#marlon fluff

warnings: secret relationship soft-launch energy, accidental pet name on live stream, secondhand embarrassment, nervous laughing and visible flustering, chat going feral with spamming and clipping, irl stream setting!

—

the internet has already been suspicious for weeks.

every stream was just:

“just announce it.”

“we’re not stupid.”

“hard launch when?”

so tonight is supposed to be safe. harmless. you, marlon, and rocket getting ice cream on stream. normal friend content. nothing confirmable.

rocket walks backward with the camera. “chat behave. this is a wholesome stream.”

“they don’t know how,” you say.

marlon just smiles, hands in his hoodie pocket, trying to act natural. there’s a careful distance between you both. not too close. not too far. deliberate.

inside the ice cream shop, you step up to the counter. “okay wait… why does birthday cake look kinda good?”

“birthday cake? that’s not a bad shout,” marlon says, grinning at you instead of the camera for half a second too long.

the worker asks what you want.

you hesitate. “hmmm, i don’t know.”

you glance at him without thinking.

and he suddenly forgets he’s live or just is stupid.

“get whatever you want, baby.”

it slips out soft. automatic. natural.

the kind of tone he uses when it’s just you two.

he freezes. just for half a second.

like his brain finally catches up with his mouth.

rocket lets out a quiet, shocked laugh behind the camera.

chat absolutely detonates.

BABY????

HELLO???

NO WAY

CLIP IT

marlon blinks once.

then he forces a smile.

“anyway,” he says quickly, clapping his hands together once like he’s resetting the universe. “chat what flavor are we thinking?”

he’s convincing himself they didn’t hear it.

maybe the music in the shop covered it.

maybe the mic cut.

maybe—

you don’t react.

not even slightly.

you just nod like nothing happened. “okay. cookies and cream.”

you turn immediately to the toppings. “oh wait, do you have brownie pieces?”

rocket is still quietly laughing to himself, trying to angle the camera toward the menu instead of marlon’s face.

marlon is smiling too much.

too stiff.

he pays, grabs his ice cream, and walks outside like everything is fine.

it is not fine.

you sit at one of the metal tables. space between you. intentional.

“rate it,” you say casually, taking a bite.

“uh, yeah. it’s good. like an eight.”

normal voice. normal tone.

he pulls out his phone.

big mistake.

the second he opens chat, his expression changes.

it’s just:

BABY???

WE HEARD THAT

BRO HARD LAUNCHED

?????

and then the jokes start.

“ur the tuffest marlon.”

“rocket officiating the wedding.”

“mf acting like we didn’t hear him say baby.”

he lets out a nervous laugh.

low at first.

just under his breath.

“they’re so stupid,” he mutters.

the chats just keep coming in.

it gets worse.

“marlon actually a dumbass sob”

“that was NOT friendly.”

“ain’t no way.”

his laugh gets louder.

not confident — just overwhelmed.

the kind of laugh you do when you don’t know what else to do.

rocket is fully grinning behind the camera now. “chat is wild tonight.”

“they’re actually dumb,” marlon says, still laughing. “y’all just hear things.”

everyone heard it.

rocket heard it.

you definitely heard it.

chat absolutely heard it.

and probably clipped it already.

but you keep your eyes on your ice cream like you’re in your own world.

“this is actually good,” you say casually. “you should’ve gotten this flavor.”

you don’t look at him, you don’t acknowledge the word, you don’t even tease.

because the second you react, it confirms it.

and you know that.

so you just keep talking.

about flavors. about how cold it is. about where to go next.

marlon slowly locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket, still smiling in disbelief.

“anyway,” he says, trying to reset again. “after this we might go to the arcade or something.”

“arcade sounds fun,” you reply easily.

chat is still spamming.

still joking.

still very aware there’s something going on between you and marlon.

but since neither of you address it, there’s nothing concrete to clip besides a single word and a nervous laugh.

and marlon keeps telling himself maybe they’ll forget about it.

chat wont.

