#Moon knight reader insert

[melodygatesauthor]

Praying for Love

Marc Spector X Stripper f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For the @moonknight-events Bingo Event!

Prompt: "Beg."

Summary:

Marc comes to the club where you work every week religiously. He always asks you the same question, and you always give him the same answer, no matter how pretty he looks when he's begging.

Tags/Warnings:

NSFW, stripper reader, dirty talk, begging, teasing, lap dance, coming in pants, drinking, mentions of (Marc) being drunk.

Word Count: 1.1k

You stood between Marc’s legs, dancing the same dance you did every other night he waltzed into the club. He grabbed onto your hips, his hands squeezing tighter than usual.

“Marc, you know you’re not supposed to–���

“I didn’t come here for a lecture, honey.”

You bent over, planting your ass in his face the way he liked. You felt him tuck some bills into your panties right in front of your cunt.

He chuckled, “oh, you’re wet, having a good time?”

You turned around and looked down at him, “not as good a time as you,” you nodded, staring right at the bulge in his pants. 

His cheeks flushed, and he scowled coldly at you. Despite being a difficult man, Marc was one of your favorite, and best customers. He was easy to pull a few hundred dollars out of every night with the simple act of making him think you loved him. The man was so desperate for affection and touch he’d be willing to spend any amount just to have you lie to him.

That’s not to say that you didn’t care for him in some way. You weren’t heartless, but you cared about him the way a grocery store clerk might care about the old woman sharing her life story at the checkout line unprompted. You could call it natural human empathy. Marc was a sad man, and you were trying to pay rent. The two of you had a symbiotic relationship.

He didn’t want a real relationship anyway.

You carded your fingers through his lightly gelled hair, climbing into his lap one leg at a time and straddling him. You lowered yourself so you were brushing against his bulge, rubbing your cunt along the hard length of him. You bit your lip.

“So hard for me, Marc, so big,” you leaned in, kissing the skin right below his earlobe.

“Fuck, honey,” he whispered in a raspy tone, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath.

You churned your hips more, whining into his ear and making sure to sound desperate. He liked when you really acted like you wanted him. It wasn’t far from the truth. Of all the men you’d danced for in the bar, Marc was in the top five that you’d consider actually sleeping with. You weren’t going to though. You had a strict policy of not sleeping with your customers. They tended to get too attached. 

That didn’t mean you couldn’t ruin a pair of pants or two though. It always kept them coming back for the hopes that next time you might give them more.

“When are you gonna let me fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?” He asked in a low grumble.

You chuckled, “maybe if you beg real nice I’ll consider it.”

Marc sneered at you, lip curling up in a snarl. He grabbed your asscheeks roughly, eyes locking onto yours while he looked at you from under his lashes. He always got a little rough when he was that drunk, and you liked it.

“Just fuck me, come on.” He rubbed the meat of your hip, trying very clearly to keep his composure.

“You gotta do better than that,” you whispered, grinding your crotch even harder against his.

“Fuck, just take it out, please, just sit on my dick for a second baby. Just a goddamn second. I won’t tell,” he looked up at you, eyes pleading desperately.

You dragged yourself along his clothed bulge again, watching his eyelashes flutter so pretty.

“You want this?” You rocked yourself on him again. “You want my pussy baby?”

You moaned in his ear, peppering soft kisses along his jawline in between each breath you took.

“Beg,” you demanded.

He growled and held your hips against his lap tightly, rutting upward and breathing heavy.

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars just to let me stick the tip in. Just let. me. fuck. you.” He breathed.

You tutted, rolling yourself over him more, moving your body in a dancing motion like you were supposed to all along.

“Is that all you think I’m worth? A thousand bucks?” You chuckled. “I’m not a cheap whore, try again big spender.”

You bit your lip and you could tell you were starting to get under his skin. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, you felt his cock getting impossibly hard underneath you. You could hear his breathing grow more ragged. If looks could kill, Marc Spector killed you ten times over just now.

“Honey, I’m not gonna last much longer and I know you want this. That little pussy of yours is so wet, why don’t you give it what it wants, hm?” He tucked his fingers into the leg of your panties, under the bills he’d put in there and he brushed his knuckle against your swollen clit.

You leaned in and whispered, “baby boy, I’ve been wet since my shift started a couple hours ago. You’re not special for making me horny. I do this job for a reason.”

His brow turned up and stitched together in the most pathetic look you’d ever seen on a man. He sucked in his bottom lip and looked up at you, eyes pleading desperately.

“What do I have to do,” he conceded his ego, and for that you almost - almost - gave in.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you said against his ear, flicking his lobe with the tip of your tongue.

As if his body was under your command, he came, cock twitching wildly against the zipper of his pants. You sighed, kissing his neck and nipping at the skin as if to leave a little mark for him to enjoy in the mirror the next day when he was sober and regretting his life choices. He jolted, holding you tight against his lap, his cum soaking through onto your thighs. After a moment, Marc’s breathing returned to normal after a moment, and his chest stopped heaving against yours.

You leaned back, grabbing his hand and pulling his finger from your panties. You brought his hand up to your mouth, popping the arousal slick digit into your mouth, sucking it free of your juices before kissing it and putting it back down at his side. You left him with a kiss on the cheek and a tap on his nose with your index.

“I’ll be back next time, honey, and next time I’m gonna feel that cunt,” he slurred on his way out the door.

“I’ll look forward to it,” you smirked, knowing full well that you’d have the same song and dance next time, and every time after that.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[chaostheoryy]

Steven Grant X Reader Requests anyone? (GN! or M! readers)

Steven Grant’s autistic ass is singlehandedly keeping me going in life right now so if anyone has any wonderful ideas for gender neutral or male reader stories, hit me up.

Fluff, hurt/comfort, explicitly sexual? Doesn’t really matter to me, let’s hear those ideas!

[jokeringcutio]

Imagine prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader | Kaiserschmarrn

Imagine prompt: Arthur Harrow x Reader  ( Age difference references)

Reader is on vacation in Austria with her parents. During a trip they’re looking for a place to eat Kaiserschmarrn. This one odd little tavern has it, but why does the owner of the place sit down with them?

Your parents take you on vacation to Austria, for two whole weeks. A country they had taken you to visit during holidays before.

You, a young adult, fresh out of school, slightly embarrassed to be with your mom and dad still, but hey! They pay for you 😊 you could have been stuck at home, bored out of your mind instead.

Already on the first day you claim you want to seek out a place to eat kaiserschmarrn, a dish from Austria that you ate before and loved.

During your trips, you visit different at-the-side of the road eating places, as well as any restaurants in the villages you come across near lunch time, all in search of this dish.

During your fourth day, your parents take you on a trip to a mountain at the edge of the valley. Near lunch time, you seek out a place to eat. There’s this nice looking place near the side of the road with overhanging flowers and a terrace to sit and eat. It isn’t very crowded, but looks pleasant enough. You decide to go there.

When you tell them you’re on a quest to eat kaiserschmarrn, the serving girl smiles kindly and tells you that she will have the cook prepare some specially for you.

You are served the dish, and by GOD, it is the tastiest you’ve ever had.

You tell your parents and the waitress this.

You’re having a final drink before you will leave again when a man comes to sit at your table.

He walks slowly and uses a cane. You pity him at first.

The girl who works there introduces him as their leader. You and your parents assume he is their employer and the one who owns this little tavern.

The man introduces himself as Arthur Harrow. Little wrinkles crinkle near his eyes as he smiles at you. You think he looks nice, alluring even. What are you thinking again? You can’t have those thoughts about a man twice your age, if not more!  Ashamed of your own lurid thoughts, you glance at the table, but you can’t look away from him for too long. He talks in a gentle voice and is kind, asking your parents about your trip and inquires after your thoughts on the holiday so far.

Occasionally, he looks your way, and smiles. You feel like he is trying to get you in on the conversation, even though you’re obviously way too shy to say much. For some reason talking has become impossibly hard when he is around.

Okay, so you’re attracted to him, clearly, by the way your body is reacting in desire. Your heart is thumping in your throat. Your core itches hot and slick. But this is an older man with rings on his fingers and a life build here. He won’t see you and be thinking the same. He is just nice, right? You try and quiet the wild fantasies flying through your head while Arthur Harrow stands up and shakes your parents’ hands. When he tells you ‘till next time’ you feel your knees go wobbly and quickly look at the ground instead of him. You mumble a goodbye.

The meal was so very nice, as was the owner of the place who invited you back – luring you and your parents with the promise of a discount- that two days later your parents decide to go for a quick stop and lunch again.

You’re elated because it means you’ll get that delicious meal again.

You’re elated, because it means you might get a glimpse of that delicious man again.

He does not disappoint. Arthur Harrow comes to sit with you and your family again after the meal. You notice how he keeps throwing you glances.

How his hand carefully slid up your knee under the table.

You did not imagine that, did you?

He talks to your parents more than to you, but you don’t mind. He seems to get along with your dad surprisingly well though. You wonder if it’s an age kind of thing. Wait. Is that Harrow’s hand on your knee again?

You visit his tavern more often, taking full opportunity to enjoy the food and the discount. Your parents certainly don’t mind.

They get their inquiries from Harrow. They ask him about the area you are visiting, about the people and their habits, about sights to see nearby. He gives them golden advice and you have a lovely week, seeing sights and visiting cities suggested by Arthur. And each time you return to him and your parents gush about how marvellous his suggestion had been, you sit there and stare at how he smiles.

