#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!

[sortofanobsession]

Of Hunters, Gods, and Hooded Vigilantes (Moon Knight/TVA Hunter Reader)

Author's Note: I have been sitting on this one since (and a few other loki ri) since Loki ended. @selfryed suggested I post it . Hopefully it doesn't disappoint. I know not everyone likes Reader Inserts. But you all know how much I love Moon Knight crossovers. I'll write those boys into anything. Suggest away if you wish. Unbeta'd and Posted on mobile so please forgive any errors.

Sylvie, B-15, Casey, and OB pop up but no Loki or Mobius in this one. Sorry guys. Random letter and number combos for non important hunters.

Content warning: canon typical violence, some swearing, mentions of death, crying,

You track the rogue variant that had been messing with time, not quite as dangerous as He Who Remains. But somehow this guy had an artifact that he couldn't be allowed to keep. B-15 had sent a team that consisted of you and two other hunters.

It turns into more of a scuffle than expected. Hunter L-24 was calling for backup as you gave chase. You hated the fact you weren't in your actual armor. You had been trying to blend in. But you regret that now with the cut on your temple, dangerously close to your eye, and probably bruised rib. It hurt but that's the job. And you had the guy in the ropes until… until you didn't. Time was iffy with what this guy had taken and one second you were running through a side road through the highly populated area, but thankfully sparsely-filled street in what you knew of consisted of public housing. Next, you are cut off from your team in an alley. A manic laugh has you turn on your heels. You had really hoped you wouldn't have to use the pruning stick. This was supposed to be easier. Your hands move as if on their own with practiced movement of charging the weapon.

“Listen, buddy,” you said with false confidence to hide your unease. “We tried doing this the nice way, but you’ve forced my hand.”

“You still think you have the upper hand,” the man laughed, pulling a pistol. Oh that was not good. Those weren't even allowed in this country, you knew that. You hear the click of the weapon. But out of nowhere, the gun is knocked out of his hand by a metallic object. You lunge towards the weapon. And you can't reach it, but you do the next best thing. You pruned it. It disappears. Let the Void Lokis or Alioth have it. You turn towards the scuffle behind you, expecting to see your team. You are surprised to see a masked figure easily taking down the variant. You watch as the figure knocks the guy out.

“Uh…thanks,” you say as the vigilante turns to you as you power down your weapon.

You can feel eyes on you as you go over and pick up the artifact. The masked figure hasn't said a word. Just watching you. The wind kicks up as you place a pair of cuffs on the variant.

You grab your tempad and report in. “Variant secured, B-15,” you say. You look back and the hooded hero is gone. You hear the sound of rushed boot falls as your teammates meet you. You pick up the curved blade that had saved your life. You admire it as a timedoor appears.

None of you noticed Moon Knight in the shadows watching you.

— ◍☾ —

Marc couldn't believe what he was seeing. You were supposed to be dead. Everyone had said you were dead. It had torn him up not knowing what happened to you. What you went through. He always wondered if you suffered. If you had missed him. If he could have saved you if he hadn't left. But he had pushed that pain away and forced himself to move on. But that pain tended to pop up at random moments. He did not expect it to come up now. And it had Marc pulling back and letting Jake take over. But he kept watching. You looked so young. Like he remembered. Like time had barely touched you. How was that possible? Then again, they hadn't really aged much since Khonshu. But you weren't an avatar. He would have known or the bird would have.

And any doubt Marc had was gone when he heard your voice again. It was one he still heard in his dreams. One he couldn't forget. But Jake was wise enough to be cautious. If something seemed impossible and too good to be true, it probably was. So Jake removed them from the situation.

The next time Moon Knight was better prepared. There were too many questions they needed answered. So he started by seeing if you were you in the simplest way first. He called your name. And something in Marc shifted when you reacted by turning towards them. But his heart aches when you look at him and ask if they knew you. Even more so when you said you didn't even know you. And that was enough.

— ◍☾ —

The next time you are in that part of the timeline after you spent a few days working with the others at the TVA. You were in Eastern Europe tracking down a secondary artifact that was created alongside the one you collected in London. The same group of rogues. The same branch. Your ribs still ache from the last time. You were in full gear this time with a larger team. But you weren’t the only one with increased numbers. The variant had friends with the new artifact you were pursuing. Mid-fight again, out of the night drops the figure you now knew was called the Moon Knight. You hadn't read the hero’s file but you knew where he got his powers now. What you hadn't expected was what the caped hero did next.

He called your name. Well, not your name. It was what had been your name before you were taken from the timeline. You knew it was your name, but it didn't really feel like yours. Most everyone just called you by your hunter designation.

“You know me?” You ask because when you had skimmed your file to make an informed decision on staying at the TVA you think you would have noticed if it had mentioned a hooded hero with the power of a literal god. Then you laugh at your own statement. “I don't even really know me.” And before you know it you feel arms around you and with speed you couldn't even comprehend you find yourself somewhere else. You stumble back as you look at your new surroundings.

“What…what did you do that for?” You reach for your weapon.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Moon Knight says, his mask disappearing to reveal a face. One that seems oddly familiar, but you didn't know for sure.

“Then why did you take me from my team?” You glare.

“I just want to talk,” he says.

You say nothing as you reach for where your tempad is secured.

“Don't you remember me?” he says. The whole suit vanishing now. He stands in front of you in jeans and a henley.

“I'm sorry,” you tell him but for some reason there are tears in your eyes. You don't know why but the look on the man's face breaks your heart. “I’m not…I'm not who you are looking for. I'm…I'm just a hunter.”

“But you are, you answered to her name, you're-” He's cut off as a slight woosh and shimmer of a timedoor appears. Moon Knight’s suit is back and he moves between you and the door. You actually find it rather amusing. As if he was protecting you. Too bad he is protecting you from your team. Your friends. Your work.

The timedoor opens and you are stunned to see Sylvie walks out in the god's fully armed glory.

“Sylvie,” you say in shock. Last you knew she had returned to her fast food life.

“B-15 called,” Sylvie states. And that tracks.

“How long?” You ask wondering how long had actually passed at the TVA if Sylvie was called in.

“Long enough,” Sylvie says and you sigh.

“Who the hell are you?” Moon Knight snaps at Sylvie.

“She already said who I was. I'm Sylvie. And you took my friend here against her will and I hoped that avian god of yours would know better. Stupid bird,” she spits as she summons her sword.

“What the-”

“He didn't mean it, Sylvie. He's confused he-”

“You defend this broken puppet?” Sylvie asks in amusement. And Moon Knight clearly didn't like that because you notice a slight shift in his stance and suit as a fight breaks out. And it's an interesting fight.

“Your bird god is weak, his hold is pitiful,” The silver tongued variant snides, “To need a human puppet.”

“Avatar,” Moon Knight corrects.

