of his cock being guided into you, the way you clamped around him as he drove himself further into your dripping pussy. Marc didn’t breathe until he was fully sheathed inside you, his cock throbbing against your walls, hands gripping your hips with vigour. There was no movement on his end for a few moments as he let you adjust to his size, aside from the occasional twitching of his dick as it nestled inside you.

“Fuck you feel so good, darlin. Practically made for me, weren’t you? Fuck, feels so perfect,” he mumbled as his thumbs drew circles into your skin, fingerprints most likely becoming indented into your skin from how firmly he was holding you in place. Just the sheer thought of his hands leaving marks on your skin aroused him more than he thought was possible. “Can I move, baby?”

You couldn’t even speak, the feel of him filling you up so good vacated any thought from your brain and rendered you speechless. So you just managed a nod. But that wasn’t enough for Marc. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up off the bed so your head was resting back against his shoulder. “Baby, if you want me to fuck you like I know you like, then you’re going to have to fucking ask for it. Hmm?” You clenched around him harder at those words, gripping him like a vice at the gravelly tone in his voice.

“Please, please Marc. Move. Fuck me,” you begged, the stinging of his hand gripping your hair merging into intense pleasure.

“Are you gonna be good?”

You almost made the mistake of nodding again. “I will. I’ll be good for you.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He pushed you down against the mattress, releasing your hair and grabbing your arms instead, manoeuvring them so they were behind your back. With one hand, he held your wrists together behind your back and pulled out of you until only the tip of his cock remained in your pussy. “Good baby.” They were the only words you heard before his cock rammed back into you, hitting that spot that sent you seeing stars on the first try. You cried out in pleasure, face pressed against the soft bed as your arms flexed as much as they could in the tight grip Marc had them locked in.

Over and over again, Marc drove his cock deep inside you, continuously hitting that delicious spot that made you scream his name, begging for more. At the power and speed his dick pistoned into you, it was sure to leave bruises on you, but you’d welcome them as a reminder of this very night. “That’s it baby,” Marc said through gritted teeth. “Let all of Cairo know my name.” And you did. You felt as though ‘Marc’ was the only word you knew how to speak. “So cockdumb for me, aren’t you, pretty thing? Does my dick make you feel that good?” His words were a drug and you were addicted.

You were rendered to a babbling mess underneath him, completely and entirely submitted to him as he manhandled you to his desired fantasy. Restricted, controlled, handled in a way Marc knew you wanted to be, he knew you inside and out, knew what you liked and what turned you on the most. He was really using all of this to his advantage right now. And you were eating it up.

Driving his cock into you harder and harder, the bed started to creak with the force of his thrusts, pushing your body further into the mattress as he fucked you. Tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes from the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, the result of Marc’s cock hitting the spongy spot inside every time with expert precision. He was so good at knowing your body and focusing on making you feel like you were ascending to heaven.

“Right there, darlin? Yeah, it’s right there. Grippin’ me so tight. You close, baby?” His voice was somehow deeper and huskier than before as he tried to hold out until he made you cum at least once more.

“Y-yeah, right there Marc. Just there,” you cried out, barely able to say the words at this point. “So close, ‘m so close.” It was building up violently and quickly, pushing you to the brink of bliss until you were practically teetering on the edge of it.

“I got you, darlin. Don’t you worry.” Marc’s body hunched over yours as his thrusts became deeper and slower, his hand drifting from your hip and round to your stomach, pressing against it lightly to feel the indentation of his cock against your skin. It almost made him cum on the spot.

You cried out as the coil snapped, your pussy tightening even more around his cock as he continued thrusting as you worked through your orgasm. He continued to piston perfectly against that spot, really making you see stars this time, overstimulating you until tears rolled down your face.

“There ya go, baby. Fuck, you sound so pretty when I fuck you,” Marc revelled in your sounds as they brought him closer to his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, darlin’. How does that sound, huh? Having my cum inside your pretty pussy?”

You nodded profusely as you tried to find the words. “Please, Marc. Cum inside me, fill me up.” He did just that. Groaning deeply as he released deep inside you, stuttering to a still, his body hunched over yours as he came. You both breathed heavily through your orgasms, sweat slicked across your skin, but neither of you cared. Your heads were filled with ecstasy and that’s all that mattered right now. The Cairo heat didn’t help, sticking your skin together as you filled your lungs with air once again.

Marc lifted off you, releasing your hands and leaning back to see his cum dripping out of you as he pulled out slowly. You moaned slightly at the empty feeling he left you with, letting your body weight drop onto the bed and rolling onto your back. The edge of the bed shifted as Marc moved off it, walking over to the bathroom. You didn’t even realise what he was doing until something dragged along your inner thigh. Instinctively, your hand moved to push him away, not thinking you’d be able to take much more of him just yet.

“Easy, darlin’. Just cleaning you up, okay?” There was a sweet tone to his voice, a harsh contrast from earlier, but you sensed a smile in his voice too. You removed your hand and let him continue, settling into the comfortable bed as he dragged the warm and damp towel across your skin. Once he was finished, Marc tossed the towel into the laundry hamper and ran his hands over your knees and thighs, pressing kisses to your thighs softly. “Feeling okay?”

“Feeling great,” you breathed out, smiling when he chuckled slightly. He laid down next to you and you rolled over to face him, meeting his kind eyes. “Promise me that the next time you decide to go on some hunt, that you’ll take me with you.” Marc chuckled once again and nodded.

