#marc spector x f!reader x layla el faouly
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♱ BELONG TO YOU ♱
a/n: this was a fic on it's own that had been sitting unfinished in my wips folder for months. but i'm shoving it into kinktober, because it is filthy as fuck. enjoy!
day twelve - threesome + body worship | kinktober 2022
summary: a never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.
word count: 1.4k+
pairing: marc spector x f!reader x layla el-faouly
warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, threesome, body worship, cum eating, fingering, my horrible attempt at dirty talk.
He looked pretty. That’s all you could remember in this situation, his question of what you thought about him when you first saw him now muddled in your mind. His hands ran down your sides, dragging you into his lap slowly and you did your best to give him an answer. What did you think about him? There were too many words to describe such a situation at a time like this. Fuck, you could barely even tell him what you wanted him to do next.
“C’mon tell me,” he cooed, head tilted back against the couch as your hands rested on his shoulders.
“I—”
The words caught in your throat when a second pair of hands trailed up your back. Their touch, lighter than his and yet still prominent enough to drive you just as crazy…if not more. You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know she was smiling. Her eyes alight with mischief as she caught his gaze. They knew the effect they had and still they did this on purpose either way—drew you taut with pleasure through only their so-called innocent touches.
“What did you think of me baby?” she asked—voice barely above a whisper. It had the hair on the back of your neck standing up, eyes fluttering shut as she kissed the juncture of where your neck and shoulder met.
You whined when she pulled away, desperate to have her remain right where she was. “Please…”
He tutted, hand reaching up to wrap lightly around your throat and tilt your head to face him. “You know how to get what you want.”
The words died in the back of your throat. You wanted to shout them, tell them the truth to finally have their touch remain in the places that you needed, but you could barely form a sentence. Layla’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear, her breath washing across your cheek, sending a shudder down your spine. They were doing this on purpose. Breaking you slowly with every caress, every whispered word, because they wanted you as much as you needed them.
“I remember you telling me he was pretty,” she breathed, eyes flashing to Marc’s over your shoulder. “Didn’t you?”
You nodded quickly, choking on your stuttered breath when his hips jolted up into yours. He’d placed you on his lap in such a way that your cunt now pressed directly against the bulge in his pants. They would drag this out until you were past the point of begging—half mad with built up pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to function without their help. In a way it made you want to remain silent even more.
“You’ve gotta speak up,” Marc said. “I know you want to.”
Whimpering, you shifted in his lap, breath stuttering when Layla’s fingers began unbuttoning your top. There was no doubt in your mind that they owned you completely. That you’d die for them if asked, because you couldn’t imagine living your life without them being a part of it. The road to get here was a long one; filled with enough twists and turns to leave you dizzy.
Yet this…their touch, their love, it was all you dreamed about and more.
“C’mon baby.” His voice had turned dark, an edge to it you’d only heard when he was in the midst of a fight.
You supposed this was a fight in itself.
“Be good for us,” Layla breathed, lips ghosting along your shoulder as she stripped the shirt from your body—chills spreading rapidly down your spine with a mere brush of her breath against your skin. She knew the effect she held over your body—your being—and right now she was wielding it to her strength.
Molding you to her hands, her wants and desires. Just as Marc was doing.
“He was—oh—” Her hands dipped lower, opening the button of your pants with ease, fingers trailing along the waistband.
Marc’s hand still remained around your throat—a grin spreading across his lips as he watched you shudder with every stroke of Layla’s touch. He’d told you before that there was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing you like this. Fully pliant in their holds—nothing occupying your mind except them.
“I was what?” he asked softly, his other hand curving around your hip.
“You were pretty,” you gasped, head falling back against Layla’s shoulder as her fingers dipped into your already soaked underwear.
“Oh baby,” she cooed. You could feel her smile press against your cheek. “Is this all for us?”
Nodding, you rocked your hips forward, desperate for her touch to press even further along your cunt. She did as you wished. Spread your slick up to your clit and circling it lightly until you were shaking in her hold, chest heaving. Marc made quick work of your bra with one hand, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.
You dug your hand into his hair, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he laved his tongue over the peaked bud, tugging on it lightly with his teeth to elicit another strained sound from you. They were ruthless in their suppleness. Both exacting their pleasure on your body to drag you right where they wanted you. A never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.
“So beautiful like this,” Layla murmured, biting along your jaw, her fingers speeding up along your clit and drawing sounds from you that made her head spin. “Sitting on Marc’s lap like a goddess.”
He growled against your breast, biting into the side of it with an edge that made you jolt. He knew you liked a taste of pain with your pleasure—something he found he rather sided with as well. Nothing too hard, never enough to rip you out of the daze they put you in, but perfect enough to heighten in. The tighter grip you had on his hair told him how you reacted—his lips curving into a smile.
“You’ve got a perfect body.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your neck soothingly. “You fit our hands like you were fucking made for us.”
Layla hummed in agreement, her lips pressing against yours and guiding you into a kiss that left you gasping for breath. Their praise brought you into a new kind of high—sending your body into overdrive. It was their way of driving you insane, of reminding you who loved you at the end of the day. Who was there to protect you and keep you safe.
You never felt more at ease—more at home—than when you were in their arms.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” she whispered.
“Me first,” Marc retorted, sliding his tongue into your mouth with practiced ease. He kissed you as if he was finally breathing for the first time in ages. As if you were the only source of oxygen for the both of them.
“She’s close,” Layla said; the audible squelch of her fingers on your cunt now mixed with your panted breaths, your eyes barely open as they took what they wanted from you.
He groaned, grinding his hips up into yours and pressing Layla’s fingers even harder against your clit. That was all you needed to go tumbling off the edge with their names on your lips. She turned your head with her other hand and caught your lips in a sloppy kiss of teeth and tongue. You felt her hand fall to lay over Marc’s that still remained on your neck—both of them reminding you that you were theirs. No one else could have you, no one could take you.
Your mind whited out as pleasure shattered across your body, until the only thought in your head was of them.
“That’s it,” Marc encouraged you, his teeth digging into your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. “So perfect for both of us.”
“Our love,” Layla breathed, ceasing her movements when your hand shot down, gripping her wrist.
You barely opened your eyes long enough to see Marc lift her fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. It caused heat to curl low in your stomach, a feeling of need building up with every passing second you watched him lick her fingers clean. You wanted them again, wanted to be the one who tore pleasure from their body just as they did to you. Marc’s heated eyes met yours, a grin curving on his lips. He’d gotten a taste of the thing he craved most and now he wanted to drown in it—in you.
You’d have them both by the end of the night. This you knew for sure.
#marc spector x f!reader x layla el faouly#marc spector x reader x layla el faouly#marc spector x reader#layla el faouly x reader#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x you#marc spector smut#layla el faouly x you#layla el faouly smut#moon knight#kinktober 2022#my writing
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40-something Moon Man ROCKS the Dancefloor! (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!)
pairing: Marc Spector & Female Reader
word count: 4026
warnings: none
summary:
Marc Spector accidentally goes viral on TikTok after his uni student neighbour/friend drags him to the club with her.
a/n: i wrote this in a silly goofy mood and i love marc sooo much <3 Also I used Darling instead of Y/n cuz im funky like that.
“Please, Marc.” Darling begged the 40-something man while he tried to clean his flat.
“No.” Marc answered flatly, wearing a very washed-out and loose t-shirt and a pair of dark blue shorts. His hair, now longer was tied at the back of his head in a tiny man bun.
“Why??? We’ll have so much fun and you need a night out to dislodge the stick up your ass.” Darling groaned and fell on her knees in the kitchen, ready to hold onto his legs and beg if need be. Marc sighed and ignored the 19-year-old teenager on his kitchen floor as he cracked another window open and increased the volume of the radio on the window ledge, BBC Radio 1 playing a Central Cee song in the flat as he picked up stray books, papers, food wrappers, socks and random junk, a bin bag clutched in one hand and a laundry basket clutched in his other arm.
Marc finally got himself to start cleaning his flat, he read that it would help his mental health to live in a cleaner space. That’s why she was over, she was meant to help him clean so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming on his own, and motivate him to get on with cleaning so he finished faster and could escape her non-ending yapping sessions. But now, it seemed like she was more interested in annoying him, which is literally second nature now, a natural reaction she had to him, annoying the shit out of Marc.
I mean, he could literally kick her out, and scare her enough that she’ll leave him alone for good, he’s done it before, to other people. He’s tried, but she’s Steven’s friend and he can’t do that to him. And he knows deep down he actually enjoys her presence and would kill anyone that hurts her then himself. He cannot lie, the kid had a big heart and was incredibly kind and patient. He was a little jealous that her parents were able to make a girl like that because Marc knew he could never produce that level of goodness into the world. He can never come close. She was too good.
Marc dropped the basket on a chair and the trash bag on top of it, letting out a long sigh and putting his hands on his hips. “Why do you want me to go with you?”
Darling’s miserable puppy eyes immediately vanished and she got up from the floor, walking up to him with a huge grin on her face. “Well, first of all, you’re my friend, and I like hanging out with you.” Marc raised one brow and didn’t say anything.
“I found this club with great music and I really want to try it out,” Darling said shrugging.
“Why don’t you go with your friends? People your own age.” Marc asked, his arms now crossed over his chest. “People from my uni are… I never really enjoyed going out with them, sure, nothing terrible happened cuz we always stuck together but uh-” Darling tried to explain and Marc failed to understand why the hell she wanted him to go with her out of all people.
“I’ll just be in the way if I go with you. And I can always pick you up at the end of the night, you know?” Marc said and Darling frowned in confusion, “In the way of what?”
Marc almost laughed in disbelief but held it together, “Don’t you want a boyfriend? No one will get close to you if I’m with you.”
Darling looked unimpressed, “What boyfriend? You mean drunk finance bros with an Andrew Tate mentality? Plus, I don’t do hookups, I have anxiety, mate.” Marc was confused and Darling remembered he wasn’t as chronically online as she was, so he probably had no idea who the abomination of a man was.
“I just want the experience. I just want to dress up and dance all night without men I don’t know breathing down my neck.” Darling explained, picking lint up from her way too big t-shirt with a Pikachu plastered on the front, so she wouldn’t have to look at him in the eyes.
Marc understood and thought about it for a second before picking up the trash bag and walking to the area that was his kitchen and putting it on the floor, next to the bin. “You want me to be your bodyguard?”
Darling’s head snapped up, eyes wide, “No! I mean- Yeah, sure..”
Marc pondered over the thought and asked, “When?”
“This Friday.” Darling quickly answered, smiling big and all, excitement radiating off her in waves.
“Alright, but so you know, I don’t dance.” That’s also what Chad from High School Musical said but go off. Darling knew to keep her mouth shut instead of calling him out.
“Thank you. Thank you so much!” She squealed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Alright, enough.” He grumbled even though he was smiling, and ripped her away with his hands on her shoulders. “You won’t regret this,” Darling promised and Marc just nodded, he’ll see about that.
“Now, do me a favour,” Marc said, turning around and picking up two trash bags in his hands. “Take out the trash.”
Darling groaned and Marc fixed her with a look and her shoulders slumped, taking the bags out of the door to put them downstairs.
🌙
“How do I look? Be honest.” Darling asked, standing in the corridors as Marc locked his door and shoved the keys in his pockets, his black leather jacket held in his other hand.
Marc straightened his back and analysed her outfit from head to toe. She was wearing a sleeveless, backless sparkly blue top paired with jean shorts and white trainers. Simply put, she looked pretty and it surprised Marc a little, he didn’t know she was capable of wearing anything but washed-out old t-shirts with unhinged slogans on them. It was an addiction at this point, she loved buying the weirdest t-shirts she could find on the internet. She even bought him a t-shirt once that said “I lactate”. And swear to God, Marc almost killed her right then and there. It’s still ranked as one of her “biggest Ws” whatever the fuck that meant.
“Not ugly,” Marc answered flatly and Darling grinned, that was Marc’s way of saying she looked nice.
“And you look great, did Jake pick the clothes?” She asked, looking him over.
“No.” Marc lied and she giggled, because the one who dressed cunty every single time without fail, was Jake, and unfortunately, Marc didn’t possess the level of serve Jake did.
Marc was wearing a black short-sleeved button-up, unbuttoned at the top, where his David’s star necklace glinted against his tan chest, paired with black trousers and black shoes. Simple, clean. His hair was brushed back this time, but still, some curls fell over his forehead no matter how many times he ran his fingers through it.
“Let’s go,” Darling said after checking she had everything she needed in her small handbag.
The two decided to take the underground rather than Jake’s cab because it was faster than being stuck in traffic in central London. It was a bit busy and lots of people looked like they were heading to clubs and pubs for the night, dressed in all sorts of manner. Marc was honestly just looking around and taking everything in, he had never witnessed London’s nightlife like this, maybe saw some things from rooftops while tracking someone, but that didn’t count.
He saw an alarming amount of young men dressed in techs, standing in hoards. And girls wearing matching bodycon dresses. The underground station was hot, extremely loud and stinky. Darling was standing next to him, complaining about the prices that TFL charged. How ridiculously expensive the tube and trains were, even with a student oyster. He just hoped he wouldn’t get a nasty headache by the end of the night.