—

warnings: established relationship, sleepy clinginess, soft physical affection (kisses, cuddling), mild humor, late-night domestic fluff, protective/possessive undertones but in a gentle way

—

it’s almost two in the morning when you realize you’re thirsty.

the room is dark except for the faint glow of the streetlight bleeding through the curtains. marlon’s room always feels warmer at night — heavier somehow — especially when he’s wrapped around you like this.

one arm is thrown over your waist. one leg hooked lazily over yours. his face tucked into the back of your neck, breath slow and even.

you try to carefully lift his arm.

it doesn’t budge.

you wiggle a little.

nothing.

you turn your head slightly. “marlon,” you whisper.

no response.

you attempt to scoot forward anyway.

that’s when his arm tightens.

not aggressively. just instinctively.

“mm,” he hums, voice thick with sleep. “where’re you going?”

you smile softly. “kitchen. i’m thirsty.”

he exhales against your shoulder.

“…no.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “no?”

he pulls you closer like you just suggested something outrageous.

“stay,” he mumbles.

“i just need water.”

“i’ll get it tomorrow.”

“i need it now.”

he makes a small displeased sound and shifts, dragging you fully onto your back so he can rest half on top of you instead. his head drops onto your chest, hair tickling your chin.

“marlon,” you whisper-laugh, “you’re heavy.”

“good.”

his arms slide tighter around you, like he’s physically preventing you from escaping.

you try again to move.

he groans softly and buries his face into your shirt.

“stop moving,” he mutters.

“i can’t breathe.”

“dramatic.”

you can hear the smile in his sleepy voice.

he’s not even awake.

you run your fingers through his hair. “you won’t even remember this in the morning.”

“will too,” he murmurs.

his grip loosens just slightly, and you think this might be your chance.

you gently try to slide out from under him.

immediately, his hand grabs your waist again.

“no,” he says, firmer this time — still half-asleep, but stubborn.

“why are you like this at night?” you whisper.

he shifts again, pressing a lazy kiss to the center of your chest without even opening his eyes.

“because you’re warm.”

your heart melts a little.

“i’m always warm.”

“yeah,” he says softly. “exactly.”

you stop trying to move.

his breathing evens out again, slow and steady, but his fingers keep tracing absent little patterns along your side. like he needs constant confirmation you’re still there.

you watch him for a moment — lashes resting against his cheeks, mouth slightly parted, completely relaxed.

this is the only time he’s like this.

during the day he acts composed. independent. not clingy at all.

but at night?

he clings like you might disappear.

you press a gentle kiss into his hair.

after a few seconds, he stirs again.

“you still here?” he mumbles.

“yeah.”

his hand squeezes your waist.

“good.”

you smile into the darkness.

“i’m still thirsty,” you whisper.

he makes another quiet noise, like he’s deeply offended by the concept.

“…fine.”

he lifts his head slightly, eyes barely cracked open. squints at you.

“don’t move.”

“i thought you said i could go.”

“i changed my mind,” he says sleepily. “but don’t move.”

he rolls off you with visible effort, sitting up slowly like gravity is personally attacking him. his hair is a mess. his eyes barely open.

you can’t help but laugh softly.

“you don’t have to—”

“shh,” he mumbles, already standing.

he disappears toward the kitchen, footsteps dragging.

a minute later, he comes back with a glass of water, carefully handing it to you before collapsing back into bed immediately.

you take a sip.

before you can even set the glass down, he’s pulling you back into him.

arm around your waist. leg hooked over yours. face tucked back into your neck.

like he never left.

“better?” he murmurs.

“yeah.”

“good.”

you feel him press one lazy, sleepy kiss to your shoulder.

“don’t leave again,” he whispers.

you smile, settling into his chest.

“i won’t.”

and within seconds, he’s asleep again — still holding you like you might try to escape.

which, at this point, you absolutely won’t.want a version where he wakes up embarrassed about how clingy he was?

—

reader = pink

marlon = green

MARLON HEADCANONS

warnings: nsfw (explicit sexual content), praise kink, oral sex, morning sex, overstimulation, rough sex, aftercare, fluff, clinginess, domestic vibes, protective boyfriend tendencies, gentleman behavior, financial dominance? (won’t let you pay)

marlon x reader smutty headcanons

1. marlon loves taking his time — slow, deep strokes, kissing every inch of you, making sure you feel how badly he’s wanted you.

2. he’s big on eye contact during sex. he’ll hold your face in his hands, murmuring “look at me” while he pushes you over the edge.

3. oral is one of his favorite things — he’ll go down on you until your thighs are shaking, and won’t stop until you’re whining from overstimulation.

4. marlon’s morning voice is lethal — gravelly, low, and needy. he’ll wake you up by kissing your neck and sliding in slowly, whispering how good you feel.

5. he’s playful in bed too — pinning your wrists above your head with a grin, kissing you until you’re breathless, and teasing, “what would you do without me?”

6. after a workout, he’s insatiable. sweaty, muscles tense, he’ll throw you on the bed and fuck you raw, groaning about how much he missed you.

7. he’s an aftercare pro — carrying you to the shower, rubbing your back under the hot water, and then bundling you in fresh sheets with his arms locked around you.

⸻

marlon x reader fluffy headcanons

1. marlon’s the type to pull you into his lap when you’re cooking or doing chores, refusing to let go until you kiss him.

2. he always sleeps with an arm around your waist, even if you roll over — he’ll scoot closer in his sleep until he’s holding you again.

3. he gives the warmest hugs — lifting you off the ground, squeezing you tight, kissing the top of your head with a grin.

4. marlon has a habit of blurting out compliments mid-conversation: “you’re so cute” or “you’re literally gorgeous,” like he can’t help himself.

5. lazy afternoons with him usually mean lying on his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles while he plays with your hair and hums softly.

6. he’s a true gentleman — opening doors for you, pulling out chairs, carrying heavy bags without you asking. he doesn’t make a show of it, it’s just second nature.

7. he will never let you pay for anything. dinners, movies, trips, coffee — he’s always sliding his card in before you even reach for your wallet. if you protest, he just smirks and says, “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”

(NOT PROOFREAD!)

this is me kinda telling u guys i also wrote for marlon lol, and his cameraman rocket.

marlon = green

reader = pink

silky = purple

lacy = blue

adapt = red

braeden = orange

marlon x reader - i’ll behave / fluff

warnings: slight jealousy, teasing, possessive undertones, mild language

—

marlon was getting ready for coachella, standing in front of the mirror fixing his chains and adjusting his shirt like he had been doing for the past few minutes.

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching him.

he kept looking at himself, turning slightly, making small adjustments like he wanted everything to sit right.

not really saying anything at first.

“what?” he asked after a second, glancing at you through the mirror.

you shrugged a little. “nothing.”

he looked at you again, this time a little longer, like he knew you were about to say something.

you waited a second.

“don’t be staring at other girls.”

he paused for a second, then let out a small laugh, turning his head slightly.

“what?” he said, like he didn’t hear you right.

“i’m serious,” you said, not really changing your tone.

he turned around this time, facing you properly, a small smile still on his face.

“you think i’m gonna go out there just staring at people?”

you just looked at him.

he walked over, stopping right in front of you, close enough to nudge your knee lightly with his.

“you don’t trust me?” he asked.

you rolled your eyes a little. “that’s not what i said.”

he smiled at that, looking down for a second before looking back at you.

“i’ll behave,” he said, quieter this time.

you nodded slightly. “mhm.”

he stayed there for a second, then reached down, lightly tapping your chin before stepping back.

“i’m serious though,” you added.

“i know,” he said, grabbing his stuff. “i heard you.”

he looked at you one more time before heading out, a small smile still on his face.

—

later that night, coachella was packed.

music loud, people everywhere, lights flashing across the crowd.

marlon was walking with silky, lacy, adapt, and braeden, all of them moving through the crowd, talking over each other.

they had been joking about something random when marlon spoke.

“she told me not to look at other girls before i left.”

it wasn’t loud, just said like it came to him.

they all heard it.

silky looked at him first, then laughed. “you serious?”

adapt turned his head. “and you listened?”

marlon shrugged a little. “i mean… yeah.”

lacy shook his head, looking away with a small smile.

braeden let out a quiet laugh.

“you at coachella thinking about that?” silky said.

marlon rolled his eyes slightly. “it’s not even like that.”

“it is like that,” adapt said. “you’re down bad.”

“i’m not,” marlon said, but he didn’t sound that serious.

lacy looked at him again. “you remembered that, then told us.”

braeden added, “that’s all we needed.”

marlon shook his head a little, looking off into the crowd. “y’all doing too much.”

silky stepped a little in front of him, looking around before looking back.

“so you not looking at nobody?”

marlon paused for a second.

“i didn’t say that.”

they all started talking at once, laughing, cutting him off before he could finish.

marlon laughed too, shaking his head, not even trying to explain himself anymore.

adapt looked at him again. “yeah you’re gone.”

lacy nodded. “it’s bad.”

marlon didn’t say anything to that, just pulled his phone out for a second, glancing down at it.

your message was still there.

he opened it again, reading it for a second.

you asking if he was behaving.

he stood there for a second, then typed back a short answer.

yeah.

silky leaned over slightly. “who you texting?”

marlon turned his phone away a little. “no one.”

they all looked at him again.

he shook his head, smiling to himself before locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket.

he looked back up, listening to them still talking, but his attention wasn’t fully there anymore.

every now and then, he’d pull his phone out again, just checking it quickly before putting it away like nothing.

—

(NOT PROOFREAD)

quick little blurb, i thought about this while daydreaming about jason and then someone requested this.

marlon = red

reader = pink

jason = orange

ron = blue

marlon x reader - streamer party

warnings: alcohol, party setting, loud/crowded environment, light teasing from friends, mild language, casual physical touch (hand holding, leaning, etc.), soft fluff / no angst

—

the party is already loud when you and marlon walk in, music running through the whole house, people packed into every room, lights low enough that everything kind of blends together. you step in next to him this time, not behind, your shoulder brushing his as you both pause for a second near the entrance just to look around.

“it’s packed,” you say.

“yeah,” he nods, scanning the room. “we’re not staying long.”

you smile a little. “you say that every time.”

“and i mean it every time,” he says, starting to move forward.

you follow easily, not really needing to hold onto him, just staying close while he says quick hellos to people he recognizes. you catch bits and pieces as you walk — someone calling out to silky across the room, rage laughing somewhere near the stairs, cinna walking past you with a quick smile and wave.

you end up in the kitchen after a minute, marlon grabbing two drinks and handing you one without asking.

“thank you,” you say.

“yeah,” he nods, leaning back against the counter. “now this is a good drink.”

“you think i pick bad drinks?”

“i think you overthink it,” he says.

you look at him. “i don’t.”

“you do,” he says, taking a sip.

you shake your head a little, smiling, and glance around the room again. adapt is across the kitchen talking to someone, arky leaning against the fridge with some oscs members, and you catch a glimpse of tara moving through the crowd again.

“you good?” marlon asks, glancing at you.

“yeah,” you nod.

he watches you for a second, then nods back, shifting slightly when someone squeezes past so you don’t get bumped into. his hand brushes your side for a second, just guiding you a little closer without really thinking about it.

before you can say anything else—

“there he is,”

marlon exhales quietly before turning. “what do you want?”

you already know who it is before you even look.

Jason and Ron are standing there, both looking between you and marlon like they just caught something.

“nothing,” jason says, dragging it out slightly. “just checking in.”

“on what?” marlon asks.

ron gestures between you two. “this of course.” he says with fake enthusiasm in his voice

you glance at marlon for a second, then back at them, a small smile on your face.

“it’s the same as always,” marlon says.

“no it’s not,” jason says immediately. “you’re acting different.”

“im acting different?” he says with a breathy laugh

“yes, you are,” ron says. “you’re being normal.”

“i am normal dumbass,” marlon says.

you look at him. “no you’re not.”

ron laughs. “see?”

marlon just shakes his head, trying not to smile.

jason looks at you. “you been with him all night?”

“we just got here,” you say.

“makes sense,” he nods. “he doesn’t last long at these.”

“i can hear you,” marlon says.

“it’s not a diss bro chill,” ron replies.

you laugh quietly while marlon just looks between them like he’s already done with the conversation.

“go somewhere else,” he says.

“we just got here,” jason repeats.

“then leave again.”

ron shakes his head, still smiling. “alright, we’ll go. but we’ll see you later.”

“no you won’t,” marlon says.

they walk off anyway, both of them still looking back like they’re gonna come right back.

you lean slightly into marlon’s side once they’re gone, smiling. “they’re funny.”

“they’re also annoying,” he says.

“a little.”

“a lot,” he corrects.

you take a sip of your drink while the room keeps moving around you, people talking, laughing, music carrying through everything. you spot clix near the doorway with thea, max arguing about something with someone near the couch, and yugi and bri walking past with a drinks in hand.

“you wanna stay in here or go outside?” marlon asks.

“outside,” you say immediately.

“yeah i figured,” he nods.

you both step out to the backyard, the air cooler, quieter, music muffled through the walls instead of blasting in your ears. you lean against the railing, letting out a small breath.

“better?” he asks.

“way better,” you say.

“yeah,” he nods. “you looked like you were about to disappear.”

“i guess i was?”

“you were,” he says laughing a little.

you glance at him. “you’re so annoying.”

“and you still came with me,” he shrugs.

you smile a little, looking out for a second before glancing back at him.

“you having fun though?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say. “i like being here with you.”

he looks at you for a second, then away, a small smile showing up.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he nods once.

“we can leave if you want,” he says after a second.

you look at him. “you just don’t wanna be here.”

“i’m here,” he says.

“barely.”

he pauses for a second, then shrugs. “okay yeah i don’t wanna be here.”

you laugh quietly. “we can go.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“say less,” he says, pushing off the railing.

you walk back inside and this time he just reaches for your hand without thinking, pulling you through the crowd. as you pass through the living room, you catch jay cinco talking to someone near the couch, braeden sitting on the armrest scrolling on his phone, and lacy laughing with a group near the stairs.

right before you reach the door—

“there they go,”

you both turn slightly as jason and ron reappear like they’ve been waiting.

“you guys are leaving already?” jason asks.

“yeah,” marlon says.

ron looks at your hands, then back at him. “yeah okay.”

“what?” marlon asks.

“nothing,” ron says, smiling.

“you don’t usually leave this fast,” jason adds.

“i do,” marlon says.

“not like this,” ron says.

you smile a little, not saying anything while marlon just shakes his head.

“we’ll talk later,” jason says.

“don’t text me,” marlon replies.

“i’m texting you,” ron says immediately.

marlon just pulls you outside, the door closing behind you and cutting the noise off instantly.

“finally,” he mutters.

you laugh softly as you walk to his car. “they’re gonna text you.”

“i know,” he says.

“what are they gonna say?”

“something dumb,” he replies.

you smile, getting into the car while he walks around to the driver’s side.

the drive is quiet, music low, the city lights passing by outside. after a minute, his hand finds yours again, resting there like it always does.

“you still with me?” he asks.

“yeah why,” you say.

“you went quiet.”

“i’m just relaxed.”

“oh,” he nods. “so i’m calming now?”

“sometimes i guess.”

“that’s crazy,” he says.

you smile softly, looking out the window while his thumb brushes lightly over your hand.

when you get to his place, everything feels calm again. no music, no people, just quiet. you slip your shoes off while he grabs a hoodie and hands it to you.

“here.”

“thank you.”

you put it on, the sleeves covering your hands, and follow him to the couch while he grabs drinks.

he sits next to you, close enough that your knees touch, and you shift into him without thinking, resting your head against his shoulder.

he pauses for a second, then relaxes, his arm settling around you easily.

“better?” he asks quietly.

“way better,” you say.

he nods, his hand moving lightly against your arm through the sleeve of the hoodie, slow and absentminded.

“told you we shouldn’t have stayed long,” he murmurs.

you smile against his shoulder. “you were right.”

“i know,” he says softly.