“Okay, darlin. I promise. We’re a team, right? I won’t leave you behind.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and the two of you laid there, basking in the Egyptian sun which hit Marc’s skin so perfectly, making him look as though he’d been dipped in honey.

#marc spector #moon knight #mcu #marvel #oscar isaac #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #marvel x reader #smut #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight smut

484 notes · View notes

thedevilsoftruth · 19 days

Text

my violent heart.

" I was a very bad man who did very bad things. "

Pairing: Marc Spector x Afab Reader.

Summary: The day before Marc Spector attempts to raid Khonshus tomb for money and is eventually betrayed by the Bushman.

Warning: DRABBLE, Marc Spector before he served Khonshu, porn with little plot, rough sex, unprotected ( don't try this at home ) dom!Marc, nonviolent gun play, car sex, drunk Marc, blowjob, squirting, gaging.

Title is from My Violent Heart by Nine Inch Nails.. Mostly based off of Marc in the comics bc we need more comic MK smut.

Marc Spector was a little bit greedy. Not only that but totally not a man anyone should have been going to in their time of " need ". He was a little bit frantic that day. Not scared but nervous. Apprehensive about something that he wouldn't explain to you. But whatever it was, you didn't care. You were there for one reason and one reason only.

The fogging up of the windows in his car spoke it all. it spoke just how needy you were and just how angry he was. His growling as you rolled your hips forward and back onto his shaft, your pitiful cries as you stuffed your face into the crook of his neck. His hands searching all over you, your nails digging into his shoulder as he whispered out curses into your ear. It all spoke of nothing but desperation and showed just the extends you both would go to just to feel something.

" Marc.. so f-fucking g-good" You moaned out into his skin, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he took your hips into his hands and took control. He began rutted forward into your heat, faster than you had been going before. You had been going for a couple rounds already, and you were certain that would be the last one.

He hummed into your, kissing your neck softly before biting down on the skin, Inflicting a small yelp out of your lips. He thrusted forward urgently like you were his tiny little fuckdoll. It was hot and humid in his car, but so loud you were sure anyone from fifty miles away could hear. Broken cries and choked moans were the only things coming out of your mouth.

" fuck, you're so loud. Is it that good? Is it so good that you feel the need to fucking deafen me with your damn whining? " He inquired teasingly into your ear, trailing his lips down to your perky breasts where he took one of your hard nipples into his ravenous mouth.

" Marc... S-slow down. Can't take it. " You whined out, biting your bottom lip and scrunching up your face in pleasure. He chuckled darkly.

" you're such a crybaby, you can take it. Plus, you were the one begging me in my messages to fuck you tonight. You get what you ask for, slut. " He grumbled, flipping you over on your back on his leather back seats and diving back in from there. As he was pounding you into oblivion, he reached his hand into his bag on the floor and pulled out a black hand gun. Your eyes widened when you saw it, but you knew he wouldn't actually use it against you.

He ran the cold metal down your stomach with a smug smirk on his face. He was so clearly boozed out of his mind that the only thing on his train of thought was sex and violence. His thrusts were starting to get inconsistent and sloppy, as he felt your pussy clenching around him tightly and signaling him you were about reach your peak.

" so t-tight. F-fucking whore, cum. All over me. Fuh--ck. " He moaned, clearly way too fucked out of his head. He was too far gone. Too lost, and he wasn't finding his way back. He lowered the gun in between your legs, and started rolling the muzzle of the gun around your swollen clit, making you gasp and your legs jerk unexpectedly. Then he found that spot in your cunt that was able to send you flying, and rammed into it as fast as he could, throwing his head back and groaning loudly as he fucked you into heaven. His heaven. His own fucked up interpretation of whatever pleasure was.

He cocked the gun and looked down at you, seeing the worry but pure pleasure etched out onto your pretty features. He wasn't actually going to shoot it, but It was enough to motivate him, to get him to explode. You reached behind your head and put your hand on the slippery glass of the window, his cock hitting every single inch of your tiny pussy repeatedly that you so badly needed to be touched. It all became too much for you, and then you finally reached your limit. He pulled out the second he felt you spilling out, but this time you didn't just cum--you fucking squirted. All over his hairy chest.

" shit... " He mumbled, staring you awestruck. " You know what?... Come here. " He said calmly, sitting down on his lap and patting the spot next to him. You did as we're instructed and say down on your knees beside him. " Suck. " He said simply, showing you everything he had to offer. So, you did as told, once again, and took his erected leaking tip into your mouth. You slowly bobbed your head up and down his lubricated, slippery shaft, inflicting low moans from him. You rose back up to his tip and licked your tongue all around his wet skin before you drove back down. You kissed and licked the side of his thick rod, taking him in again and timidly going down and up his cock. But you guessed it wasn't enough, because he huffed loudly and harshly curled his fist into your scalp.

" you're fucking useless. " He degraded under his breath, taking control of you once more and harshly pulling your head half way down his shaft. You immediately began gaging as he pushed past your gag reflex limits, holding your head down there for several seconds before you looked up at him and tapped him twice.

" no. " He said, pulling your head completely off of himself. " you're going to take it again. " He commanded, pushing your head back down again, but this time not as far as the last time. You whimpered and began gaging and choking once more, eyes becoming watery as he brought your head forcefully up and down his greedy dick. He was fast, too fast to keep up with. But at the end of the day, he was able to finish. Right into your mouth of which he made you swallow his hot spend. He let go of your head and zipped his pants back up. He didn't look at you for the rest of the very few seconds your were in his car, he was staring at his gun.

" now get out of here. I have business to take care of in the morning. "

21 notes · View notes