They hopped on the tube when it came, screeching to a stop, people spilling out of it in crowds. When they got in, they sat across each other as more people sat around them. And if it couldn’t get any louder, a man walked in with a big speaker resting on his shoulder and a cracked iPhone gripped in his other hand. “Bassline Junkie” blasted loudly as he sang along, and soon enough, a group of rowdy teenagers, around Darling’s age, started singing along too. Darling started laughing and Marc watched as the man started approaching them, goading the sitting people to get up and start singing with him. Darling got up and shouted the lyrics at some girls as they sang together. They somehow managed to drag Darling away from her seat, holding each other and singing loudly, multiple phones recording the scene. When they reached their stop, Marc got up and pulled Darling by the hand out of the tube before they missed it.
“BYE!” She shouted over her shoulder, laughing and breathing hard.
Marc let go of her hand and watched her put her hands on her knees, panting and straightening, fixing her hair and looking at Marc with bright eyes, “I’ve never done that before.”
He smiled a little, “Good job.”
“To the club!” Darling pointed in the direction of the gates, pulling Marc by his arm.
When they left the station, Darling let out a shuddering breathing, suddenly feeling very cold in the polluted crisp air of London. Marc noticed and frowned, “Don’t get sick.”
“Wow, thank you, Marc.” Darling rolled her eyes and started walking down the street, Marc following her behind. She turned around, walking backwards, “By the way, I have your jacket so I won’t get sick.”
“I’m not giving you my jacket, dipshit.” Marc said and Darling rolled her eyes, “Yeah, whatever you say.”
They spent 30 minutes trying to figure out where the hell that club was, bickering while following the map on Darling’s phone. At some point, she ended up locking arms with Marc after a rando whistled after her when she walked by and had to physically stop Marc from turning around and bashing the man’s face in.
When they finally reached the club, Darling was so excited and Marc had a hand wrapped around the back of her neck, guiding her through the crowds of people to the bar so they could get a drink in their system first and take in the place. “You’re paying, by the way,” Darling said over the loud music, taking a sip of her cocktail, this drink will probably be her first and last. She didn’t plan on throwing up on the pavement, and she wants to be able to remember tonight.
“You’re the one taking me out, aren’t you supposed to be paying?” Marc asked, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. “I’m paying for kebabs later. 50/50, yeah?” She said and he hummed.
He looked around and noticed how a lot of people were dressed, it faintly reminded him of the early 2000s with twists to fit today’s fashion trends. He could tell that this was the look Darling was going for, then he finally allowed himself to actually hear the music and was surprised when Flo Rida was blasting from the speakers, the floor vibrating under the weight of the bass.
“Come on, let’s dance,” Darling said after she finished her drink and dragged him on the dance floor, drink still in hand. Rihanna was now playing and Marc was a little mortified because he doesn’t remember the last time he danced in a club. Darling gave him encouraging nods while she practised a Just Dance routine without missing a beat as Marc nodded to the music, finishing his drink and trying not to laugh at her and failing miserably.
At some point Darling got rid of his empty glass for him and ran back, almost crashing face-first on his chest if he didn’t catch her. “THAT’S MY SONG!” She shouted over the music and Marc immediately recognised the beat. It was that Usher song that even the aliens from outer space could recognise, the one and only: “Yeah!”. Marc was a little confused because he was sure as hell she wasn’t even born when it came out.
“I WAS BORN TO SERVE CUNT AND SLAY THE CLUB!” She shrieked and Marc knew she must be out of her mind because there’s no way one drink made her say shit like that. He was dragged to the centre of the dance floor and Darling started busting moves he never saw her do, and Marc had to admit, she was a good dancer. But he was a great dancer.
He ran a hand through his curly hair and watched her dance with fire in her eyes. Marc smirked. Alright , if this is how this is going to go, then so be it. He popped another button open from the top of the shirt and rolled his neck, getting his muscles loose, nodding to the beat. Darling watched him as she bounced with the beat and honest to God, Marc started krumping. Krumping in the club.
Darling’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and she screamed in delight, hyping him up with her whole body, “I knew you could do it!”
He was good. Really good.
So good in fact that the people around them started to notice and the space between them got bigger, creating a clear space where they could see Marc and Darling better. Darling didn’t even notice, her eyes glued to Marc who was absolutely destroying the dance floor. She didn’t even notice the phones pulled out to record the scene. And when it looked like Darling was starting to lose against Marc, a random girl squeezed herself through the crowd, handing Darling her drink and started dancing battling Marc. Darling was losing her mind, laughing and having the time of her life. The crowd hyped both the girl and Marc.
Marc was smiling the whole time, his curls moving this and that way, now falling over his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His face was warm and his necklace kept constantly swinging as he ate up every single person who decided to battle him. In between songs, he kept being offered drinks while Darling kept complimenting his skills. She was proud to get him out of his shell and was genuinely so grateful that everything went as planned. But most importantly, she was proud of him.
Hours later, by the time they left the club, the two were walking down the streets, singing together to a Britney Spears song, arms linked and still warm and sweaty. Darling had Marc’s (Well, it was actually Jake’s) leather jacket draped over her shoulders, keeping her shielded from the cold wind. Meanwhile, Marc may as well unbutton his shirt all the way down and take it off because it was sticking to him and a huge, very generous chunk of his chest could be seen, still shining with drying sweat. His hair was a little crazy because no matter what he tried to do, it refused to stay still and he didn’t have anything to hold it with. But that’s alright, he looked very pretty and he had a great time to care about his hair at the moment.
The two made their way to the first kebab place they saw. “What do you want?” She asked, looking at the old and worn menu above the counter, on the wall. “A number 2.”
“Bossman, let me get two number 2s and two Coke Zero’s.” Darling said and the man nodded, “£22.98, please.” Darling reached for her purse. “I got it,” Marc said, digging in his pocket for notes before she had the chance to protest.
“I was going to pay.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes, feeling tired.
“You can pay next time.” He said, patting her head.
“You always say that and you never let me.” She complained, leaning her weight against him, cheek squished against his warm arm. “Yeah, yeah.” Marc checked his phone for any notifications and scrolled a bit while waiting for their food to be done. When they got their food, they left the joint because there were literally no seats in there, you just collect your food and leave. Marc held the plastic bag in one hand and wrapped the other around Darling’s shoulder just in case she tripped, she didn’t drink much but she exhausted herself to the bone, and he didn’t want to end up in the ER looking after her.
“Do you want to eat in the tube?” He asked.
“No, I’ll get sick. Aren’t there any chairs anywhere?” She asked.
Marc hummed and looked around, spotting a park? A garden? It was really small and fenced, and in the middle, there was a big statue of a man Marc couldn’t recognise. He walked closer and saw that there was an empty bench inside. Perfect.
They got settled down, Marc unwrapped their food and Darling complained about the cold bench against her thighs. “Sit on the jacket.” He said, opening his Coke and taking a sip.
“But then my back will touch the bench.” She complained and Marc rolled his eyes.
“Just eat your food.” He said and they dug in.
They didn’t speak for a long time, both looking up at the dark sky. There were no stars to be seen due to the city lights, but they could see the moon and the clouds. It was as peaceful as London could get. When they were done, they collected the trash in the plastic bag but didn’t move, still sitting on the bench, looking at the moon together. “Uhm-” Marc spoke and Darling turned to look at him. As soon as she met his eyes, he snapped his mouth shut.
Darling didn’t say anything, just looked at him with an open expression, eyes heavy-lidded due to sleepiness. Marc licked his lower lip and parted his lips to speak but nothing came out. So instead, he opted for squeezing one of her knees in his warm hand, trying to make her understand what he was trying to say with his eyes.
He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to say that he appreciated her taking him out with her. He appreciated her patience and kindness. He appreciated how she never judged him for being himself. How she was brave and strong and didn’t get scared easily.
And Darling understood.
🌙
It was around 12 in the afternoon the next day when Darling got a text message from one of her uni friends. She frowned in confusion, she usually never received any messages from them during the weekends. She put her spoon in her cereal bowl as she chewed, and paused the YouTube video she was watching on her laptop.
Darling opened the message. It was two messages actually, one of them read, “Is this you?” And the other was a link.
She suddenly felt scared as her finger hovered over the link, she was sure she had a good digital footprint. I mean, she had profiles where family and friends followed, and she also had separate accounts online where she caused havoc without revealing her identity. And she was sure there was no way anyone she knew in real life could find her accounts and link them to her. She was careful.
Darling opened the link and instead of loading in a browser tab, it opened the TikTok app. Now, what the hell is this?
At first, she didn’t know what she was looking at, but her brain caught on and she felt like screaming. It was a video of the day before, from the club. There she was dancing battling Marc in the middle of the circle. Her jaw was on the floor, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Then she looked at the likes and screamed because why did it have 2M likes?
Her finger pressed the comment section before she could think and was flooded with comments like “This is what I mean when I say I want to go to the club”, “Okay but why did he eat?”, “Where is this??”, “Get this man in a Step Up movie NOW”, “Goo Goo Ga Ga”.
Darling leapt off the bed laughing and scrambled out of her flat, phone in hand. She didn’t even bother to wear slippers and instead ran over next door, Steven’s door, knocking quickly. When the door didn’t open in a millisecond, she turned the doorknob and walked inside without bothering to shut the door properly behind her, “Marc, you have to see this!”
Marc was in bed, shirtless and wearing a pair of loose PJ bottoms, wearing his reading glasses as he read his book. Well, he wasn’t reading it now . He was looking at Darling with an annoyed expression. She ignored it and ran to him, but not without throwing a quick “Hi, Gus” to the tank. She dived knees first on his bed and he sighed, slamming his book shut and placing it on the bedside table.
“What do you want?”
“Look!” She held her phone in front of his face and he tried to comprehend what he was looking at. Darling saw the moment he realised what it was, he grabbed the phone with both hands, a look of horror plastered on his face. “All of London saw the video. You’re viral, Marc.”
“Delete it.” He said without ripping his eyes from the screen.
“What?” Darling frowned.
“Delete it. Right now.” He repeated.
“It’s not my video. I can’t delete it.” Darling said and Marc dropped the phone in his lap, gathering his head in his hands, groaning. He truly had fun, but he didn’t know how he felt about all of London seeing this video.
Darling picked up her phone again, “I’m going to send it to DuChamp, he’s going to love it.”
Marc screamed and ripped the phone away from her hands, scaring her. She got scared not because he had taken her phone but because she never heard the man scream before. “Give it back!” She said, trying to grab her phone but Marc didn’t let her. It was a struggle because not only Marc was stronger, way stronger, but he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt so she didn’t have any grip on him, except his shoulders and hair. But she knew if she even thought about pulling his hair he’d throw her out of the window. “I’m going to report the video so it can be taken down.” He said and Darling gasped, “You don’t even know how to do that! You never used TikTok in your life, boomer!”
“Watch me,” Marc said through gritted teeth as Darling struggled against him, then she somehow managed to wrap her arms around his free arm and threw herself down on the bed, back first and swung her legs up to wrap them around his head, choking him. Marc let out a surprised shout, his eyes sent 500 million invisible daggers to Darling. He threw the phone down on the floor, out of her reach and lifted her off the bed, her legs still wrapped around his neck and she screamed when he flipped them around and slammed her down on the bed, head first, WWE style.
The two kept wrestling and clawing at each other until Darling ended up in a headlock, Marc squishing her body on the bed with his whole weight, “Help!” She wheezed, clawing at him, trying to get away from him. “Quit it.” He hissed as she tried to kick him with the heel of her foot on his ass.
A cough startled the two out of their fight, both of them looked up and Marc froze.
“What are you…doing?” Layla asked, looking at Marc, then back down at Darling. She had her phone in her hand, and a big Tesco shopping bag in the other. God bless her heart, she brought her disaster of not-technically-divorced husband groceries.
“Oooh, is that the bad bitch you fumbled-”
🌙
Tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb @softieekayy @fem-moony @peachjellypackets @pakhiya @darlinglittledevil @anixluxtt @mrs-cupidd @gebgeb @poeticabomination
this work is part of the "I'm friends with the moon" series. You can read it as a stand-alone or delve deeper into this AU.
#moon knight#mr knight#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#layla el faouly#moon system#moon boys#moon knight system#moon knight fic#moon knight funny#marvel moon knight#moon knight fanfic#moon knight 2022#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight fluff#moon knight imagine#moon knight mcu#moon knight x reader#moon knight x you#moon knight x y/n#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x you#marc spector x reader#marc spector x f!reader
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Waters
Summary: Layla knows your body well, almost too well, and she knows how to put on a show.
Pairing: Layla El-Faouly x f!Reader x Marc Spector
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: polyamory, smut (18+ only please), wlw, fingering, literally no plot here besties, (I would love to write for this pairing more)
A/N: Your honour my bi ass loves these two so fucking much. Also this is me trying to hone my smut writing skills, so please bear with me as I improve. Written to celebrate one year of Moon Knight!