“Same thing, a human shield to hide behind,” Sylvie grins.

You gasp as Sylvie gets close enough to put a hand against Moon Knight's chest. And she sees it.

You hear a deep growl and Sylvie is shoved back. “Stay the fuck out of my head!” Moon Knight snaps.

You expect Sylvie to return to the fight but instead she appears next to you.

“Now, now, lover boy, no one is going to hurt anyone.”

“Speak for yourself,” he hisses.

“Your anger is misplaced, puppet,” she says before looking at you. “He does know you, knew you, the timeline you.”

“What?” You look between the female god and the hero. You see the masked hero’s shoulders go tense.

“I can show you,” Sylvie grins.

“Wait, hang on-” Moon Knight says, his mask dropping.

Sylvie takes your lack of a refusal an answer, her hand touches your temple.

You gasp as your mind is flooded with images. A history you didn't remember. It brings tears to your eyes and steals the breath from your lungs.

Moon Knight shouts your name again as you stumble back against the wall.

You’re overwhelmed. You hear shouting and the recognizable sound of Sylvie’s laugh.

“I did you a favor,” the female god of mischief says, her focus back on the unmasked man.

“No one asked you to,” a voice you now recognized as a version of one you knew lifetimes ago. You knew his name.

“Marc,” you don't even realize you say it out loud. You really did know him. His head snaps to look at you as you say it.

“You're welcome,” Sylvie says before she and the timedoor vanish. Marc curses Sylvie as he moves beside you in an instant.

“You're okay,” he says, his eyes full of an emotion you can't pinpoint. “We’ve got you.”

“Marc?” you say again, needing confirmation. Your hand raises but is hesitant to touch.

“Do you remember me now?” he asks, a slightly hopeful look on his face. His gloved hand grips yours.

“I…I do,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he says. “Good.” The suit drops away. His hand squeezes yours and he leads you into a building. An apartment building you realize. You follow him into a studio apartment with a large fish tank drawing your attention. Two goldfish swimming around. You approach it with amusement. You almost forgot that people really do keep pets. Pets aren’t really a thing at the TVA. No time. Not really.

You hear Marc moving around behind you, then his voice, hushed as if talking to someone. But when you glance at him through your periphery he doesn't seem to be talking to you.

“Make yourself at home,” he calls over to you, but his accent is different. You look at him with amusement. All your years, centuries, eons maybe, of hunter training has you fully turning to observe him. You had seen him change in flashes as Sylvie showed you what she deemed important. Conversations with mirrors. Changes. Shifts. He was like a variant with variants of his own in his mind. This is what she had meant by him having a broken mind.

“You're not Marc, are you?”

The man looks momentarily stricken. And you wonder if you should have phrased that differently. “Sorry, that sounded accusatory.” You carefully remove your helmet and move to set it on a nearby table. Your weapon too. “Sylvie didn't show me everything, so I…I don't know your name.”

“Steven,” he says without hesitation, now knowing that you aren't too afraid. Knowing that him fronting hadn't ruined things.

“Okay,” you nod. You activate your tempad and send a message to B-15 that you were okay and that if they needed you to just let you know. You contemplated leaving it with your weapon and helmet but you were still unsure what to expect. So you kept it secured in its spot.

“What do you remember?” Steven asks.

“Bits and pieces,” you admit. “But honestly, it's more like watching an old movie with some of it. It doesn't feel real.”

“I know the feeling,” his voice is kind and there is a sympathetic look on his face.

“I'm sure you do,” you nod.

“You're not afraid?” He asks.

“I mean, I have spent an unknown number of years, maybe millennia, lifetimes, as a hunter. No name, just a letter and a number. Reporting to superiors that worked for a lie. Made to believe I was always like this.” You say. “It's more jarring than anything to have real memories again. To think I had childhood. A real life.”

You sense a shift and his old, more familiar accent is back.

“What happened to you?” He asks.

“It's a very long story,” you say. “What's the last thing you remember of me?”

“While I was gone. You vanished, they said you ran away, but that was bullshit. You would have told me. Left a letter. Something. Then I come back to missing persons posters all over the city. But it's Chicago. No one was confident they'd find you. I couldn't find you. They wrote you off as dead when no traces of you were found anywhere. It was like there was nothing to find.”

“They wouldn't have, still won't,” you say sadly.

“What?” He frowns. “The hell does that mean?”

“It means I read my file, well, skimmed it. My nexus event was before that point. But the sacred timeline me. The me you knew, I'm sorry Marc but she’s gone.”

“But you're right here,” he states.

“Like I told you, I'm not actually her. I'm…from a different point in time. Before you left. Before…”

“What do you mean a different point in time? How is that possible?”

“Because the people I work for, the place I was, it's like a city outside of time.”

“How can anything exist outside of time?”

“How can a man fly and survive death?” You ask. “The details are complicated and honestly, I understand it less now than I thought I did before. We exist to protect time from those who tamper with it.”

“So you can time travel?” He asks.

“Yes, but,” you know you need to draw the line in the sand now. “But whatever you are thinking, please don't.” And he studies you. You look so tired. And sad. Very sad.

“It's not as easy as you would think. Changing time has horrible consequences. The things I've done. The people I sent to that monster. I thought what I was doing was right. That I was protecting the timeline. Preventing something terrible. Turns out. We were the terrible ones. All those branches. All those people. Feed to Alioth.” You were crying now. It was the first time you ever let yourself think about the all devouring monster you had sent so many to face.

“Oh darling,” you hear the British accent back. “You didn't know. We’ve all done things we regret. Especially us,” he glances at the reflextion of Marc. “You didn't know what you were doing, you said so-”

“You don't get it,” you tell him. You dug out the engraved token and placed it on the table. A coin, a momento Dox had given you once as a reward after a partially difficult mission. It looked like a souvenir coin. Embossed edges. You ran your fingers over the seal and motto.

“For all time. Always,” you repeat the motto you had molded your life to follow. The atrocities you helped orchestrate. “Anything any of you have done in your life is a fraction of what I was part of. I shouldn't be here. I don’t deserve to have this.” You grab your weapon and open a timedoor, you rush though. The door closes behind you.

Steven walks over and picks up the helmet you left behind and the coin you had placed on the table. Time Variance Authority. He looked at the others in their reflections. They all agree. They were determined to find out everything they can about time, especially time travel.

— ◍☾ —

Marc was angry. That woman just showed up, literally out of nowhere, and then nearly ruined everything. First she fights them. Then she gets in their mind, and Jake had violently objected to that. Having Khonshu in their head was bad enough. And it was already crowded with three of them in there already. But the real line was crossed when the woman that you considered a friend showed you the painful history you guys had. You had been so mad at him for leaving. Your tears were like ice picks in their heart. And he just got more angry with himself as you broke down over what you had been through. Everything he couldn't save you from. He didn't know what a nexus was but if it was anything like the turning point in their life, namely slowly dying in the desert until Khonshu stepped in, it couldn’t have been pleasant. So Steven takes over to let Marc process while someone tries to help you. The British alter had tried to comfort you but it hadn't worked. You explain a bit more and then like a switch flips, you panic. And you leave. Marc pulls further away to brood. They can't let this be the end.

