A Spoonful Of Sugar

a spoonful of sugar

summary: marc's not very good at taking his medicine.

(I was the worst at drinking this stuff as a kid so I need validation)

cw: fluff, sickfic, marc is a little baby

You knew it was coming. Even as he flapped his hand and rolled his eyes and laughed allergies, baby, you knew. When it was eight in the morning and your early bird boyfriend hadn't even stirred, you knew. That rumbling cough wasn't an annual pollen allergy.

There was a pot of tea on the stove before he woke. You'd prepped the supplies - tissues, a damp towel, some anti-inflammatory, and were in the middle of making food when his croaky voice broke the silence. You knelt by his bed and pulled the blankets away from his sweaty face.

"Help," he rasped, "I'm -cough- dying..."

The desperate display of obvious dramatics made you grin. He was always such a tough guy; scoffing at band-aids and ice packs. It was tempting to tease but his puppy eyes were too much.

"Come on, big guy, let's get some food in you." You gently pulled the covers down to help him up, but he harrumphed and yanked them right back.

"Sod off," came Steven's weary voice from under the comforter. "Marc's being a toff and making me deal with the sore throat." A pitiful sniffle and a hacking cough erupted from his broad shoulders. The blankets shuddered as Steven raked in a breath.

"Marc, come on," you cooed, rubbing his back. "Leave poor Steven alone. I've got some stuff for you, you'll feel better."

A pause, then some grumbling as he sat up. "Poor Steven? Wha' bou' me?"

His whining was choked up by the pressure in his throat. You could see the blockage in his sinuses as he struggled to keep his eyes open. A whistling sigh left his lips. He was definitely sick. Deliriously, Marc dragged a hand through his wild, sweaty hair. He reminded you of a scruffy ragdoll cat dragged in from the rain.

With a fussy Marc in tow, you fixed a cup of herbal tea and some food. So far he just seemed congested but he needed some food to handle the medicine. He miserably blew at the steaming mug, swaying on his feet. You held him against you sympathetically. He greedily drank in the attention, sniffing louder to earn a few forehead kisses.

Marc didn't get sick very often. He was pretty good at eating well, getting sleep when he could, and exercising regularly. Usually he could sleep it off and be totally fine. Every once in a while though, he'd get kicked on his ass for a while.

The kitchen island had every box of decongestant and cough syrup you could find splayed out in a heap. You weren't sure which one he preferred, so you'd let him pick. Not one of them seemed to be opened.

He had finished half of the tea, grimacing after every sip. Marc much preferred coffee, said his beseeching glance at the coffeemaker.

"Caffeine won't help," you chided gently, standing in front of the alluring machine. He sent you a sour look and folded his arms, shivering at another wracking cough. You reminded yourself to be gentle - Marc didn't like feeling weak.

Letting him go about grabbing water and wolfing down more toast, you examined the available medicines.

He'd need some ibuprofen, and probably a decongestant. You'd give it to him now so he could take a hot shower while you changed the sheets. Airing out the flat would clear the germy air well enough.

Marc approached you warily, eyeing the pharmaceutical stash you had amassed.

"Whassat?" he asked hoarsely, ducking his chin against your neck. Petting his cheek absently, you continued your perusing.

"We need to get you some meds, honey. Do want the grape stuff or no flavor? Haven't got anything better, looks like."

You felt his lips frown against your skin. "I'll just take a shower, don't neeb all tha' stuff." he coughed again, wincing at the blockage in his nose. His breath was hot. You frowned, pressing your palm against his head.

"You're feverish, Marc, you need something more than a shower. You can take one after." Filling a glass with water, you handed him a tablet and nodded. "Take that."

Muttering, he knocked it back and slugged down the water. Sliding behind you, he made his way towards the bathroom but you tugged his sleeve back.

"Hang on, one more." You slowly measured out a dose of decongestant. The garish red syrup glug-glugged quietly, an acrid smell of medicinal berry coating your nose. Blegh, you winced. It was baffling how nobody had thought to make it a tasteless pill. Drinking ounces of disgusting syrup was your least favorite way to knock out a cold.