I don't own photos or characters, divider from @firefly-graphics
Layla is making the sweetest sounds from underneath you, touching you in ways that drive you mad.
Your hands are in her hair, as they have been thousands of times before. It’s the thousands of times that you hope will come that make your head dizzy.
You’ve always been a little obsessed with her hair.
It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about her.
Her curls had been blowing in the wind, moving in a way that made you think they had a mind of their own. She had walked into the cafe, caught your eyes briefly and that had been the start of your infatuation with her.
From the very beginning, you had wanted to touch them, to curl your fingers around them and watch them bounce into place.
Now that you get the chance to touch, to curl, and do much more you snatch at it with greedy hands, tugging her hair when her head is buried between your thighs, when her mouth is against yours, stroking it softly when you’re both spent and sweaty and in each other’s arms.
In a breath, you’re kissing her again, pushing your hips down into hers and getting her to open her mouth for your tongue. She whimpers as if she’s the one that turns into putty in your hands when the two of you are like this; you’re more than certain that if you stood up now, your legs would give out underneath you.
Falling in love with the rest of her, had been just as simple, just as right as the way she had come over and sat down at your table and started to talk with you, offering to buy you a muffin and just as easy as the way the conversation had bled into dinner and ended the night with her lips against yours.
Layla was beautiful in ways you were still learning about. Her voice, with the honeyed accent laced into it, the curve of her eyebrows, the slope of her shoulders and her golden skin with the freckles littered over her chest. Everyday you woke up and found something new about her that you’d obsess over.
She had permeated into your system like a hazy cloud, an emulsion. An addiction you never wanted to quit because though it did take you apart, it also put you back together in the best of ways.
You feel her reach under your shirt, to trace the outline of your spine and she hums happily. She comes to cup at your breast, moving her hand in ways that’s oddly reminiscent of the waves of the ocean.
It’s just the way you liked it and the dynamic has started to show its true colours.
In truth, Layla could get you to do close to anything with just a flick of her head. She held a shocking amount of power over you in her hands.
Her other hand comes to mirror her movements, and you’re sure now that you’re dripping for her, lust wet between your thighs. Your soul is trembling with need but you don’t know for what, all you know is the rapidly growing desire for Layla to touch you more because if she doesn’t you’ll soon enough go out of your mind.
As if she can hear your thoughts, her fingers start to trail down your stomach, a tantalising trail that both satiates and lights up your desire from the inside.
“Layla…” your voice is drowning in desperation.
“Baby…” even if she aims to imitate you, it’s an imitation. She has a remarkable control over herself during times like these, one you can only dream of having during your most clear-headed moments.
The tips of her fingers are cool as they trace the line of your underwear, teasing you towards an edge she could send you hurdling over in minutes if she wanted to.
But where would be the fun in that?
Half of Layla’s pleasure comes from driving you out of your mind with lust and want. She makes a practice of laying you out underneath her and pressing your buttons to see how long it will take you to snap. To see how long she can practise her discipline and when she’ll snap too and make you see stars ten times over.
She’ll kiss you and tease you until you're dripping down your thighs and into the bed below you but then she’ll always make up for it by fucking you good and solid afterwards.
Layla had been the one to teach you what good sex meant, who lit up nerves in your body you’d doubted the existence of.
With her, you’ve never felt more alive.
You’re drawn out of your heady thoughts, already in anticipation of what’s to come after she’s had her fun with you, by the sound of your name dressed up in her voice. You realise too late that she’s asked you a question.
Her hand comes to rest on the side of your neck, and she leans in, starting to press opiate-like kisses from the soft bit of skin behind your ear, moving down your neck, “Hm, sweetheart? What do you want?”
“Touch me,” it’s a pathetic little whimper. Though you know what you want, mustering up the words to say it takes a herculean effort. As your relationship bloomed, Layla became an expert in making you scream. She knows your body better than you and makes it insanely difficult to speak.
“Where?” her hand reaches back and grabs your ass possessively. You whimper and thrust forward, hunting for friction. She tsks when you don’t answer, pulling back and raising an eyebrow in warning.
Instead of speaking, you show. Her other hand in yours, you guide her to your pussy, bring her fingers to your clit so she can get an idea of what you want and how wet she’s made you.
Her eyes widen.
If you were with another shame would be quick to lick up your back, have you pulling away and apologising. Layla had been quick to train you out of it. Falling into bed together is a delicate dance of give and take. She’s shown how much you want her and she shows how much she likes it in turn.
But this time she’s not expected this much and this quickly.
She starts to say your name when you cut her off, pressing her fingers forward against your core, making you moan out loud. With your free hand, you come to cup her breast, the comforting weight of it sitting heavily in your palm.
You start to caress in the ways she likes it, both hands moving in tandem to bring the both of you pleasure. Her eyes flutter closed and flutter open just as quickly when you pinch her nipple, a gasp running out of her that makes another wave of arousal flood from your legs.
The friction on your cunt having quickly gone from satisfying to the end of adequate, you cry out, at a wit’s end, “Layla, please.” There’s a fuzz of hunger around your mind. Words have evaded you, your lust for her so deep and driving that you ache for a release in your bone marrow.
The press of her skin against yours and the heat of her gaze as she comes to recognise how little you’ll be able to manage to hold on for her is a salve, it could bring tears to your eyes.
She helps you strip off your shirt, and almost immediately her hands are in your underwear.
She teases only slightly, enough to wet her fingers and drive you just a little further up the wall. Though it doesn’t need it, she runs her hand through your folds to get it wet, and with an insistent press of her thumb against your clit, she slips two fingers inside you.
It’s the wash of the cool ocean on a hot day and the suffocating smoke from a wood fire at the same time. It makes you cry out and Layla shushes you, “It’s ok, honey, it’s just one to take the edge off.”
She starts at a drunken pace, hitting the right areas at the right times. Though she may tease you to tears, when she does decide that she’s done, she gives you pleasure in spades.
At the bottom of it all, she lives to spoil you.
You’ve only been with one other partner that was like that, who saw your pleasure as their own.
Your hands grapple around her neck and you bring her lips to you, opening your mouth and asking for what you want. As her fingers pull out of you, a delicious friction against your walls, a third one is slipped in the moment her tongue meets yours and makes your synapses tie themselves together. The sounds you’re letting out are unfamiliar to your own ears.
With quick, expert movements she hurdles you towards the edge, swallowing your moans as if they could sustain her if you let her do this long enough to you. Your hands travel from her neck and into her curls, a rock in turbulent waters threatening to take you under.
There’s static in your ears, the only thing you can truly hear being the hammering of your heart, the hurried movements of your blood in your veins turning into riptides.
It’s why you hadn’t heard the lock turning and the soft footsteps that approached you two.
Layla breaks away from your kiss, her fingers incessant in their rhythm, her thumb having moved only to allow the base of her palm to take its place. You’re about to ask her what’s happened, if you can muster the words when a roughened hand takes you by the jaw.
You’re met with the dark gaze of Marc, his eyebrow raised as he struggles to catch his breath at the sight of you. From the looks of him, he’s been watching for a lot longer than you’ve realised.
You want to poke at him with funny questions, ask him why he didn’t want to join, but you’re too far gone, Layla’s free hand having returned to your chest making you feel like an instrument.
Marc leans closer into you, the tip of his nose grazing against yours, and before he kisses you he whispers, “Come, baby.”
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought of it and if you'd like to see more of these three, it means the world to me! Masterlist here.
(I've decided to discontinue tags for my own sanity.)
#marc spector x reader#layla el faouly x reader#marc spector fluff#layla el faouly fluff#smut#marc spector#layla el faouly#layla el faouly x reader x marc spector#marc spector x you#marc spector x y/n#layla el faouly x you#layla el faouly x y/n#marc spector x f!reader#marc spector x female!reader#wlw#layla el faouly x f!reader#layla el faouly x female!reader#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight#moon knight imagine#moon knight fic#oscar isaac
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you deserve to be loved.
marc spector x fem! reader (with mentions of steven grant)
summary: marc spector doesn’t do too well when it comes to his feelings.
warning: angst, swearing, brief mentions of blood/violence, khonshu (yes the bone pigeon most definitely deserves a warning)
word count: 3.3k
gif by @nowritingonthewall
a/n: this is my first oneshot/post on this blog! any feedback on my writing is greatly appreciated! i would also like to say that i’m not an expert on dissociative identity disorder, so if i misrepresented anything in this work, please let me know :)
arguments were routine after a mission.
it had become second nature for you and marc to have this seething disposition toward one another. quite odd for two people who claimed to be in love.
well, only one of you did, and that’s where the problem lied.
marc never opened up. he was like a fortress, completely closed off from anyone and anything. he was closed off from his own alter for god’s sake. he was an incredibly difficult man to get to know, and you were lucky to know him the way you did. not many people saw the softer side of marc spector.
it was the side you craved far too often. seeing that little bit of vulnerability from him was a luxury you would’ve sold your soul to afford. marc built his walls so high it was almost impossible to break them down. but brick by brick, you made your way into his heart, and planted yourself right in the center of it.
it was the most terrifying thing in the world for him. to a man who had so much blood on his hands, nothing compared to the weight that tugged on his heart strings every time you were around. it made him feel like a lovesick teenager to crave your presence, your innocence. he was a capital sinner and you were an angel sent straight from heaven. if he got too close, he was sure he would ruin you.
the two of you arrived back at your motel room in the late hours of the night. marc was covered in blood, simmering with anger as he took in your bruised form. the mission had gone completely haywire and you were stupid enough to get caught in the middle of it. that’s what he told himself, at least. it was easier to blame this failure on you entirely than to accept the fact that he was thrown off his game at the thought of you getting hurt.
khonshu had given him more than an earful about it. steven was quick to counter, but nothing could ease marc’s tired and overwhelmed mind. the only way he knew how to combat it was with anger, and it always lead to a screaming match that prompted a noise complaint.
“marc” you started. “look at me.”
his back remained facing you as he distracted himself with unpacking a duffel bag.
“marc.” this time your voice boomed louder. you didn’t miss the way the muscles in his back tensed. he was fighting it.
with two quick strides across the room, you grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. his hand clasped around your wrist before you could get him to budge.
“don’t.” he warned through gritted teeth.
“no!” you shouted, getting the ball rolling. “we need to talk about this.”
marc huffed. “there’s nothing to talk about.”
you let out a sarcastic chuckle, unamused at his poor attempt to diffuse the situation. “clearly there is marc, because you haven’t said two words to me since we set foot in this building.”
“what do you want me to say?” he snapped, finally meeting your gaze. “that you weren’t a complete fucking idiot out there? that everything went great? because it didn’t.”
“i’m not oblivious to the fact that things didn’t go as planned, okay? but you don’t need to throw a fit like a child because of it.”
“a fit?” he repeated. there was a darkness in his eyes that only appeared when he was on another level of seething. “is that what you think this is?”
you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “i’ve babysat enough kids in my lifetime to spot a tantrum from a mile away.”
something snapped inside him amd he was chucking a piece of glassware at the wall before he even realized it. the shattering noise sent a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch at the unexpected outburst. you were used to witnessing the more violent side of marc, but this was the first time it had ever been directed towards you.
“do you have any fucking idea what this is like?” he exclaimed, pointing a finger in your direction. “to do this? to have a mind that isn’t my own? to have choices that aren’t my own?”
you stood there, speechless. in all of your arguments, marc’s distaste for his work as an avatar never came up. it was new, unfamiliar territory, and you were unsure of how to tread. you went to walk towards him, but he shot you such a disgusted glance it made you nauseous. you retreated back to your position against the wall.
marc started pacing back and forth in the small living space, fingers running rampant through his dark curls. you wondered if steven had been trying to talk him down when his steps began to falter and he turned to face you.
“this can’t happen anymore.”
“so you’re benching me?”
he let out an exasperated sigh. “no.”
“then what is it marc?”
he hesitated for a moment. “this” he motioned back and forth between the two of you. “this, can’t happen anymore.”
your face dropped, heart thundering like a freight train in your chest as you struggled to find the words you wanted to say.