— ◍☾ —

Time passes and your heart hurts less but you cannot forget them. You are helping look through pages of readings you were still not the best at analyzing. You were a hunter, not an analyst. But with fewer people now that many had left to live in the timeline, you had offered to help. To stay busy. You looked up from the file as Casey hurried towards you.

“We have a problem,” he says.

“Let me grab my gear,” you say.

“No need, no time anyway,” he says as he opens a timedoor. You follow him into the main monitoring bay. And the monitor is tracking a branch growing dangerously fast.

“I thought we didn't prune branches anymore,” you say.

“This isn't your normal branch,” OB says.

“Then I should get my gear, where's the team,” you look at B-15.

“You’ll be fine,” OB says as he opens a timedoor. You make sure your tempad is in its place. “Hold on, a solo mission but i-”

“Only you can handle this one,” OB says and guides you to the door. “You'll do great.” A gentle push and you are through the door. There is a large open tunnel before you.

“Oh, Loki, what did I get into this time,” you mutter looking up at the sky. “You'd probably enjoy this mess.” A woman walks towards you in the tunnel. You had seen pictures of her when you had been at Marc’s.

“I'm Lilah, come with me,” she says. You look at her outfit.

“You’re an avatar, right?”

“I am, and a friend of Marc and Steven,” she says.

“Are they okay?” You ask.

“Why don't you see for yourself.”

You follow her until you are in a giant temple. Statues and hieroglyphics surround you. You see Marc in front of a number of people on a dais.

Your footsteps are louder than you would want them as all attention turns to you.

Marc's eyes go wide for a moment and he calls your name. But before you can answer him. You are greeted by name by the woman in the middle.

She introduced herself as the goddess Isis. And you do your best to bury your nerves and act appropriately. You lower your gaze out of respect.

“At least this one knows respect,” a man says. He is scolded by another.

You are made to kneel beside Marc.

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“You did this? You made the branch?” You whisper. You can't believe it.

“You must be curious why you are here,” Isis states. You lower your head again and stare at the floor. She seemed to be expecting an answer.

“I…was sent to the timeline by my superiors, they said that I was the only one.”

“Your companions are not wrong, but it was more we believed it was only fair you had a say in your fate.”

“My fate, your grace?” You cringed. The only god you knew was Loki, and he hasn't made you act in servitude.

The goddess hums in amusement. “Spector here cares very dearly for you it would seem. Even willing to travel forbidden planes to find you again.” You look over at Marc but he is starting a hole in the floor.

“Why?” you ask him.

“You left, and we didn't want to lose you again,” he admits.

“Osiris, Thoth and Horus are not pleased with your meddling, Spector,” the goddess says. “Be glad it is me before you and not my beloved.” She grins. “The passage of time is not yours to hold, Marc Spector, Khonshu knows better.”

“He wanted no part of it,” Marc admitted.

“The only reason you are not facing harsher penalties for your actions is because you have honestly done worse. And your heart was in the right place. Love makes fools of most mortals.” The goddess grins. “But you step outside your station, Marc Spector, once more and your punishment will not be so lenient.”

She dismissed everyone.

You turn to find Lilah is gone.

“I'm sorry,” the recognizable voice of Steven says. “I am so sorry. I didn't know they would care so much. It wasn't like we moved the stars again. Not that noticeable.”

You turn to look at him. “I told you guys that messing with time is dangerous. Then what do you do, you go and mess with time. Have you lost your mind?!”

“Well, by typical diagnostic specifications, technically we did a long time ago, when I came into existence,” Steven notes.

“Steven!” You shout. “You can't just change reality because you missed me. That’s not-”

His expression changes. His tone and accent too. “And you can? Do you have any idea what it was like to have you show up years after being told you were dead and then you just leave. Gone to somewhere we couldn’t follow. And you thought we would just let you go? A heart can only break so many times. We failed last time. We weren't going to fail again, not when we could actually-”

You silence him with a kiss.

“Take me home,” you tell him when you separate for air. They don't have to be told twice.

— ◍☾ —

Marc hadn't thought he could have happiness like this again. Even after he had found you again. The three of them had agreed that having you in their life was important, but he couldn't have anticipated having you literally in their bed.

You snuggle closer and bury your face in the warmth of his neck. Whining at being woken. So abruptly. You feel the laugh from the body beneath you as he turns off the alarm.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” Marc says.

You grumble incoherently as you try to bury yourself in his warmth.

“You keep squirming like that, sweetheart and we are going to have a problem.” You giggle. “I'm serious, baby.” He moves the hair off your face so he can see you. “Donna will kill Steven if he's late again.”

You weigh your options. You shift your weight again earning a groan from Marc. “I could just use a timedoor and get him there on time.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” Jake says as he takes over. “But you always say we shouldn't mess with time.”

You groan but don't stop him as he gets out of bed. You settle for stealing his pillow.

You yelp at the playful swat to your sheet covered behind. His hand rubs the now stinging skin through the sheet as Jake laughs. You glare at him but the face that greets you is one far too soft to be Jake Lockley.

“We’ll make it up to you, darling,” Steven says as he leans in and kisses your forehead. You pull him in for a proper kiss.

“Do we have time for pancakes?” You ask against his lips. And how could he say no to that?

You let him go and he looks at you like you hung the moon. Extra funny considering the lunar deity they serve. “We can make time for pancakes,” he assures you.

“You still want to watch that movie tonight?” Steven asks from the kitchen as you get dressed. You didn't have much other than your uniform so you had really just stolen a shirt that was far too big on you, his clean boxers, and a pair of socks so your feet wouldn't get cold on the hard floors.

You laugh as you remember you had stumbled upon one of Brad Wolfe’s schlocky films on a streaming service.

“Gods yes,” you laugh again. “X-5 was such a prick. Mobius said I have to watch them. They are hilarious, and they aren't supposed to be.”

“Are they scary?” Steven asks and you know in some reflection Marc or Jake is probably rolling their eyes, or laughing. You couldn't be sure.

“I'm sure Jakey will take over if it's too scary,” you wrap your arms around him as he cooks. He scoffs slightly but grins as you kiss his shoulder. “We've both fought worse than whatever monster Brad deals with in this one.” You grin. “Besides, we could take ‘em.”

“I'm sure we could, love,” Steven grins.

[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!)