Turning, you carefully handed Marc the little cup. "Drink that and another glass of water, then you can shower. I'll address the sheets."

You made sure to adjust the thermostat on your way to the bedroom. Once his fever dropped he'd want some warmth to sleep in. The window let in a cooling breeze, washing away the stuffy scent of sick. London's quiet din rumbled outside, providing a soundtrack for your relaxed cleaning.

Bundling the sheets and towels into your arms, you made your way to the washroom. You paused.

Marc was hunched over the counter, glaring at something.

"Marc?"

A flicker of embarrassment, then he curled his body away and grumbled a response. Frowning, you tossed the sheets in the hamper and crossed to him.

"What've you been doing? I gave that to you a while ago."

He nodded, still scowling at the viscous berry medicine. A pause. you tilted your head.

"...You okay?"

Marc didn't respond. That little serving of medicine continued to endure his baleful wrath, practically trembling on the countertop. The spell was broken by an enormous sneeze. Marc reeled from the sound, shaking the fuzz from his head.

"I think you've intimidated it enough," you joked softly, rubbing his shoulder. "But really, honey, you need to drink that."

A familiar pair of wide brown eyes blinked sorrowfully at you. "But...it tastes foul," Steven whined, sticking his lip out for emphasis. You raised your eyebrow and poked his side.

"Spector, stop shoving off to Steven. You're the one who wanted to sleep with a window open in November, you gotta suffer the consequences."

A moment of twitching and he was back, bleary and disgruntled. Ears pink with Steven's admission, Marc hedged away from you again and tried to escape to the bathroom. His clumsy feet shuffled along the creaky baseboards. You let him have his way for a moment, but soon enough was enough.

"Marc, you've literally drunk the most disgusting alcohol ever without a second thought."

He looked at you reproachfully, trying to work Steven's angle of adorable petulance. His grumpy frown did make your heart fawn, but the wracking cough and guttural sneeze overran the knee-jerk reaction.

Irritated that his tactics weren't working, Marc slumped onto your shoulder. Chuckling, you rubbed his back, rocking him side to side. His hands were insistent, tugging you backwards. You realized, almost too late, that he was trying to angle himself closer to an escape path.

"Spector-"

Before you could grab him, he had disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the tap.

You sighed. At least he was showering.

The laundry was done, and the apartment sufficiently sanitized by the time Marc reappeared, damp hair curling around his ears. He looked a little brighter. His eyes were clear and his cheeks a healthier ruddiness rather than feverish.

And, just like before, the little cup of syrup lay sitting on the counter for him. He was visibly bothered when you hadn't forgotten.

"Meds," you said firmly when he moved in for a kiss. The comment offended him, and he tried to peck you anyway. You put a hand over his mouth and pushed gently, handing him the cup.

"I don't wan' to," he rasped, lip curling. "It tastes like lighter fluid - cough - and I don't feel better anyway."

"How would you know, you haven't taken it?"

Marc huffed, dramatically folding his arms and turning his nose up.

"Marc."

Your tone made him duck his head. It was funny to watch him squirm; his reluctance almost reminded you of Steven. Usually he would bite the bullet and do anything that made him uncomfortable with nothing but a shrug. Hell, you'd seen him clean Steven's sick off the toilet after a night out with less of a reaction.

Sympathizing a little bit, you poured a glass of orange juice and slid it over.

"If you drink the medicine really fast, you can wash it down with juice."

Marc grumbled, still wrinkling his nose.

"Does that work?"

"Hmmm no," he huffed, folding his arms tighter. "I thin' you should gib me a kiss 'cause you're bein' meab," he garbled, voice strangled around the congestion. You bit down a laugh, trying to seem sincere.

"You can't even talk, Marc, I am not gonna kiss you."