“i’m sorry about wha-”
“for christ’s sake it’s not about tonight” he interrupted. “it’s every day, it’s every waking second, it’s you.”
the edge of those last two words cut through you like the crescent shaped blades of the moonknight suit. there was such an unexpected venom behind them that had a lump forming in your throat. your relationship with the mercenary was far from perfect, but you thought the love you had for one another was strong enough to survive it. now, it was more than clear to you that the love was one sided.
except for the fact that it wasn’t. marc would’ve given you every corner of the earth and heaven above if that’s what you wanted. he would’ve burned it all down to the ground, he would’ve done anything to make you happy. to have you smile at him like he was a man worthy of your love. it was the only time he felt whole, when you looked at him like that, not like how you were looking at him now; a fractured version of the woman he fell in love with.
he had no one but himself to blame for the damage.
silent, hot tears, began streaming down your face as the two of you just stared at each other. it hurt more than if you were to scream and yell at him. marc was used to that; he had grown accustomed to the fighting. he never thought he would make you cry. the image of your betrayed expression would likely be burned into his memory forever.
he tried to convince himself it was better this way. that it was better for the both of you if he just walked out of your life. you’d be protected from the baggage he carried, and he wouldn’t have to face the music. marc was almost certain he could live with it until he heard steven’s accented voice ring in his head.
what the hell have you done?
every memory the two of you shared came rushing to the forefront of his mind. the first time he kissed you, when he finally opened up to you about his past, the first time you told him you loved him, all of it, came rushing through his brain like a dam about to burst. marc hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt a single tear cascade down his cheek.
your bottom lip quivered and an inescapable sob wracked through your body. your knees gave out as you collapsed onto the floor, hand clamped over your mouth in attempt to stifle your broken cries.
that was the last straw for marc. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gave the body to steven. he couldn’t take another minute of seeing you in that kind of emotional distress, especially knowing he was the cause of it.
as steven adjusted to having a physique again, he quickly made his way to you, crouching down to your level.
“are you alright?” he breathed, voice barely a whisper. all you could do was shake your head no, and in an instant he pulled you into an embrace.
this wasn’t the first time marc left steven to clean up his personal messes. oftentimes there were fights that left the two of you giving each other the silent treatment. marc was never ready to admit when he was wrong, so he instead gave the body to steven in efforts to transition into an apology. steven just had a way with you that he didn’t. there was a gentleness to him that no matter how much marc tried, he just didn’t have.
it was moments like these when he was grateful for it. he watched in the dusty mirror of the motel room as steven pushed himself against the wall, your face buried in the fabric of his shirt as you cried your eyes out. he ran a hand softly up and down your back while the other was carded in your hair, caressing your scalp. his lips were pressed tightly against the crown of your head, whispering apologies and muttering how marc didn’t really mean it. truly, steven wasn’t sure if he believed his own words
he shot marc a disappointed glare. as someone who was more often than not the mediator in your complicated relationship, he knew full well how infatuated marc became. you were all he could think about, and in turn, all steven could think about. he had grown to love you in the way that marc did, and it cut him to the core to see you in such a state.
steven was silently urging marc to make this right, because he had a gut feeling that if he didn't fix this now, that was it. you would walk out of both their lives completely. steven hoped you wouldn't, but he knew it was possible. you couldn't just live with those words, and he was cursed to share a face with marc. there's no way you could look at steven, and not immediately think of the man who hurt you the most.
marc was dancing around it. he knew that there was no way to take it back, he knew it the minute that cruel remark left his lips. now he was torn between further complicating it, or just cutting himself off. as his heart began to sink, a weight heavier than anything khonshu could've bestowed, he knew it was the latter.
he gave steven a nod in the mirror before reclaiming the body. this simple admission was far scarier than anything he had ever done before. three words that held more weight than any barrage of bullets could, and he still feared this would kill him quicker.
just get on with it mate. you know you love her.
the rubbing on your back halted and there was a change in posture. less relaxed. you knew marc had come back. you were quick to straighten yourself out and sit up. before you could get to your feet, marc's hand intertwined with yours.
to his surprise, you didn't move. you still couldn't look at him, but you didn't snatch your hand back and walk away. that had to have meant something, right? he clung to that small piece of hope as you lowered yourself back down to the floor.
he swallowed hard. his palms had grown incredibly sweaty and he hoped you didn't notice the way he wiped them on his jeans. marc opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he tried again, and again, but all that came out was an embarrassing collection of stuttering breaths.
"spit it out marc." you finally said, voice monotone.
he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. he was losing all resolve, and there was a genuine worry that he wouldn't be able to say it. for once, his unpredictable mind did him a favor as he was transported back to the night the two of you met.
it was a rainy evening in london. marc had been there to make sure everything was in tip top shape with steven's apartment. after having been gone for an extended period of time, he unfortunately forgot about gus, steven's fish, and rushed to the pet store to get a replacement. he spent majority of the day running odds and ends of errands and just wanted to relax. there was a quaint pub just a few blocks away. marc was sure that steven didn't keep any booze around, so he found himself trotting in the direction of the neon sign.
stupidly, he hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. he has been in and out of the city enough times to know the particularly gloomy skies. he grumbled to himself as he walked into the establishment, donned "the full moon", drenched from head to toe. uncomfortably, he slid onto a stool at the bar, and ordered a drink.
he was content with being alone, no one bothering to occupy the slightly damp seats on either side of him. it was a sense of peace, though temporary.
"how did you manage to forget an umbrella?"
marc was surprised to hear a soft voice from behind him. he turned to find you, standing a few feet away, eyeing him curiously.
"just didn't think to" he shrugged, sipping on his beer.
you snickered. "you must not be from around here."
normally he would've rolled his eyes and ignored whoever was bugging him, but there was something about you, as cliche as it was to admit. marc was relatively good at reading people before khonshu, but with the addition of another opinion inside his brain, he picked up on who was and wasn't a decent person fairly quickly. there was an energy about you he couldn't quite place.
likewise, there was something about marc that you were enthralled with. he was inarguably a very attractive man, and he carried a mysterious aura that surely made any woman swoon. you would've internally questioned anyone dumb enough to forget an umbrella in the constant dampness of london's weather, but your mouth acted before your mind did, and you found yourself in a quip with the handsome stranger.
you noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly at your deadpan. you headed for one of the empty seats beside him. he didn't object, and you took that as a victory. the two of you sat there in silence for a few moments, as he sipped away at his drink and your ordered one of your own.
"marc." he finally spoke, turning to face you. it was the first time you could get a clear look at his face. he had strong bone structure, almost god like, and there were small scars that littered his features. his dark irises held more depth than just the color. there was so much swimming behind them, and with the way he was looking at you, all you wanted to do was drown.
you gave him your name and the rest was history.
marc thought back to that night often. he thought about how he was torn between just staying in the apartment and going out. he thought about the fact that he had been considering going down a block further; that he would've missed you entirely. you were the one gift the universe offered him, and he almost didn't take it.
he thought about how easily that first conversation flowed out. the fact that you sat at the bar nursing those same drinks for three hours before either of you took note of the time. he thought about how you offered to walk back to the apartment with him, just so he wouldn't get wet again. marc replayed that moment at the door, over and over again, like a broken record.
"aren't you glad you agreed to let me walk you back here?" you teased, shaking the stray raindrops off your umbrella.
"i would've sufficed" he replied with a wave of his hand, but truly he was glad to have avoided feeling like a drowned rat for the second time today, and more importantly, it was more time soaking in your presence. he awkwardly fiddled in his pocket for the key, hoping you wouldn't ask to come back inside. it was a abnormal situation he really didn't want to explain to anyone, especially not a girl he was really hoping to see again.
you teetered back and forth on your feet anxiously. it was too much to expect him to invite you inside, right? i mean there was clearly no indication of this going further, and marc seemed like he was a busy man.
"well i better get going" you finally spoke, easing some of the awkwardness out of the air. "i've got work tomorrow and i'm sure you do to."
marc looked to you again, half grateful and half disappointed. he snapped out of his temporary bliss.
"it's... complicated."
you gave him a cheeky grin.
"i can handle complicated."
the last line was what lingered in marc's mind as he sat on the floor of the motel room. somehow, it put together all the pieces of his scattered feelings. you had known, almost from the jump, that he wasn't easy. you knew that he wasn't like every other person on the street. you could tell just by being with him for a few hours that he was screwed up. yet you never faltered.
when he had told you about his duty as an avatar, you were surprisingly calm. confused, as to be expected, but you didn't run. you didn't bolt off into the distance, thinking he was absolutely insane for being indebted to an egyptian god.
marc was sure that would've been it when he told you about steven. it would've been the nail in the coffin and you would be gone. instead, you welcomed the idea of steven with open arms and treated him with the same love and care you did marc.
you were perfect. you were goddamn perfect and marc was so far from it was almost comical. he was unworthy of someone like you, and you deserved better than someone like him.
but there was those three goddamn words, and suddenly marc had uttered them breathlessly, like a whisper of a promise, that he would try and be better. there would be no more fighting, no more yelling, because he had finally caved.
marc spector could finally admit that he needed, cared for, and loved someone.
before he could say it again, your lips captured his in the most passion filled kiss the two of you ever shared. it was a different passion than the lust filled kisses you shared between the sheets. this kiss was an apology for every single time the two of you fought. it was a declaration that he was yours; completely and utterly yours for as long as you would have him.
tears pooled in your eyes again, but not from sadness, from relief. you were relieved that he had finally allowed himself to be human, and to feel all of the things he deserved to feel. he could finally see that he was worthy of being loved.
you pulled away from the kiss and rested your forehead against his. his calloused hands flew to your cheeks, caressing them softly, and wiping the tears away with his thumb.
"you deserved to be loved marc."
he let out the breath he had been holding ever since he returned to the body. the heaviness he normally carried in his chest vanished into the night.
"i deserve to be loved."
#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x f!reader#steven grant#steven grant x reader#steven grant x fem!reader#moon knight#marc spector oneshot#steven grant one shot#moonknight one shot#marc spector fic#steven grant fic#moonknight fic#layla el faouly#oscar issac#marvel#poe dameron#star wars#writing#author#fanfiction
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Already over.
Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.
Word count. 3.4k
Summary.
We been talking for hours
About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end.
Kissing after a conversation
About how we'd probably be better off as friends.
Same time here next weekend
Say, "We won't do this again"
Make me fall where I stand
Only like you can.
It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.
You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.
Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.
The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.
You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.
It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.
The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.
"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.
"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.
You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.
Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.
Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.
"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.
You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.
The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.
"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.
He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.
You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.
"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.
"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.
"It's a fraud."
"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.
"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."
Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.
"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."
Ah. That.
That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.
"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.
How much longer could you go on like this?
After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.
"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.
"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.
You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.
The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.
"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people.
"I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny.
"Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?"
It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud.
"No, no, but…"
"But?"
"We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before.
Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment.
"And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie.
"If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…"
Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!"
The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well.
"We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them.
Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.
"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.
"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, Steven."
"I love you, sweetheart."
Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.
The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.
Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.
"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.
He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.
The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.
Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.
"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.
"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."
You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.
"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.
"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.
He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.
He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.
You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.
"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.
Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.
You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.
When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.
"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"
"Huh?"
"You seem distracted today."
"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.
"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.
Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.
"Can we talk?"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.
Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.
"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."
Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.
"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.
"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.
"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.
Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.
"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.
You were all he had, and he was all you had.
Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.
"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.
"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"
"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.
"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.
You gasped.
"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.
There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.
"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.
He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.
Love at first sight.
"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."
You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.
You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.
After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.
"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.
The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.
"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."
"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."
"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.
"She knows."
Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Ah?"
"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.
"Knows what?"
"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.
Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.
You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.
"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"
"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.
"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.
"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."
Ouch.
"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.
And maybe, not lose Marc either.
"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.
"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.
He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.
"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.
"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"
A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.
"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."
And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.
His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.
"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?
You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.
This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.
You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.
sorry, i got tired of happy endings
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
#steven grant x reader#steven grant#steven grant x you#moon knight#moon knight x you#moon knight x reader#moon boys#moon boys x you#moon boys x reader#moon system#moon system x reader#moon system x you#marvel#oscar isaac#oscar isaac x you#oscar isaac x reader#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you
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Pairing- Layla el Faouly x f!reader x Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley
This is my submission for @flightlessangelwings pride month celebration. I’m new to writing but this month is very special to me so I put my nerves aside and came up with this self indulgent fic.
Summary-Steven asks you about your feelings for Layla after she shows interest in you. Will this change your relationship?
Dialogue prompt- “Can I kiss you?”
CW-Explicit 18+MDNI, mentions of DID,eventual poly relationship,FF dynamics, talks about sexuality, kissing,cursing,light angst,fluff,thigh riding, smut,threesome MFF,oral sex female receiving, fingering, unprotected piv,piv cream pie
WC-3.8k
A/N- Layla is married to Marc and has been previously in an established relationship with the system. Reader is in an established relationship with Steven.Reader is not described or race coded. I will often write that the system can carry/pick up the reader and I am a plus size person who can not be carried by my partner but I like to believe that since they are superheroes they have superhuman strength.
Not beta read
***
Wednesday
You’re lying under Steven, your legs wrapped around his waist while you both try to catch your breath. You’re rubbing slow lines up and down his back as his hot breath blows on your neck.
“Love...that was… incredible.” He raises on his elbows to peer down at you with his sweat tousled curls on his forehead. You can’t help but fall in love with him every time you look into those deep brown eyes. He’s grown soft inside you but he refuses to move. He drops his head down onto your shoulder and lets out a deep sigh.
“Just give me a minute please.” You know he can be needy but the annoyance in his tone is concerning.
“You know I never rush you.” You say as you continue to trace lines up and down his back.
“God no! no! I wasn’t talking to you love.”
“Oh...” It was still weird knowing Marc was present sometimes. You haven't been intimate with him obviously not wanting to cross a line with Layla. You were with Steven and she was with Marc. You’ve been on a few dates with Jake but his shyness prevented him from fronting too often.
