Pairing: Steven Grant + Marc Spector x Female!Reader
Warning: pure smut 🔥🥵
Marc's been waiting to touch you for months, but hasn't been able to take control whenever the moment arrives. He finally convinces Steven to just let things happen naturally, and give control when the moment is right.
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"I love it when she holds her pencil like that," Marc's voice suddenly came into Steven's thoughts, the comment caused him to look around as if he could actually see Marc, and then over to you.
You were seated at your desk, on the opposite side of the flat from where Steven's was. You'd just gotten into some comfortable clothes which consisted of a baggy t-shirt and nothing but panties for bottoms, it was usually what you wore to bed. So, since it was late when you sat down to work, you'd planned on eventually just moving from your desk to bed whenever Steven was going to call it for the night too. At the moment you were holding your pencil between your lips softly, not wanting to cause any bite marks on the shaft of it, you were also busy using both hands to search for something.
"Yeah, it's pretty cute, innit?" Steven agreed, resting his chin in his hand while he lovingly looked at you.
"Oh, just wait for it, she'll stretch right after she finds what she needs, and then-" Marc began but paused when you did exactly as he predicted, lifting your hands over your head causing the t-shirt to pulled up higher, revealing the waistband of your black panties, "boom, beautiful."
"Mate," Steven said under his breath, quickly looking between you and the reflective glass paperweight in front of him where he'd found Marc's reflection was, "you have got to calm down."
"No," Marc retorted, "she was mine first. After all, I've been on the inside for months, seeing everything, but feeling none of it. So that means when you two-"
"Okay, that's- that's actually fair," Steven said, interrupting Marc's comment, knowing where it was going, and knowing he'd blush at the mention of it, "I can understand your-" he glanced over to you, now finding you reaching to the far end of your desk for another book, this time you uncrossed a leg, setting it down against the floor for support, conveniently displaying it fully, along with a few more inches of skin, "frustration," Steven swallowed harshly, trying to look away again.