The admission made his head snap up, eyes terrified. You worked this new angle, putting your hands up and backing away. "I don't want your germs."

He protested quietly, hands reaching out.

"Hug?"

"Meds."

"But-"

"No buts," you said, tone gentle again, "come on. Just a second. It'll take like two seconds and then you can drink some juice and go lay down. Yes, I'll lay with you," you acquiesced at his narrowed gaze.

He was stubbornly refused. "Marc," you sighed, dragging a hand over your face. "You'd be done with this by now if you just drank it."

"I don' like it," he bit out. Unbelievable. You stared at each other for a moment, disdainfully scowling at the situation.

"You know what, fine," you griped, taking the cup in your hand. "Pick a number between one and five."

He blinked, but relented. "F...four," he wheezed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. You held up four fingers.

"I will give you four kisses if you drink this."

He brightened. "snfff- wait, I meant fibe."

You leaned forward and nudged his nose. He tried to grab you for a kiss but you ducked back, taking the opportunity to grab his jaw gently. Eyes hazy and loving, he smiled at you.

"Open," you said softly, tapping his lips and winking.

Marc obeyed, clearly expecting a kiss. Instead, you gently tipped the medicine to his lips. Marc yelped at the sharp taste. He fussed and balked, struggling not to choke. You shushed him, tipping the cup until it had all dribbled past his lips.

"Drink it quick, honey, there you go, all done-" You shoved him the glass of juice, coaxing him to finish the dose. Marc spluttered and gagged, wincing at the taste. Eyes watering, he glared at you.

"Tha' was rude," he pouted. You cuddled him up and kissed his forehead.

"Yeah, but now you can go snuggle into bed." This outcome placated him greatly, nuzzling into your shoulder as you situated the bed. Marc jabbed your side insistently and you paused to give him a kiss.

Wrinkling your nose, you nodded. "Wow. Yeah, I can taste that. It's pretty shit."

He threw his hands up, rolling his eyes as you giggled. "Sorry for torturing you," you teased, peppering his cheek with light kisses.

"Fuggin' waterboarded me with that," he grouched, supressing a grin at your doting affection.

The blankets, still warm from the dryer, were tucked high around his drowsy face. You lay as close as you could, draping your arm over his side. Marc snuffled and coughed for a few moments but was asleep soon, breath puffing hot against your neck. You monitored him for a while, hands gently stroking his hair before succumbing to your own nap.

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezeswheezes

comment to join tags!

Twin Moons

Can I Have A Moon Knight X Fem Reader Smut

Steven Grant x f!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Summary: You go back to Steven's after a date.

Warnings:, Kissing, pet names, oral sex (both receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, surprise god, not beta read, swearing, overuse of italics, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2788

“So this is the place.” Steven smiles a little nervously, he scratches the back of his head as he gestures to his living room with his other hand. “Sorry it’s a little messy, I didn’t think- presume, I mean. That you’d be coming back, that’s not polite, is it? No. I mean-” He sighs, screwing up his eyes, and you can’t stop the twist of affection in your chest.

“Steven,” You smile and take his hand, bringing it to your lips and lightly kissing his knuckles. “It’s okay.”

His shoulders relax slightly. “Sorry, I’m getting all in my head aren’t I?”

You shake your head. “It’s cute.”

He pulls a face. “Cute isn’t exactly what I’m going for…” He glances at the mirror on the side and gives his reflection a glare.

“What’s Marc saying?”

“Taking the mick.”

You can’t help but giggle at the little scowl on his face. The way his nose scrunches is adorable.

“Tell Marc,” You squeeze Steven’s hand reassuringly, “I’m very much looking forward to my date with him tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” He looks back to you. “He’s just still pissy about the fact that I won paper, rock, scissors.” They’d decided that after a few casual dates with both of them, that it was time for separate (ish) dates. And what separate really meant was they could choose the location and activity on their own without the other's input. And without too many snide comments.

You giggle, “Is that how you decided?”