—

(NOT PROOFREAD)

warnings: mild public anxiety, unwanted attention, parasocial behavior, protective partner, brief discomfort in public, soft hurt/comfort, established relationship fluff

—

you don’t mind going out with marlon.

not really.

you just… know what can happen.

the restaurant isn’t even that crazy — just somewhere casual downtown, dim lights, music low enough that you can actually talk. you’re halfway through laughing at something he said when you notice it.

the double takes.

the whispers.

one guy nudging his friend.

marlon notices it a second after you do.

he sighs softly under his breath. “here we go.”

you give him a small smile. “it’s fine.”

it usually is. a quick photo, a handshake, maybe a “love the streams bro,” and that’s it.

but tonight there’s more than one.

a group of three guys approach first, polite enough, asking for a picture. marlon stands up automatically, easy smile in place. you shift slightly in your seat, turning your body away from the angle of their phone.

you’re used to this part.

what you’re not used to is one of them glancing at you.

“yo wait— who’s that?”

your stomach tightens.

you instinctively look down, lifting your hand casually to your cheek like you’re fixing your hair. you angle your face away from the camera as subtly as you can.

marlon sees it.

he sees everything.

his smile doesn’t drop, but it changes — tighter around the edges.

“just a friend,” he says smoothly.

the guy lingers a second too long, like he wants to ask more. but marlon’s already stepping slightly to the side, blocking the line of sight to you without making it obvious.

picture taken. quick thanks. they walk away.

you let out a breath.

“you good?” he asks quietly as he sits back down.

“yeah,” you nod. “i just don’t wanna end up on someone’s twitter thread.”

his jaw tightens slightly.

before he can answer, two girls approach next. same thing. asking for a photo. one of them already holding her phone up, camera pointed.

you turn your body even more this time, practically hiding behind your water glass. you feel stupid doing it, but the thought of your face being zoomed in, analyzed, posted somewhere makes your chest feel tight.

marlon stands again — but this time, his hand briefly squeezes your shoulder before he steps away from the table entirely.

he moves a few feet away to take the photo.

creating distance.

so you’re not in frame.

the second it’s over, he comes back, expression controlled but eyes scanning you carefully.

“we’re leaving,” he says quietly.

you blink. “we just got our food.”

“i don’t care.”

“marlon—”

“i don’t care,” he repeats, softer but firm. “you’re uncomfortable.”

you try to brush it off. “i’m fine. it’s not that big of a deal.”

he leans closer across the table, voice low.

“you shouldn’t have to hide your face on a date.”

that hits harder than you expect.

another table nearby is very obviously whispering now, phones subtly angled in your direction.

marlon notices that too.

he exhales through his nose, then reaches for his wallet.

“i’m paying then we’ll leave,” he says.

“we can just stay—”

“no.”

not angry.

protective.

he signals the server, asks for everything boxed up instead. while you wait, he shifts his chair closer to yours, shoulder brushing against you like he’s physically shielding you from the room.

one more person approaches — a guy holding his phone out already recording.

“yo marlon, quick pic?”

marlon doesn’t even stand this time.

“not tonight,” he says calmly.

the guy looks surprised. “oh— my bad.”

marlon nods once. “appreciate it.”

it’s not rude. just final.

the boxes come. he pays quickly, barely glancing at the receipt. the second you’re both standing, his hand finds yours.

not loosely.

firm.

guiding you toward the exit.

outside, the night air hits your face and you finally relax a little.

“i’m sorry,” you say automatically.

he stops walking.

“why are you apologizing?”

“because we had to leave.”

he looks at you like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“i don’t care about the restaurant,” he says. “i care about you not feeling like you have to hide.”

you swallow.

“i just don’t want your fans to—”

“they’re my fans,” he cuts in. “not yours.”

his thumb rubs over your knuckles.

“they don’t get access to you,” he says quietly. “that’s not part of the deal.”

you look down at your joined hands.

“i can handle it,” you say softly.

“i know you can,” he replies. “but you shouldn’t have to.”

there’s something steady in his voice. not dramatic. not possessive in a showy way. just protective.

he leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“next time,” he says, “we go somewhere private.”

you smile faintly. “or we order in.”

“even better.”

his arm slides around your shoulders as you walk to the car, pulling you into his side like it’s instinct.

and this time, there are no cameras.

—