You also accept the free ice cream he offers, barely noticing his eyes darkening with desire when your tongue swirls around the fresh, cold tip.

Each time you visit there, he makes sure to come over to your table. It is as if he is waiting for you to come. You wonder if this is true, or if it’s just a fantasy inside your head. You know that you hope he has been waiting for you.

You also wonder if he has been angry or disappointed the few times that your family did not stop by for a meal because your trips headed in a different direction. You know you had been.

It is shortly before the end of your holiday, when you overhear something odd. You notice how Harrow manages to make your father laugh. They seem to get along really well. Then, while your mother is to the toilet, Harrow lets it slip to your father that ‘he has a lovely daughter, one could only be too happy to marry’. Your father agrees. Then Harrow suggests if he asked for your hand, would your father refuse? And your father, speculating, says he would allow a man like him. Sure.

Arthur’s eyes then lock with yours and you see them dark and smouldering. Whatever emotion is in there, it sends sparks straight to your core. You bite your lip and squeeze your leg, but the moment is over. He has turned his head again, now back in conversation with your father. You wonder if it had been a dream. But then you recall the stolen glances he had given you the past few days. The brush of his fingertips past your hand or his light touch on your bare legs – thanks to the summer dresses that you wore. Or his soft whispers and kind eyes whenever he spoke to you directly. You feel your cheeks heat up.

It is the day before you’re leaving. Your parents decide to have one final lunch at the tavern of Harrow. He is there, of course, waiting for you and your parents to arrive, and sits down at your table before you even ordered anything yet.

Your father and him talk about the weather and other mundane things, and you sit with your mother, wondering if everything that occurred two days before had all just been in your mind.

But then you hear how Arthur talks your father into going for a trip that same afternoon, that he convinces him to go into town with him as your guide. Your mother doesn’t seem too delighted, but neither does she seem utterly opposed to it. You just blush. Of course you want Harrow as your guide. And so it is settled. Arthur leaves the table to ‘prepare some things’ and you watch him as he walks from your sight, casting one last look at you from over his shoulder. A look, you think, that holds a promise of desire.

After lunch, you and your parents follow Harrow into the adjacent town. You notice how everyone steps aside for him. How they look at him in awe. Worship his feet.

Your mother is convinced he has brought you into a cult, but he calls it his community.

Slowly, more and more about his community and his status in it is revealed. You learn they worship some ancient goddess. That they see him as her avatar. That their community is more like a religion. That you’ve walked into some kind of lion’s den.

Your mother doesn’t like it. She openly voices the suggestion to head back, lying that she is tired. But Arthur, seeing through her lies, suggests she can have a lie down here while he escorts you and your father further through town. He even has some water and fruit fetched for her. But she claims she wants to go home.

At this, Arthur turns to your father, gently takes him by the arm, and moves him aside. You overhear how he asks your dad to seal the deal. From where you are standing you can see Harrow take the initiative to shake your father’s hand, making it definite. Promising you to him.

It finally dawns upon your dad that this man is serious.

When your father sputters that maybe this is going too fast and besides, you are your own person, Arthur’s followers come to stand closer around you all. The situation suddenly less friendly and more frightening. And then Arthur calmly yet firmly states that you and your family are in no position to leave.

Arthur announces he will use the scales to see if you’re worthy to join.

Touching your father’s hand, the scales tip green, he is deemed worthy.

Then he goes over to your mom and does the same. The scales now tip red. He tells her this means her death.

Your brain stops. This man, this kind spoken, heart-warmingly helpful man you’d been crushing so hard on these past two weeks – this man orders for your mom to be murdered? You think it must be some kind of joke. That none of this is real. But then you see a man stand behind your mother with a gun, and your reality shatters.

You cry out for him to stop. He must be kidding, right? “It is me you want, right?” you ask, seeing Arthur’s sad expression as he locks eyes with you. “How can I ever love you, knowing that you’ve killed my mom?”

“You will love me,” he states in that sweet, caring voice of his. “All I do is for your benefit as well as ours,” and he indicates the community.

He is still holding your mother’s hands, whispering kindly.

A moment later, she’s grey like stone and falls to the floor. He lets her go. For that you do not think you can ever forgive him. Dead.

You cry out loudly. Your father thinks all of this is just Arthur joking at first, then steps in between you and your mother’s corpse and realizes she’s truly gone. Anger bursts from him, anger and hurt to which Arthur replies by stepping closer to him. They are now only a hair-breadth apart, but you can hear Arthur’s whisper nevertheless.

He tells you father that he has no qualms in taking him out as well if he stands in the way. When your father does not budge, Arthur’s hands reach out. And although your father tries to dodge the hands that reach for him, he too crumbles to the floor.

The order is given to take the bodies away. Arthur turns his back to your parents. You try to get over to their side, but he catches you easily as you try to pass him by. His voice hissing in your ear as he presses your body against his own.

You can’t step away, clutching at the arm wrapped around your chest. Arthur holds you, pressing you close to his chest and shushing you while his men drag away the bodies of your murdered parents.

All the while, Arthur is whispering sweet words in your ear, new nicknames. You feel his breath upon your skin and the heat of his body against your own.

Once the bodies are gone, Arthur Harrow calls for his people to come and stand in a circle around the two of you. He then performs the judging ritual on you. The scales tip to the green side, but their colour is not green. The scales glow purple, the ink looking more like glitter than anything else.

The colour dies out like golden sparks.

“You are destined to do great things”

Arthur Harrow is not about to let you go. Not ever. The goddess has given you to him to share his pleasure and bear his gifts. And he intends to make full use of you.

@grabberwife42 | @willshipanything-blog

[jedinerd27]

Okay so I lied when I said I would update the Final part of the Moon and the Stars.... The last part is coming soon I promise. I FINALLY found motivation to write.

It should be in a week or so

(Sorry, I was doing school stuff for the last few months, and was just so focused, but it gave me ideas on what to write for in world spinoffs of the fic!)

[supercap2319]

Moon Knight: "Y/N, I don't bottom, but..."

Mr. Knight: "I do. I like to please my partners."

[horangislittletiger99]

Describing my taste in men in one image

[boy-of-death]

I want to thank all the girls and the gays that are obsessed with shows that ended 10 years ago and still write about it. Thank you for your service, you are my sole lifeline 🫡

[marksbear2]

Holy moly, mate! Your Steven Grant fanfiction was so DELICIOUS! Also, can I request another Steven Grant x male reader? Bottom Steven for the soul! When you have time of course!

I saw your reblog of that fic I wrote it made me laugh. Your flattering me and I have no problem with doing you a favor.

warnings ⚠️Stressed out reader, dirty talk, smut, fingering, riding, lingerie Steven, kinky and romantic.⚠️

SUB STEVEN GRANT X TOP MALE READER

Laying on the living room couch reading his book waiting for his husband to come home since he has an surprise waiting for him. Steven's head pops up from his book once he hears the front door click open and the sound of getting shut.

Steven takes the right corner on the top of the page and bends it so he can remember his page and closes the book before rushing out of his desk to greet his husband.

"Y/n! Welcome back home." Steven greets with a smile standing close to Y/n. "Hey baby, I missed you." Y/n says before putting down his suit case and wraps his arms around Steven. Steven could feel how tense and see how tired Y/n was. "How was work?" Steven asks softly cupping Y/n's face with his hands. 

"Just stressful and tiring. But it's nothing you should worry about my love." Y/n says trying to reassure him at the end, 

"Love the robe by the way Steven." Y/n says complimenting him with a sweet kiss on the lips. Steven returns the kiss before taking Y/n's arm and leads him to the bedroom.  

Steven drags Y/n to the bed before sitting him down on the edge bed. Steven spreads Y/n's legs open and stands between them already blushing like a mad man. Steven slowly begins to undo the robe.

Steven lets the robe slowly roll off his shoulders showing off the beautiful see through white top of the lingerie. Steven's body squirms feeling Y/n's eyes stare at his chest and nipples. Finally the robe falls onto the floor behind Steven. The panties of the lingerie have the initials of Y/n name, but Y/n wasn't paying attention to it though only looking at Steven's hard cock inside of it. 

"God Steven...What is this all bout? You're making me feel like our wedding night again." Y/n teases with a wink causing Steven to let out a small giggle. 

"I'm doing this because it's my duty as a husband. I'm supposed to take care of you and help you when you feel tired and overworked. I'll do anything you'd like." Steven says with a warm smile. "Really? Anything?" Y/n says with a mischief smirk. Steven nods his head yes. 

"Alright...I want to see your ass Steven. Show me your ass." Y/n commands Steven turns his body around and bends down showing his ass. "So fucking beautiful Steven." Y/n praises running his fingers against the fabric of the lingerie. Y/n hooks the lingerie with his fingers moving the lingerie to the side getting a good look of Steven's hole. 

"You even prepped yourself. Such a good boy for me." Y/n seeing some of the lube leaks. "Cmon spread yourself open, so I can get a better look." Steven does what he's told using his fingers to spread open his hole. "Now would you lay on the bed for me?" Steven quickly moves to the bed laying down on the bed. 

"God Steven. I can't just get over how beautiful you look. I'm such a lucky man to be married to a man like you baby~" Y/n praises using his hands to rub circles on Steven's hips. 

"I-its for you to enjoy." Steven stutters out feeling his whole body get warm and fuzzy. Y/n taps on Steven's inner thigh signaling him to open them. Steven spreads open his legs before looking down at Y/n.

Y/n begins to kiss and bite Steven's thighs marking them as his. He leaves hickeys and other bite marks on them. After has enough parking him he goes up to Steven's chest. Y/n begins to grope Steven's chest through the lingerie. Y/n uses his free hand to pull down the bra then moves his hand around his nipples pulling them and twisting them. 

Steven squirms and moans softly as Y/n teases him.

Y/n watches with curiosity looking down at Steven's aching cock. It twitches rapidly inside the lingerie desperately trying to be let out. "You've been edging yourself huh baby?" Y/n asks moving his left hand down guiding it down touching Steven's chest and stomach until he reaches his crotch. "Yes sir! F-for hours." Steven weakly moans out. 

"Really? For hours baby you waited for me to tell you to cum?" Y/n asks rubbing his hands against Steven's hard dick. Steven ignores the question as he grinds down into Y/n's hand. 

Y/n pulls his hand away with a slight evil laugh before kissing Steven's exposed stomach. Y/n begins to trail up leaving every single spot that's not covered by the lingerie leaving a sweet kiss. Once Y/n is done with that spot he begins to kiss Steven's shoulders and neck. 

After Y/n kisses Steven all over he pulls a back looking down at Steven taking everything in. Y/n pulls down the bottom part of the lingerie letting Steven's cock fly free.

"Cum. Cum for me Steven." Y/n commands. Steven lets out a few whimpers before throwing his head back. "Can y-you please touch me." Steven whimpers. "No baby. I told you to cum now do it." 

Steven lets out a loud moan before cumming hard. Steven's cock shoots long white streaks of cum. "Gah!~ oh fuck oh fuck! aHhhH" 

To Steven it feels never ending. His legs tremble as he rides out his orgasm. Steven felt his whole body become weak from his intense orgasm. Steven's upper body was covered in his own cum. 

Steven's cock was still hard twitching making it more sensitive. To see is he actually sensitive Y/n tugs on Steven's cock watching Steven arch his back and let out a moan. 

As Steven tries to calm down from his own high Y/n begins to strip out of his clothes while Steven is in pure bliss. Once Y/n was fully naked he spit into his hand jerking off his cock making it wet enough for Steven. 

Once Y/n thought it was enough he lined up his cock to Steven's entrance. Y/n slowly moves the tip in and out trying to be as gentle as he can. 

Soon enough Y/n moves deeper into Steven at a slow pace. Y/n leans his body forward so he's close to Steven close enough to kiss him and hear him. 

"How are we doing Steven." Y/n whispers into his ear slowly thrusting inside him. "G-good. You feel so good sir." Steven moans out in pure bliss. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for Steven. Y/n wasn't the most gentle and sweet man during sex, but when he is it's great and beautiful for the both of them.

"You feel so good for me Steven. You're such a great husband for this Steven." Y/n praises moving his cock even deeper inside Steven. 

Steven wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders holding him tight. 

Y/n rocks his hips back and forth trying to be as gentle as he can. Y/n moves his face to the crook of Steven's neck kissing it softly. "Fuck. F-fuck." Y/n groans out as Steven feels his cock twitch inside him. 

Y/n begins to pick up his pace, but not too fast or rough. Y/n's thrust was at a perfect speed for him to reach his peak. 

"Steven~ ohh~ fuck Steven. I'm close." Y/n says with a moan moving his hands onto either sides of the bed holding onto the sheets tightly as he fucks deep, but gentle inside Steven. 

"Stevey!~ fuck baby! I'm about to cum!" Y/n warns feeling Steven scratching and holding onto his back. Steven could feel his own cock about to cum as well. With a few more thrust Y/n cums deep inside Steven burying his seed deep inside him. Steven wanted to cum right there and then, but he stopped himself. He wanted to be a good husband for Y/n and cum on his command. 

"Y/n! can I cum? please let me cum!~ I wanna cum so bad." Steven mewls out. "Yes baby. Fuck- you can cum." Y/n tells him. Steven doesn't need to get told twice by cumming hard. 

Y/n helps him out by using his free hand to jerk him off. Steven bolts his hips into Y/n's hand cumming all over his hand and himself. 

"Y-Y/n! I love you! I love you so much." Steven cries out throwing his head back. 

"I love you to Steven."

THE END

[lordofthenerds97]

Wake Up Call

Steven Grant x Reader Rating: E, 18+, MDNI Summary: You were tired and irritated. You did not want to go to work. So, what better way to wake up than your boyfriend's thigh between your legs?

A/N: This was originally supposed to be just a cute lil blurb for @area-fiftyone, and it ended up morphing into this monster 😂 I blame you, darling. And she's just fueling my newfound obsession with this man, so maybe expect a pt 2 at some point?

You woke with a groan, throwing an arm over your eyes to try and block out the light that was streaming through the window. The alarm was blaring insistently somewhere to your left and you haphazardly swatted for the off button.

When it continued to howl in protest despite your attempts to silence it, you snarled in frustration and slammed the side of your fist into the clock, feeling the crunch of the small appliance under your hand. You shook your hand out, wincing at the discomfort and the shards of plastic that were digging into your skin.

Shit, you thought. There goes another one.

You didn’t really have the energy to care about the fact you’d have to stop by a shop on your way home…in fact, you didn’t really have the energy for anything at all at the moment.

You were just so damn tired.

Between work, looking for a flat of your own, your ass of a brother getting himself in trouble again, and the stress of trying to make it in London of all places, it was no wonder exhaustion was beginning to creep in.

You laid there for a moment, arm slung over your eyes, and tried to convince yourself that you needed to get up.

The alarm you set was barely going to give you time to dress and take the train, much less dally around in bed.

But, instead of slowly pulling yourself to your feet (like you knew you should) and getting dressed for work (you really should, if you kept this up, you were going to be late and probably reprimanded), you snuggled deeper into the mattress, the warmth radiating around you and pulling you back in.

The autumn air had chilled the flat, and you knew the wood floors were going to be hell on your feet as soon as you stood. Goosebumps had already risen on your skin, and you didn’t want to face the cold just yet.

Not when the warmth of the bed was practically heaven compared to what you would have to deal with when you did finally get up.

A deep hum reverberated at your back and you smiled sleepily as a large arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you backwards against a solid, warm chest. You almost yelped at being dragged away from the heat your body had carved out of the mattress, but feeling him press up against you halted any squirming on your part.

“Someone’s rather grumpy this morning.”

His voice was deep and raspy with sleep as he nuzzled into the back of your neck, nosing your hair out of the way so he could place gentle kisses to your bare skin.

A small shiver ran down your spine as his arm tightened around you. A soft sigh escaped your lips as he hummed again, his fingers tracing mindless patterns across your bare stomach.

You couldn’t deny that this was your favorite way to wake up.

Steven pulled you tighter against him, his thigh slipping between your legs. You bit back a moan as he rocked back and forth, his thigh dragging deliciously across your cunt. The heat from his naked form made you forget, at least for a moment, what you had been upset about in the first place.

You burrowed further into the sheets, wrapping the silky softness around yourself. Steven curled around you like a cat, spreading soft kisses across your bare shoulders and alternating between slowly grinding his hips against your ass and helping you ride his thigh. A quiet moan was pulled from your throat as he reached up, his hand fitting perfectly around the swell of your breast.

“Steven,” you gasped, pushing your hips back to meet him.

He grunted against you, rolling your nipple between his fingers and teasing your already bruised skin with his teeth.

You could feel the press of his cock at your back, teasing your cheeks apart ever so slightly and dipping between them as he rut into you. His other arm had managed to worm its way under you, coming up to palm at your other breast. You gasped and arched into him as he teased and tweaked your nipples. Your hand flew back to tangle into his velvety curls.

Steven growled, his lips moving from your shoulder to your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point before sucking the delicate skin into his mouth and purposely taking extra time to leave a mark. One of his hands traveled down your stomach, his fingers splaying wide as he came down to rest where your body connected with his thigh.

“So wet f’me already, love,” he whispered, his sleep-addled voice sending your head spinning. His fingers spread your lower lips apart, cradling either side of your pulsing clit. But instead of adding pressure or teasing you or providing something, he simply held his fingers there, pressing his leg up into you and encouraging you to move.

You keened and rolled your hips, grinding down onto his thigh, catching his fingers in the process. The angle that he caught your clit between his thigh and finger sent a shock of pain and pleasure down your spine and had your eyes rolling back. You could feel Steven grinning against your neck. He pressed another hot, open mouthed kiss to your skin before drawing back up and nipping on your earlobe gently. “Gonna make you come just like this,” he growled, tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. “Riding my thigh with my cock in your arse.”

You gasped and nodded, sliding up and down his thigh with ease. You’d coated him with your slick already, and with the way he was whispering in your ear, you could feel the wetness oozing from your core as it clenched around nothing.

“Yes,” you replied, tugging at the strands of hair that were still tangled around your fingers. “Please, Steven-“

He hummed approvingly, reaching up and rubbing a delicate circle around your clit.

You couldn’t resist. You reached up with your free hand, squeezing your tit and grinding down harder onto his hand. It was devastating to not have both his hands on you; to not feel the drag of his fingers inside you and the pinch of his other hand on your nipples. You whimpered, your palm considerably smaller and nowhere near as calloused or rough as Steven’s.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Beggin’ f’me like that? Grinding your cunt on my thigh?”

You moaned, desperate to feel more of him. “Steven, please,”

“Please, what, love?” he asked, canting his hips upwards. His cock dragged through your backside agonizingly slow, and you could practically hear him grinding his teeth.

For a moment, you were wondering why he was taking a page from Marc’s book, but the thought was gone as soon as you heard his deep voice again.

“Use your words, darling. I’m not a mind reader, now am I?”

You wanted to growl in frustration at the sarcasm clearly dripping from that sinful mouth. But all you could do was whine when he removed his hand from you, making you chase your own high. “Please,” you mewled, rocking your hips and trying to find that delicious drag of your clit against him. “Please, Steven, need you to touch me. Need your hands. Need your fingers. Need your cock.”

He chuckled, a low and deep rumble that shook his chest and vibrated against your back. The sound made your core pulse with need and you whimpered as he worked a hand between the two of you, his fingers pressing just inside your aching hole.

“Ah!”

Your nerves were on fire with his touch. Your legs trembled and shook as he traced an airy circle around your entrance with a feather light touch that had you crying out and trying to shove your hips down onto his fingers. You could feel the tension pulling and boiling low in your belly.

Steven growled in your ear, a low and primal sound that made your toes tingle with anticipation. It wasn’t often you got to see this side of him; this side that was patient and demanding instead of rabid and insatiable. He thrust his hips up and you let out a sob. You could feel the thick head of his cock bumping against your tight hole as he thrust and rut into you. The thought of him breaching that hole, of fucking you in the ass, of his cock pounding into you while you chased your own pleasure on his naked thigh, had you tipping over the edge. Blinding, white hot pleasure surged through you and you couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from your throat as Steven finally, finally sank his fingers into you, working you through your climax. Your toes curled and you threw your head back, sure you knocked into his forehead as you arched into the pleasure. His cock was still sliding through your cheeks and you could feel it nudging at the puckered ring of muscle-

“Yes, God, Steven, yes-” you babbled, feeling his fingers curl and twist inside you as he milked everything you had to give him.

“That’s it, love. Soak my hand.” he rasped, latching onto your neck right below your ear.

You ground down onto him, whimpering and begging for more.

And as quickly as his touch was there, it disappeared. You whined at the loss, turning to look at him over your shoulder, confusion and indignation cutting through the hazy bliss. “What’re you-”

Manhandling wasn’t something Steven normally did. Even in the most intimate moments, he never handled you like Jake, or even Marc. He would carefully maneuver you into position, praising your every move and telling you how good you were doing. So when you were yanked sideways by a strong hand on your throat (one that was dripping with your cum), an involuntary yelp left your lips.

Steven was suddenly on top of you, slotted between your legs with the fingers of one hand splayed wide and wrapped around the base of your throat with the heel of his hand pressing down into your chest. His other arm braced the weight of his upper body above you.

Your head was spinning. You were dizzy with want, the bliss of your orgasm fading into a heady need to have him inside you. And judging by the way he stared down at you, he was feeling much the same.

His unruly black curls fell into his face, frizzy and unkempt from having your fingers holding on for dear life. You expected his breathing to be heavy, at least, or even sporadic and coming in ragged pants like yours was.

Instead, you were staring at the very visage of control. He squeezed your throat slightly, making you swallow, before grabbing your jaw and pulling your head up for a kiss.

For a brief moment, you wondered if one of the others had taken control. This wasn’t like Steven.

No…your Steven was sweet and gentle and would torture you with pleasure. He was adorable and kind and ever so eager to please you, whether it was with his cock or his tongue.

But whatever had gotten into Steven today…you couldn’t say you hated the change of pace. Besides, the gathering wetness between your legs would prove you a liar anyways.

He licked into your mouth and you didn’t hesitate to open for him, allowing him to explore to his heart’s content. His cock was a heavy weight on your stomach, and you could feel it twitching against you, practically begging for attention.

You tried to reach down and take him in your hand but he pulled away from the kiss, snagging your bottom lip between his teeth as he did, and smacked your hand away.

“‘M not coming anywhere except in that gorgeous cunt,” he said, pupils so wide they almost swallowed his chocolate brown irises. You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone words, so you simply nodded. He growled again, leaning over you to suck another dark mark into your left breast while massaging the other. “Felt the way you fucked yourself on my fingers when I got close to your arse,” he said, moving to kiss and nip at your other tit. “That what you want? Yeah?”

You moaned, arching into his mouth and tangling your fingers into his hair again.

God, his voice.

“Yes,” you begged, nails digging into his scalp and scratching a little harder than you meant to. “Please!”

The chuckle he let out was low and dark and made you shiver. He licked his way up your throat, brushing his lips against your ear.

“No.”

You stilled below him, eyes wide as he pulled back to stare down at you with a smirk. “I’m going to fuck this cunt until you’re screaming. And then, if you’re good, maybe I’ll take your arse.”

“I’ll be good,” you whined immediately. You bit your bottom lip, glancing away at his approving hum.

“I know you will, love,” he said gently, leaning down for another kiss. It was soft and tender and everything your Steven embodied. You wiggled your hips slightly, making him groan and readjust above you before breaking the kiss “Always such a good girl for me.”

You nodded feverishly, dragging your nails down his shoulders and taking them across his back.

He hissed, reaching down and grabbing the meat of your thigh, hiking your leg up and over his shoulder. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cock notching at your entrance.

It was then that you noticed his chest was beginning to heave, and he dropped his forehead down to rest against yours. “Ready for me?” he asked.

You swallowed and nodded, curling your other leg around his hip and digging your heel into his backside to encourage him forward. With a moan, he sank into you.

“Oh god, just like that, Steven!” you said, rolling your hips and panting into his mouth as he sought your lips out for a searing kiss. He moaned into you as your walls clamped down around him. He slowly dragged out of you, the swell of his cock hitting every nerve ending you had. When he rested just inside you, he slammed back in, making you shake with need.

His lips were everywhere; on your throat, your mouth, your chest, laving up the mess he’d made earlier by smearing your cum all over your marked up skin. The sounds coming from his mouth were downright sinful, and you briefly thought that he had no right to sound like that while he was pounding into you mercilessly.

His hand skimmed down your leg, grabbing your knee and jumping your leg higher around his waist as he tried to fold you in half atop the mattress. A strangled sound, somewhere between a plea and a moan, came from the back of your throat, and he rolled his hips before smacking your ass as he delivered another harsh thrust.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” he asked.

You whimpered and reached for him, fingers digging into his bicep. “I’m trying,” you panted. “Trying to be good for you. Ah, there-“

He had reached between your connected bodies, his deft and expert fingers finding your swollen clit and applying pressure in a steady circle that had you raking your nails down his arm and pulling your leg off his shoulder to wrap it around his waist.

He grunted at the sudden movement, and you used the bit of momentum to roll the two of you over, your knee pressing into his ribs in that self defense move Jake had taught you, before Steven’s back hit the mattress.

Stars exploded behind your eyes and he let out a quiet, “Oof,” as you sank further onto his cock.

Your palms were flat on his chest to hold yourself up and Steven’s eyes bored into yours as he gripped your hips, using that deceptive strength and forcing you to rise to your knees and pull him out of you.

“That,” he said, his voice quivering, “Was quite the opposite of good, darling.”

You whimpered and nodded. The muscles in your legs trembled as you tried to hold yourself up like he wanted, but dammit, he was right there.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rolling your hips and trying to lower yourself onto him. His fingers dug into your hips, making you whine. You knew there would be bruises later. “I’m sorry baby, you just feel so good,”

He hummed, looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t place. Steven pulled you down, hard. You cried out as your hips slapped against his, your clit grinding against his pelvic bone. You could feel his fingers kneading and teasing the flesh of your ass as he worked you to your knees again, this time slamming up into you when that aching need to have him fill you completely was about to bubble over. He held you there as he lowered himself back to the bed, cursing under his breath at how tight you were.

“Fuck,” he snarled, dragging you back down, spreading your cheeks apart as he did.

“Steven,” you gasped, losing your balance and falling over him. You caught yourself on your forearm beside his head, feeling your hair stick to your forehead as you tried to catch yourself breath. You could feel his index finger getting closer and closer to that little puckered hole, and you grit your teeth, your cunt clenching around him.

“Come for me,” he growled, running his finger around the tight ring of muscle before pulling his hand away and delivering a punishing smack to your right cheek.

Who were you to deny him?

You let go of that building tension, losing yourself to the abyss as spark shot down your spine and made your whole body quiver.

“Steven,” you whined.

“Right here, love,” he replied, his hand tangling in your hair and guiding your forehead to his. He thrust into you a few more times, erratic and uncoordinated, before spilling himself inside you.

Your eyes were closed as you laid there, forehead against his, bodies tangled together, sharing a breath. When you opened your eyes, Steven was already looking at you.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded wordlessly, and he gave you a crooked smile, reaching out with his thumb to brush away a few stray pieces of hair.

“God, I love you.” he said after a moment, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

You hummed against him. “I love you too.” you replied when he let you go.

“Your coffee should be ready,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I made you some before you woke up. Well…Marc helped. I’m bloody awful at making American drinks.”

You snorted, settling against his chest. “I’m sure it’ll be great, baby.”

He kissed the top of your head. “We should get up and get you showered and fed, yeah? Can’t start a holiday without a proper breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to see him better. “Holiday?”

He grinned, running his fingers through your hair. “Yeah! Didn’t we tell you?”

You shook your head.

“You know that trip to the Netherlands you’ve been talking about?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’ll want to spend the day packing, love. We’ve got a plane to catch tonight.” 

[flightlessangelwings]

FawKtober2024 Part 7- Marc Spector

Kinks- anal, double penetration, toys

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), unprotected sex, pwp, established relationship, toys, overstim, praise, feelings, no physical description of reader other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- I love writing Marc with a filthy mouth and lots of praise it's just so much fun! And i need Moon Knight season 2 like yesterday lol!! This one was so fun to write and I'm happy with how it turned out so I hope y'all like it too!!

~

“Oh shit, baby,” Marc groaned, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Marc…” you whined as you clutched the sheets, “Feels so good…”

“You feel so good, baby,” he purred in your ear. 

He had you on your stomach, a pillow propped up on your hips to give him better access to your pussy. Sweat lined both your bodies as he thrust into you over and over again, hitting spots so deep that your mind spun. Your eyes rolled back into your head with every thrust of his hips and your mouth hung open so every moan and cry flowed freely. And both of you loved it.

“Fuuuck… Marc…” you mewled as he drove his cock even deeper than you ever thought possible, making you see stars. You clawed at the sheets as you screamed loudly as tears filled the corners of your eyes. 

“Baby,” he mumbled incoherent praise as he nibbled on your ear, “Oh fuck…”

Every muscle in your body tensed as your climax suddenly snuck up on you. You cried out in pure ecstasy as you trembled underneath Marc, your inner muscles squeezing his cock as you came hard. The tears in your eyes flowed freely as an overwhelming wave of emotions crashed into you. 

“Shit baby,” Marc groaned as he felt a wave of pleasure run up his spine as he savored the feeling of your release, “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed his way along your neck, turning your head to kiss you deeply on the lips, “You think you’re ready for what’s next now?” he purred against your lips.

“Fuck yes,” you panted as you caught your breath. Between your orgasm and the way Marc kissed you, you felt like all the air had been sucked from your lungs. 

“That’s my girl,” he kissed you again before he grunted as he lifted himself up and slowly pulled out of you. “Fuck…” Marc was captivated as he watched your pussy clench around nothing as he pulled out of you. Between your legs glistened with your release as you laid comfortably on your stomach right where he left you. Trailing his gaze up, Marc’s eyes landed on the jewel that sat nested in your other hole. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get prettier,” he murmured as he caressed your ass.

“Marc…” you whined as you felt his hand on your ass. As nervous as you were at first, you were even more needy for him to fuck you in the ass now. You trusted him, and you needed to feel him inside you more than anything. “Please…” you begged. 

“I can’t say no to you, baby,” he groaned as he carefully wrapped his fingers around the toy, “Deep breath, baby.”

You winced as he slowly pulled the plug out of your ass, but you could tell even in your post climax haze that he was extra careful with you. Faintly, you heard soft words of praise as he caressed your body with his free hand as he finished pulling the toy out and set it aside. From behind you, there was a pop as Marc opened the lube and thoroughly coated his cock with it.

“You ready, baby?” he asked, his tone low with concern.

“Ready,” you breathed as you propped yourself up some more, presenting your ass for him.

“Shit…” Marc gasped at your display. He froze in awe as he soaked in the sight of you before him, but then he got an idea. “Wait here.”

Before you could ask what he was up to, Marc was gone and back in a flash. You felt the bed dip behind you once more  as he settled back into position.

“Tell me the moment it gets too much. Got it?” He turned serious.

“I will,” you promised.

Marc leaned over and kissed your lower back as he eased a toy into your still soaking wet pussy. He groaned against your skin as you cried out as he nestled it deep inside you. 

“Good girl,” he moaned as he stroked his cock once more, coating it with more lube, “Now, you ready for me?”

“Oh fuck yes,” you didn’t care how eager you sounded, you needed him.

Marc groaned as he squeezed your ass, slapping it once before kneading your soft flesh and parting it to reveal your asshole. He swallowed hard, focusing as he lined himself up with your tight hole before he slowly pushed just the tip in. Both of you gasped at the intrusion, but moans and cries of pleasure from both of you quickly filled the room.

“You ok, baby?” Marc panted as he fought with everything he had to hold himself back as he moved as slow as he possibly could to avoid hurting you.

“Yes,” you gasped as you clutched at the sheets, “It hurts a bit,” you admitted in a hushed tone, “But I’m ok… Starting to feel good.”

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned as more of his cock pushed into your ass, “So tight,” Marc caressed your hips as he finally sheathed himself completely inside you, “I won’t last long, baby.”

“Marc…” you whined as your emotions completely overwhelmed you. Never before in your life had you felt more full, more satisfied, more loved. It wasn’t just that Marc had both of your holes stuffed full. It was the way he tenderly held you, making sure he never hurt you while he took your ass for the first time. It was the way he kissed your skin and whispered sweet nothings against you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured as he rocked back and slowly thrust forward, eliciting a moan from you, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

All you could do was moan, even though you wanted to say how much you trusted him. You wanted to tell him how safe you felt in his arms. You wanted to tell him how good he made you feel, even though the pain. But all you could do was moan and cry out with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, baby,” Marc grunted, “You feel so good,” he repeated himself over and over, the same praises the same curses as he started to speed up his thrusts, “Won’t last long… Fuck…”

“Marc… Fuck…” was all you could get out as you felt his cock rock in and out of your ass while the toy started nested in your pussy. With every time he moved, it jostled inside of you, hitting your sweet spot again and again. 

Marc snaked one hand out in front of you, taking your hand in his. He clutched it tightly as he thrust into you, holding you tightly. His other hand reached around your hip to rub at your clit, and you could tell he was close and wanted to take you over the edge with him. It was an edge you would gladly follow him over.

“Baby… Fuck… I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, “Cum with me, baby. Let me feel you,” he grunted as he felt a tingle up his spine and he knew he was about to explode, “Come on, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Marc!” you screamed as his words were the last push you needed.

With one final deep thrust, both you and Marc fell apart at the same time. He groaned your name in your ear as he spilled himself deep inside you. His legs trembled as he fought to keep himself from collapsing on top of you while your whole body shook underneath him. A harmony of yours and his screams echoed in the room as he rode out your climaxes together, his hand still tightly holding yours.

As you whimpered, Marc slowed his thrusts, kissing anywhere he could reach as he stilled himself. “Hang on, baby,” he groaned, his throat sore, “I’ve got you.”

Carefully, Marc pulled out of you just as slowly as he pushed in. Both of you gasped and whined as he did, the act almost as intimate as when he entered you the first time. Marc never let go of your hand, and he kissed along your back in a comforting gesture. Once he was fully out of you, he stopped for a moment and watched as his seed came next, leaking out of your ass and down your folds. 

“Baby, I lied before,” Marc admitted.

“What?” your mind was still a whirlwind, but you turned over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Your eyes were puffy from the tears and you were sure you looked like a mess. But Marc only stared at you with loving adoration and a big grin on his face.

“Now you’ve never looked more beautiful,” he said with a smile that lit up the room.

“Shut up,” you giggled as you flopped back down onto the bed.

Marc joined in your laughter as he leaned forward and kissed your skin, staring at your ass. He made his way up your back, stopping to nibble at your shoulder before making his way up your neck. His large hand caressed your jaw and turned you to meet his lips where he kissed you deeply. His tongue immediately darted past your lips to taste you and hold your tongue with his. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too, Marc,” you murmured back.

“Now let me take care of you.”

“You always do, baby,” you replied with a smirk.

[tom-whore-dleston]

My Love for You is as Dead as the Leaves on the Ground

Pairing: Marc Spector x f. reader

Word Count: 609

This fic contains: angst with happy ending, toxic situationship, vegetation plays as allegory to Marc and reader's relationship

Summary: You reflect on your past with Marc on your walk home.

Notes: I recently broke off a relationship that wasn't actually a relationship and honestly I couldn't be happier. As much as I wanna be petty and expose him to everyone that we knew, writing a fic about how toxic he was is a healthier route to coping. This will be my submission for @the-slumberparty Winds of Autumn challenge.

prompt: crispy leaves 🍁 walking home alone

themes: Preservation 🫙 in preparation for the coming winter, we try to hold onto the last bit of warmth. Write about letting go, or not wanting to. Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace.

It’s a chilly November afternoon. You stepped out of the cafe, which was in the middle of the lunchtime rush hour, and into the busy streets of the city. Everyone was in a hurry to get around, except for you. It was your day off and you desired nothing more than to slow down. You took a careful sip of your pumpkin flavored latte before heading towards the direction of your home. 

Arrays of red and orange leaves crunched under your brown boots as you strolled down the paved street. Something about the dead leaves on the ground reminded you of a tarnished love you fell out of. The love you once had for Marc Spector was a lush garden that you watered and nourished so precisely. At first, Marc was alongside you in tending to the garden. Over time, tensions and heat rose, causing the garden to wilter and lose its green. You would be the one to clean up the mess in the garden. Meanwhile, Marc would stand in the shade and watch you bringing this garden back to life. 

You should have known that Marc didn’t love you the same way you loved him. Every “I love you” and “I choose you” that he proclaimed from the depths of his chest was the fertilizer to grow a labyrinth of bushes to trap you in. You believed those words, causing you to get lost in the maze of manipulation. You tried to get out of the labyrinth. You really did. Yet every time you tried to escape, the thorns would knick your skin or you would trip over the vines. Then, Marc would pick a rose from the bushes of the labyrinth and tuck it neatly into your hair. 

According to the calendar you had followed your whole life, autumn was supposed to begin September 21. However, living in California meant that it would remain sunny and hot up until the end of October or beginning of November. With the hot weather rolling into fall, Marc tended to the garden even after you had long abandoned it. It made you angry that he decided a little too late to love you the way you wanted and tend to this garden. You had enough.

The most courageous thing you have done in this phase of detaching from Marc was to chop down the bushes Marc grew around you. Luckily, you got help from other lonely gardeners to break down these plump green walls. It was only a matter of time before you got to see that sunlight again. You forgot what it was like to feel that light on your skin. 

After the maze of bushes were destroyed, autumn arrived at the perfect time. You were reminded that no summer lasts forever. More importantly, the pain and exhaustion experienced from loving Marc and gardening with–no, for–him won’t last forever. The clouds rolled in at the beginning of November, a beautiful yet haunting foreshadow of the end of you and Marc.

The temperatures finally dropped. Rain finally fell from the sky. You finally cut Marc from your life like a pesky weed. Now, you can finally turn over a new leaf and enjoy this new season in its entirety. 

Thank god it’s Fall. Thank god the garden is soiled. Thank god you found your own exit from that labyrinth of fake love. Thank god Marc can no longer plant roots to wreck your heart and soul. Thank god the weather is colder and you can find warmth in your own peace of mind. Thank god you followed the leaves and found your way home. Thank god you are home.

Navigation | Fic Masterlist | Marc Spector Masterlist

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 68

A/N - so we are traveling the multiverse...

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : i dont deserve you guys omg, i have missed you all so so much <3

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, casper hart(OC) x reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, multiverse nonsense, nothing makes sense, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

You stand there, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on your chest like a leaden anchor. The flickering torches in the temple cast shadows that dance ominously on the walls, echoing your tumultuous thoughts. Khonshu's intense gaze feels almost judgmental, stirring the pot of your frustration further. 

Taweret attempts to soothe the growing storm within you, but it’s like trying to calm a tempest with a whisper. You can’t shake the idea from your mind—that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for their sudden departure.

“Perhaps you should consider the circumstances,” Khonshu interjects, his voice deep and resonant, but this only amplifies your resentment. “Marc is caught in a cycle he cannot control. He fears for your safety.” 

Your heart aches at the mention of your dad, the man who fought every monster and shadow for your sake. But this very fight had carved lines of darkness into his spirit, and it’s painful to comprehend that your absence may have been the tipping point. Suddenly, anxiety surges, and you feel a tightening in your throat. “But I’m here! I could’ve helped! I could’ve been there for him!”

Taweret’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the ancient deity feels like the most compassionate of friends rather than a divine entity. “Your love is powerful, dear child. But know that sometimes, those we love carry burdens we cannot lift for them.” Her words settle over you, both comforting and challenging, a reminder that there are things even hugs and reassurances cannot mend.

In that moment, you resolve to take action—not out of anger, but out of a desire to bridge the gap. 

“I need to talk to them,” you declare, your voice steadier than you feel. “I’ll figure out a way to reach them in America, to remind them they are not alone.” As you turn to Khonshu and Taweret, determination ignites a new fire in your chest. “They may need help, but so do I. If they can leave, then I can go to them.” 

The ancient gods exchange glances, and for an instant, you see admiration flickering in Khonshu’s steadfast eyes, while Taweret nods earnestly. Maybe, just maybe, you have inherited more than the resilience of a warrior. 

You have inherited the strength to face the unknown, to connect the strings of love that bind your fractured family, and to affirm what you know deep down: love, even amid chaos, endures.

~~~

As Marc and Layla continued to navigate the strange streets of Chicago, an unsettling chill settled in the air, creeping beneath their skin. Shadows stretched and contorted against the fading sunlight, creating a canvas of anxiety that whispered of something ominous lurking just out of sight. 

With every step, Marc felt the ripples of his own doubts and fears pooling in his chest—fears that had crept up on him since they'd crossed into this unfamiliar dimension. He glanced at Layla, and the concern etched across her features ignited a spark within him—the need to protect her—yet he was plagued by uncertainty. “What if we don’t find our way back?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

When they reached a small park blanketed in fallen leaves, the atmosphere shifted. The silence was suffocating as if the world had held its breath. Layla’s grip tightened around Marc’s hand, the warmth of her presence a fragile tether to reality. 

“Something is definitely wrong,” she reiterated, her voice low and urgent. “I can feel it.” With a sudden resolve, she turned to face him, her eyes aflame with determination. “We need to get to the bottom of this. If Taweret isn’t responding, there’s a chance the balance is utterly thrown off. We can’t stay idle. What if this is connected to y/n?”

Marc swallowed hard, the pang of his daughter’s name igniting fresh worry within him. “You know, I tried to reach her too—with no success.” He looked down the dimming path, frustration churning in his gut. 

“Do you think… could something have happened to her? To us? What if our absence has left something open, something we can’t see?” He felt a deep unease settling in, rooted in the idea that their family—his family—was teetering on the edge without them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.

Just as the thoughts darkened, a flicker of movement caught Marc’s eye—a figure darting behind a tree, obscured by the evening haze. Heart racing, he pointed it out to Layla. “Did you see that?” The air felt electric, charged with an anticipatory energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. 

He took a cautious step forward, trying to distinguish friend from foe, but before he could act, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the quiet, wrapping around them like a noose. The shadows deepened as if mocking their cautious exploration, and Marc was suddenly struck by an overwhelming certainty: they were not alone. 

In that moment, he understood the truth of their predicament. This wasn’t just a wrong turn or a simple dimensional hiccup. Something sinister awaited them, a force that sensed their vulnerability. Whatever had drawn them into this realm had its very own agenda, and with every tick of the clock, Marc felt an impending disaster lurking just beyond the fading light—a disaster that could tear his family apart for good. 

Desperation surged through him; he needed to act swiftly.  And with that realization, something primal awakened within him—a determination to fight, not just for their return, but for every second they might lose if they didn’t escape the shadows looming closer with every passing breath.

“Is that…?” Layla asks, holding Marc’s hand a little tighter. 

“It can’t be…”

It was him. 

Arthur Harrow… but he wasn’t alone. 

You were with him.

“You’re not our y/n… you can’t be—where are we?!” Marc demands to know, stepping in front of Layla protectively. His heart races as the weight of two worlds collides, an unsettling blend of familiarity and disarray swirling around them. 

The distorted lighting of the dimly lit alley distorted the figures before them, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cracked brick walls like specters of the past.

A smirk curls on Harrow’s lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of triumph and pity. “Ah, Marc, dear boy. You don’t recognize your own memories? This is a realm woven from the threads of what could have been—a universe where Y/N chose a different path.” He gestures toward you, and for the first time, the sight of you sends a shiver down Marc's spine. 

The way you stand beside Harrow, seemingly at ease, ignites a flicker of doubt. Had you truly turned against them, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, a manipulation lurking just out of sight?

“Y/N…no,” Layla whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief as she studies your expression, desperately searching for the essence of the person they had loved and relied on. But the aura radiating from you and Harrow felt foreign, and yet unnervingly familiar. “What have you done?” Her gaze flickers to Harrow, her mind racing to the implications of this twisted reality. 

The air thickens, heavy with an unspoken challenge as you step forward, your eyes glinting with a strange resolve that neither Marc nor Layla had ever witnessed. “This is not about what I’ve done,” you assert, each word deliberate as if unveiling a hidden truth. “This is about what you both failed to see—the potential of embracing darkness to create light.”

Marc takes a step back, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. Letting go of Layla’s hand feels unthinkable, yet the pull of your magnetic presence is both unsettling and irresistible. What you appear to offer—the chance to rewrite fate—thrums in the depths of his mind. Time slows as he balances between the echoes of shared laughter and the specters of past choices—a disparate motif drumming a chaos only he seems to feel. 

In that moment, reality feels as if it's splitting at the seams, inviting them to ponder a question that they could have never prepared for: Was the path to salvation more than just battles fought in the shadows, and was it perhaps hidden in the embrace of the very darkness they fought against?

~~~

Meanwhile as you had gone and asked for help, reaching out to Peter with the situation, telling you he knew a guy, you found yourself standing nervously in front of the London sanctum. Peter had assured you he could assist, emphasizing the importance of not messing up the mysterious ritual. 

Gently, you knocked on the imposing giant doors, watching in awe as they opened slowly on their own, almost beckoning you inside. Taking a cautious look around, you entered the building at a deliberate pace, the doors closing with a resounding thud behind you. As your eyes wandered around the grand interior, a man clad in a blue suit and a striking red cape floated gracefully down the staircase. 

"Y/n y/l/n, I anticipated your arrival," he addressed you, standing a few feet away. Anxious to get answers, you anxiously started, "So... you can help me? Where are my parents?" The man raised a hand to signal for quiet, interrupting your inquiry. 

"First, there's something you must understand – your parents are not within this realm," he disclosed cryptically. Stunned, you stammered, "What? No greeting, no introduction?" Irritated, he rolled his eyes before speaking with a touch of sarcasm, "Stephen Strange. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“Yeah okay- obviously you know who I am already, so just tell me how I can bring them back,” you demand, the urgency evident in your voice as you take another determined step closer. 

“It’s not that simple. Without knowing where exactly they are, we won’t know where to go,” Stephen explains, his tone tinged with a mixture of compassion and practicality.

“Then find out!” Your impatience boils over, the desperation to reunite with your missing parents fueling your outburst. “They are my parents- I need them back!”

Stephen sighs, a shared sense of understanding passing between you both. “I empathize with your situation but it’s just not that simple. After I open the portal, you’ll need to navigate through the unknown to locate the universe they inhabit and then safely return here.”

You shift your weight impatiently, resolve shining in your eyes as you respond without hesitation, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them back.”

Stephen arches an eyebrow, recognizing the unwavering determination in your gaze. Leading you towards a separate chamber, he prepares you for the challenges ahead. “It won’t be an easy journey. There will be sights that may haunt you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I've already witnessed my biological father rising from the dead; I believe I can handle whatever lies ahead,” you assure him confidently, the memory of that astonishing event reinforcing your brave front.

Nodding at your resolve, Stephen gestures grandly, conjuring a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow sparks that converge to form a shimmering portal. As the portal expands to human-sized proportions, he steps back, the preparation complete.

Handing you a sleek triangular device, he cautions, “After you locate your parents, ensure that all of you touch this device and press the button simultaneously. It will transport you back through the portal to safety here.”

Gratefully accepting the device, you secure it in your jacket pocket, the weight of the mission ahead settling on your shoulders. “Thank you,” you express sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen replies casually, motioning towards the now-glowing portal. “Good luck on your interdimensional journey, arachnid.”

Stepping resolutely into the portal, you pause, surprised by the revelation of your alter ego that Stephen casually drops. “Um, thanks for the support.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you take the final step into the unknown, ready to traverse the intricate web of the multiverse in pursuit of your beloved parents.

~~~

Back with Marc and Layla, the tension in the room thickened as Steven and Jake continued to remain mysteriously absent, granting Marc full dominion over the body. This newfound authority weighed heavily on Marc, visible in the way his shoulders tensed and his every movement exuded uncertainty.

The second y/n, her laughter ringing ominously through the air, moved closer towards the bewildered couple. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she taunted Marc Spector, a name from a past that now seemed distant and yet hauntingly familiar. "I never thought I'd witness that look of disbelief on your face again, Marc Spector. Not since the day I extinguished your life," she chuckled darkly, twirling a dagger nonchalantly in her hand.

The widening eyes of Marc and Layla betrayed their escalating horror as the truth unfolded before them. "You... we... we're deceased in this realm? You ended my life?!" Marc's voice quivered with a blend of fear and disbelief, his world shattering into a million fractured pieces.

"It was a simple feat. You were so naïve, so easily deceived. Even Steven and Jake fell into my trap without a hint of suspicion," the mysterious figure, now identified as Harrow, reassured with a cold grip on the other y/n's shoulder. "Now, Khonshu and the others bow to my will - a reality beyond your grasp." Her laughter, tinged with madness, echoed hauntingly in the confined space, sending shivers down Layla's spine.

Layla, her voice laced with urgency and desperation, stepped forward in a bid to plead for reason. "Please, think about this. We are not meant to linger here. Allow us the chance to find our way back to where we belong."

Dismissing Layla's plea with a disdainful scoff, the other y/n's gaze darkened with a resolute finality. "This is not a dilemma we concern ourselves with. This time, the veil between life and death shall not be breached again," she stated coldly, her eyes narrowing as Harrow silently signaled permission for a potentially fatal encounter.

The impending danger loomed menacingly as Harrow's chilling smile and the ominous words she imparted to the other y/n set the stage for a confrontation that could tilt the scales of fate irreversibly. "Show them no mercy," instructed Harrow, the weight of her authority palpable in those words.

The other y/n, bearing the weight of a deeply woven past and an uncertain future, responded to Harrow's command with a stoic assurance. "As you wish, father," she affirmed, her resolve unwavering as she prepared to execute a fate that could seal the doomed couple's existence in the enigmatic realm they were trapped in.

~~~

You blink a few times as you enter the new world, the unfamiliar surroundings painting a scene of wonder and intrigue before you. 

Looking around the building you’re in, your eyes linger on the intricate design of the architecture, the way the light filters in from the skylights above casting patterns on the floor beneath your feet. Your breath catches at the grandeur of it all, a whispered "woah" escaping your lips as you try to take it all in.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, your senses are overloaded with the sights and sounds of this strange place. A low hum fills the air as a floating platform descends gracefully from the tall opening in the ceiling, the soft glow of its runes illuminating the space around you. On the platform, you spot a man standing tall, his expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he gazes down at you. 

Beside him stands another figure, much smaller in stature but no less intriguing, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of wariness and fascination. As you stand there, the weight of the unknown pressing in around you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation. 

"Dad..? Is that you?" you called out eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as the platform steadily approached. Drawing nearer, a mixture of hope and doubt churned within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. 

However, as the figure on the approaching platform became clearer, revealing features that bore no resemblance to your father, a wave of disappointment washed over you.

"Do I look like your dad?" he asks sarcastically, a playful glint in his eye, as you shake your head in response. Meanwhile, the tiny floating woman, with her ethereal presence, seems to defy the laws of physics by almost teleporting right into your face. Startled, you take a step back, a mix of surprise and intrigue dancing in your eyes.

"Aww! Look how cute she is!" the tiny woman exclaims, her voice overflowing with a sense of wonder and delight. As she gushes over your mystical visitor, golden sparks of pure magic emanate from her essence, casting a mesmerizing glow around her petite form.

"Uh.. weird question-“ you start to ask tentatively, your words trailing off as the weight of the larger man's presence fills the small space around you. His stern demand to "Zip it" echoes in the cramped room, silencing any further inquiries for the moment. As you gather your thoughts under the intensity of his gaze, you can't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your gut.

"How’d you find this place?” The larger man steps off the platform, stopping maybe a foot away from you, his navy and red suits boots creaking slightly under his weight as he gazes down at you with a discerning look etched across his weathered face. 

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a sense of urgency tugged at your heartstrings. "I'm just looking for my dad, man," you uttered softly, the words hanging heavy in the air.

"Did Peter B recruit you?” He asks, his voice laced with an undertone of suspicion as he eyed you intently, searching for any subtle signs of betrayal in your expression.

"Who?" you ask innocently, feigning ignorance to mask the rapid beating of your heart that threatened to give away your ruse.

The man’s body tenses almost imperceptibly at your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before the smooth mask of his suit shifts in a mechanical motion to cover his face. The sudden movement sends a shiver down your spine, a silent warning that you were playing a dangerous game with dangerous people.

"Whoa, dude, can you please calm down? I assure you, I have no intention of causing any harm." Your voice wavers slightly as you instinctively raise your hands up as a gesture of surrender before the intense situation.

Observing your reaction, he tilts his head in curiosity, taking a step closer, while the small floating woman, who seems to possess a wisdom beyond her appearance, chooses this moment to interject. "Miguel, come on, ease up a bit. Can't you see that shes, like, a child? There's no need for the gwumpy face,” she remarks, crossing her arms in a display of playfully authoritative posture.

As you press the intricate button on your ring with a sense of familiarity, you feel a rush of anticipation building up within you. The signal triggers a swift and elegant transformation process, like a metallic dance enveloping your body. 

The special material of your spider suit elegantly molds itself around you, its unique design serving both form and function. Ensuring every crevice fits snugly and each joint moves with precision, you witness the suit's shimmering surface gleaming in the dim light.

In response to your transformation, the man known only as Miguel reacts with a subtle yet noticeable gesture, raising an eyebrow beneath the mysterious cover of his mask. Slowly, deliberately, he strides toward you with an air of confidence, his movements calculated and purposeful. The space between you diminishes until you can feel the solid wall pressing against your back, a physical barrier raising your awareness.

“Tell me how you found us,” he orders, his tone firm and commanding. “Now,” he demands, his eyes piercing and unwavering.

"Listen, Miguel," you begin nervously, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm just trying to find my dad," you explain, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.

“Well, he’s not here,” Miguel interrupts abruptly, his expression hardened, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you process his words, a flood of emotions washes over you. Disappointment, frustration, and a lingering sense of determination swirl within you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

"Then I'll be on my way," you assert calmly, despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

"You know where the spider society is, I'm afraid you can't leave just yet,” he says sternly as his mask slides back into place, hiding the intensity of his gaze. He watches you intently, unyielding in his stance.

You begin to assure him, “I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I promise—" but he cuts you off, his voice unwavering, “We can't trust that—trust you to keep this secret safe.” 

"Just let her go, Miguel," the small woman interrupted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she hovered by Miguel's shoulder. Your exasperated sigh filled the tense air, a subtle indicator of your frustration in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"I'm not from this universe; I'm simply navigating my way back to my parents," you explained, your tone pleading for understanding. 

Miguel's focused gaze remains fixed on you as he calmly reaches out to operate a button situated on his sleek desk, instantly deactivating the petite woman standing nearby with a swift motion. His mask smoothly slides back into place, concealing any hint of emotion on his stoic face.

Within the blink of an eye, he lunges aggressively towards you, his hands grabbing your shoulders with a forceful grip before deftly spinning you around and forcefully pressing your back against the cold, forbidding wall.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, you adeptly duck and drop to the ground, maneuvering out of his grasp just in time to evade the sharp, menacing claws that scrape menacingly against the protective metal surface of your suit.

With skilled agility, you roll skillfully out from under his towering figure as he whirls around in search of apprehending you again, his intent clear in his predatory movements, poised for another attempt to capture you. In your hands, you deftly produce the invaluable portal device, a powerful tool that may be your key to escape or turn the tables in this tense confrontation.

Miguel's swift and aggressive move caught you off guard as he tackled you to the floor, causing your grip to loosen and the device slipped out of your hand, falling with a clatter. Your immediate protest was cut short by his forceful action as he hoisted you up by your arm, his grip a vice as he pushed you back against the unyielding wall. 

The word "stay" was a command that brooked no defiance, echoing with a threatening undertone that sent shivers down your spine.

As Miguel turned away, a surge of adrenaline propelled you into action, your instincts screaming at you to seize the opportunity to escape. You slipped away noiselessly, stealthily retrieving the precious device, your fingers trembling slightly with a mix of fear and determination. The button under your touch felt both familiar and alien, a key to another reality beckoning with unknown possibilities.

With a quick press, the device came to life, emitting a soft hum that seemed to vibrate in tune with the escalating beating of your heart. The split-second decision had been made, and as the world around you shimmered and twisted, Miguel's approaching footsteps were the last evidence of the reality you left behind.

One universe down.. many more to go.

~~~

In the alternate reality, where the version of 'you' present had decidedly not shown mercy towards Marc and Layla, an intense confrontation unfolded. Jake found himself in a pressing situation where he had to take command of the shared body to thwart the aggressive actions of the other 'you' without causing significant harm. 

This pivotal event took place just a mere hour in the past, yet its repercussions and the adrenaline of the moment still lingered in the cramped surroundings of their hideout.

Currently seeking refuge inside a nondescript gas station, Jake and Layla tried to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. The air was heavy with tension as they sipped on the subpar coffee available at the establishment, the bitter liquid providing a stark contrast to the bitter circumstances surrounding them. 

Despite the apparent calmness that now enveloped the space they were in, both Layla and Jake knew that danger still lurked just beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary. Each sip of coffee served as a bitter reminder of the harrowing events that had transpired, emphasizing the need for them to remain vigilant and stay on guard. 

Jake's frantic pacing came to a halt as he voiced his inner turmoil, feeling the weight of responsibility for Y/N's safety pressing down on him. "What do we do?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. The thought of leaving Y/N alone in an unknown place gnawed at his conscience, clouding his mind with worry.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jake's nerves became apparent through his restless rambling, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Layla, recognizing the unease plaguing Jake, reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch, warm and reassuring, offered a sense of solace amidst the chaos that swirled around them.

“We can't just leave Y/N behind. How are we going to make it back?” Jake's words revealed the depth of his concern, his eyes darting around in search of a solution to their predicament. The uncertainty of their situation loomed large, casting a shadow over their plans and testing their resolve.

Layla's soothing response broke through the fog of doubt that clouded Jake's mind, her voice calm and steady as she assured him, “We'll find a way back, and I'm certain that Y/N is capable enough to handle whatever comes her way. She's a strong, capable young woman, and we have to trust in her strength."

Jake, feeling a surge of gratitude for Layla's unwavering support, let her words wash over him, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. The weight of responsibility began to lift slightly from his shoulders as he absorbed her calm reassurances, a glimmer of optimism shining through the darkness of doubt.

“I know. you're.. right,” Jake acknowledged, his voice softer now, tinged with a sense of relief. Running a hand wearily down his face, he exhaled heavily, a semblance of peace settling upon him. In Layla's presence, he found a sense of clarity and comfort, her unwavering belief in their ability to overcome obstacles serving as a guiding light in their journey back to safety.

Layla let out a gentle sigh, her brows furrowed with genuine concern as she inquired, "And how about the others? Are they doing alright?" Her voice held a note of apprehension, betraying her worry for the well-being of their companions.

Jake gave a slight nod, his expression grave yet reassuring. "They seem to have settled down for now. It might be best if they stay put for a while," he remarked, his hand mimicking a tear sliding down his cheek as he referenced Steven without directly naming him. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, palpable in his somber demeanor.

In response, Layla let out a soft chuckle, her laughter mingling with a hint of fond exasperation. "Don't be too hard on him," she chided gently, her words laced with empathy. 

"It's perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed and show emotion in times like these-“ Her gaze softened as she defended Steven, a touch of understanding in her voice that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature towards their friend's vulnerability.

"He cries at movies," Jake cuts her off with a chuckle, his eyes glistening as he recalls the emotional scenes that always tug at his heartstrings.

"So do I," Layla replies, her voice warm and understanding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She mirrors Jake's gestures, placing her hands on her hips in solidarity.

Jake, ever the skeptic, rolls his eyes at Layla's response, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dismisses her comments. Their banter is light-hearted and filled with shared moments of teasing and laughter.

"We’ll be okay," she assures him with a gentle smile, her expression filled with a comforting warmth that enveloped them both. Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, sending a silent reassurance to Jake. It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that eased the tension in the air.

Jake, catching her gaze, felt a sense of calm wash over him. He recognized the unspoken promise in her eyes, a promise of unwavering support and solidarity. Somehow, her simple words held a profound significance, grounding him amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

With a subtle nod, Jake acknowledged her words, his own silent agreement reflecting in his eyes. It was a mutual understanding that transcended spoken language, a shared belief in their ability to weather whatever challenges lay ahead.

In that fleeting moment of connection, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the unspoken bond between them. It was a poignant reminder of the power of human connection, of the comfort that can be found in a shared smile and a knowing look.

And as they faced the unknown future together, they held onto that shared assurance, a simple yet profound declaration that echoed in their hearts: "We’ll be okay."

~~~

A/N - OOPS CLIFFHANGER!!!!! next part out hopefully by NOVEMBER 25th!!! i love you all so much, i cant wait to see feedback on the new writing style and about the story :)

~~~

taglist -

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes @thursdaywritings @izzzzy-the-amazing @angrykitsune01 @kult6 @deadthings-pdf @0scars1saac @jones89 @idontknowicomefromtwitter @yeetskeeter @romanoffsurvives52

[drinkingwithkhonshu]

thinking about jake lockley in an apron and briefs kneading bread with flour on his nose and all over his arms, the muscles bunching and flexing as his fingers curl the dough into a smooth ball to rest before he begins to braid it into a masterpiece

thinking about marc spector, dressed in dark, tight clothes without a speck of food on him, chopping vegetables and meat for dinner, so particular about keeping the knives and boards separate, adding it all to the pot and propping the spice cabinet open to season it all and bringing it up to heat and filling the flat with mouthwatering, savory aroma

thinking about steven grant with his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he trails his blunt fingertip down the page in the recipe book propped open on the counter, powdered sugar sprinkled in his dark curls as he finds his place to follow the next step in the recipe

thinking about you orbiting all of them as they work, helping where you can while fixing your own side dishes, letting your hands brush against their sides and wrists and back as you slip behind and around them, littering kisses and murmuring lovings

just…the moon boys being domestic in the kitchen🥺I think food is my love language

[aemondloverr]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐮𝐩

For now, there will be a lot of wips because I don’t have much time to write atm :(

⏱️=𝐈𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

✏️= 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 - [workplace romance, smut]

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧/𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜/𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 - [Marc, unhelathy relationship, drinking, angst]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 - [Steven, break ups, comfort, smut]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰/𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧? ⏱️✏️

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 - 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 (𝐨𝐧-𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠)

-[Old friends to lovers, Angst, abandonment, eventual smut]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 - 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 - 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 - 𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓 - 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭⏱️✏️

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧!!

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧!!

𝐉𝐉𝐊

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧!!

[deadqueerboys]

Marc: There's only one rule. Don't..

M/n: What? Don't kill anybody? I know.

Marc: No, don't you ever interrupt Steven. You'll regret this.

[madlittlecriminal]

Gimme ☾ Marc Spector × GN!Reader

Request: no, but they are open

Warnings: reader is on their period, mentions of cramps, a bit self-indulgent, mentions of Steven, short

im on my period & need cuddles, so this fic was born

I USED GN BECAUSE I KNOW NOT EVERYONE WHO HAS PERIODS DEFINES WITH SHE/HER PRONOUNS!

You arched your back off the bed as a cramp hit you out of nowhere. It was sharp, but quick, but it made you groan, causing your boyfriend to look back at you as you lie in Steven’s bed.

“You okay, baby?” He asks, putting his used napkin on the counter.

“No. I’ve been cramping all day.” You grumble as you slowly felt the pain go away.

“When did they start?” He walks closer to you with concern on his face, you’d almost think it was Steven.

“I got it last night, but you were asleep.”

“You could’ve woken me up.” He kisses the top of your head. “Do you want me to run and get you chocolate? A tea? Hot chocolate? Painkillers?”

You shake your head. “I already ate a bar of chocolate and I don’t want you to get tea. You know how Steven gets with his tea being unorganized.”

Marc chuckles.

“I have my reasons!” Steven protests from the back of Marc’s mind.

“Then, c’mere.” He says softly before pulling you into his arms.

“What are you-” you start before he cuts you off, pressing his pointer finger on your lips gently.

You blink at him in confusion, causing him to chuckle. “Just give me your pain, baby.”

You snort. “Marc, are you sure you’ll handle it?”

He shrugs. “Don’t know and don’t care. As long as you feel better.”

You sigh before nuzzling into him. “Fine.”

“Good.” He grins and holds you close. “Seeing you in pain sucks. I’ll set a bath for you when you’re ready, but I’ll be your heating pad for now, okay? If you need to use the bathroom, let me know.”

You smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and kisses you shoulder. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”