Steven gives you a bashful smile, something you’re sure he simply must know what effect it has on you. “ We didn’t tell you that, did we?”

You shake your head. “It’s cute.” You repeat.

“I’m starting to think I’m getting stuck in the ‘cute’ area here.”

“Oh really?” You tease.

He nods and steps a little closer to you. “It’s a very serious concern love.”

“What’s so wrong with the ‘cute’ zone, it’s cute?”

He pulls a face, an over the top expression to make you smile. “It’s fine, really, and normally I’d be all for it. It’s just not where I want to be right now.” He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. Lightly, he places his hands on your hips. It’s a feather touch, barely there. His hands are radiating warmth, like all his pent up nervous energy is trying to escape through his skin.

“And where do you want to be?” You ask sweetly as you rest your hands on his chest. His heartbeat speeds under your fingers, thumping so fast it’s almost a blur.

“Between your legs.” He says softly, and quickly. Immediately he screws his face up and smacks his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Oh my god, I’msososorry, that was just fucking awful.”

You grin, unable to suppress your chuckle. “Hey,” you take hold of his wrist and pull his hand lightly away from his face. “I liked it.”

“No, you didn’t love, don’t tell tales.” He pretends to chastise but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“I did.”

He shakes his head, “No, I refuse to believe it. It was awful and you’re too wonderful to put up with something like tha-”

You quickly lean forward and kiss him, it’s light and soft and you’re careful not to bump your teeth against his as he is still speaking. But quickly Steven sighs, wrapping his arms around you and cradling the back of your neck. He presses closer when you go to move away, his plush lips moving against yours hypnotisingly.

You shiver when he darts out his tongue, just teasing the edge of your bottom lip and then retreating when you part your lips.

You moan softly, screwing up the front of his shirt in your hand as you move your body flush against his, trying to capture his tongue when he teases again.

He lightly grinds the outline of his semi-hard cock against you, and this time when he retreats again you follow, licking into his mouth eagerly.

Steven groans softly, welcoming you immediately as you deepen the kiss and racing to react to your every move. His sounds vibrate through his chest, buzzing along your fingers in the most pleasant way.

When he pulls back his lips are shiny and kiss swollen, there is a soft hint of pink to his cheeks, just highlighting the tan of his skin.

Steven takes hold of your hand lightly, guiding you slowly to the bed and watching you with his large eyes intently. Seemingly waiting for you to object.

His breathing hitches as you both come to a stop by the edge of the mattress.

He swallows, opening his mouth to speak as he rubs his fingers together a little hesitantly. But you kiss him again, swallowing his anxiety as you gently coax him down to sit. You trail your lips over his jaw, his neck, sucking just under his ear and delighting in the shiver and soft sigh he gifts you with.

“That’s really nice.” He mutters, his voice thick. Lightly, he puts his hands on your back as he presses closer, angling himself more and more into your embrace.

He jumps deliciously when you run your nails up his inner thighs, just missing the solid outline of his cock straining the material.

Quickly, you untuck and then unbutton his shirt, starting from the bottom and distracting him with your teeth on his skin.

He groans, his eyelashes fluttering as you suck a love bite into the hollow of his throat. The sound sends a spiral of heat to your belly.

“Oh, love,” he bites his lip as you push his shirt off his shoulders and nip lightly at his clavicle. The material stays bunched up around his wrists and elbows as you sink down to your knees, kissing a messy trail down his chest to just above his belly button.

“You, erm, you don’t have to, I mean, only if you want- I mean,” he screws up his face. “I’m assuming here, aren’t I? Yes. What I mean is, it’s not… I don’t expect you to-”

You bite lightly at his belly, hardly more than a grazing of your teeth, but he yelps then giggles in surprise, looking down at you with large eyes.

“I want you.” You smile. “You’re gonna be good and let me, aren’t you?” You tease, expecting a classic sassy Steven comeback.

Instead, he audibly gulps, his throat bobbing. “I…” he breathes, his voice low. “Yes.”