“I…well we have been meaning to talk to you about something.” You can sense his more than normal nervous behavior. “It’s about Layla.” You have been dreading this moment for months, the conversation you knew would come when she grew tired of sharing. She married Marc and later became established with Steven and Jake but according to Steven he’s not been with her since you met on your first day at the museum.
Surprisingly you took to his confession of having D.I.D very well. It took him several more weeks to reveal they are moon knight to which you also took in stride. It was the follow up conversation about the fact that he was technically married that you didn’t take lightly. It took you a week of reflection and a long conversation with Layla to convince you to give him another chance. No one has ever treated you like Steven and you didn’t want to give that up.
Steven often stayed at your place to give Layla her space, you knew she missed him but she always respected your relationship. When they were off doing khonshus bidding you would often have a girls night with Layla. Recently you weren’t sure how to grapple with the feelings you’ve been having towards her. You haven’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. There was no need to further complicate your already intricate relationship.
“Um…Steven, if I need to talk to Marc I would prefer we get cleaned up and put some clothes on.”
“Sorry love I didn’t mean to worry you, he’s not here anymore.” You relax a little but can’t help but worry about the impending conversation. He climbs off you and you shudder at the sudden change in temperature, no longer having his body as a barrier to the cool air in your flat.
“Let me run us a bath and we can talk while we get cleaned up.” The prospect of a relaxing bubble bath with your boyfriend would normally have you on cloud nine, but you’d rather not have such an uncomfortable conversation in such an intimate setting.
“Steven, if you’re going to break up with me I’d rather you do it now,I can just take a shower when you leave.” Your legs are curled underneath you and all you can do is stare at the rumpled sheets desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
“What!” Steven is standing in the doorway of the bathroom wide eyed and horrified at your assumption.
I told you not to bring it up after sex, she’s too vulnerable right now.
“Will you buzz off Marc!” Steven strides towards you and is back on the bed in moments. He bunches you up with the sheets and pulls you into his lap sideways. “ I’m not breaking up with you
Love, I just have something I need to talk to you about and I am a bit nervous.” You look up at him with tears brimming your eyelids and you can all but see his heartbreak.
He cradles your head and kisses you slowly as if it’s your first time. “This is not at all how I wanted this conversation to go.” He stands from the bed with you still in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. He gently sets you down on the toilet as he begins to draw a bath. You can’t help but admire his arms and his broad back as he leans over to test the temperature of the water. He places your favorite lavender bath bomb and chamomile bubble bath in before unraveling you from the sheets and helping you into the bath. You’re enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling as he finds his place behind you pulling your back into his chest.
“I’m just gonna start and I don’t want you to say anything until I let you know I’m done.” You nod your head and you’re thankful you’re not facing him as the tears begin to well again.
“Layla has…really enjoyed your company lately when we’re out.” He pauses and tightens his grip around your waist. “She said it helps her not worry about us so much.”
“I enjoy her company to Steven.” You know he told you not to speak yet but you figured he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.
“She’s actually grown quite fond of you and thought that you might feel the same about her.”
A long silence passes between you and all you can hear are the ragged breaths of Steven and the crackling of the bubbles. You don’t think Stevens even realized that he hasn’t said he’s done speaking and is waiting for you to respond.
“Of course if you don’t feel the same then we don’t need to mention it again, I’m sorry I even brought it up. It's just that Marc pressed on about it…and actually he’s quite fond of you too and well that’s besides the point…I don’t even know what I’m saying any…”
You turn in the bath and stop his rambling with a kiss to his lips as you cradle his face in both hands.
You rise in the water so you can settle yourself in his lap. You lean in to kiss him again and he parts his lips to let your tongue slide in. This slow languid movements leave you both breathless as you pull away for air and can’t help but giggle at his face covered in bubbles.
“I thought Layla had grown sick of this situation and wanted you to end things with me.” He begins to say something but you place a finger on his lips, prompting him to wait just as you had.
“I am still getting to know Marc and Jake but obviously I can’t help but be attracted to someone who looks like my boyfriend.” You know Steven would accept all parts of you but it still made you nervous to open up to him.
“Steven…I’ve been with women before you, but I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I’ve grown to like Layla a lot and I wasn’t sure how to come to terms with my feelings.” Steven releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“That’s wonderful love…Layla was quite nervous that you wouldn’t feel the same and she didn’t want to pressure you.” Steven is beaming up at you as if you’ve presented him a million dollar grant to research Egyptian mythology. “You know I love and accept you for who you are.”
You’re suddenly feeling exposed as the bubbles dissipate and your mind starts wandering. What does this mean? What does she want? He said something about Marc. Would Jake be involved? Would Steven be upset?
He can see you spiraling before his eyes. “Talk to me love.” He starts rubbing soothing circles on your arms.
“Where do we go from here?” You don’t even recognize your voice as you look anywhere but his eyes. He grabs your chin with his forefinger and thumb and pulls you into a chaste kiss.
“Whatever you want to do we will do…no
pressure.We all want you and what’s best for you, as long as you’re safe and happy that’s all we care about.” You wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug, feeling this most content you have in years.
Nice job hermaño, I knew you could do it.
***
Friday
You’ve never been this nervous before to just have dinner with Layla. This was something you did every week while the boys were out but this time felt different. You’ve torn your room apart looking for the right thing to wear, finally opting for a simple blue babydoll dress with a flowy skirt. You wear your hair in its natural state and put on some light makeup to complete the look.
It’s just dinner, relax
You’re standing in front of the door of their shared flat trying to calm your nerves as you smooth down the front on your skirt. You can already smell the wonderful aroma wafting under the door as you begin to knock. Layla opens the door and pulls you into a hug but you’re apprehensive to hug her back act normal.
“Hey hon, come on in, I'm just finishing up the pizza.” You enter the flat and set the bottle of red wine you brought on the counter and take in the sight of delicious homemade pizza.
“I’m making Marc’s favorite for you, he insisted.” She looks up from placing the toppings to wink at you. Why did he insist?
“Oh…everything smells wonderful.” You’re standing nervously at the kitchen island fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I brought some wine,would you like me to pour you a glass?”
“I’d love some, you know where the glasses are.” She points absentmindedly to the cabinet behind her while she finishes topping the pizza. You pour two glasses for the both of you and once she places the pizza in the oven all attention is on you.
“How has work been? Steven said you’ve had to put in some late night shifts.” You’re staring at her wine stained lips and the curls that frame her face. How does she always look so effortlessly beautiful? She has an inquisitive look on her face and you realize you haven’t answered her.
“Umm…it’s been fine, I’m sure you know how much of a pain Donna can be.” You're focused on the wine in your glass instead of her piercing gaze.
“Hey…I can tell you’re nervous and I know Steven talked to you. Nothing has to change. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” It makes her heart swell noticing you’ve put more effort into your appearance than you normally do for your weekly dinner.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous…I care about you a lot and I want to do this right.” She takes your hand in hers and you finally look up and meet her eyes. Neither of you say anything, whatever is happening between you can go unspoken for now.
You both finally relax into a comfortable calm as you eat Pizza and finish the bottle of wine. As the night progresses it feels more and more like how things are supposed to be. Conversation flows freely as you both relax on the couch gossiping about work or sharing your thoughts about the boys.
“I know they look different but Marc and Steven both get that furrowed brow when they’re focused.” She shifts on the couch to face you mimicking that stern look they get. You burst into a fit of laughter at the accuracy.
“Okay but have you seen Jake's serious face?” You squint your eyes and muster up the best version of Jake that you can manage. She leans in close,her lips just a breath away.
“That face is much more adorable than Jake's.” Suddenly you're feeling hot,neither of you pulling away from your close proximity. The tension that’s been building for months is threatening to burst as you wait for her next move.
“Can I kiss you?” She’s practically touching your lips when she asks and you wish she would just do it but you know it’s in her nature to wait for you.
“Yes please.” In a moment her lips are on yours as her hands caress your neck and trail down your jaw. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, feverish in the way her lips slot against yours. She pulls away and you chase her lips with your eyes closed and lips parted trying to catch your breath.
She brushes her thumb along your bottom lip and looks at you as though you hold the world in your eyes. “Your lips are so soft.”
“Do it again please.” The desperation in your voice is unfamiliar but she doesn’t hesitate to oblige your request as her lips crash into yours, you part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in as you moan into her mouth. She pulls you slightly into her lap as you straddle her thigh. Your lips move in tandem as she grabs your waist. You can feel your panties soaked as she grinds your clit over her jeans.
“Sweetheart…you gonna come like this, I’ve barely touched you?” You’re a panting mess as your climax approaches and she doesn’t relent as she trails kisses down your neck,leaving love bites along the way. She moves one hand from your waist and slowly starts trailing your inner thigh. Her fingers dance along the hem of your underwear almost reaching where you need it the most.
The floorboard creaks and you both halt your movements. You look up from the couch and see Mr. Knight standing near the window, the moon still illuminating him in his stark white suit. He’s masked and you can’t see the expression on his face but his chest is heaving and you can’t help but notice the growing bulge in the front of his pants.
You slide off Layla suddenly embarrassed at the state she had you in. She grabs your hand before you can stand and sends you a reassuring squeeze.
“Steven…care to join?” She says in this sweet honey tone. Yet he doesn’t falter, as if he’s frozen to the spot.
Steven move your goddamn feet or I’m taking over the body.
Snapped from his trance Steven begins to walk towards the couch. He takes a seat beside you so that you're situated in between them. He’s yet to reveal his face but his demeanor is definitely your Steven as he begins rubbing soothing circles on your thighs. The combined touch of their hands is all too real and this is territory you’ve never covered before.
“Are you okay with this Love?” Steven is always the observer making sure that this is truly what you want. You slowly nod your head.
“I need you to use your words honey.” You turn your head to Layla and the pet name she’s used many times before holds more weight in this moment.
“Yes this is okay…as long as Steven is…”
“Yes I’m great love this is perfectly alright.”He cuts you off before you can finish. You can’t help but giggle at his sudden burst of enthusiasm.
“Steven…why don’t you give her a kiss to calm her nerves.” Steven grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently tilts your face to him. He withdraws his mask and you can see his pupils blown wide. He kisses you softly as though it’s just the two of you in the room. Two sets of hands are on you as Layla leans against your back leaving hot kisses along your neck.
A soft hand trails up your inner thigh as another cups your breast over your dress. You kiss and bite at Stevens neck as you palm his erection through his pants. He whimpers in your ear as he bucks his hips into your hand. A soft finger pulls your panties to the side and rubs along your slick folds. You drop your head to Stevens shoulder gripping his arms for purchase. She dips two fingers dip into your entrance and you whine into his neck as you begin to rock your hips.
“You’re doing so good for us sweetie.” Layla coos in your ear. She withdraws her fingers from you and you whine at the loss. She holds her fingers up to Stevens lips and taps on them lightly, he takes both fingers in his mouth never breaking eye contact as rolls his tongue around coming off with a loud pop.
“Tastes so good love…why don’t you let her have a taste hmm.” Your brain is short circuiting at the sight. “Yes.” It’s all you can manage with your voice barely above a whisper.
“I think the bed would be better for that…don’t you think?” She says as she takes your hand to stand. Your body is no longer in your control, you can’t feel your legs beneath you but you know you’re moving towards the bedroom. Layla at your front and Steven close behind.
Steven retracts his suit and begins to undress when you enter the room. Leaving him only in his boxers, you can see the strain of his cock against the fabric where a wet spot has formed.
“I think you two are a bit overdressed.” He stands at your back pulling your straps down your shoulders letting your dress fall to the floor revealing your green matching lace set. He moves behind Layla pulling her shirt over her head as you work on the button of her jeans. He slides down her pants and kisses her shoulder when he stands.
This is so not fair
Callate pendejo
Steven does his best to block out the sounds of his head mates but doesn’t shut them off completely. He wants them to see this.
“Lay down against the pillows Steven.” He lays down on the bed with his legs spread wide and his hands at his side. She directs you to lay against him facing her while she sits between your legs. You're shaking from the anticipation and he begins rubbing soothing lines up and down your arms giving you goosebumps. She grabs the hem of your underwear and gently lifts your hips to slide them down.
“Is she always this wet for you?” She smirks at him as she drops her head down between your legs, licking a stripe through your slit. You arch your back at the sensation and Steven moans as you press further into his hard cock. He pulls your knees back to hold your legs open as she dips her tongue into your slick heat. Your whimpers and moans of her name are muffled as Steven swallows them with his mouth on yours.
“She does taste good.” She rocks back on her heels and pulls you up into a kiss. You can taste yourself on her lips as she dips her tongue into your mouth. You start to slide your hand beneath the band of her panties but she stops you.
“Tonight is about you sweetheart.” She’s definitely in control and you decide not to push. “Take off your boxers.” Steven practically rips them trying to get them off as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You don’t think you’ve ever seen it so big, the angry red tip leaking precum all over his stomach.
She coaxes you back to lean against him and grabs the base of his cock causing him to gasp. She drags the tip along your dripping folds and Steven lifts you slightly as he guides you down onto him.
“Oh fuck…Steven it’s too much.” He’s not even all the way in and from this angle he’s hitting something devastating inside you. “Shhh love you can take it just relax.” Your cunt flutters around his thick cock causing a guttural moan from him. She straddles you both and you sink to the hilt. She places her hands on Stevens chest as she rides you grinding her hips into yours. Your mind has gone numb as she fucks you into Steven, each roll of her hips catches on your clit and slides you up and down his length.
“M’so close.” Steven chokes out from behind you as his grip tightens on your hips and his pelvis bucks slightly. She reaches between your bodies and begins rubbing tight circles on your clit as she leans in close and kisses Steven. He picks up his pace slamming you down on his cock over and over as he arches his back lifting the both of you.
“Right. There. Please . Don’t. Stop.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust and you come undone; she grabs your face, pulling you into an awkward three way kiss. Every nerve in your body is alight as she doesn’t let up on your clit, you don’t know if this is the same orgasm or a second that has tears streaming down your face. You clench down on him as he comes with a loud groan shooting hot ropes of cum into your core.
“You did so good, sweetheart.” She kisses you deep as you try to control your cries and aftershocks.
As you come down from your high you realize you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your side facing Steven as Layla plants small kisses on the small of your back. Steven places a soft kiss to your sweat soaked forehead and rolls out of bed.
“I’ll be right back love.” He retreats to the bathroom as you hear the water running.
You turn to face Layla and she can see the worry on your face. “What’s wrong hon? Was this too much?”
“No it’s not that it’s just…you didn’t get very much attention and I feel bad.” She grabs your neck and pulls you into a soft kiss.
“There’s always next time.”
Next time
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.
Happy pride 🏳️🌈
#fawpride2023#steven grant x reader#moon knight#marc spector x reader#moon knight smut#layla el faouly x reader#layla el faouly x you#jake lockley x reader#layla el faouly x reader x Steven grant#moon knight x you#moon knight fanfiction#pride2023#bisexual#moon knight x reader#steven grant
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summary: while having a private moment with your boss, the ceo unexpectedly drops by… or so you think.
pairings: Boss!Layla El-Faouly x afab intern!reader x CEO!Marc Spector.
warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Alt Universe. slight dubcon but reader is willing. power imbalance. free use. f/f -> f/m. established relationship (layla x reader). oral sex (fem receiving). fingering. sex in a private office. dirty talk. praise kink. cum feeding. cream pie.
word count: 3.8k 😅
author’s note: if a fic could come to life, i'd choose this one. thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta'ing and the mental support. i haven't written a fic this long in a while. hope you enjoy. 💙
𝐌��𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
“I have the paperwork all ready for you to sign, Ms. El-Faouly.”
Your boss, Layla, peers up at you with her deep brown eyes from behind her monitor. “Hey, one second. I’ve got to finish this email real quick.” She sends you a soft smile in return before nodding to the right towards a big stack of papers sitting messily on her desk.
Layla had one of the corner offices and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite spot in the entire building. It floods with sunlight all day long and it’s got a great view of the city. Layla was also another reason why it was your favorite.
“How was your day?” She asks, typing as you place the paperwork on top of the stack.
She’s wearing that dark gray, silk blouse and skirt combo you helped her pick out last week during a night out on the town. You told her it made her look powerful and inviting as you got down on your knees for her later that same evening.
“It’s going alright.” You sigh, drawing imaginary patterns on the corner of her desk.
Layla clicks send on the email and turns her attention to you. She leans her elbows on the edge of her desk with a pensive brow. You can see her brain working on ways to fix your problems before you even tell her. “What’s wrong?”
You can’t help but laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I swear.” You raise your hands, shaking your head while the gorgeous woman looks you over quizzically.
Stretching your arms over her desk, you grasp her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just..”
“What is it?” she asks, tucking a few strands of her wild curls behind her ear. She leads you around her desk by your clenched hands and pins your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.”
Your eyes dance around the room, landing everywhere but on her. She gives your chin a slight shake and forces your eyes back to hers.
You take a deep breath. “Am I doing a good job?”
Layla’s heart sinks. “Of course you are. Why on earth-”
“It’s just, it’s so much work.” You cut her off, spilling your worries now that the dam has been broken. “I hate not being able to get everything to you on time. Not to mention there’s so much paperwork. No one ever says thank you but they’ll definitely yell when you’ve done something wrong. I don’t know if I’m doing things right-”
“C’mere, baby.” She ceases your ramble and pulls you down into her lap and into a searing kiss that makes your head swirl.
Tender, yet fierce lips encompass your own, stealing your gasps with fond affection as she winds her arms around your waist and maneuvers you into the position she wants.
You settle into the pose, kneeling over her lap with your legs on the outsides of her thighs, the cushion of her expensive chair a grateful soft bedding as she forms you to her body.
“Should we really be doing this?” You ask between broken, breathless kisses. It was after 5pm, so it was less likely anyone would walk in on you and her. Still, hesitation nestled in your belly.
“Everyone is gone for the night.” She confirms before lewdly dragging her tongue along the seam of your lips. “There’s no need to worry about them.”
Layla presses her forehead against yours sensing your apprehension. She searches your timid eyes for a moment trying to find the right words to express her gratitude.
“You’re doing a wonderful job. I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone. So if they have an issue, they haven’t told anyone,” she says, holding your gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more about how lucky I am to have you. My life has been so much better since you started working here.”
She holds your face, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek. “In more ways than one.” She winks, playfully.
“Layla!” You gasp, lightly swatting her on the chest.
She sends you a look you know all too well. The raised eyebrow and slightly parted lips mean trouble is coming. In a good way.
“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you started.” Her hands tickle your ribs in a flash making your eyes bug as you try to keep your giggles at bay. You squirm incessantly in her lap, wishing you could break free but she had a strong hold around your waist.
Your skirt slid up your thighs in the process of all your wriggling, no longer hiding your want for her as your panties are noticeably soaked through.
“Oh, baby, you really are desperate for me.” She coos, eyes growing soft as she feigns a pout. “Poor baby.”
She skillfully undoes the pearly buttons on your white, flower-patterned blouse, sliding the thin material off your shoulders and onto the floor. Soft, warm hands palm your breasts, feeling your heartbeat beneath your skin before she makes you gasp by wickedly pinching your sensitive nipples.
She teases her fingers down further then and along the soaked cloth of your panties, drawing light circles over your throbbing, hidden clit. You whimper into her chocolate curls, a soft pathetic mewl, begging her for more as you perch wearily in her lap.
“What do you say?” she asks with a sharp tongue and pointed stare.
She weaves her arm around your hips, smoothing a palm over the curve of your ass and dragging your panties down in the process before seeking out your aching warmth once more. A well-manicured finger teases down the slick, puffy seam of you from behind, teasing and torturing you until she’s satisfied. She loves breaking you into little pieces and putting you back together.
“Please-” You gasp as your hips buck on their own accord, chasing her fingers for relief. “Please, Layla.”
The older woman’s painted lips tug into a sly smile, “That’s my good girl.”
Your world is consumed. Her brunette curls smell of lavender and spice. They tickle your cheek and senses as she plays your body like a well tuned piano. Her hold on you is immense. There’s never any doubt that she doesn’t adore you.
“Look at me, sweetheart.” Layla coos, grasping the back of your neck with her free hand as her other cups your searing mound. You jolt from the touch but do as she says, meeting her soft yet stoic expression with watery eyes.
She pins you with a firm stare as she slowly presses two fingers into your soaked core. You know better than to turn your gaze from her but your eyes flutter as she finally grants you the sweet relief you’ve been begging for.
“That’s my good girl,” Layla praises as she fills you to the hilt, knuckles grazing your puckered hole and claiming every inch of your cunt.
Deft fingers glide with prowess as a steady, toe curling rhythm is set. Your body trembles as a foggy bliss rolls into your mind. Your knees shake, desperately meeting her thrusts, wanting nothing more than to come around her fingers.
“You take what I give you, sweet girl.” Layla coos, nudging her nose against your cheek. She doesn’t like it when you get greedy. “You know that.”
One of your hands clutches the back of her chair while the other has her blouse in a death grip. A scolding is in your future but you could care less as you rock back onto her fingers chasing the pleasure she’s finally allowing.
Something heavy in your gut twists. The knot Layla began tying when she first got you onto her lap starts tightening. Your muscles ache, ready to collapse under the pressure when she gives you the word.
Just then, a quick succession of knocks rap on her door.
Your head whips up as Layla’s fingers go still. Ice courses through your veins freezing the searing wildfire that burns in your abdomen. You knew it was stupid to try anything at work. Besides the occasionally secretive kiss, you both kept things to a dull roar. No one knew about your relationship and you wanted it to stay that way.
“Shh. Be still.” Layla whispers, unfazed, as she cups her free hand along your jaw. “You trust me. Right?”
You nod in her tender hold, hips pressing just a bit harder into her palm. “Good girl.”
“Who is it?” Layla calls out. Your body jolts as her fingers begin moving again and you send her a bewildered look.
“Marc,” a gruff voice sounds from the other side of the door.
Shit — it was the CEO.
Marc Spector built this company from the ground up. He and Layla had been working together since almost the beginning. They explicitly trusted and respected one another even when they didn’t meet eye to eye.
You’d met Marc only once. It was a brief interaction as one of your coworkers showed you around on your first day. He was personable and made you feel welcome even though you were a lowly intern.
You thought he was handsome and could kill someone with his smile. His jet black quiff would curl on humid days when he forgot to gel it. It made you admire him even more for some reason.
“Come in.” She answers while holding your worried gaze with her own unwavering one.
Your heart jumps into your throat. “Layla, what’re doin-” you hiss, squirming to get free from her arms again.
“Remember your safe word.” she says, quickly just before Marc walks in.
“Layla, I was wonderin-” Marc starts as he steps into the office and instantly cuts himself off at the lewd display.
You can’t breathe. Shame and embarrassment flood your system. If the floor could open up, you’d gladly jump in.
Marc stands in awe. You couldn’t turn to face him but you spy his reflection in the darkened window and that’s more than enough. You don't know how you could ever look him in the eye after this.
“What’s this now?” He ponders, intrigue shaping his words as he steps closer, tapping his knuckles on Layla’s oversized desk.
“I was just rewarding her for doing such a good job,” Layla responds like she doesn’t have you propped in her lap with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.
You see Marc nod in the reflection and take another step closer. Your body burns like red hot coals as you feel his eyes on your body mainly where Layla’s fingers slowly thrust into your shiny, slick opening.
“That right?” Marc questions with a curious tone as he rubs a hand along his rough five o’clock shadow.
“She’s so attentive and such a hard worker.” Layla praises, finally looking in your direction. “I had to show how much I appreciate her.”
Marc chuckles. It’s a deep huff of laughter that rumbles from his chest and it makes your insides melt. “Is she any good at helping relieve some stress?” he asks pensively while looking at your holes like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“She most certainly is,” Layla smirks, raising a sculpted brow before sliding a finger under your chin, tipping your face in toward her. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Your heart drops into your stomach.
You’d been with Layla since the first day you started working, shared any and all free time together along with the inner workings of your bedroom. Explored each other’s bodies freely and with such passion. Falling to Layla’s feet came naturally to you and she made you feel complete; loved even.
You trusted her to push your limits whenever the time came but you didn’t think you’d ever be in this situation.
“Why don’t you show him how much you love being employed here, baby.” She dubiously insists, slowly nodding her head for you to comply.
You finally gather the courage to look over your shoulder.
Butterflies flutter wildly in your belly as you take in the devilishly handsome man. His hair is mused, like he’d been running a hand through it all day and his button up shirt is loose at the collar, exposing a column of tan skin with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
A nervous chortle bubbles up your throat at the nickname. Your insides turn to jelly; and your brain to mush. Your core can’t help but clench as the older man takes you in with a ravenous gaze.
“Oh, she likes that.” Layla quips upon feeling your pussy clamp down on her fingers.
“Does she now?” Marc croons, stepping up right behind you. He smooths his hands along the shape of you. His warmth feels good against your skin and you can’t help but moan when Layla curls her fingers along that spongy spot that makes you feel lightheaded.
“Damn, that’s a pretty pussy.” He drawls, crouching down behind your bent form. With your ass in the air, you already felt so exposed and now the owner of the company was getting a front row view of the most private parts of you.
Sticky, wet noises fill the room as Layla splays her fingers deep inside your velvet channel. You bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. So overstimulated and heated, you’re not sure how much more you can take.
“Want a taste?’ Layla asks, jogging you from your stupor.
Marc grunts in response. You look back in time to watch Layla feeding him her shiny, cream coated fingers. The debauched noise he makes while he licks and sucks her fingers clean has your heart falling into your lower half.
You meet his lust filled gaze as he stands. Layla’s fingers leave his lips with a pop, and he palms his hard length through his dark slacks. “You gonna show me how good you are at serving your superiors?”
A nervous whimper escapes from your throat at his question.
His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, lapping at some of your fallen cream as he pulls his cock out and gives it a languid tug. You watch dumbstruck as he pumps his length, from the obscenely thick base that’s littered with dark wiry hairs to a bulbous, desert blush tip that weeps in his hand after every twist.
“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” he questions.
A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth at your stupefied gaze. Marc raises a hand and grasps the back of your neck, moving your head in a crude up-down motion. “This is how you say, yes.”
Another deep chuckle burrows into your brain and makes you go even more dumb.
Fire ignites in your belly and races up your body, making your face burn. Your mouth bobs open and closed like a fish, wanting to answer him but you can’t even form the simplest word.
“She tends to go a bit brain dead when she gets overwhelmed.” Layla thankfully answers for you.
She thumbs your cheek. “But that pretty pussy of hers makes up for it.”
“You don’t say…” Marc quips before tapping his tip on your soaked folds. Your slick drips down your inner thighs showing that you would indeed make up for your lack of communication.
He notches the thick head past your dripping opening before slowly sinking into your cunt. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, pressing his full length all the way and grinding the cut of his hips against your ass.
“God damn.” Marc grits, hissing through his teeth at the way you squeeze him.
You whimper from the immense stretch. It feels like his cock is burrowing a new space inside your body. “Layla. Too much–” You gasp, having never felt so full before. “So. Big.”
She cups her hands around your face, hushing your cries. “I know, baby. I know.”
Marc’s hips never falter. He plunges into your heat with an unyielding, merciless pace, pushing slick and cream from between your folds, making your belly twist in pleasurable pain.
His strong hands knead your fleshy hips, pulling you back on every brute shove, forcing you to take every inch he gives. “Such a good girl. Doin’ just what we say.”
Your core clenches that much tighter knowing you’re making them happy. “You love it don’t you, pretty girl?” His heavy balls slap against your exposed clit making you mewl and writhe in the combined hold they had on you.
Sticky, sweet bliss drowns your senses. You’re a wanton mess. A plaything between two beautiful gods as they have their fun..
You whine when Marc slows his rhythm, canting his hips so his cock stays buried deep. “I thought you were one of the best.” Marc sighs with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “But it seems you’re not as attentive as I thought.”
Your brow furrows as you look at him over your shoulder.
“I think it’s time to show your Boss how much you appreciate her.”
Marc moves quickly, dragging you out of Layla’s arms and down onto your knees in front of her spread legs. Layla quirks a brow at him.
“What? I wanted to see how attentive she really was.” Marc says, talking about you like you weren’t speared open on his heavy cock.
Layla pulls her dress up over her legs and spreads her thighs. Her panties looked much like your own, wet, sticky, and just begging to be removed.
“Go on. Show her how much you love being on your knees for her.” Marc commands. With a snap of his hips, he jolts your bones and forces your head between Layla’s thighs. “Eat your boss’s cunt.”
Heat flames your face at his words when a familiar hand curves around your jaw. Layla pulls her panties to the side and leads you gently, well as gently as she can while you’re being plowed from behind, to her slick folds.
She sighs as your tongue licks a long stripe from her weeping opening to her clit. You flick the tiny nub, drawing tight circles for a brief moment before sliding down her folds. You lap hungrily at her slit, freely licking into her tight hole and sliding your tongue in and out from her heat.
“There you go.” Layla coos down at you with a smile. She scratches her nails along your scalp making you purr against her clit. She grinds her cunt against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. Nothing made you happier than making Layla feel good. Your core throbs when she gasps and fucks her mound onto your tongue.
A rough, grating moan crawls from Marc’s chest as your cunt quivers and milks his length. “Such a good girl letting us use you like this.” He grits, slamming his hips harder into your ass and knocking your face steadily into Layla’s cunt. “Like you were made for it.”
Your core spasms at his words. You did love being on your knees for them. At their beck and call, wanting to be of service however they needed.
Marc lays his body along your spine, pressing his clothed chest against your bare back, and nuzzles his curved nose along your cheek. A large hand slinks around your hip and notches nimble fingers against your clit, swirling tight circles around the throbbing nub. “Wanna know all the pretty noises you make when you come.”
“Oh, they’re just the sweetest.” Layla moans, breathlessly as your lips lock around her clit. You suckle the tiny nub until
she’s digging her fingers into your hair, writhing and gasping.
Marc groans at the sight of his business partner unfurling with pleasure. His breath is hot in your ear and he crowds you even more, leaving no chance of escape.
“Come on, girl. Be good and come for us.” Marc commands, shifting his hips until his throbbing tip grazes that hidden spot behind your clit.
With Layla humping your face and Marc sheathing his cock further inside you with every shove, you’re pushed to the edge before you can even think. Your cream coated lips fall open with a feverish wail as your body locks tight.
Your muscles shake uncontrollably as you careen off the edge. Your soaked core clenches like a fist, forcing Marc’s pace to stutter and drag him along with you. He lets loose a dark roar when his balls draw up and he fucks your trembling core to the brim with his thick seed.
His cock twitches between your folds, pumping you full with every last drop. “God damn, you weren’t kidding. She more than made up for going all dumb eariler.” He slowly eases from your core with a hiss and tucks his half hard length back into his slacks.
Your head is still reeling from the powerful orgasm and Marc’s compliment makes you just that much more lightheaded. Thank goodness you were already on the ground.
“Oh you’re making such a mess.” Layla gasps when she sees the thick river of white that runs down your thighs. Your knees ache from being on the hard carpet for so long but the pain is forgotten as the pair crowds over you.
You whine as Layla and Marc drag their fingers through the hot stickiness and press them into your mouth.
You gag heavily around the two sets of fingers, tears pricking your eyes as they cover your tongue in the combined spend. “Good girl. Clean up the mess you made.” Marc nods slowly, heavy lidded with a deep moan of satisfaction as you choke and sputter while Layla proudly smiles down at you. “Did so well for me; for us.”
She shares a curious look with Marc before turning her gaze back to you and thumbs the last bit of white into your mouth.
“Might need to borrow her again sometime soon.” Marc comments as they help you onto your feet. “You know how stressed I can get.”
Your legs are shaky, like a newborn doe, as Layla brushes down your crumpled skirt while Marc helps you back into your blouse, securely buttoning you up.
“We’ll see about that.” Layla responds as she gathers you into her arms and sits back down on her chair, tucking your sleepy head under her chin.
“I’ll see you ‘round the office, sweetheart.” He raises a hand and tenderly grazes your dewy temple with his knuckles.
As he sees himself out, he winks at Layla and she smirks before he shuts the door leaving the two of you in peaceful silence.
As you relax in Layla’s arms, burrowing yourself into her safe warmth, you notice through sleepy eyes that her monitor is still on. The email she was typing when you dropped off the paperwork lights up the screen.
𝚃𝙾: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌)
𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 - 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏
𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚕-𝙵𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚢
𝙲𝙵𝙾 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌
*evil laughter* they were in cahoots the entire time!
feel free to scream at me -> 💌
follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!
#layla el faouly#marc spector#Layla el faouly x reader#layla el faouly x reader x marc spector#marc spector x reader#oscar isaac#may calamawy
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*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in June, but that’s when I read them 😊
(thanks for your patience with this y'all, i'm so sorry it took so long to post. working on getting july and august recs out as well ❤️)
🔥 - explicit/mature content
Star Wars
🔥For Your Entertainment (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
Gardens of Babylon (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch (yes i'm rec-ing this again)
You Are in Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite (i will rec this every time i read a new chapter, try and stop meeee)
🔥Clandestine (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok
🔥Good Morning (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @whirlybirbs
🔥favor (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces
Rookie Mistake (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar
🔥Never Before (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
Moon Knight
🔥Prized Possession (Marc Spector x Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
🔥The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story (dbf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
🔥Kisses on your lovers lap (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine
🔥Let Your Fingers to the Talking (Jake Lockley x F!Villain!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
Spoiled Rotten (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
Sprite: Savior (Marc Spector x forest nymph oc Nikini) - @spacecowboyhotch
Bubble Bath (Marc Spector x Reader) - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries
Domestic Fluff (Steven Grant x Housewife!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax
Fluff and Kisses with Marc (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine
Her Hair Reminds Me of a Warm, Safe Place (Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly) - @romanarose
🔥Forever Bittersweet (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
🔥Please (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
🔥take it (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces
🔥apology (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces
🔥willing to give (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @graysonshaven
🔥take my breath (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh
🔥burrowed under my skin (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot
🔥Cállate (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax
🔥Impatient (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
🔥Little Bug (Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
Every You, Every Me (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @astroboots (i haven't finished this yet but i cannot recommend this fic enough)
🔥Soothe & Sleep (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch
🔥Wandering Hands (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @loganlermanstanaccount
tousled, stubbled, tired (Miguel O'Hara x Reader) - @eyelessfaces
🔥Virgin!Miguel w/a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax
🔥Take It All (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose
🔥Make Me A Liar (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar
🔥coming home (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces
Triple Frontier
Blurring Out (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch
Being Will's Girl Would Include (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme
🔥Look What the Cat Dragged In (Santiago Garcia x F!Thief!Reader) - @missdictatorme
For Better, For Worse (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @bullet-prooflove
The Last of Us
To the Rescue (Pre-Outbreak!Joel x F!Reader) - @romanarose
Waffle House penance (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector
Sucker Punch
🔥Needy Little Thing (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor
The Two Faces of January
🔥The Oxford Comma Series (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh (will never stop rec-ing this fic ❤️)
Ex Machina
🔥heavenly praises (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved
🔥old fashioned (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved
🔥chase and pull (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved
🔥indulge me (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved
Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️
*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.
**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know
#poe dameron x reader#rydal keener x reader#santiago garcia x reader#joel miller x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#marc spector x reader#din djarin x reader#blue jones x reader#nathan bateman x reader#will miller x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#marc spector x layla el faouly#marc spector x oc#fic rec
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for the ask game. what are some of your fave fics?
Love reccing fics, thank you for this ask <3 this is by no means a comprehensive list, just what came to mind in this very moment <33333333333333
the meaning of it all and come care about me (Joel Miller x Reader) by @familyvideostevie
Deliver Me From Nowhere (Joel Miller x f!oc) by @atinylittlepain
something wild and unruly and observations (Joel Miller x Reader) and going slow (Javier Pena x Reader) by @ezrasbirdie
bloodshed, crimson clover (Joel Miller x Reader), room for three (Joel Miller x Reader x Arthur Morgan), let me take care of you (Arthur Morgan x Reader) and daydreams (Joel Miller x Reader) by @morning-star-joy
Tiramisu (Marc Spector x Reader) and Waters (Marc Spector x Reader x Layla El-Faouly) and this drabble (Joel Miller x Reader) by @sweetly-yours-and-mine
The Moon To My Stars (Marc Spector and Steven Grant x Reader) and Cinnamon and Honey (Joel Miller x Reader) by @batsingotham
Exile (Joel Miller x f!oc) by @psychedelic-ink
In a Perfect World, You Love Me (Din Djarin x Reader) by @theidiotwhowritesthings
Watch Party (Joel Miller x Reader) by @sweetercalypso
Beloved (Din Djarin x Reader) by @groguspicklejar
#being reminded actually that im due for a cinnamon and honey; salt and vinegar reread#bec talks#fic recs
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What Good Girls Get
Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly
Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.
Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!
"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.
"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.
It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.
That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.
Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.
"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.
"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."
"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.
" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.
"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.
"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.
"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.
"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.
"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.
"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.
Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.
“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.
“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.
“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.
“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.
"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.
"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.
Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.
He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.
Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.
You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.
“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.
“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.
As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.
He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.
As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.
He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.
“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.
“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”
“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.
“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.
He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.
“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.
Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.
She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.
She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.
Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.
“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.
“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.
“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.
Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."
She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.
After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.
With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.
Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.
“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.
“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”
He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.
“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.
Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.
When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.
“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”
“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.
She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.
Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.
"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.
You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.
#moon knight#moon knight smut#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector smut#marc spector x layla el faouly#marc spector x reader x layla el faouly#steven grant#jake lockley
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title: I'm friends with the moon (serie)
pairing: platonic moon boys x fem!reader
summary: steven has a new neighbour next door. She's an university student and is looking to make some friends, so that leads her to talk to steven more and more, first it was because she didn't know much about the apartment building and needed some help once in a while, but then a friendship blooms, and along the way, she finds out they're moon knight.
warnings: they will be provided in individual parts if necessary.
a/n: this au is a mess of social media, texting and proper writing. I just want to be friends with the moon boys. that's all.
parts (any of them can be read as stand alone, they're only in published order, not following a strict timeline):
part 1: the characters' twitter profiles
part 2: why are you dressed like that?
part 3: marc is in his khonshu anti era
part 4: lizzie, I know your secret
part 5: good job, Marc!
part 6: khonshoe? khonshou?
part 7: Chicago Cubs
part 8: carpool karaoke
part 9: #SaveJakesMoustache2023
part 10: The adventures of an ex-mercenary, avatar, cab driver and ex-gift shopist & his university student friend and neighbour
part 11: my hobbies include annoying a depressed man in his 40s on WhatsApp.
part 12: splash
part 13: 40-something Moon Man ROCKS the Dancefloor (REAL ! NOT CLICKBAIT!)
part 14: 3 in 1 Shampoo
part 15: coming soon
#bubuslutty writes#Marc spector#moon knight#moonknight#Mr knight#Steven grant#khonshu#moon knight meme#marc spector x f!reader#marc spector x reader#marc spector#marc spector x y/n#steven grant#steven grant fanfiction#steven grant fluff#steven grant imagine#steven grant x reader#Marc spector fluff#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley fluff#jake lockley fanfiction#mr knight#layla el faouly#moon boys#moon knight mcu#marvel moon knight#mcu moon knight#moon knight 2022#incorrect moon knight quotes
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i want NEED more of layla x marc x reader's relationship bestie !! i feel like layla would've been softer than marc but she'd also would keep it in balance. like usually being soft but stays firm when you're acting bratty and doesn't back up from punishing you,,, and and and do you think she'd be more into praising or degrading you ???
ops i totally forgot about marc being in the relationship too --
all ours.
pairing: layla el faouly x (f)reader x marc spector
word count: 965
warnings: minors dni please, pov switch, illusions of sex, oral, fingering, cum eating, choking, slight hand kink, praising, dom/sub undertones, layla wears the pants in this three way ok.
etc: bestie when i tell you i blacked out in bi when i wrote this i mean it, like layla? dream, please give me a chance. marc AND layla? thee dream team that i would sell my soul to get a chance with! i also made marc the softer one….because i couldn’t help myself lmaksk.
i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!
“Look at her,” Layla’s grin is more mocking than it is soothing; happy, teasing. The swipe of her fingers spreading your folds, the slick sound as they move against your clit - just enough to touch, a small taste of what you want, what you need - makes your cheeks heat even more; your teeth dig into your already sore bottom lip.
When she lifts her fingers, your hips try to trail after them pathetically. The two fingers she holds up are visibly wet, coated, your arousal put on display for the three of you. The smirk she sends Marc makes your stomach sink, your resolve breaking. You would feel embarrassed, should feel embarrassed, neither of them have touched you all night. At least nothing more than the small fleeting ones here and there; a brush to your back through your dress, a puff of air from speaking close to your neck, your ear, wafting over your skin. The tiniest of finger grazes when Layla would give or take.
No it was the looks they had given you. The lack of the deep set scowl that faded away when Marc was in the mood. The way Layla’s eyes kept sweeping along your body, how she would comment on how cute you looked to Marc, “Isn’t she so pretty? So beautiful, all ours”. The smile that followed from the statements a mix of teasing and admiration that sent your stomach plummeting, and heart racing.
And maybe that's why she did it. Maybe she loved watching you squirm, or watching the way it was so easy to tell you wanted them, wanted her - it was always the same.
It wasn't hard for her to see it, to see that shift in your body. The looks, the way you pressed your thighs closer together, or the way you kept staring at her hands. Your eyes sweeping over each finger, her wrist, her palm, whatever object she was holding or touching at that moment - the gleam of want in your eye, the hard bob of your throat - the dirty thoughts she was sure were going through your head making you move uncomfortably in your seat. Layla could feel the gravitational pull of your body, of your need, the more you would stare, the less you would talk; the heavier your breath got when she would take pity on you and give you only a taste of what you wanted.
Layla could read you like the back of her hand, as could Marc. You displayed your lust like a beautiful picture book to them, always open, always ready to be read, to be learned, to touch, to place, over and over again.
Though, she never knew what mood you were in until they got you home, or until you couldn't take it anymore and you all but begged to be touched. Sometimes you’d want her to wrap her hands around your throat and make you come on her fingers until you were screaming and Marc was swallowing them down - or muffling your cries with his cock.
Other times you wanted to feel the soft press of her fingertips all over your skin, wanted her to tease and pick you apart slowly, so so slowly, until you were grinding your hips up into hers, or her thigh. Making you come untouched.
Some nights all you wanted was to watch Marc make her come over and over until you begged to have a turn - or until Marc has come inside of her and presses your face into Layla’s cunt to swallow down what wasn't buried deep.
Layla liked it all, she liked you begging for her to touch you, to fuck you, to let you come. She loved how eager you were to please, how cute you looked being dominated by both her and Marc. How submissive you could be, the sad little moans you’d give when you wouldnt get your way, wouldn't be allowed to come.
Marc being the softer one of the two when it came to letting you finish when you’ve been a little too bratty; didn't listen to directions, made a move when you were told to stay, to take, to please. If it were up to her you would beg for hours to come, days if that's what it took for a lesson to be learned.
“Please let me come, please.”
“Oh, baby,” Layla would purr. Smile against your cheek, or wherever her lips were currently torturing you at. “I don’t think you deserve it, not just yet.”
“Layla.” Marc would answer for you, groan for you.
But Marc was a softy when it came to his girls. And she couldn’t deny the love she had for the soft intimate moments the three of you shared when you went slow, took each other to that precipice, to that crest with the intimacy of something more than just fucking, than fuffiling a need or punishment.
“You’re so pretty when you come, look at her Marc.”
“Fuck.”
“Such a good girl.”
And right now the look Marc has in his eyes, the heavy rising of his chest as he stares at the wetness on her fingers, at your arousal - enough to get both of their mouths watering - Layla can tell that tonight is going to be a giving night.
That they were going to be a sweaty heaving mess by the time all was said and done.
Walking over to Marc, her steps slow and methodical, she grabs his jaw with a light grip; something flutters inside of her as she watches him open his mouth without her even having to ask. His lips wrapping around her fingers, the suction of his tongue as he licks your arousal off of her fingers, has her smirking, “I get her first.”
#layla el faouly x reader#marc spector smut#layla el faouly smut#layla el faouly#marc spector#marc spector x reader#layla el faouly x you#marc spector x you#moon knight smut#moon knight x you#moon knight x reader#layla el faouly fic#moon knight fic#marc spector fic#**
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♱ KINKTOBER 2022 ♱
━━━━ Welcome! It's that time of the year again where spooky season is just around the corner and kinktober is upon us. I've come up with another list of prompts + characters that I'm so excited for! I hope you enjoy the fics and let's have a fun month!
minors dni. this content is not for you in the slightest.
i don't keep taglists anymore but i do have a library blog that is updated whenever i post a fic.
reblogs, comments, and feedback is always welcome!
WEEK ONE: 10/1 - 10/8
━━━━"We are the weirdos mister."
day one: voyeurism - bradley bradshaw x f!reader x jake seresin
day two: breeding - 80s din
day three: face sitting - steven grant
day four: cumplay - mickey garcia
day five: phone sex - javier peña
day six: deep throating + bondage - poe dameron
day seven: squirting - eddie munson
day eight: dry humping - obi-wan kenobi
WEEK TWO: 10/9 - 10/16
━━━━"Ghost are real. This much I know."
day nine: sound kink + sight deprivation - din djarin
day ten: outdoor sex + exhibitionism - bradley bradshaw
day eleven: praise kink + edging - joaquín torres
day twelve: threesome + body worship - marc spector x f!reader x layla el-faouly
day thirteen: against a wall + rough sex - cassian andor
day fourteen: hair pulling + choking - steve rogers
day fifteen: breath play + fingering - anakin skywalker
day sixteen: thigh riding - jake lockley
WEEK THREE: 10/17 - 10/23
━━━━"You're killing people." "No I'm killing boys."
day seventeen: creampie - poe dameron
day eighteen: cockwarming + dirty talk - jake seresin
day nineteen: mutual masturbation + cum eating - eddie munson
day twenty: double penetration - din djarin x f!reader x boba fett
day twenty-one: somnophilia (consensual) - dream of the endless
day twenty-two: overstimulation - din djarin
day twenty-three: spit kink - joaquín torres
WEEK FOUR: 10/24 - 10/30
━━━━"I be the witch of the wood."
day twenty-four: handjob + mirror sex - frankie morales
day twenty-five: dom/sub - bucky barnes
day twenty-six: pegging - obi-wan kenobi
day twenty-seven: nipple play + cunnilingus - cassian andor
day twenty-eight: sex pollen - druig
day twenty-nine: guided masturbation + intercrural sex - marc spector
day thirty: monsterfucking + blood play - vampire!eddie (full fic)
#kinktober#kinktober 2022#marvel#top gun maverick#star wars#stranger things#pedro pascal#eddie munson smut#moon knight smut#star wars smut#marvel smut#my writing#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake seresin#marc spector#steven grant
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Jace's Masterlist
The Last of Us
I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song (Joel Miller x gn!reader)
Photographs and Memories (Joel Miller x gn!reader)
Secret Santa (Joel Miller x gn!reader)
Double Jeopardy! (Joel Miller x gn!reader)
Moon Knight
College!AU headcanons (Steven Grant x Layla El-Faouly, Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly)
All I've Ever Known Is How to Hold My Own (But Now I Wanna Hold You, Too) [Steven Grant x Layla El-Faouly, Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly]
I Don't Need a Metaphor for You to Know I'm Miserable (Marc Spector x gn!reader)
They All Say That It Gets Better (But What If I Don't?) [Marc Spector x gn!reader]
Love at First Sight's for Suckers (At Least, It Used to Be) [Jake Lockley x f!reader]
Leap Year (Jake Lockley x gn!reader)
Written in the Stars (Steven Grant x gn!reader)
Rain (Marc Spector x gn!reader)
Triple Frontier
Back to School (Frankie Morales x f!reader)
Back to School headcanons (Frankie Morales x f!reader)
Still Loving You (Santiago Garcia x gn!reader)
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moon knight masterlist
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 – 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄
masterlist | taglist | ao3
.𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓
fics:
bathroom floor - marc spector x gn!reader
tired and wounded - marc spector x gn!reader
good enough - marc spector x gn!reader
relief - marc spector x gn!afab!reader
three is the magic number - marc spector x layla el faouly x f!reader
drenched flowers - marc spector x gn!reader
a thousand times - marc spector x gn!reader
headcanons | drabbles
—✣✾✣—
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 – 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄
.𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓
fics:
nervous - steven grant x gn!reader
rainy shenanigans - steven grant x gn!reader
neck kisses - steven grant x gn!reader
headcanons | drabbles
—✣✾✣—
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘 – 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄
.𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓
fics:
blood and wine - jake lockley x f!reader
to take care of you - jake lockley x gn!reader
come out - jake lockley x gn!reader
headcanons | drabbles
—✣✾✣—
𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀 𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐘 – 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄
three is the magic number - layla el faouly x marc spector x f!reader
#moon knight#moon knight x reader#marc spector#marc spector x reader#steven grant#steven grant x reader#jake lockley#jake lockley x reader#layla el faouly#layla el faouly x reader
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In honor of hitting another milestone, I wanna spend some time with all my besties. Whether you have been here since my Hiddles days or if you just now making yourself comfy in my little space in the tumblrverse, I am grateful for every single one of you and I hope we get to have some fun and share our love for fandoms ❤️
For more information on activities to look forward to, click the Keep Reading feature 🪴
Dates: Monday, May 22 - Sunday, May 28
Rules:
Please do not interact if you are a minor, blank or ageless blog
Any asks from a minor, blank or ageless blog will be denied and blocked
This celebration is open to followers and non-followers
There is no limit to how many asks you send but I ask that you please send one at a time
Please be patient with your response. I cannot guarantee I will respond in a timely manner however I can do my best.
I reserve the right to deny or ignore any asks that I do not feel comfortable with or do not vibe with*. It’s nothing against you, I want to be able to protect my own peace.
Asks:
Personals: ask me anything about me and my life on/off tumblr
Promos: share one of your creations (fanfic, art, moodboard, gif, playlist, original writing) and I will help spread the word about your amazing talents
Games: cym, fmk, wyr, smash or pass (with any hottie not listed)
Creations: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)
Mutuals only: send me your fave hottie (doesn’t need to be on list) and I will create a ship moodboard based on how I imagine your relationship with them
All the Hotties:
My AUs
Adam Warlock x f. reader (Like Real People Do)
Fictional
Marvel
Adam Warlock
Joaquin Torres
Layla El-Faouly
Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley
Gamora
Star Wars
Din Djarin
Poe Dameron
Anakin Skywalker
Other
Joel Miller
Real life
Danny Ramirez
Will Poulter
Harry Styles
*Unapproved Topics:
water sports
scat play
blood play
underage
incest
step-cest
non-con
weapon play
a/b/o
bestiality
kids/pregnancy
abuse of any kind
**Prompts:
Smut
Fluff
Shameless plug tags: @yummymatcha @neganwifey25-blog @wint3r-h3art @crazycookiecrumbles @buckybleu @inklore @fluffyprettykitty @psychedelic-ink @give-me-a-moose @mothdruid @hollandparkersx @frying-panties @buckets-and-trees @blackbat05
#sleepover 🌚🌝#tags I will use for the celebration>>>#1.2k celebration🌱#personals 🪴#promos 🪴#games 🪴#creations 🪴#mutuals only 🪴
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