[pygmi-cygni]

couldn't resist - marc spector

cw: failed aftercare/pos, overstim intensely, a bit of begging, desperate moon boys, Bodily Fluid. cnc, both are in a consenting relationship

not...kinktober but definitely something.

You shifted, whining uncomfortably as Marc shifted your knees up to your chest. The muscles in your legs were Useless after Steven had pounded you into a pulp. Reduced to a melted mess, you spread limply over the soaked mattress. Steven had smothered you in kisses for a bit until you were both exhausted. Marc had fronted immediately after, patiently wetting a rag and swiping gently around your folds.

"Lay still," he murmured, stroking your knee comfortingly. "I don't wanna hurt you."

You tried to stop trembling, waves of aftershocks sending occasional shockwaves through your limbs. The torn edges of your focus slowly restitched themselves as the soothing warmth brushed over your raw skin. The rag was gone, and Marc had begun gently rubbing in lotion.

Deliriously, you curled into yourself. A nap sounded wonderful. He grunted and righted you, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Almost done, honey, just wait."

You huffed a petulant sigh. Your pussy ached for a break, even though Marc was being very gentle. Your pink folds were puffy and glistening, leftover arousal still leaking steadily. Steven had sucked you dry but the stimulation was a little too much. Marc hummed quietly, fingers trailing absentmindedly through the mess.

"M-Marc," you hissed, twitching away. He chuckled and the feeling disappeared.

"Sorry, got distracted," he said sheepishly. Carefully, he lowered your legs to the downy blanket. The dirty ones were hastily shoved to the unused side of the bed. Steven fucked you closest to the wall so he'd have something to brace against. How considerate - he'd left half of the bed free from cum.

Your eyelids were heavy while you watched Marc dispose of the rag and lotion. He returned shirtless and dressed for bed. You scrunched up tighter, muscles aching pleasantly.

"Spread your legs, baby, it'll feel better. You're adding to the pressure." Marc gripped your thighs and tugged you down, gently opening you up to the cool night air. You tensed, preparing for another round.

All done, no more teasing. After a moment, you relaxed, realizing he wanted you to calm down. Marc leaned against the bedframe, eyes trained on your blushing, fucked out form.

"You're so pretty," he cooed, a finger tracing your ankle. You smiled blearily and patted the mattress.

"Sleep w' me," you mumbled, tongue thick and throat raw. Marc didn't respond, mouth open slightly as he stared at your ruined cunt. His hand absently began stroking the bedpost, eyes dark and soulful. You whined louder.

"Marc."

His lusty gaze snapped to your face, something warm and hidden glowing inside.

"I love you," he murmured, "you know that?"

Confused, you nodded, still unsure why he hadn't joined you. Marc crawled over the bedframe and knelt over your legs, hands rubbing gently on your waist.

"Sorry, baby," he whispered in your ear, lips brushing your earlobe. Frowning, you tilted to look at him.

"Wha-"

He shucked his shorts and with a massive groan sheathed himself in your warm, abused core. You arched and hollered, nerves reigniting at the sudden sensation. Marc moaned and shuddered, hips pumping slowly as your folds sucked him in.

"I know, I know," he groaned, warm palms groping at your love-bitten breasts. The sticky heat of your pussy gripped him wonderfully, all soft and wet from Steven's round earlier. The whimpers and sobs rolling out of you were music to his ears as he fucked long and hard.

"C-couldn't resist," he hissed, biting back another moan, "you j-just ah looked so p-prettygodfuckuhh," the sudden pulse of your gummy walls made him seize up, shuddering to grip onto the headboard. Marc howled and ground harder, hips jutting into yours.

It was hot, raw pleasure inside. Your body and mind were warring - one drank in the pleasure and the other actively shunned it, twitching and moving away. Marc's strong hands kneaded into your pillowy thighs and you moaned loudly, pulsing around his length.

The hazy grip of pleasure was choking any logic from Marc's mind. He knew you needed rest; Steven had just fucked your brains out for two hours. But god when you stared at him with those big doe eyes and a positively dripping cunt...

He couldn't resist.

A painfully fast climax had you in a headlock, sending searing heat downwards. Waves of hot sticky slick poured out, ruining the fine job Marc had done of cleaning you up. The added heat made him shudder and groan, churning that syrupy mess inside. He wanted to nestle inside as far as he could go, drowning in pleasure and your musky heat. It was an addiction. He needed to feel every velvety smooth stroke inside.

"God, why, ugh, why right n-now?" you moaned, writhing under Marc's strong grip. He didn't respond, laser focused on the heavenly drag of your flesh against his. His thighs were shaking with the force of his pleasure.

"Jus' a little more," he grunted, ravenously devouring your plush lips. The honey-sweetness of your mouth coupled with the succulent feel of your silky cunt was a lethal combination. He'd have to sprint to last long enough.

Even in your state, Marc knew you could take it. Steven was gentle with you even at his worst. Whatever he'd done to you earlier wasn't close to your limit.

So he pounded harder, rocking the mattress with the pistoning of his hips. Each thrust made a loud, wet sound against your raw pussy. The bounce of your tits demanded attention, which he happily provided. The added stimulation sent you spiraling.

You could feel your insides molding around him, gasping deep when he stroked under your sternum. The thick, raw energy that rolled off of your boyfriend had you drooling, slumping into his grip. Marc took the hint and flipped you flat on your back.

The mattress squeaked in protest to his pace, your hips punching into the soft fabric. Any hopes of salvaging the sheets were....not a priority.

Marc whimpered and ground up higher, trying to fuse himself to you. The inebriating heat of your cunt was making him stupid, humping and moaning like a dog. You were divine like this, flushed and utterly ruined underneath him. The stiff peak of your clit flared and pulsed with need.

He dragged a calloused thumb over your pearl, sending another crippling wave of pleasure up your spine. You flexed and gushed around his length, stirring the magma in his stomach. Time was all mushy and Marc struggled to slow himself.

Pace yourself, slow down, he remembered. But it was too much, too hot, too wet and tight and-

"Oh h-hell," he choked, cock pulsing and blushing red as he staved off his climax. He knew you were close, and the thought of finishing together was too good to pass up.

"Come on," he urged, stroking your clit and sucking on your jaw, "you can do it, baby, come on-"

Limbs locking tight with pleasure, you sailed over the hurdle, soaking his lap with your slick. Marc rutted and throbbed into you, muffling his moans in your neck. His aborted thrusts pushed his spend back inside, gushing and sticking obscenely on your thighs.

"Oh, sweet thing made a mess, huh?" his voice teased as you shuddered and hiccupped. Your response was severed by the dragging sensation of him drawing backwards. You wailed, your overstimulated folds weeping his seed and yours. The creamy slick glistened on your red, aching flesh.

Icing on a cake, Marc thought blissfully, mindlessly rolling his hips into a pillow. You saw his slowly hardening length and dragged in a slow breath. A fat, wet tear bubbled down your cheek as you met his dark gaze.

"B-but-"

"M sorry," he breathed, reaching for you, "it's so hard to stop..."

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m tags! comment to join!

[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]

Hey bear I have a request if you don’t mind but how about Steven with a gamer bf. So bf has been playing a lot and Steven wants some attention which leads to Steven trying to talk dirty into his ears. Which leads to him grinding on his legs to still gets his attention which then leads to him riding riding reader and overstimulating himself in the process.-🐻‍❄️(50%)

STEVEN GRANT X GAMER MALE READER

Heyy, And no I don’t mind at all thank you for requesting!! I missed writing for Steven so I’m back to my roots.

⚠️Warnings!! PRETTY LONG Overstimulation, riding, jerking off, blowjob, multiple orgasms, needy Steven, dirty talk, making a mess, detailed sex. And etc.⚠️

Steven hated the constant loop of his distracted boyfriend. He didn’t know if he was either being dramatic or clingy. Y/n always in the corner of the room at his gaming set up playing video games with his friends.

Steven could even wake up from a nap and his boyfriend would still be playing. The only time Y/n wasn’t playing was when he was at work or on the phone with the said friends.

The Brit craved for Y/n’s touch and attention again. Every time Steven made a attempt to grab Y/n’a attention it was the same. “After I finish this match,” or “In ten more minutes.” It was excuse after excuse and Steven was so tired of it.

Today Steven came back from work it was a real hard day at the museum and he wanted nothing more then just to be in his boyfriend’s arms.

He came through the apartment just about to announce himself but once he reached the bed, he only saw Y/n sitting in his gaming chair with his headphone mic on playing some popular game as he talked and laughed with them. Steven really hated seeming clingy, but he hated those friends. They would all playfully flirt with one another and make dirty jokes. Steven even saw once Y/n using his character to kiss his friend’s own character.

Steven walked over to Y/n and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “Y/n…hey i-I’m home.” Y/n looked at Steven and smiled before softly pressing his lips to Steven’s cheek as an small greeting. But that small bit of affection wasn’t enough for Steven. He craved and desired more.

Steven walked over to Y/n’s desk and stood behind him, Y/n, who was focused intently on his computer. They had been a couple for a few months now and Steven loved Y/n with all of his heart, but sometimes, he felt like he came in second place to those Y/n’s online friends and video games. "Hey honey," he spoke softly, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s neck. Y/n hummed a bit in acknowledgment, but his eyes were glued to the monitor.

“But it was thinking we could have a little cuddle…?” Steven mumbled not letting go of Y/n’s sleeve. Y/n just ignored Steven and went back to playing the game. Steven slightly huffed at his attempt being ignored so bluntly. 

Steven hugged him wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Steven held Y/n tightly laying his head against him wanting to get his boyfriend’s.

After an moment of Steven trying to get Y/n’s attention Steven decided to step it up a notch. He was determined to get his boyfriend’s attention.

Steven moved Y/n’s headset and moved close to his ear. “Y/n…Y/n darling please…I miss you…I’ve been so lonely.” Steven whispered in his ear. Y/n merely glanced at him before looking back towards his computer. Steven had to suppress himself from letting out a pout. 

“Y/n please…I need you so bad. I want your eyes on me.” Steven said in another whisper, Steven pressed himself against Y/n wanting to get closer and closer.

 Steven could tell this was affecting Y/n. The way Y/n was slowly moving his mice around trying to listen to Steven’s words as he also tried to listen to his friends words that was in his other ear.

“Don’t tell me you choosing them over me…they don’t give you any pleasure like I do, I’m the one who’s in your bed every night not them…you love me don’t you?

Steven whisperd kissing and breathing into Y/n’s ear as he slowly began to move his crotch against Y/n’s own. Steven use one of his hands to hold Y/n’s cheek holding him close.

“I want you…I need you….I missed being in your arms so much.” Steven said as he rubbed his crotch against. Steven  whispered continuing to grind against Y/n legs.

While grinding himself onto Y/n, Steven hand traveled from Y/n’s shoulders down to Y/n’s sweats, he moved his hand inside and into Y/n’s boxers touching and stroking Y/n’s cock. Y/n let out a soft gasp as he kept his eyes on the computer. The Brit stared into Y/n’s eyes wanting to make eye contact with his boyfriend. Steven pulled the sweats and boxers down so Y/n’s cock was on full display. 

Steven leaned down and began to lick and suck onto Y/n’s cock. He swirled his tongue around licked the base until Y/n’s hard cock was wet.

Steven put one hand onto the base of Y/n’s cock as he gave a long lick onto the cock licking and kissing under the cock striding his tongue to the balls all the way to the tip. He moved his tongue around the silt of the cock. He gave teasing and affectionate licks to both sides of his cock making sure no place is untouched before finally wrapping his lips around it.

Since Steven didn’t want to start off to fast he sucked around the tip and used his hand to jerk off the rest of Y/n’s cock that he didn’t have his lips around. He pushed the cock around his cheeks and swirled it around his tongue as he looked up at Y/n.

Steven pulled his mouth away and used his hand to jerk off the now wet cock as he pulled down his own pants and boxers. As Y/n finally looked away from the screen he brought his fingers to Steven’s mouth carefully pushing them inside to get them all wet and soaked so he could prep his boyfriend. Steven licked and sucked around Y/n’s fingers coating the and making the wet.

Once Y/n decided it’s enough he pulled his fingers away and reached down in between Steven’s legs until he was met with his hole and slowly pushing one finger inside stretching out his boyfriends hole. Steven’s breath hitched as he moaned softly holding Y/n’s shoulders. Y/n moved and entered another finger fingering his boyfriend’s hole. Steven was bent over Y/n’s legs as he was getting fingered.

Steven was letting out heavy and cracky moans, with Y/n using his free hand to be in his computer and talking to his friends.

Steven lost track of time, the only thing he was making attention to was Y/n and the pleasure his boyfriend was causing him. 

After once Steven was prepared enough Y/n pulled his fingers out, Steven quickly crawled into Y/n’s lap and aligned himself to Y/n’s tip.

Steven lowered himself down on the cock himself. Steven started out slow breathing heavy and letting out a few moans under his breath as he went down on his cock. Y/n held his hips to keep him steady. With a deep breath Steven wanted to get it out the way and pushed himself down onto Y/n’s full cock at once causing him to let out a loud moan.

Y/n covered Steven’s mouth quickly praying quietly that his friends didn’t hear. “Sorry about that guys, I was watching a video on my phone.” Y/n said into his mic trying to laugh it off as Steven bounced on his cock.

Once Steven got used to it he raised his hips up before pushing himself back down. He did it in a slow motion, his ass jiggled with every moment. Steven was breathing heavy as he began to pick up his movements.

Steven bounced up and down onto Y/n’s cock holding onto Y/n’s desk as support as he rode it. Lince started to mumble under his breath probably about how thick and big Y/n’s size was.

Y/n sat back and held Steven’s hips making sure he won’t fall back. His cock was throbbing with each movement. Steven’s own cock was moving up and down as well as he rode him. Steven’s cock was leaking precum as he rode Y/n’s cock like some bunny in heat.

Steven used one of his hand’s and jerked himself off as he began to moan louder as Y/n’s cock began to hit and brush against his prostate. Y/n muted himself on his computer as he held Steven’s waist pushing Steven up and down.

Steven continued to bounce and ride on his cock faster and faster as if Y/n’s tip was glued to Y/n’s prostate. Lince felt like he was on cloud nine has he rode his cock jerking and stroking himself faster and faster as he felt his climax nearing. He loved how he felt so full and stuff with Y/n’s cock. Both men were in too much bliss and pleasure to not be focused on what’s going on whatever that was going outside of the room. 

With a few more bounces Y/n watched his boyfriend shoot his long white streaks of cum onto his desk and laptop. Y/n reached his hand out and covered Steven’s mouth helping him stay quiet.

Y/n pulled out and softly guided Steven off his cock and off his lap making Steven stand up. Steven’s mind was still cloudy from pleasure but Y/n just pushed Steven against the desk and thrusted his full cock back inside. Steven was moaning as his cock was dripping cum.

Holding Steven’s hips Y/n thrusted fast and deep inside his boyfriend. Steven gripped back held the desk as he was getting pounded into.

With Y/n’s cock pushing and hitting his prostate Steven came for 2nd time, Steven shot his load again on Y/n’s keyboard and some landing onto the computer. After a few more thrust and deep grunts and groans Y/n cums deep inside Steven’s walls. Y/n kept thrusting to burry his deep seed inside of Steven.

Steven leaned back into Y/n breathing heavy and moaning, Y/n reached down and began to jerk Steven’s cock overstimulating him more.

“Since you wanted my attention so badly here you go…let’s see how many times can you cum until you can’t no more.”

THE END

[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.

[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

[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 :)

~~~

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[tom-whore-dleston]

for the event how about snooze with steven grant <3333 they just fit so perfectly together !!

Snooze

Pairing: Steven Grant x f. reader

Word Count: 1.5k

This fic contains: fluff, neighbors to lovers, insomnia, meet cute scenario, confessions, kissing, corny play on lyrics of Snooze

Summary: You are the main constant that helps combat Steven’s insomnia. This night, things are a little bit different.

Notes: omg Sil you are so right about how Snooze is Steven-coded!! Thank you bb for the request and I hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏽 Thank you to @potatothots for beta reading and sharing your insight 🩷

Spotify Wrapped 2023 challenge | send a request here

Steven glared at the blue squares of his Rubik's Cube. It had been the third time he solved the three dimensional puzzle since the moon illuminated the night sky. The toy tumbled into his lap as Steven’s groggy eyes flickered towards the shimmering sphere that tauntingly gazed back at him. 

The classical record that was meant to aid his sleep came to an end. Steven lost track of how many times he played that record. When his insomnia began many moons ago, the record did wonders for his sleep. Now, it basically is a broken record because of how often he played it at night.

Yet, there was one constant that always helped him fall asleep. And that was you.

You were new to the apartment complex and moved in right next to Steven. The way you both met was one for the books. Your flat mate was running late for work due to lack of sleep from the night before. He rushed out the door, struggling into his coat. Without realizing, his shoelaces dragged carelessly across the floor. Steven, as clumsy as he was, crashed into you carrying a box of clothes, and you both fell to the floor.

The British man’s eyes widened. “Oh my- I am terribly sorry! Are you alright?” His eyes widened even more after one glance upon your beauty.

You sat up chuckling, unaware of his gawking. “No need for apologies. I am perfectly fine.” Then, you noticed the items scattered on the floor.  “Although, I’m not too sure about the pile of clothes.” The man mirrored your movements as you crawled towards an article of clothing.

“Allow me to help you ma’am,” Steven began tossing shirts and sweaters into the box. As you reached for your favorite scarf, a strong hand slightly brushed against yours. You stared into each other's eyes, smiling softly. You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Oh heavens, I am late for work!” He checked the time on his watch and began to panic. “I missed my bus, too!”

“Perhaps I can take you to work?” You helped him to his feet, and your cheeks grew hot as he began to tower over you.

“Oh no, I-“

“It’s okay. I want to.” You paused. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” 

Steven unclenched his jaw and let out a quick laugh. “Thank you ma’am! I cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

“It’s my pleasure…” your voice dropped upon realizing you didn’t know the name of the British man before you.

“Steven. Steven Grant.”

It was a typical late Saturday night when you arrived at your apartment complex. Your watch peeked through your cuffed long sleeve, catching a glimpse of the time. 

3:00. That was a record time for the latest you came home from a shift at the local bar. Your body, especially your legs, yearned to crash into the coziness of your bed and sleep until the sun was at its peak in the sky. As you approached the door to your apartment, you stopped in your tracks after meeting your neighbor’s hazy eyes.

“Steven?”

The gentleman in question half smiled. “Hello, darling.” 

“Rough night?” You interrogated knowingly. Steven nodded with closed eyes.

You fumbled your key into the lock for a moment before opening the door and stepping to the side. “C’mon in. I’ll make us some tea.”

Steven walked into your apartment and headed towards your couch, as he had done many nights before. He wrapped himself in the blanket you knitted yourself as you fixed a pot of tea. The blanket smelled like you, which always brought him a sense of comfort. A kind of comfort he couldn’t find in his own home. In fact, Steven couldn’t remember the last time he felt any sense of security before meeting you.

“You really fancy that blanket, huh?” You giggled, admiring how adorable he looked being swaddled in your own creation. The day you moved in, you decided to knit a blanket to combat your boredom. Once it was finished, you didn’t dare touch it as you were too afraid it would get ruined. The first night you welcomed Steven into your apartment, he was immediately fascinated with the blanket that he cozied onto your couch bundled in the blanket before falling into the best sleep he had in a while.

“I do, indeed. It helped me sleep when I had no other way of falling asleep.” Steven peered down at the wooly fabric, tracing over the patterns as if his next words were hidden between the stitches.

“Well, I’m happy to have helped you in a subliminal way.” The rest of your surroundings blurred as Steven became the focus of your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat as the dim light in your living room accented his structured face and wavy dark locks. Even with the blanket draped over his frame, his plain white t-shirt did little to hide his muscular arms and broad shoulders.

The abrupt screech of the kettle caused you to jolt and you quickly turned off the stove to avoid the sound reaching your other sleeping neighbors. After steeping chamomile bags in two separate cups, you joined Steven on the couch, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. You handed him a mug and he gingerly peeled it from your grip. Your teeth gritted together as his soft fingers brushed against yours. Steven frowned, noticing your shift in demeanor.

“You cold, darling?” He shimmied out of the blanket, letting it fall to his waist.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal-” Suddenly, Steven scooted next to you before throwing the blanket over both of your laps with one hand. It was the smoothest thing you had ever witnessed, you forgot how to breathe in that moment. 

“There we are. It wouldn’t be right of me to hog all of your blanket.” You couldn't help but laugh. Without further thought, you and Steven simultaneously sipped your cups of tea, the hot beverage instantly calming your mind and muscles. Steven hummed happily as the tea warmed his body. Yet, he was still wide awake.

The grandfather clock that stood strong in your living room ticked loudly to fill the silence of the room. It glared dauntingly into your and Steven’s souls as you drank your tea while avoiding each other’s gazes. The pendulum swung from side to side as if waiting for one of you to make a move. As Steven drank the last drop of tea, he was left with no other choice but to break the silence.

“You know something, love?” You suddenly became more interested in Steven as you set the mug on your coffee table. “Ever since I met you, things have changed.”

“I hope it’s a good kind of change.”

Steven peered down, smiling softly. “Yeah, it was. For starters, you have really helped me combat this insomnia. I couldn’t tell you about the last time I had a good night’s sleep.” Your lips curled into a dopey grin, and your skin grew hot. Yet neither the tea nor the blanket contributed to the warm feeling inside you. 

“Then, there is your kindness. No one has been as nice as you have been to me so it feels reassuring to know there’s still good people out there. You are also extremely bold. To move all the way from across the pond is…It’s brave. You’ve done all the things I’m scared to do.” He rambled on and on but one thing reeled in your attention. “To tell you the truth, I’m quite smitten with you, love.” 

“Steven…” You were at a loss for words. Your heart skipped a beat after learning he felt the same way about you. 

“Forgive me if I am too forward, but-”

“No, not at all. In fact, I feel the same way towards you.” Your hands met in the middle of the blanket, bringing you back to the moment your hands first touched outside your doors. This time, the spark between you two was much stronger.

“Can I kiss you, love?” 

“I thought you would never ask.”

Steven laughed before cupping your face with his large hands and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet yet full of passion. It reminded you of a flame so bright you couldn’t help but reach out and touch it because you knew it wouldn’t hurt or scar you. Your lips molded together like a sculptor forming the greatest piece that’ll be admired for centuries to come. Time froze as your lips danced in unison and space ceased to exist around you and between you. 

Losing sleep was the last thing on Steven’s mind. For how could he lose when he was with you? Sleep will eventually find its way back to him. He couldn’t snooze and miss the moment of you and him in each other’s embrace.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Steven Grant Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

[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.”

[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.

[pygmi-cygni]

Placebo - steven grant

yes, i know the gif is not steven fronting but idc.

excuse the rampant excessive horniness in this fic. just kidding, i know you fiends love this.

cw: sensory deprivation, safe sane consensual, pillow humping, communication, not d/s but Steven is taking directions from you, whimpery men, fem reader, vibrator use, m overstim, omniscient pov

Steven rocked gently in his restraints, drinking in the slight stimulation from the silky ties. He'd been lying on the bed alone, despite begging for you to touch him. You refused. 'He needed to adjust,' you'd said with that oh-so-infuriating patience.

It made his skin burn with desire. He didn't need to adjust, he needed you to stroke him and hold him and maybe let him cum, if he was good.

The bedroom was warm and dark. Everything felt soft and floaty - the silky sheets, soft linen blindfold, and the plugs you'd put in his ears. Steven felt like a baby moth, cocooned tight in a little bundle.

"Baby," he whispered, unsure if he was shouting or not, "wh-where..?"

He seized up when he felt the mattress dip, curling up to stop himself from rolling. He was at the whim of his surroundings, utterly defenseless.

Something firm and warm stroked his cheek. He yelped, then crooned sweetly, nuzzling closer. You. The supple firmness of your palm was grounding against his stubbly cheeks. A soft brush of air and a light rumbling sound. You were speaking, but it was muffled. That was okay, your presence still soothed the ache inside.

Too soon your touch was gone. Whining, Steven shuffled up onto his knees, hunting for your delicate smell. He caught whiffs of your shampoo. You'd put on extra perfume so he could sense you.

"Oh, Steven," you cooed, sitting at the end of the bed. It was so tempting to undo the ties and fuck him silly, but it was equally satisfying to watch the show.

A sheen of shimmering sweat glistened on his golden skin. His cheeks were plump and flushed, neck straining for you. His wonderfully thick thighs were flexing against the ankle bonds as he fought for balance. You'd stripped him naked, save for his boxers, which were doing an admirable job of restraining the massive hard-on he was sporting.

You had taken off your panties, rolling your hips gently against the seam of a pillow. The slight shudders of pleasure took the edge off wonderfully. Coupled with the show in front of you - the evening was very satisfying indeed.

For Steven, though...

He canted his hips, mouth slack and lush. His tongue hung heavy in his mouth, the pink flesh glistening wetly. His strong arms were tense against the binds.

"Mmph-mm, need, uhh," he whined, bucking upwards. The tightness of his restraints allowed for minimal hip movement but he did his best.

"Okay, baby, I'm here," you teased, knowing he couldn't hear you. Dragging a finger through your slick center, you sighed and trailed it along his inner thigh. Steven groaned, precum staining his underwear, twisting and writhing towards your hand.

Quickly, you withdrew, collecting another bit of arousal.

He could smell you now. Musky, warm, sweet, like summer peaches. It was overwhelming to his depraved mind. Steven felt a hot pleasure pulse in the base of his cock, sending another wave of blood to his length. God, he was so horny it hurt.

"More," he moaned, "oh please give me more-"

The feeling of your slick fingers tracing the outline of his cock sent him through the roof. A howl ripped past his lips. Steven's jaw clenched around an inhuman moan.

You stuck the pad of your thumb in his mouth, gently massaging his tongue. He quieted immediately, sucking the remaining musk off your hand greedily.

Steven licked and laved, spine shuddering. Your fingers were wet, which meant you'd-

"Oh love, let me do it," he breathed, "oh, let me touch you please I can be s-so good, oh..." your finger disappeared. He moaned again, sitting back on his heels like a scorned puppy.

"Patient," you murmured, hips bucking faster. You needed to get the first climax out of the way, or your mind would be too hazy to finish him off. Biting your lip, you rubbed your clit faster, warmth flooding your cunt. Exhaling in relief, you rocked out the aftershocks on your pillow. The cotton cover was soaked with your cum.

hmmm....

Shuffling off of the bed, you fluffed the pillow and leaned forwards. Steven's skin was radiating heat, sweat pooling over the elastic band of his boxers. You ghosted a kiss over his hip bone, eliciting another groan. Your empty hand stroking his navel, delighting in the wave of goosebumps spreading over his chest.

He whimpered your name, cock throbbing. Carefully, holding your breath, you pulled down his underwear. The cooler air of the room met his overstimulated skin in an icy rush. Another wave of precum drooled from the ruddy tip as Steven stuttered a moan.

God, he felt high. Strung out on pleasure as your hands teased his cock, fluttering and kissing his too-hard length. Steven couldn't see even if the blindfold was off. His eyes crossed from the pleasure, rolling back in his head with another guttural moan. Splintering heat traveled down his spine, exploding down his length.

But it wasn't quite enough. He bucked at the edge of an orgasm, cock bouncing against his taut stomach as his hips jerked. You sat back, amazed, as he humped the air madly, tongue caught between his teeth in focus.

The short impacts of his tip against his skin sent lightning though his veins. He could get off like his, if he tried. He knew you were watching, knew you wanted a show. Steven pushed his chest out, moaning a little louder.

You'd pulled the pillow back under you, drenching it in another wave of warm slick. A small moan left your lips, eyes glued to Steven's writhing form.

"Wan' it," he huffed, bucking into the air, "want it so bad, baby, unnhh, need you so bad..."

Wrenching the soaked pillow from under yourself, you pressed against his hips, forcing him to stop. The hot, heavy pulses of his girth made your mouth water.

Focus.

Steven struggled, waiting tensely for what came next. Slowly, you pulled the soiled pillowcase off of the pillow, bunching the wet silk around his cock and tying it tight.

Pleasurable pain burst inside him. The soft, silkiness of something enveloped his cock in warm heaven. Steven thrust forward powerfully, driving into the cushiony softness. "Th-thank you," he moaned, "oh th-thank you-" your pussy clenched tighter around him, sending him to the moon.

He couldn't touch you, couldn't see you, but that was okay. It reminded him of fisting himself before you'd gotten together, envisioning your tight heat, the way your eyes sparkled in the light, how your mouth would be bent in a moan...

Steven spread his knees wider, driving his hips into the mattress. Strong, huffing breaths echoed in the room, his determined grunting music to your ears. You trailed your hands up his pecs to add to the placebo effect, tweaking his nipples gently.

He howled, curls sticking wetly to his forehead. The tight clench of your cunt felt so good, so right around him. Strings of drool dripped onto his chest. Shivers wracked his back. He was so close, so close he could taste it, could feel the numbing buzz in his head as pleasure spiked up-

"Ah-"

You swiftly removed the cotton wrap, watching the precum and arousal drip onto the mattress. Steven's cock was purple from despair. He screamed, tearing at the restraints.

"Baby please," he howled, hiccupping as a tear slid beneath the blindfold. You reached forward, caressing his face gently.

"It's okay," you murmured, removing the plugs from his ears, "Steven," you said, tapping his cheek.

He keened at your voice, nosing into your shoulder. "B-baby help me hic, it h-hurts so m-much, love," he moaned. You kissed him gently, petting his hair.

"Do you need to stop?"

"N-no no, no stopping," he choked, rutting his length into your thighs. You nodded, kissing his nose.

"I'll let you cum, Steven, you've been good, baby. Lie back."

He let out a happy whimper, shuffling to lay against the pillows behind him. You adjusted the blindfold on his face and replaced the earplugs, stroking his leg all the while.

The short break had helped a bit; his cock was less swollen and leaking. Once his breathing was under control, you stopped stroking him and reached under the bed. Pulling out a slim cardboard box, you removed a black object and scooted closer to him on the bed.

Steven huffed a sigh, feeling the soothing tightness of your cunt once more. The soft, wonderfully wet petals of your core squeezed him perfectly. After a moment of reveling in the feeling, his hips began to move again. Short, measured thrusts. Pace yourself, he thought, faster you cum, faster it's over, yeah?

Your walls fluttered around him. He sighed again, feeling your fingers trail under his heavy balls and stroke his thighs tenderly.

"Feels so good, love, holy fff-fuck," he stuttered, back arching.

Suddenly, a tight, hot sensation erupted beneath his cock. Shockwaves shot through his nervous system. Steven hollered, bucking against the headboard. His feet braced against the bed, trying to steady himself. You'd put something inside him. Something, some-

The heavy vibrations were erasing any kind of structure to his body. Steven collapsed, lower half jolting and shuddering through the strong waves of the vibrator. He moaned weakly, raw heat shredding his bones to dust. It was thick, pulsing, and all consuming. If he thrust forward, he sank into your pussy. If he pulled back, the vibrator stroked against a lethally pleasurable spot deep inside.

"Baby," he moaned in warning, "Baby, baby please oh don't stop, oh okay, ah..."

He felt you steady his shoulders. His hips rutted into the mattress, stroking against his overworked cock in the best way.

"More," he moaned, succumbing to the syrupy pleasure pulsing out of his cock and through his prostate. "More, yes, yes!"

His back arched and he fell against the bed, cum spurting in thick waves. The pleasure peaked sky-high, whiting out his vision and melting his brain to mush.

He couldn't even tell where the stimulation was coming from, all he could feel was a golden heat that enveloped his entire body. That perfect button inside was being hammered by the tiny vibrator, pulsing out more cum than you'd seen him produce. It soaked through the sheet wrapped around his cock, dribbling onto the bed.

Unable to resist, you pulled off the placebo cunt with a wet shlickkk and wrapped your lips around his soft length. He whimpered and twitched, wrestling one hand out of the soaked restraints. Steven shoved your head down, squirming in the heat of your mouth.

You sucked greedily, licking any of the rich spend from his torso. He groaned, ripping off the other binder and tearing his blindfold away.

"Off," he choked out, pushing against your shoulder, "off, baby, off, too much please-"

You pulled away with a pop and turned off the vibrator. He bucked and writhed when you pulled the device from his puffy, abused hole.

"Good job, Steven, took that so well," you said comfortingly, untying his ankles and spreading his legs. He gazed at you blearily, eyes focusing in the dim light. Everything rushed back to him in an instant after so long of being in the dark. You smiled soothingly, brushing the curls from his forehead and kissing his cheek.

His gaze fell on the bed. The pillowcase, knotted into a pouch, now soaked with his and your cum. Steven's fuckdrunk mind struggled to piece it together.

"Wh..did...did I? Y-you-" he breathed, realizing what happened. You winked, sitting on your haunches to reveal your still-tight, unused cunt.

"I didn't want to ruin it for round two," you murmured, leaning forward to seal his mouth in a searing kiss.

tags! **comment to join! @krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

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