You bite back a smile as you undo his belt and hurriedly unzip his jeans.

Steven’s thighs shake as he holds himself back, excitement races along his veins at lightning speed. He holds onto the side of the mattress with both hands, trying to focus on keeping himself as still as possible.

You waste little time as you hook your fingers under his waistband and urge him up a fraction. He raises his hips obediently as you pull his jeans and boxers down to his calves.

The sight of his cock bouncing free makes your mouth practically water. He’s slightly curved, the tip just brushing against his navel and leaving a snail trail of shinny precome on his soft skin.

You can’t help yourself as you lightly run your forefinger down his length, reveling in how it jumps under your touch.

Steven sighs desperately, his heart beating so hard in his chest he’s sure he’s going to pass out any second.

Gently, you cup his balls, just kneading them and feeling the weight of them in your hand for a second. Steven graces you with another breathy moan for your trouble. His pubic hair is neat and trimmed, a little softer than you expected and you can’t help but wonder if he uses conditioner regularly down there, or if this was in hopeful preparation for seeing you.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock.” You whisper and Steven gasps.

He thrusts weakly towards you, unable to hold himself completely back. “Thank, thank you.” He bites his bottom lip the second the words are out of his mouth, looking bashful.

You smile reassuringly and give his balls a light squeeze before you take the base of his length in hand and flick your tongue across the tip.

He swears, loudly. His back arching as you open your mouth and sink him a few inches past your lips.

“Shit, shit.” He groans, his thighs practically vibrating under the force of holding himself still. “That’s really- feels so- thank you, oh god, thank you!” He sighs and pants, his head thrown back as he weakly rocks into your mouth, moaning louder and louder as you swallow him deeper and deeper.

It’s so warm and wet, he’s sure he’s died and gone to heaven as pleasure rushes along his nerves and settles at the base of his spine. You squeeze his hip with one hand, encouraging him to move as you bob your head.

“Love, fuck, love, please.” He gasps, his skin burning. “Please, please. Can we, can you? Fuuuck.” He bucks lightly, nudging at the back of your throat. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

You pull off him slowly with a pop, lightly tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue so he shivers again. “So?” You smile at him.

He pants hard, sweat beading at his temples. “I… can… I think I’d like to fuck you before I finish.”

“You think?”

He pulls a face at your tease and you giggle. “I know.”

“Oh, okay.” You stand up, “because you know then.”

He grins, giving you a familiar sassy look as he takes hold of your hips and starts to pull up your dress. He watches you carefully, checking for any sign that you want him to stop. Instead, you stroke your hand through his hair.

He shivers, preening into your touch.

He groans loudly when he sees your underwear, the outline of your pussy and the damp patch that has soaked through. Lightly, he strokes it, swallowing, still holding your dress up with one hand.

You’re not quite sure what you expect, but it’s not how desperately he pulls your underwear to the side, too eager to waste time by pulling them down.

He swears lightly, his eyes rolling back at the sight before quickly leaning forward and latching onto your clit greedily.

You gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair and he groans loudly as he sucks rhymically, easing your bundle of nerves out past his lips before coaxing it back in.

You can’t help but pull his hair, mirroring the intoxicating pattern of his mouth and eagering a happy whine from him in the process.

“Steven,” you swallow harder, practically gasping for air as he pleases you, his lips so soft and slow. The movement is hypnotic, lulling you into a deep build as the threat of impending pleasure builds at your core.

He moans against you, sucking and sucking until you’re sure he’s going to pull your soul out of your body.

Your body tenses, shakes, so close to pulling you over that sweet edge.

With a herculean strength you lightly push him back, your palm against his forehead.

He gulps, his eyes lidded and lust blown as he gazes up at you, his cheeks flushed. His voice is a little unsure when he speaks. “Was that…?”

“I want to come on your cock.” You pause as he groans, and then add. “Please.”

Steven nods, not trusting his own voice in that moment. You both help each other completely out of your clothing quickly. But he puts his hands on yours when you go to take off your high heels. Normally you would have taken them off at the front door, but in the rush you hadn’t had a chance.

“Can you… leave them on, love?” He gives you a cheeky smile.

“You want me to?” You tease lightly, and he nods eagerly. “Didn’t take you as that kind of guy?”

He giggles and shifts back a little into the centre of the bed. “I don’t know, you just look so hot with them on. Is that okay?”

You nod. “More than okay.” You kneel on the bed, your legs either side of his as you inch forward. He leans back a little, propping himself up on his elbows as you cage him in. He watches you eagerly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Warmth radiates off of his body, permeating the air around him.

He moans sweetly when you take hold of his cock again, wriggling his hips to move into a slightly better position for you.

You pump him twice before you lean down and spit onto his dick. Steven groans, his eyes rolling back and cock jumping as you smear your saliva along his skin.

Painfully slowly you line him up with your soaking entrance, rocking back and forth against his tip but not easing down.

“Can you, fuck,” he swears softly, a little embarrassed before he clears his throat. “Can you tell me how you like it?” He asks so sweetly, his eyes closed and lips parted.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “While you, shit-” He lets out a loud moan as you start to sink down, a broken string of ‘thank yous’ falling out of his mouth with every breath. “Please, while we fuck, tell me how, tell me what you want?”

“What if I just want you to be still and take it?” You tease, barely managing to keep your voice steady and own sounds of pleasure under control. “Be my own personal fuck toy?”

He swears, gasping for air. “Please.”

“You’d like that?” You groan.

He’s so thick, you’re barely halfway down and you’re sure you can feel him in your lungs. You ease back up a fraction before you sink down further, getting used to his stretch and size.

“Yes.” He whines. “Want you just to use me to come.” He breathes hard. “Any time you want, just, just tell me and you can ride my cock or my mouth and just come all over me.” He shivers, his hips bucking up a little at the thought.

He slides his hands up and down your thighs, moving to sit up more so he can palm your calves and then grab at the sturdy heels of your shoes. “Fuck.”

The angle change makes him just slide all the way in, bullying his fat cock into your aching heat.

You gasp his name, groaning as his pubic bone rubs wonderfully against your clit.

A rumble of approval sounds from his chest. “God, yeah. Just…” He thrusts slowly, rolling his hips against yours so he barely leaves your heat and instead grinds deeply.

His grip tightens on your shoes as he pulls you back and forth, fucking you onto his cock.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, your fingers digging in as pleasure bubbles in your lower stomach.

“Good?” He whines.

You nod rapidly, not fully trusting your own voice.

“Can, can you come like this?”

You nod again and he whimpers. The tip of his cock brushes deliciously deep, rubbing deliciously and harmonising with the relentless grind against your clit.

“Love, fuck, I want you to come so badly, I want to feel you squeeze me and just make a mess of me.” He whines, moving faster to match the pace of your hips. “I’m, I’m gonna come, I can’t help it. You feel so good, so good, so good for me, fuck, please, please, can you? Please? Can I? Can?”

You shiver as your orgasm hits you suddenly, bucking weakly as you soak his cock. Your body burns and sings as the pleasure is squeezed from you, pulled perfectly as you shake and moan in Steven’s ear.

He follows you half a second later, your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer as he fills you as deeply as he can.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and snuggling into your neck as you relax against him. “Love, that was-”

“I am in need of your assistance.” Thoth’s booming voice from behind you makes you practically jump out of your skin. The god was not so hot on personal boundaries and had apparently chosen now to appear out of the ether. Well, at the very least it was now, and not a minute ago.

For a second you think Steven’s accompanying flinch is simply because he felt you do it, surprised by your own surprise.

“What the fuck?” His grip on you tightens and you frown in confusion, from your position you miss his shocked expression, how he stares at the god.

There’s no way he could see Thoth, was there?

Thank you so much for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

@angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @hammerhead96 @emma23 @mylittledelulucorner

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop