#marc Spector x reader fluff

[softieekayy]

Time cast a spell

Marc Spector x reader x Steven Grant

Word Count: 1.9k

Series masterlist

From the beginning of time souls that were meant to be each other always found one another. In each and every lifetime. Now wasn’t much different either, apart from the fact that they may not have been born in the same decade. The gods laughed at their obliviousness.

The older man, Marc Spector, a unique one he was. 3 men living in one body, a vigilante. Always a villain and violent. His fated one, a much younger woman and a breath of fresh air. Osiris swore to the other gods that she must’ve been a descendant of his, life followed wherever she stood. She was innocence in its purest form. Khonshu observed her from a distance, a part of him wanting to pluck her right out of his avatar’s life, allowing him to lead the life he lives. But he couldn’t, there was something so alluring about a woman who worshipped him every night the moon was full. A funny thing really, his avatar’s other half was a follower of his and oftentimes she pleased him greatly.

Marc met her by accident the first time. It wasn’t much, a bumped shoulder and a grumbled apology but the smell of her fruity perfume stuck around, it was like the scent had wrapped itself into the clothes he wore. He didn’t know what she looked like but she was in his dreams every single night. Steven had grown curious of her, he asked Marc who she was and if she was a special lady friend of his. The latter just snarked at him and Steven listened, clearly finding out that another woman so soon after Layla was a soft spot.

Steven met her the second time. However this time she was distressed, her eyes a little swollen and mascara smudged under her eyes as she chased her furry little feline down the street. Luckily the bastard stopped at his feet, rubbing his black fur all up against Steven’s legs.

“Oh Jazzy, there you are!” She exclaimed, coming to a quick halt as the fat coal coloured cat slowly made his way towards his owner's arms. She picked him up eagerly, the cat snuggling into her chest as if he’d been looking for her. She hadn’t even noticed Steven and Steven was too awkward to say anything.

“Will you speak or just stare at her like a creep?” Marc asked from the reflective surface of the pole. Steven just stuttered but before he could say anything the goddess in front of him did.

“Oh thank you so much for stopping this little fat bastard!” The woman exclaimed, her eyes looking animated as she thanked Steven.

“Oh uh, no need to thank me really, he ran into me” Steven awkwardly smiled, his hand fiddling with the shoulder bag he wore.

“Well Jazzy here doesn’t really just rub up against everyone so you must be special.” She joked, holding the cat in her arms like a baby. Steven just nodded, unable to say anything.

“I’m Y/n by the way.” She tells him, extending her hand for a handshake and Steven, in return, repeats his name to her and she smiles.

“Well I think I must let you head home before I talk your ear off in the alley way. You looked like you were in a rush.” The younger woman spoke gently, her eyes diverting to the cat, keeping a close eye on him. Steven nodded, too stunned to say much else and could only wave goodbye as she turned and left. This time the perfume lingering onto Steven’s clothes.

“Mate I think I might never wash these again” Steven tells Marc, a lovesick expression clouded his eyes.

“Yeah well, that’s not such a good idea, I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again” Marc sneered, certainty coating his words. At that Steven snapped back into reality, Marc’s harsh words sinking in as he continued home.

Jasper’s rough meow woke her up from her peaceful slumber, the old cat deciding to put all of his weight onto her chest, waking her up.

“Jazzy, I love you, I really do but you weigh 12 pounds and I can’t breathe.” She deadpanned. Staring at the cat as if he understood her and maybe he did because he got off her chest and slunk into the spot beside her, cleaning himself. She stared at him for a second, lips twitching up into a smile before she made her way out of bed.

The day to her was unknown. She knew she had errands to run but nothing that would take her more than two hours. Maybe she could drop by the museum, she hadn’t seen it yet despite living in London for 3 years now. She hummed to herself in agreement to the plans, grabbing her clothes and hopping into the shower. Unbeknownst to her, a god eyed her every movement.

Steven wouldn’t say that today was great. Marc had the body the night before and now he was tired and barely conscious. Donna hadn’t been the greatest either, nagging him for his clothes this time around and all Steven could do was give her a look. Jake laughed at him when he saw the state his buddy was in and the latter could only glare at him.

(Y/n) made her way up the stairs of the museum, admiring the poster of the Ennead before she noticed its inaccuracies. The weather was bearable today, not too chilly but just warm enough. She made her way up the steps, walking through each and every exhibition until she reached her favourite, Egypt. There was something about the ancient civilization that called her in, it lured her like a moth drawn to a flame. She stood there for a couple seconds, not quite aware of what would be waiting for her.

Khonshu watched her, his eyes following the young woman like a hawk. He made sure he hid his presence, not wanting her to even sense him in the slightest.

“I wonder how much longer you can hide it from her.” Hathor’s voice purred in the moon god’s ears as she came to stand next to him. Khonshu didn’t turn his gaze away from the woman who was now engrossed in some sarcophagus.

“What is it you want, Hathor? Do you not have your own avatar to attend to.” Khonshu sneered and the goddess chuckled lightly, watching (Y/n) as well now.

“My avatar is doing just fine. She’s thriving,” she said, “yours however, their life might just get turned upside down again.” She smirked and Khonshu thought about engaging in battle there and then. Hathor not privy to his thoughts jus smirked, leaning fully against the pillar.

“I won’t let her.”

“You cannot stop what has already been fated, Khonshu, no matter how much you might try. Don’t forget who she descends from.” Hathor gave the young woman one last look before patting her dear friend’s arm and leaving. Khonshu wondered if she was there just to antagonize him or to help him see clearly.

(Y/n) couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched intently, her red lips curling down into a frown. She didn’t like the feeling and in recent days it had been more prominent, as if the looming figure never left. It started after she got Jasper back from the strange but cute man. Her thoughts drifted towards him, Steven, a charming yet very awkward man. She found him very likeable though and wondered if she’d see him again. However the size of London and the population pulled her out from dreamland, knowing that it would be near impossible.

A small black figure caught her eye as she was immediately drawn to it. Upon inspection it was a plushy of Anubis, a great god turned into one that children would hold in their sleep. She thought it was cute, but then she saw a scarab and then Hathor and so it went on until she had 12 of them in her hands, anymore and she wouldn’t be able to get home.

Steven eyed the woman with the copious amount of gift shop items and a small smile snagged on his face.

“Uh, need some help there?” Steven questioned the stranger, awkwardness thick in his voice, his hands suddenly feeling more clammy.

“Hm, oh yes please!” The voice, a very familiar one chirped back, handing Steven the pile of stuffies before he could say anything else.

“No fucking way.” Marc scoffed from the reflection once the so-called stranger's face was revealed. It was her, the woman Marc bumped into and the one whose cat was rubbing up against Steven.

“Oh it’s you! Hello Steven!” Her voice gleamed with happiness and excitement and Steven suddenly felt faint, his heart was beating too fast that the older man thought he was gonna have a heart attack. Her eyes lit up in a certain way that made it seem like they had stars littered in them and Steven had a hard time looking away from them.

“Oh hello. How is uh, the little bugger?” Steven asked, truly wondering about the black that seemed to fancy him.

“Oh Jasper! He’s doing wonderful, probably looking for a way out as we speak.” She chuckled, waving her hand in the air as her gold bracelets clinked together. Red lips upturned in a soft smile, a far away gaze in her eyes.

“Right yeah. Cheeky bastard.” Steven joked, hoping to hear that laugh again.

“Oh that he is. Now enough about that little trouble maker.” She said, resting her arms on the countertop and leaning forward just a bit, “Would you like to join me for coffee or tea sometime, whatever is preferable to you.” She asked with a delicate smile and Steven was at a loss for words.

“Steven, man, you’re gonna have to say something, she can’t read your mind.” Marc told him, sighing at his friend.

“Oh right! Yes, of course. Does Wednesday at 5pm work for you?” Steven rattled off and the younger woman in front of him could only smile, nod and admire.

“That works perfectly for me Steven, I’ll see you then.” She grabbed the bag of stuffies from him and waved him bye. A small piece of paper with some digits written on it left on the desk.

Steven was giddy and despite Marc’s fake reluctance, he too was looking very forward to this night.

Later that evening, (Y/n) was sprawled onto her bed, her iPad tossed beside her still playing the video she was watching from earlier. Khonshu observed the scene, an intriguing little thing she was.

“Child.” He whispered, his voice mixing in with the air. The young woman stirred a little yet still showed no signs of waking up.

“Little one, arise.” Khonshu poked at her with his staff and that seemingly did the trick.

“Huh, w-what.” She mumbled, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes. She looked ahead only to see bandages wrapped around a humanoid figure until she looked up and saw a floating bird skull, she screeched.

Khonshu leaned down until she was able to see his head, “At last we meet, darling.” His voice mixed in with the night sky as the woman in front of him looked confused and scared before she passed out.

Khonshu stood up, looking at her body and then up at the night sky.

“At last, after eons of torture she took form once again.” He spoke to the sky, his words letting the gods know what they suspected. Taking one last look at her, Khonshu fled in the night sky to his avatar.

He looked at the peaceful Marc Spector, asleep as if he had no worries for tomorrow.

“You have no idea what she will bring you, Marc.” And with those words Khonshu disappeared, letting things play out the way they need to for now.

Tagging these beauties: @weredancingonamoonbeam @jake-g-lockley

[blue-sadie]

Flick Of A Paint Brush

Moon System

You being a artist while dating them

Steven Grant

He gets you specific things like bowls, mugs, plates, vases etc just so when he sees them or uses them he thinks of you, definitely not so if in the future they find it they'll know how much of a great artist you are.

When he finally gets the courage his asks you to teach him how to paint his curiosity sparked by watching you paint and how you get so involved with each swipe of the paint brush.

If you ask to paint him, he'll become a babblering mess, his breath catching in his throat while his cheeks turn dark red, if he agrees he'll be fidgeting with his hands the entire time.

His most prized possession from you was a vase you brought from Walmart it was plane white intill you had a free afternoon, you painted some of his favorite gods onto it even wrote a little message in hieroglyphics which he stares at everytime he misses you.

Marc Spector

He let's you doodle all over, when watching a movie he gives you his arm to doodle on when your bored, he stares at each thing you've drawn in the mirror when you have fallen asleep, he takes a photo of each one compiling a album of all of them.

He'd rather watch then join and if you 'convince' him he'll begrudgingly join in but he'll get distracted easily and just stare at you instead.

He'll be all bashful if you ask to paint him he'll joke about being naked while posing dramatically but he gets more intrigued and curious as he sees you go into great detail capturing his every detail.

His favorite was a little doodle you did while he was sleeping his naked chest was just a blank canvas waiting to be doodled on it was a little moon with a fox sitting on it with his tail hanging down you have to make him not tattoo it on so he was a photo printed out next to your guys bed.

Jake Lockley

He's more of a classical person and buys you different size canvas so he can hang them around the apartment to make it more homey and so the apartment will feel like you even if your not there but also staring at the paintings calms him down.

He's a brave man no one can deny that but never in a million years will he get enough courage to ask you if he could join he's to scared he'll ruin the paints or break the paint brushes.

He'll refuse at first but as he sees the more effort you put in into asking him he'll cave but you'll have to tell him to smile or remind him to stay still.

He loves the big canvas painting you did of your guys first date it was in a coffee shop by the ocean he finds just by looking at it he gets the fuzzy feeling again he felt on the date.

[autismsupermusicalassassin]

after all of the different AU of Miguel x reader, or Oscar Isaac characters x reader ,non of them try to do a WICKED AU (musical) where the reader is elphaba and Miguel/or other Oscar characters are fiyero type characters in the au fic…but who knows that’s just probably me excited to see the WICKED movie musical coming out this year (part one)

[ashessonfire]

Moonknight requests <3

After going on another Moonknight rampage, I really want to write for the boys!! Please send in any ideas, fic requests, or headcanons, I will work with anything (only off limit is no smut!!) <33

[autismsupermusicalassassin]

pfffttt khonshu with a cat is hailous

Moonboys & Khonshu vs cat || Steven Grant x fem!Reader || Marc Spector x fem!Reader || Jake Lockley x fem!Reader || Khonshu x fem!Reader

Summary: How would moonboys interact with a kitten? And how would Khonshu handle a cat if he had to?

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~ 2890

Authors: Cass & Rouge

😻 JAKE 😻

It was usual for Jake to announce his return home loudly, but this time he didn't. He entered the apartment and went to the bathroom without removing his cap or jacket.

You peered out of the kitchen after you thought you had heard the lock and keys squeaking. "Jake, is that you?"

"¡Sí! ¡Me das un momento!" He yelled loudly from behind the closed door.

"Of course!"

Within a few moments, Jake walked out of the bathroom. "You better not get in there. I have blood on my stuff. I don't want you looking at it."

A frown appeared on your forehead but you followed him back to the hallway, not questioning anything else.

"How was your day, cariño?" Jake asked, trying to catch your attention.

"I made dinner and tried to reach you but you didn't answer my calls. Was everything okay? I'll wash your stained clothes. Do you want me to wash your jacket as well?" You replied with a frown still on your face.

Sitting down, Jake protested, "None of that is necessary. I can take care of it myself. You don't need to worry yourself."

You proceeded to set the kettle on fire to make Jake his afternoon espresso. It wasn't until you could swear you heard a loud meow sound coming from the bathroom.

Jake heard that too and cleared his throat loudly. "That crazy lady next door. I wonder how many cats she has there."

With a raised eyebrow, you left the kitchen and headed straight to the bathroom. "She only has three of them and none meows like that."

Immediately after getting up, he grabbed your hand tightly. "Since when do you know how her cats meow? I told you not to go there."

"Why not? She's just an older lady. I sometimes help her with shopping and I've been there a few times. She's very kind and her kittens are cute. Also, none of them meow like that, so stop making fun of me, Lockley, and tell me what you're hiding in our bathroom."

Jake continued to argue, "Just blood on my stuff. I don't want you to even look at it."

Another loud meow and a small paw reaching out from under the bathroom's door sold him out.

In a nod, Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "Okay fine. It's a cat... A kitten to be exact."

"Bring it here," you instructed your boyfriend and walked to the living room.

After rolling his eyes, he went to the bathroom only to return with a kitten in his arms. "Here."

You immediately approached him and rubbed the kitten's head.

"I just found him in the trash can outside and I couldn't leave this little guy there," Jake shrugged.

You made a quiet awww sound and picked the kitten out of Jake's arms.

"I was also unsure if you would let me keep him here," Jake added.

"Why wouldn't I, silly?"

"Because the building owner is weird and you don't want to have any trouble?" Jake gave you one more shrug. "I hope the kitten isn't a problem."

"Like I'd care about the groaning of that old prick," you told him, cradling the kitten in your arms. "How are we going to name the baby?"

I was going to ask you for a name idea, honey. You always come up with great ones."

You picked the cat up to have a brief look between its legs. "It's a boy. So maybe Nuka?"

Jake rolled his eyes with a soft chuckle. "I know it's a boy, silly. Well, you will have to think about more names then."

"You can give your thoughts too, love," you told him. "We need to take our baby to the vet."

"Babies, cariño," Jake muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have a box full of his siblings in my limo."

You blinked. "What?"

"Well... There was more than one kitten."

"How many?"

"Four more," Jake said quietly.

You gasped quietly. "Mr Lockley, I never thought you would care about the plight of poor stray animals."

"I just like cats, okay?!” Jake groaned, not too happy with your teasing.

You put the kitten down and turned to Jake to give him a deep kiss.

He didn't even dare to protest and kissed you back, grabbing your sides. Once you pulled away, he smiled. "What was that for?”

"For bringing this beautiful furball home. Now, chop chop, move your round ass and get his siblings here."

"You want to keep them all?"

"Why not? Our flat is spacious."

This time he grabbed you by cheeks and kissed you deeply. "I love you."

"Go, go and bring them. I can't wait to see those babies."

🙀 STEVEN 🙀

Steven was busy with a new book you gave him recently. Your return to the flat after work caught his attention. "Evening, luv!" He said cheerfully. "Look, I'm reading the book you got me!"

You entered the flat with something nestled in your arms. "Baby! Can you help me out here?"

In the blink of an eye, Steven sprang from the armchair, abandoning the book on the desk. "Did you go shopping again?" Steven asked softly. "One more trip like that and we'll drown in your dresses."

As you shook your head, a soft chuckle escaped your lips. "This time, no. Take a look at who I brought with me."

A small, red-haired cat was curled up in your arms.

Steve smiled, surprised, and gently touched the kitten. "Who might that be?" He chuckled. "You're a cute one, aren't you? Where did you find this poor thing?"

"I noticed him limping down the street near my office. He was so tired that he kept falling, and it appeared that his back paw was injured. I couldn't let him live on the streets any longer... I had no idea what else I could do."

"Did you take it to the vet? Shall I call someone?"

"Actually, I didn't. I wasn't sure if you'd let me keep him because I live by your house, so first I wanted to see if you'd agree," you explained everything.

The kitten you were holding opened his eyes and meowed loudly, his gaze fixed on Steven. The tiny creature was trembling.

As Steven picked up the kitten from your arms, he gently wrapped it in a blanket from the couch.

"Poor little thing. We need to get you warm and cosy. Then we should take you to the right doctor," He abruptly stopped, looking at the fish tank. "Oh, bloody hell. We cannot have cats here. Gus... Cats eat fish."

You blinked as you listened to Steven's words. "But, babe? Gus lives in his tank. The tank is covered from above. And the kitten is too young to comprehend the significance of his own cat nature and hunting abilities. Not to mention that he's hurt. If he grows up around Gus, he will never attack him..." You made an effort to make your points clear.

"He will learn how to get under the covers if he grows up here," Steven explained, looking at the kitten.

You approached Steven and gently took the cat wrapped in a blanket from his arms. "So, why are you holding such a raging beast?" You couldn't pretend not to be angry with Steven. "It's only a kitten. A furball. He will not attack your goldfish. But if you take him as a treat, I'll take him with me to my old flat, where he won't try to hunt, kill, or eat anyone nor anything."

Don't act so dramatic, darling. I didn't say I wanted to throw him out."

"I'm not being dramatic, but you're accusing him of something he'll never do. You stated that cats consume fish. That is, you attempted to find him guilty before he committed a crime. Are you playing Ammit?" You started raising your voice.

Grabbing your arm gently, Steven protested, "Don't pull that card on me now, luv. I don't judge the kitten. I am just worried about Gus. That's all."

"Do you honestly believe I won't teach the cat not to eat Gus, and treat him like a part of the family instead? Do you think I'm a horrible person? You already know how much I adore your goldfish," you protested.

I never said I thought anything like that. Now you put things into my mouth, and that's something I don't like," Steven said, shaking his head. "Let's get the little guy to the vet, okay?”

"Yes."

Steven nodded and gave you a small smile. "Then we will go to the pet store and get him everything he needs."

"And you promise to not accuse the little one of anything, deal?'

"I promise."

It had been two months. Freddy, the kitty, was doing much better after his injured leg was treated by the veterinarian. He was a bouncing ball of energy who was too cute to not be liked by everyone in the house.

You got home earlier one day because your boss had to close the store where you worked a bit earlier due to computer problems. How surprised were you that Steven wasn't there to greet you right away.

He was on the couch with the kitten on his lap. He was moving his finger right above the kitten's head, giggling when Freddy tried to catch it. "Look at you. Jumping like a little bunny. Someone is getting better."

Your heart melted at that precise moment. You were annoyed with Steven at times for being too harsh with the kitten, but the man was still concerned about his beloved goldfish. However, the scene you witnessed convinced you that Steven adored your new pet. "Hey, boys, I'm back. I can see you two are having a lot of fun!"

"Oh yes we do!" Steven cooed, stroking Freddy's little cheek. "He was a good kitten the entire day. Today, I woke up with him sleeping on my chest. I-it's okay, right?"

"I've been convincing you that he's not a beast, but a sweet, fluffy furball," you flopped on the couch next to Steven and briefly kissed his cheek. "Thanks for giving him a chance. You did the best thing possible by saving his life."

"Although I try, I still get nervous when he sits under the tank and watches," Steven admitted, kissing Freddy's head. "But he is indeed a cute, little furball."

"He watches Gus because it's interesting to him to see other animal just floating so peacefully in the water," you explained. "It's nice to see you two getting along so well. I'm pretty sure you both are the cutest boys around."

😾 MARC 😾

Marc loved visiting your flat. Your cat was the only thing he didn't like. The animal hated Marc, despite your claims that it was sweet and cute.

Your cat was a lovely black girl with a pointy nose and big, golden eyes. She was a sweet furball around you, but whenever Marc came into your flat, she transformed into a demon, as if possessed.

When Spector entered the room that day, your kitten ran up to him and hissed loudly.

Marc frowned in disbelief at the cat. "Yeah. Glad to see you too," Spector groaned, already annoyed before he looked at you. "Why is she like this?"

"Maybe she's just a bit jealous of you, you know? You're the only man that visits us and you pay all of your attention to me," you told him after making it to the hallway to greet him.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. There is no doubt in our minds that she is your one and only baby."

"But she can sense that you're a leader type here," you commented. "Maybe we can run a short test?"

"Test? Should I be worried?"

"No. Just come with me," you grabbed Spector's hands and led him behind you, right to the living room.

Reluctantly, Marc nodded and followed you, squeezing your palm.

You asked him to take a seat on the couch.

As reluctantly as before, Marc took a seat and got comfortable. "What are you planning?”

You took a seat by his side, and asked him, "Kiss me now."

Before pulling you into a deep kiss, Marc teased, "So demanding."

The moment you started kissing, your cat jumped on the couch and aggressively poked Marc's lap with her paw.

He glared at the cat, then at you, with an annoyed growl. "She seriously has a problem with me getting close to you. What now?"

In the softest voice you could muster, you advised, "Give her some attention. And change your tone, she can sense your exasperation."

As soon as I touch her, she's going to try to scratch me, you're aware of that, right? She's done that before."

"At least this time, trust me."

As Marc rolled his eyes, he decided to gently scratch the cat behind the ear. It was a hit with cats, wasn't it? What could possibly go wrong?

You knew everything you said was true when you heard a loud purr of approval filling the room.

"I wonder when she'll happily sink her claws into my hand," Marc joked.

The kitten jumped on his lap, made two small spins and laid down, purring loudly. Some moments later, a meow accompanied.

"I still don't trust her. I saw her sharp teeth," Marc said, scratching the cat's back.

"If you give her the attention she seeks, there's no way she'll think of attacking you."

"Are you sure about that? It's a mini version of a tiger."

"It's just a kitten, Marc. You're several times bigger than she is."

Marc was brave enough to pick up the cat and display it to you like a little lion. "Look at those paws. Mini tiger."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Marc, it's a small kitten. She won't eat you alive and all she needs is love."

The cat meowed loudly, wiggling her tail.

"She agrees with me,” Spector added, happy that the kitten finally stopped hissing at him.

"You see? We can say you tamed her in some way," you smiled at Marc.

Marc chuckled and took a look at the kitten. "Yep. When she's not hissing at me, she's not so bad.

The cat freed herself and instantly placed herself on Marc's lap again, purring loudly as soon as her golden eyes were closed and Marc started scratching her back again.

BONUS

🐱 KHONSHU 🐱

Khonshu asked, watching you carry a cat in your arms, "What's the point of this creature even being here?"

A small frown crept on your forehead after you heard Khonshu's words. "Well, she's my cat, and I love her. Do I really need some deeper purpose in keeping a cat at home?"

He scoffed, "In my time those were treated like saints and not like common house mascots."

"Would you tell me more, Khonshu? Of course, I've heard they were worshipped in Egypt."

“Is there anything else you would like to know, woman?" Khonshu asked.

"How did it start?"

"Have you heard about the goddess Bastet?”

"Yes, I did."

"There's no need to discuss that then," the god nodded, getting closer to gently rub the cat's head. "The Egyptians believed cats brought good luck. To honour them, wealthy families dressed them in jewels and fed them royal treats."

Your kitten tried to grab Khonshu's hand, meowing loudly. "This is what I need to do for my beautiful Nea," you smiled, looking at your cat.

"Do you know how to mummify it?" Khonshu asked curiously.

You blinked in disbelief, shaking your head.

"You don't? And you house a cat? Pathetic.”

"I won't mummify my cat after she passes away," you said with a frown. "She'll be buried, that's all."

A roar came from Khonshu. "What? You all lack even a shred of respect these days! I knew humans were stupid, but now it's ridiculous and disrespectful."

"What's your problem this time, 'ol bird?"

He scoffed, scratching the cat's head as he said, "You humans have no respect for old customs. Poor thing will die and be buried without respect."

Your cat tried to be picked up by the creature as best she could.

Khonshu picked up the cat and scratched its chin. During my time, owners would shave their eyebrows as a sign of mourning. They would mourn until their eyebrows grew back," the god stated simply.

You blinked and frowned more. You thought to yourself that as much as you loved your kitten, there was no way for you to shave your fucking eyebrows as a sign of mourning. "Well, it was centuries ago, Khonshu. And now we live in the modern world and we have modern ways to worship our dead, beloved ones."

By burying them like ordinary animals. Modern people are so pathetic and weak."

"Even though you think we're weak and pathetic, we've gained longevity not only for us but also for others thanks to medicine and science," you argued with Khonshu.

A life full of nothing. Hardly worth extending," Khonshu muttered, absorbed in the care of your feline companion.

Your kitten climbed on her back legs and licked Khonshu's beak.

"I will ensure that you are respected after you are gone, my dear," Khonshu promised, stroking your kitten's head carefully.

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[theshamelesssimp]

Me when I get to the part of a fanfic that has me giggling and kicking my feet

[luffyssa]

i got bored so here's a meme

[lockleysfav]

My Little Flower

Miguel O’Hara x AFAB virgin!Reader

summary: You had just met the spider society and Miguel a few days ago, You and Miguel had been quite chatty with eachother for a while before be was called out to a mission. A few hours later when you’re asleep in the lab, a high Miguel stumbles in.

warnings: NSFW, sex pollen, drugged Miguel, loss of virginity, rough sex, non con, somnophilia, creampie, reader soon loves it.

A/N: From the last post, the poll, i will be doing the top 3 voted smut ideas. If you want to be in a taglist just comment on this post ❤️. Enjoy!!

To say you were tired was an understatement, you had been working on your new costume a few minutes after Miguel was called out to a mission. It was lonely sometimes without him despite the hundreds of spider people around. You knew that you and Miguel were a little closer than others, and his company had always lightened your mood.

You begged him to let you come with him on this mission but he immediately shut you down, rushing off after telling you it’s too dangerous, plus, your suit isnt finished. It was whatever, you scoffed and sat back down to carry on with the designs. “Asshole” you muttered to yourself, mimicking his facial expressions only to make yourself laugh but once you calmed down and looked to the clock and saw it was 10:34pm, you decided to work a little on your laptop in miguels chair (he had the comfiest chair of course).

The door and slammed wide open and yet you didnt flinch for a second, Miguel stumbled in onto his knees, panting and clawing at his neck “fuck what is this” he heaved as he continued to squirm. His fangs had retracted and he felt his body growing warmer and warmer at a certain smell, he didnt realise that smell was you until he forced himself up onto his feet and saw you asleep in his chair, your body hunched over on the desk with your laptop still open, the white light lighting up your face. Miguel almost purred at the sight of you drooling on his desk.

“te necesito” he muttered breathlessly before scrunching up his face in frustration. He couldnt do that to you? right? You were new, still young. You’d hate him but god he couldnt stop his legs from moving towards you. He growled and so desperately tried to hold himself back, his cock straining against his suit.

You were whining ever so slightly in your sleep, Miguel wasnt aware if you were having a nightmare but its what he assumed and it only drove him even crazier “poor bebita” he whispered as he ran his long fingers through your hair before letting the bottom half of his suit fade away, his cock resting against your cheek. His tip was almost gushing with precum, he gripped the back of your hair and growled before pushing the tip into your drooling mouth “oh fuck, thats it good girl” he whimpered as his body grew hotter, his hips suddenly bucking harder into your mouth. Your head twitched and pulled back a little but Miguel gripped your hair tighter holding you in place “im sorry bebita im so sorr- f-fuck” his dick hit the back of your throat and he doubled over emptying his cum on your tongue.

He pulled out panting, he stared down at you expecting you to jolt awake but you were still fast asleep. You were more of a deep sleeper than he thought. Initially he thought he was okay, but the sight of his warm cum dribbling out of your mouth only hardened his cock again. He didnt waste another second, he lifted you up from the desk, the cum from his mouth smearing onto his shoulder causing him to groan. He carried you to his bed and layed you on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulled down your leggings along with your socks and shirt, you stirred for a moment and Miguel stopped, looking at your face until it relaxed again “so good for me, you love it dont you? you want me just as much as i want you” his eyes had turned a deep red, he felt feral.

He straddled your thighs and ran his fingers down your spine before gripping your ass cheeks tight, putting his weight down and spreading you wide open, your puffy pussy exposed to him. He heaved again, saliva spitting from his mouth before spitting directly onto your pussy. This time, you jolted.

“M-Miguel?” you lifted your head realising it was planted down on soft sheets. You feel a pair of large hands on your ass and you quickly realised the situation, the head of his cock pressed against your hole and you immediately thrashed against him to get away “no no! stay!” Miguel had tears in his eyes he was so desperate. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. “Miguel stop! Im a virgin please please dont do this” you were almost sobbing and Miguel let go of your hands.

“Virgin?” he asked as he looked down again, spreading your pussy lips before looking at the back of your head. “I wont…i wont hurt you okay? please bebita” he leaned down, his body weight completely pinning you down as he kissed behind your ear. “need you so bad, just don’t fight it and it wont hurt i promise” you were panting and whining, you were so scared but also full of adrenaline. You were crushing on Miguel the minute you laid eyes on him. But you were just scared.

Miguel nipped your earlobe making you yelp, he growled and sat back up on his knees, he let you have control over your arms as he started rubbing his thick tip along your slit. He used his thighs to pin your legs together, making sure you wouldnt be able to squirm so much. He pushed in a little and sighed in relief at your loud whining “it hurts! miguel w-wait” but he didnt, he forced himself deeper and deeper, he knew it wouldve been easier for you if his dick was any smaller. He felt guilty in his gut as he continued and struggled to force his cock all the way inside you “shh relax, take me all in baby come on” he pulled back before pushing in again and this time your pussy opened up for him, letting him slide right in making you cry out loudly “miguel!” you were frantic, trying to get away from the pain but Miguel only held you in place, hushing you and kissing your shoulder as he refused to stop his movements.

“Shh it’s alright, dont be scared it’s over j…just stay still and oh- everything will be fine!” he stuttered as sweat dripped from his face. His gut was burning with desire and he couldnt stop, he so desperately wanted to pull out and hold you, tell you hes sorry but he couldn’t.

Miguel had shown a little mercy by flipping you onto your back and spreading your legs before slipping his hands behind your knees and pinning your legs to your chest, folding you together. He saw the fear in your face when you looked down at the size of him “no dont look mi amor, look at me thats it…you’re okay this is gonna feel so good trust me” you shook your head but he only nodded his before sliding his dick back into your pussy. You gasped and pressed your palm’s against his chest a poor attempt to keep him from going any further, he moaned and only slid deeper, hitting your cervix. “too deep” you told him shakily and he ignored you, lifting your legs higher onto his shoulders and pounding into you “fuck you’re so tight, leaking everywhere you little slut you love it, stop being so fucking dramatic and take it” the moment he said this, he slammed against your g-spot and your eyes rolled back “o-oh my god” you bucked your hips up and he smiled against your neck “good girl there we go…” he pulled away to look at you, taking in your beautiful features while pounding you.

You were moaning at each thrust, it was music to Miguels ears and as soon as you started panicking, unknown to what was coming he almost exploded. “mmm fuck dont fight it, let it happen bebita come on let it all out” his encouragement had you crying, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came, making it difficult for him to keep thrusting but it didnt matter, he grabbed your throat tightly and kissed you, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth as he rammed his warm sticky cum into your womb.

Miguel laid his head on your chest, he felt a weight lift off him and he came back to his senses when he heard you crying. He immediately shot up and looked down at you with a frown “oh no…oh im so sorry i..i didnt..i dont know what to say” he cupped your cheeks desperate to hear you say something.

You shook your head in his hands “please dont leave” Miguel was stunned for a moment at your plea, your body was shaking and his heart broke “hey..hey look at me im not going anywhere” he looked into your reddening eyes “im not going anywhere…im so sorry this wasnt how i wanted this to go” he sighed and laid his head back onto your chest “i was hit with some powder i dont know what came over me when i saw you, please babygirl believe me when i say i didnt wanna hurt you i-i never want to hurt you” you were looking up at him, smiling weakly “it’s okay Miguel..i understand” you nuzzle into him and he clung to you tightly “i wont let anyone hurt you..you’re mine” he was gentle with words, it almost felt normal.

You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 💕

likes and reposts are so appreciated <3

[jks1uv]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 & 𝐼 (𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 & 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒) ; the moon boys | one-shot |

summary: marc notices steven’s lingering gaze on you when he thinks he’s hidden away.

pairing: fem!wife!reader x husband!marc spector.

trope: established relationship + husband who doesn’t play about his wife.

genre: fluff + some comedic relief + mild angst.

warnings‼️: jealous!marc + mean!marc (he’s a bit of a bully to steven) + jake makes his first appearance!

word count: 2,454.

random disclaimerrr: reader’s last name is l/n-spector. i was inspired by an edit that had the clip of marc saying “you’re in love with my wife?!” & steven was like “if i need, like, for a recipe for a protein shake or something, i’ll call ya.” 😭 ts was funny. the last line is inspired by this post! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Marc Spector has a natural talent in terms of observation. He’s perceptive, sharp.

You never know when he’s there simply because he chooses not to make his presence known.

It’s kind of scary, actually. You’ve had your fair share of panicked frights that almost brought you a heart attack.

He’s toned it down a lot ever since you’ve settled down and made a place in his heart.

You know him, truly see him for who he is.

You know his rough and calloused hands are in that image because of the hard work he puts in. You know his tired eyes harbor an ache that paints his soul a deep blue. You know there are some things he won’t tell you despite marrying you but you don’t mind.

You’ve been nothing but patient with him so you’ll wait as long as you need to.

Currently, you can’t wait for too long because you need something from the bathroom but it’s occupied.

He and the man in the mirror are having a heated discussion of which you’re the topic of.

“I’ve been in control this whole time-”

“Exactly! You’ve been in control of the body this whole time! When will it be my turn?!”

Marc shuts his eyes and rubs the sides of his forehead.

Steven has a point, he knows that.

However, he also knows the way the British man looks at you. His gaze is filled with longing, something Marc has familiarized himself with.

He wants to speak to you so badly but is shoved away inside like a haphazardly packed suitcase.

Steven has developed a romantic fondness for you and it grows stronger every time Marc intervenes.

“Why won’t you let me talk to her?”

It’s pitiful, how dejected Steven sounds.

Pathetic is really the word Marc wants to use but it’s not about the words. It’s about Marc’s jealousy.

“It’s not that.”

Your husband denies it like he’s been doing but Steven knows better.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Marc. I know why you won’t give me the body.”

If looks can kill, the ex-mercenary would’ve been the world’s most wanted serial killer.

“This conversation is over.” His tone is grave and cold.

“Finally.” Your muffled voice sounds.

Marc can see Steven’s face visibly brighten and there’s a hint of hope sparkling in his eyes. It almost makes Marc break his possessive streak.

Almost.

He sighs as he twists the knob revealing you standing in the doorway.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” You pry with your weight shifted on one hip and your arms crossed.

Marc stares at you and takes you in like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Your red and black plaid pajama pants grown soft over the years from the laundry machines, the faded logo of a graphic tee hanging off your shoulder.

Your hair is damp from your shower earlier and he can still smell the products you’ve incorporated into your shower and skincare routine.

He subconsciously stops himself and allows Steven to really see you as well. Or maybe it’s the effect your love has on your husband that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Either way, it’s you.

“Marc? Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows furrow a bit in concern and your hands reach out to him.

Marc doesn’t respond. He just stares at you with his deer-like eyes, like widening them would encompass your image.

His body shifts slightly but you clock it immediately.

His feet shuffle as he closes in on himself, his posture isn’t as upright as Marc’s and his face. His face is the biggest giveaway.

Those eyes that you’ve stared into for the longest seem like a different pair. They are foreign yet seem familiar.

You have an idea of who this newfound man is.

“Steven?” You murmur hesitantly.

Steven ignores you and goes to sit down on your shared kingsize bed.

You note his shaky hands and wandering eyes, he’s clearly lost and doesn’t know what to do.

“I dunno how this happened.” He blurts out.

You nod, though you’re as confused as he is because you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

Steven watches you carefully as you sit down next to him, deliberately putting space between you two.

He admires your face and is deep in thought when you speak up again.

“So.”

“Pardon?”

You blink and can’t help the smile that paints your face. He’s endearing you think.

“What were you and Marc gossiping about in there?”

You would never pry like this, in fact it’s the first time you’re putting pressure on the man— well, in this case; men.

But you’ve never formally met Steven before. You saw glimpses of him when he’d be reading a book on a sleepless night or making tea for comfort.

Fragments of himself would be left behind like pieces of a puzzle you were meant to solve.

You talked about it with Marc but he always seemed uncomfortable with the idea of letting you meet them.

You never forced Marc to show Steven or Jake but it was taking a bit of a toll on your marriage.

Steven saw it from the inside and wished so desperately to front himself but Marc was stronger.

Apparently not this time.

“You.” He whispers.

“Me?”

He nods slightly, his soft eyes filled with adoration for you.

You chuckle lightly in surprise.

“All good things I hope?”

Steven’s gaze shifts down to the carpet, visibly faltering in his movement.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no, no! You could never make me uncomfortable.”

There’s a warmth that spreads across the apples of your cheeks and it seeps into the skin. It makes you smile and Steven swears he can see the sun.

“Oh, bollocks. Marc’s gonna chew me out later for that.”

“And why is that?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Before Steven can take another breath in his name, Marc comes out and banishes him back inside.

“Marc! You missed it! Steven and I were having a wonderful conversation.” You exclaim with excitement.

Marc is not impressed nor interested.

“Yeah, I bet.” He grumbles.

He stands up and walks out of the bedroom, not necessarily having a set destination in mind.

“What’s wrong?” You follow him outside and into the living room.

Marc heaves out an exasperated sigh, his hands rub at his face and you can feel the tension rising from his body.

You gulp in fear of doing something wrong but is it wrong to speak of the elephant in the room? Literally.

Is it really wrong to address the man who’s technically the third man in y’all’s relationship?

“Did I do something?”

Marc looks at your nervous form.

It’s quiet for a few moments and the way his eyes dart from and to you seems as though there’s something you’re missing.

“No.” He softly sighs. “You didn’t.”

You take that as a sign to step close and he lets his body fall back on the couch behind him.

You follow in pursuit.

“It’s… complicated.”

He finally gives you something.

“More complicated than you being the vessel of an Egyptian God?”

The soft lilt of your voice gives away your teasing and he huffs out a laugh.

“No. No I suppose not.” The corners of his lips turn upward slightly.

He holds your hand in his and rubs your knuckles with his thumb.

“Steven has a crush on you.”

He confesses this with such seriousness that you can’t help but giggle a little.

“Wait, what?” You tilt your head a bit.

“Don’t.” He groans.

Your eyebrows jump a bit and your eyes widen with realization.

“Oh wow.” You gasp.

He doesn’t say anything but you know he’s thinking.

“Are you jealous?” You muse.

He snaps his head at you mid-conversation with Steven.

“What.”

The baritone in his voice has become even deeper if possible and it lowkey sends shivers down your spine.

But you don’t back down. “You heard me.”

He scoffs indignantly but you know it’s not towards you.

“I’m not… jealous.”

He says it like it’s a disease. (it is! get well soon marc!)

You roll your eyes at his poor display of a stern disagreement.

“You literally sound like you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Okay, whatever. I’m not jealous.”

You shrug and prop your head on your hand, your elbow resting on a pillow nearby.

The look on your face is that of a shit-eating grin and eyes that narrow when you know you’ve caught him in a lie.

Marc shakes his head and rolls his tongue over his teeth.

You take it upon yourself and shift to being on your knees. You lean over and take his face in your hands and squish his cheeks to make his lips protrude.

“Let me talk to him.”

You’re gentle yet firm and he can’t resist it when you take charge.

He’d call it unfair but you’d say it how it is: strategic.

He reluctantly rolls his eyes back and you let go of his face, leaning back to rest on your knees.

You know it’s Steven when his eyes are doe-like and he looks at you with uncertainty.

“Welcome back.” You greet cheerily.

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

His tone makes you feel bad, like it’s an inconvenience for you to speak to him.

His hands are in his lap and his eyes land on the coffee table in his line of sight.

“Well, I’ve never met you in all my time of being Mrs. L/n-Spector.”

He nods but still refuses to make eye contact.

“Steven?” You murmur.

Said man tentatively meets your eyes and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep and make you upset but I don’t believe Marc means to be so…”

You don’t want to call him jealous and risk never seeing this delightful man again.

“Possessive?” He tries.

You give him a pointed look and smile, letting him know that you feel the same.

“You said it, not me.” You chuckle.

A smile of his own grows and he feels himself growing fond of you by the second.

“It’s embarrassing.” He says.

“What is?”

He gulps. “Well, I think you’re quite lovely but saying I ‘have a crush’ on you seems a bit childish.”

Steven fiddles with the hem of his shirt and you nod.

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute.”

You’re not entertaining him and you’re not saying you’re in love with him.

You’ve thought about it before and even brought it up to Marc.

Being married to him is a commitment you’re making to him.

What about the other two men he hides inside?

It’s not like you and him can ignore them, they’re a part of his life and were there way before you.

Marc thought you were joking but he also thought about introducing you to them. Well, until Steven showed interest. Then it became all too real.

Steven looks at you with hope and you can’t help but find him adorable.

“Marc says to stop flirting or he’ll banish me forever.”

You guffaw at that, not believing he’d go against your wishes. “No, I don’t think so.”

Steven’s eyebrows jump up slightly, truly questioning how much influence you have over a man like Marc Spector.

Then again, you are his wife.

The next morning is quiet. Too quiet.

Your arm stretches over to feel Marc’s body but you don’t. The sheets are cold and serve as a stark contrast to the warmth you felt prior.

Maybe he has some urgent work.

You freshen up and pad to the kitchen when you see a kettle and smell an aroma that excites you.

There’s a yellow sticky note on the side of the kettle that reads, It’s my favorite as well with a smiley face drawn on the bottom.

You look inside and aren’t disappointed to find your favorite tea inside.

“Ugh. He’s so sweet.” You gush quietly to yourself.

Later that night, you’re waiting up on Marc to come to bed.

You’ve done your nighttime routine and are snug in bed when you hear the door creak open.

“Babe?” You call out.

You don’t get an answer and so, you stand up to turn the light off and are alert with a metal bat.

You hear the footsteps pad to your direction and are met with a familiar silhouette.

“You scared me, you asshole.”

Annoyed, you put the bat up and turn on the lamp light on your bedside but pause when you see the partially illuminated figure.

Your breath is caught in your throat at the sight of his eyes.

The eyes, you notice, are the one part of his body that will always betray him.

His body language and facial expressions are calculated, along with his mind. But the eyes show what he’s really thinking inside.

“You’re not Marc.” You observe.

You hear the man before you sigh and he slides his cap off.

His knuckles turn white from how tight he’s gripping it but it doesn’t reveal what he’s thinking.

It’s the first time you don’t know.

“Go to sleep.” His gruff voice sounds.

You’re taken aback by the roughness in it but by using context clues, you know this is Jake.

Your lips part from surprise at how you so easily follow his instructions.

Is this how Marc feels?

You have your eye on him as you lift up the blanket and step inside, letting the bat rest against the wall and bed frame.

He’s scarily still, you’d think he’s a standing corpse if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He’s stiff yet swift in his movements, ready to leave you be.

“Jake?”

He stops with his feet outside the door, turning his head to where you can see his side profile.

You take his silence and side profile as a sign to continue.

“Good night.”

He tips his head down once as a silent nod to your farewell.

He mutedly says it back, you almost don’t hear it.

He shuts the door and you take the silence to yourself to let this experience settle down.

You just met Jake. Without any begging, without any coaxing. He allowed himself to be shown to you and even bid you good night.

You giggle to yourself unbeknownst to the fact that Jake is listening.

A ghost of a smile is on the tip of his lips and he holds the amusement in as he walks to the couch, preparing to rest for the night.

He dreams of you and it’s slow, lasting and blue.

[softieekayy]

As it is now

Marc Spector x reader x Steven Grant

Word count: 2.4k

Series masterlist

The next morning was confusing to say the least, Jasper kept meowing for his food and after eating, he settled down beside his favourite and only human, licking her hair to provide some comfort. A hand came up from under the blanket and pet him on his head roughly, knowing the cat enjoyed it.

(Y/n) was still confused as to what the fuck happened last and she thought it was a dream but the sand and a small piece of bandage that looked centuries old said otherwise. She still had a day before her and Steven’s date so it was decided, today she would stay in bed and mull over the huge pigeon head in her room. She wondered what he meant by at last we meet again. Has she met the creature when she was younger? She groaned, shoving her face into the pillow and deciding that sleep will be easier than trying to figure out whatever the fuck it was that happened last night.

Jasper purred and nudged her arm, wanting for her to lift it up so he could cuddle up against her. (Y/n) obliged and pulled the cat towards her who sighed contentedly before they both drifted off into deep sleep.

The dream, it was a weird one. It wasnt her own time, that much she could tell. By the looks of it, it looked like a temple and there stood a woman facing away from her. Yet when she turned around (Y/n) thought it was a cruel joke. The woman she looked at was handling a dagger with precision was her own face yet this was not her memory, the white dress she wore was fit for a royal and the hieroglyphs all over the pillars told her she was in Egypt. She was afraid of moving, afraid that they may see her.

“There you are, my love.” A man dressed in shendyt with embroidery approached the woman. (Y/n) couldn’t lie, even if that was her, she was the most stunning person to have ever lived, as conceited as it may sound.

The woman wore a long white linen dress and a gold pleated belt, fitting it at the waist. Her dress was embroidered in various ways with gold and in her arms she wore the most stunning bracelets made of gold, one of them in the shape of a scarab beetle. The dagger she held once was now set down as she approached the man, laying a hand on his chest and gazing at him as if he were the only one to exist.

“Priestess.” The man gruffed, affection lacing his words as he moved his hand forward, grasping onto her arms.

“Ahmose.” She greeted him, placing a loving kiss on his cheek.

“You, my dear one, should not be here. You know what my father will do if he finds out.” She whispered to him, pulling away and continuing to examine the elegant dagger.

“Are you afraid of your father or of the Moon God?” The man, Ahmose, questioned her, although he had moved to face the priestess, the girl watching from the corner could not see his face.

“I fear both. I promised my life to Khonshu. To be his priestess and his servant. My love for you though, my beloved soul, will never die.” She tells him, coming closer and placing a tender hand on his cheek as he leans into her touch.

“You need to wake up, there is impending doom.” A rough voice whispered from behind (Y/n) as she turned around, seeing nothing but the sand dancing with the wind. The vision abruptly ended just as Ahmose was about to speak. In the real world, Khonshu observed her, lying in bed, sweat gathered on her forehead.

“That’s enough for now. Anymore of that and she wouldn’t be able to tell the past from the present.” Hathor spoke, her voice strong as she placed a gentle hand on Khonshu’s arm. The old god just stared at his friend with soulless eyes, not quite appreciating the interruption.

“She will need to find out in her own time. The biggest part has already been done. She met one, now she needs to meet the one.” Hathor tells him, not giving Khonshu time to speak. Khonshu listens to his dear friend, fleeing from the bedroom and leaves Hathor to stand there alone.

Hathor leans down, pressing her hand onto the forehead of the sleeping woman, “We have waited eons to long for this my dear. I’m sure you have too.” Hathor looks at the sleeping figure once more before materializing into thin air.

(Y/n) sits up with a gasp, clutching onto her now throbbing chest. Jasper stirs from beside her and sits up, wondering what the commotion is all about.

“Oh I’m sorry jazzy, it was just a dream.” She whispers softly and pets the little furball on his head as he purrs back to sleep. She smiles at the sight before getting up and walking to the kitchen. Water wouldn’t solve whatever the fuck she dreamt of so she deicded that a glass of whiskey would do just fine. Perhaps it would even up her limbs that seemed to stay perpetually frozen.

(Y/n) sat there for god knows how long, it was now nearly early afternoon and the young woman was still thinking about the vision, the night before and her date with Steven. The documentary she had chosen to play in the background caught her attention, “…Ahmose was a dignified noble during the rule of the great Pharaoh Amenhotep. He was an even greater warrior. Unfortunately his story does not have such a great end…” the phone rang and she nearly dropped her whiskey on the ground. Standing up she scrambled around looking for her phone, finding it just in time before the call ended.

Without checking it she picked up, the documentary seeming less important now.

“Hello?” She questioned, her voice soft as she shuffled around, putting the whiskey glass in the sink.

“-Ello, (Y/n)?” Steven questioned from the other end, making sure that he put the number in correctly despite Marc assuring that he did.

“Oh! Hello Steven! How are you?” The instant joy in her voice made Steven perk up, he smiled and wiped his clammy hand on the shirt he wore.

“I was just uh, making sure we’re good for 5 today yeah?” He asked, seeming nervous, a small part of him that thought she’d laugh at him and say no.

“Oh yes of course lovie! Would you like to meet at Le Café Bleu? They have both coffee and tea, so you uh, have options.” She told him over the phone, her voice seeming a little nervous now, thinking that maybe Steven thought she was stupid or that he only drank coffee.

“Oh yea, that sounds great! See you then, Love.” Steven rambles off quickly, waiting to hear a soft bye before hanging up the phone.

“Marc. Mate, I think I need help.” Steven looked at himself in the mirror, deep dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked unkempt as if the man hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Yeah man, you look a little rough. Why don’t you uh, start with a shower first and then I can help, if you want.” Marc replied to his alter, looking at the state Steven was in. He wasn’t even this nervous when he kissed Layla. There was something about the woman that made Steven just constantly want to be in her presence, as if they’d known eachother for centuries.

When (y/n) looked at herself in the mirror, she nearly had a damn heart attack. The woman staring back at her didn’t look like her but rather a walking talking corpse. Seems like last night and her weird vision took a toll on her. Deciding that pondering over her looks in the mirror wasn’t worth it, she hopped into the shower, hoping it’ll make her feel better in the slightest.

The shower did help a little but the more she looked at the time the faster her heart started beating. Steven was a unique man and his ramblings about Egypt encapsulated her in every way possible. Their conversation that day in the museum hadn’t lasted long but she hopes the one tonight will.

Turning around and facing her closet, she pulled out two dresses. It was chilly in London but not too cold to the point where she couldn’t wear dresses. And if it was, then a shot of alcohol would help warm her right up. The dresses she chose would keep her warm. One was a light grey sweater off the shoulder dress. She could pair that with a black belt and some kitten heels or her other options, a full sleeved long black dress she could dress up with some jewelry while still keeping it simple. Unable to decide, she turned to her furry friend for help.

“Which one Jaz?” She asked her cat who only purred and head butted himself against her right hand.

“Hm, black dress it is then.” She hummed, petting the furball a little more before moving around to change and do her makeup. She kept it simple, her signature black smudged eyeliner and some deep red lipstick. It was a date after all and something lighter definitely wouldn’t have suited her. She checked her phone, 20 minutes until she was supposed to meet Steven. That gave her more than enough time to leave now and still have a couple minutes before Steven arrived. Quickly putting on her shoes, she kissed Jasper on the forehead as he gave her a soft purr and she was on her way out.

“I hope it’s not too much.” The younger woman thought to herself, insecurity and anxiety settling in now.

The jingle of the bell draws the young woman’s attention away from her thoughts and to her eyes light up as she spots a jittery Steven. The young woman raises her hand and waves the older man over.

“Steven!” Her voice catches the said man’s attention and Steven gives her a wide grin. He quickly makes his way round the tables and to her.

“Hey.” He breathes out.

“Hey there.” She greets back, a smile gracing her beautiful face.

“So uh, d’you wanna grab a cuppa?” Steven questions, fiddling with his hands. (Y/n) watches him do so, a small part of her brain itching to just grab hold of them.

There was something about Steven that drew her in. The way he laughed and his eyes. There was something so familiar about them, they left her breathless.

“I can grab ya a drink, Stevie.” She moved, hanging her bag on the back of her chair as she moved to get up. Steven looked at her wide eyed as he also moved to stand up.

“No, you sit and I’ll grab our drinks. What would you like?” He asks kindly.

“If you are fine with it.” She tells the older man with a smile. Steven nods in return, not able to say much, speechless by her beauty.

“An earl grey tea with two milk and some honey please. Oh and if you could grab me a pastry it would be lovely!” She tells him kindly, crossing her legs over one another. Steven nods and repeats the order in his head as he goes up to order.

“Steven.” Marc calls out to his friend who only hums in response.

“Man, you haven’t told her she looks beautiful today.” At Marc’s voice, Steven goes wide eyed. He’d been so busy admiring you that you completely forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked! He curses himself in his head while thanking the barista kindly.

Steven sets down your tea in front of you and a piece of cake as well as you thank him kindly. This time however, Marc is present too. He’s taken aback by how stunning you are.

“So..” They both speak at the same time, laughing at it.

The conversation flows smoothly from then on. (Y/n) obviously starting the conversation with her excited rambling about something cute Jasper did. Steven listened to her intently, watching how animated her eyes get when she talks about things she loves and one day, Steven hoped she would talk about him like that. Steven rambles on about his fascination with Egypt as the younger girl in front of him listens intently. She loves the way he talks about Egypt and his deep passion for it.

The pair of them talked until they were the only people left in the cafe. Steven noticed that and he smiled bashfully, not realizing how lost they both were in the conversation.

“Think we should head out now, love.” Steven tells her, gesturing towards the nearly empty cafe and the woman smiles shyly, feeling slightly embarrassed with how late they’ve stayed.

“Oh yeah of course!” (Y/n) tells him, laughing a little bit as she stands up.

The pair of them head out the cafe, she grasps onto Steven’s arm as he kindly asks her to walk her home. She agrees, not wanting the night to end just yet. The wind picks up a little and brushes past them. Steven’s eyes grow a little wide but that goes unnoticed by the woman beside him.

“Sweet child. You must hurry.” Khonshu’s voice mixes in with the wind as he whispers to the girl. A cold shiver goes up her spine and Steven notices it.

“Love, are you okay?” He asks her, a small frown on his face. She simply nods and mutters out that she’s just a little chilly.

As they reach her apartment, she invites him away from the cold.

“Would you like something to drink?” (Y/n) calls out, waiting for Steven’s response but hears nothing. Curious and turns around to look for him only to not see the man standing there.

“Stevie?” She calls out, poking her head around the corner into the living room only to see him standing there facing something. But this man, this isn’t Steven. He stands straight and rigid, unlike the fidgety man she’s used to seeing.

“How do you know Khonshu?” The voice demanded. The voice that wasn’t Steven’s. No, this one had an american accent.

“Uh who?” She questions, still curious as to who the standing in her living room is.

“How. Do. You. Know. Khonshu.” He demands, his voice low and serious.

“I don’t. Who are you?” She questions, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m Marc Spector.” Marc replies, his voice hard and serious. He wonders if she was a distraction sent down by khonshu to get him to do something Moonknight again.

“Took you fools long enough.” Khonshu laughs, tapping his staff against the ground. Both of them look up at the unnerving figure and (Y/n) pales slightly but before either of them could say anything, she blacks out.

Tagging my lovies: @weredancingonamoonbeam @jake-g-lockley @verynormalsstuff

[blue-sadie]

Flashing Light

Them comforting you during a storm

The bang and clap of thunder is what stirred him from his sleep but it didn't fully wake him what did was the small whimper that left you when a lightning hit close by causing the hall light to flicker.

He would wrap his arms around you pulling into your chest, he'd pull the blankets tightly around you as you held onto him with fear, his chest vibrating as he softly hummed your favorite song.

Your body would shake with each flicker and clap of lightning and he would tighten his hold on you and bringing you further into him if possible, his eyes staring into the darkness as he leaned his chin onto your head.

He wouldn't try to move to much he knows that he should just stay still and be there to comfort you, if the lightning got closer and louder he slowly move his hands to press them over your ears as he pressed his forehead to yours.

When the storm finally passed and your shaking figure finally calmed down he would stay awake for a few more hours coming up with a way he could sound proof the place or have something you could wear so it wouldn't bother you further.

Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen

[flippinpancakes64]

The Wobbly Third Wheel

Summary: You and Steven have been going strong for a couple of months now. The only bump in the road is Marc, who for some reason, can't even seem to be cordial with you...

Marc Spector x Reader-centric, fluff and a lot of angst, mostly just a look at Marc's character

Note: I'm finally branching out past Twilight someone take a picture omg. But this is my first try writing for something different, so hopefully it goes well. I saw a Moon Knight edit on TikTok and now I'm back in my MK phase so... Anyways Enjoy!

In the beginning, you told yourself it was just him getting used to you.

Steven already told you all about Marc's past. His history with his mom which led to Steven's creation, the whole situation with Layla, Khonshu, being Moon Knight, basically everything.

So you weren't all that surprised when the grumpy American didn't exactly want to be your best friend. That's fair after all. You never asked to be best friends.

What you did ask, though, was for something like a mutual respect. A peaceful coexistence where you could both exist in your own spaces and interact in a kind way if you needed to.

Only, Marc seemed hellbent on, well, giving you hell.

He would go out of his way to order food for himself and not you, even if you were sitting on the couch right across from him. There have been a couple of times where you and Steven were out on a date, and Marc suddenly fronted. He would walk off, leaving you stranded and frantically searching for your boyfriend without any explanation or apology later on.

But the worst were the nights.

You had spent the night at Steven's place again, and it was currently the middle of the night. The moon was high in the sky, and London was quiet. You two were intertwined like vines, one of your legs between Steven's, his arms wrapped around your body in turn. It was hard to distinguish where you ended and he began.

It was nice, everything was peaceful.

Until Marc woke up.

He slowly blinked his eyes open, scanning their bedroom for anything that might have caused him to wake up. Finding none, he looked down at you.

And promptly got up.

That was always one of the worst things he did. Whenever you and Steven would be cuddling, or hanging out, or even just talking, if Marc fronted, he would always leave like there was a fire. Never an explanation, never a warning, just a complete tonal shift.

You know the boys can't necessarily control who comes forward, when they do, or how long they stay out. You know they have some level of control over it, but not a whole lot. And the way Marc looks at you when he suddenly fronts definitely leads you to believe that he's not the one behind the switch.

The surprise, followed by annoyance and slight disgust. His signature look whenever he saw you.

Marc roughly twisted out of your hold, not really paying any mind to if it woke you up or not. He sat up on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair and sighing as if he just got off a long shift.

Truth be told, he doesn't really know why he pushes you away like he does. He thinks you're nice enough. And clearly you love Steven. But there's just something about it, about even entertaining the idea of holding someone else close just like how he used to hold Layla.

Steven sometimes catches him fidgeting with his bare ring finger, running his fingertips over the indent left by his wedding band from all those years ago.

Layla moved on a long time ago, so why can't he? He doesn't know, and he doesn't really want to look too far deep into himself to figure it out.

You moved on the bed, groaning softly as you reached out for him. No, not him- Steven. You were reaching out for Steven. And he doesn't really want to think about the way his heart clenched when he thought of that.

"Steven," you groaned, your eyes blinking open sleepily as you turned to face him on the bed. His back was to you, but you recognized the tense line of his shoulders. The way his head was perpetually hung low like he was always guilty. Always a poor puppy waiting for another kick to land.

"Not Steven," he responded, his voice low and quiet. He wanted to be gruffer, to make himself sound tougher than he really did in that moment. But his body betrayed him, something it's been doing for years now.

"Marc," you whispered. He could hear you shuffling around on the bed, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that you were now sitting up. No closer to him than before, still giving him the space he needed. He appreciated that.

"Just... just go back to bed," he sighed, running his hand over his face tirelessly. It was too late for this bullshit. Too late to be having a late night conversation with his alternate personality's partner who he's slowly starting to develop feelings for too.

"Are you alright?" you asked, your voice infinitely caring. So caring and kind and understanding that it grated on him.

"I'm fine. Go back to bed," he grumbled, moving to stand up.

"Wait," you called, grabbing his arm before he could go too far. "Please, can we just talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about. I'm not your boyfriend," he gritted, his voice tight.

He could hear your tired sigh, and he felt his heart clench at being the source of your sadness.

"I know you're not, but you're a part of him. A big part of him. Please, can't we just talk for a little bit? I'm tired of this passive-aggressive act you've had going on for weeks now," you pleaded. When he turned back to look at you, he was met with those sincere, loving eyes. The same ones he's seen through Steven's. A patient, caring gaze that you save only for those you love most. And he's part of that.

He huffs, trying his best to play the part of the annoyed, grumpy man he's always portrayed himself to be. "Fine. Talk," he grits, sitting back down on the bed and facing you.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. You realized this might be the only chance you have to change things, to at least convince Marc to be civil.

"Okay. Look, Marc, I'm not asking you to cuddle with me, or to kiss me or dote on me like Steven does. You're not him, we're not dating, I know that," you started, looking deep into his eyes. Marc hates to admit how his chest tightened at that, how he had to fight back the urge to do exactly that.

"All I'm asking is that we can coexist. I love Steven, and I want to be able to spend time with him without feeling like I'm intruding on your space," you continued.

"You are intruding on my space. This is my apartment, this is my bed, you're wearing my clothes," Marc grits before he can stop himself. The way you sigh and bow your head afterward makes him want to hurt someone. Mostly himself.

"I know... I'm... I'm sorry. I promise, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. That's what I'm trying to get at. But I can't work with you if you don't work with me," you pleaded.

He wants to scream. He wants to tell you that you're always welcome, that you don't need to work around him. But he can't. His pride is too fragile, his ego too small. To turn around now would be to wound himself.

"Well I don't know what you want me to do," he settled on instead. A non-answer he always gave Layla when they argued. It had the same effectiveness now as it did back then, which is not much.

"All I want is some communication. I'm not very good at picking up the differences between you two yet. And sometimes it happens so quickly I can't catch it. It's jarring, you know? To be cuddling your boyfriend one minute and then the next minute he just gets up and leaves with no explanation," you said, your voice dripping with worry and sorrow.

"So what do you want me to say?" he gritted. He needs to backpedal, he needs to go back, but he can't stop himself. "'Hey, it's not Steven anymore, so fuck off,'? Is that what you want me to say? 'Hey, it's Marc, get out of my goddamn apartment, I don't want you here and have never wanted you here'? Do you want me to tell you that you're a nuisance? That you take away from my limited alone time because you're always fucking here? That I can't get a moment's peace?"

The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. The lines between your brows, the slight purse of your lips, the wobble of your chin.

"If... if that's what you want to say, then go for it," you whispered, barely hiding the hurt in your voice. No, no, no. He doesn't want you to cry, he's never wanted you to cry.

But this is just who he is.

He's Marc Spector. Moon Knight. The guy who always manages to fuck up everything good that comes his way. The guy who ruined not only his life, but has managed to fuck up Steven's too. The one his broken brain made to be the good one, the one who was supposed to be happy and live a good life away from all of their trauma, he pulled him into it too. And now they're both broken. Everything he touches breaks, and clearly, you're no exception.

Your hand on his shoulder that pulled him back down into the bed, the one that urged him to keep talking, that was when fate was set. And the proof is right in front of him.

The love of his life, his second chance at happiness, crumbling to pieces in front of his eyes.

And yet all he could do was watch.

A tear slipped down your cheek, falling from those eyes that hold so much love, so much patience. He knows if he watched long enough, all the love that you held in there for him would disappear too, so he looked away.

He didn't say anything after that, he just got back up off the bed and stalked out to the kitchen. You were left to tremble silently, to reel and mull over what he just said.

The next day, Steven told you that he didn't mean it. He reassured you that Marc doesn't hate you, but you don't believe it. From your eyes, Marc has only ever pushed you away.

This is what always happens. Marc breaks your heart over and over again, constantly proving that he doesn't love you.

But when it's the dead of night, you don't notice your boyfriend's arms tightening around you. You don't hear the whispered confessions of love that slip from his mouth, missing that signature British accent. You don't feel the hesitant kisses he places on your cheeks and forehead, ghosts of affection that he believes aren't supposed to be there.

Marc thrives here, in the shroud of darkness where no one, not even Khonshu, can see the love in his eyes. No one can hear the vulnerability in his voice. No one sees the tremble of his hands or the reverence they hold. And no one, not even Steven, can feel the longing for love inside of him.

[the-offside-rule]

S.G, M.S, J.L (Moonknight) - The Three of You & Me

Requested: gotta love the moonknight ppl

Warnings: not really no

Steven Grant fumbled with his keys at the door of the flat, the heavy thunk of the lock finally giving way as the door creaked open. His face showed a mixture of exhaustion and that unmistakable, endearing Steven charm; hair a bit tousled and his shirt wrinkled from a long day at the museum. He stepped inside with a weary sigh, tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes, not caring where they landed. “Ridiculously tired doesn’t even cover it.” He muttered as he spotted his girlfriend, Y/n, sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs. He trudged over and collapsed next to her with a gentle thud, head immediately falling onto her lap. Y/n chuckled, her fingers tussling through his hair as his eyes shuttered shut, his body relaxing into the comfort of her presence.

“Love, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Steven groaned, his voice tired yet animated as he began to recount the day’s events. His hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, seeking comfort as much as he was giving it. “So, yeah, Donna’s been on me all day. She goes, ‘Steven, I need you to catalog all these artifacts before lunch,’ right? And I’m thinking, that’s impossible. She’s giving me-" He paused dramatically, lifting his head slightly to make his point. "Mummified cats! Actual ancient felines, Y/n. Who just tosses that at someone before lunch?” He shook his head in disbelief before lowering it back against her shoulder. “And the tourists, don’t get me started. Asking me questions like I run the whole museum. I’ve had to tell people ‘I'm not a bloody tour guide’ at least six times today, because Donna like, freaks out when I go about 'nattering' on about Egypt.”

Y/n smiled softly, letting him rant, knowing he needed this space to unwind. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, his voice growing softer with each complaint, the day clearly catching up with him. His eyelids drooped, his words becoming slower and less coherent. “I don’t know how you put up with me.” He mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep in her arms. She kissed the top of his head gently. “Because I love you, Steven.” He muttered something unintelligible, trailing off as sleep finally claimed him. His body relaxed completely, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

But after a minute, Y/n felt the subtle shift she had come to recognize. Steven’s body tensed slightly, his muscles twitching in a way that was different from the usual sleep movements. His breathing changed, becoming deeper, more controlled. When his eyes fluttered open again, they no longer carried the soft, dreamy expression she knew from Steven.

Marc Spector was awake now.

Y/n smiled knowingly as his gaze met hers, his expression focused and alert. Marc gave her a small, almost apologetic smile as he stretched, cracking his neck with a quiet sigh. “Hello, Marc.” She greeted him softly. Marc’s lips tugged into a brief smile. “Hey.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Steven was exhausted.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” Y/n said with a chuckle, watching him stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen. “You hungry?” Marc asked, already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients without much thought. “I can make something.”

“Sure, I could eat.” She replied, leaning back into the couch, content to watch him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to taking over when needed. In a matter of minutes, Marc had whipped up a plate of grilled cheese. He sighed as he plopped down beside her, handing her the plate and grabbing the control for the TV. "I expected some alfredo or something." Y/n joked. "You said you were starved, pasta takes too long to make." Marc replied, the quiet hum of the television filling the space. "How righteous. You sure it's not because you can't cook?" He scoffed. "Steven can't cook, I made our food before you came along." He said, putting the control down and grabbing a half.

After dinner, Marc flipped through the channels yet again, landing on something mindless, and sat back down, pulling Y/n close as they watched TV. But even Marc couldn’t stave off sleep forever. He yawned, stretching as he set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. “Guess it’s my turn to knock out.” He murmured, his voice rough with fatigue. Y/n smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Marc.” He mumbled something in response, already slipping into sleep. But it didn’t last long before that familiar shift happened again—his body changing, his posture becoming more relaxed yet somehow more confident. When his eyes opened this time, they held a sharp, mischievous gleam.

Jake Lockley was awake.

Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Buenos días, Jake.” she said with a teasing smile, despite the fact that it was still very much night-time. “Buenos días.” Jake replied with a chuckle, heading straight for the coffee machine. He moved with a smooth, confident ease that was completely distinct from either Steven or Marc. “Coffee? At this hour?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup, the rich aroma filling the room. “I’ve got a job to do.” Jake said, taking a sip and leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes focused on her. "Cab driving or cab driving." He chuckled. “Don't worry about it, cariño. Won’t be long.” He said finishing the cup of coffee and placing it in the sink. "Marc will clean this later, right?" She chuckled. "He won't like it but probably." He nodded along, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "Vale, hasta luego, cariño." He was about to reach for the door handle when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay?” Jake’s grin softened just a bit, his rough exterior giving way as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Siempre tengo cuidado. No te preocupes por esa carita bonita.” He murmured, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, watching as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He gave her one last glance, his expression full of unspoken promises, before slipping out into the night. The flat felt a little quieter with him gone, but Y/n knew better than to worry. Jake always came back, and she’d be waiting for him.

[variety-fangirl]

Thinking about reader having a tough time, a tough couple of weeks, of just feeling awful. Your mental health had taken a toll and gotten bad again. You weren't exactly sure what specifically set it off this time. It was most likely a combination of things.

Your workload had picked up due to the increase in your rent, which put you financially out some, and you didn't want to bother others with that problem. You would feel too awful to even think of asking. You'd put on some weight due to the late nights and long hours working, so you didn't have as much time to prepare proper or healthy meals, which of course meant you had been snacking on the go. You'd overheard a few of your coworkers make some unkind comments on your weight and how "unkempt" you seemed as of late, whilst they finished early and had a dual income, so they didn't understand. But that had given your demons some fuel to get to work.

You were one of the very first people in and one of the last out. You had finished late every night for the last two weeks, running on caffeine, instant foods, and fumes. You pushed yourself, every day, just to make ends meet and it still didn't seem enough. You had almost fallen asleep a few times at your desk and had to down an energy drink or hurriedly drink coffee to stay awake.

You also had slacked on the household chores, which meant things were more messy and disorganised than you liked. It meant everything felt chaotic. It made things difficult to find when you were rushing around and late. You also felt like your relationship was suffering because of it, which just added the final nail in the coffin. Plus, your boyfriend seemed to be ignoring you as of late. So everything was just too much.

It was finally the weekend. You finally had some days off to do what was neglected through the weeks. You thought you'd start off easy, you did the mounds of laundry that needed washing. But the whole time, you were mentally berating yourself for not doing it sooner. You next cleaned the kitchen, mopping the floor and disinfecting the surfaces. Which is then followed by the living room and dining room. But, again, you just kept thinking about how gross and lazy you were, punishing yourself for not taking care of it.

You were doing mental hoops of insults, all the while making your mood worse and throwing you further into a pit of depression. You spent the whole of Saturday cleaning, putting away, and sorting your solo home out. You wanted to do nothing more than relax, but your brain kept saying how you didn't deserve rest or to relax until everything you'd neglected was completed. You hated it, which made you hate yourself.

It took you 5 hours to do everything. It took all of your energy to force yourself back upstairs afterwards. You still had more to do up there, so you got to it. You sat down on the floor where you had set out the weeks' worth of piles and piles of laundry to put away, but you quickly got frustrated and overstimulated with exhaustion. You just wanted a nap, things to be easier, and to stay on top of things. Was that so much to ask for? Apparently.

The tears began falling and refused to stop. Weeks of pent-up and pushed-down emotions had finally caught up to you and erupted. You were sobbing, loudly and hysterically, as you curled in on yourself and fisted the laundry in your hands. You were tired, so fucking tired. Of everything. You just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a while. You knew it wasn't healthy, this lifestyle that was taking absolutely everything out of you, but you didn't know what to do or how to break the cycle to give yourself some reprieve.

But here you were. The fumes that were running on nothingness had finally caved in under the mass of enervations and pressure. You weren't sure how long you sat there wailing and sobbing out your frustrations and complete exhaustion, just holding yourself and pulling at your hair. Your phone had vibrated multiple times in a short period but you just couldn't physically move, you couldn't do anything but weep to your heart's content. Not that you could look at your phone anyway, your vision was blurry from the constant stream of tears.

At some point, you hear the door open and footsteps coming up. Coming straight in your direction. You knew you had never unlocked the door from last night when you came home late. And only one person had a key to your place, your boyfriend. You watched with teary vision as he came around the doorway and walked towards you, pushing the laundry out of the way so he could kneel in front of you.

"W-what are y-you doing h-here?" You gasped out, whimpering about him seeing you in such a state of disarray and collapse. He had never seen you have a breakdown before, he'd naturally seen you cry, but not this bad.

"You butt-dialled me, sweetheart. I was so worried and stressed out that you wouldn't answer me and just kept sobbing. I dropped everything and came straight here. Think I broke multiple speeding laws to get here." He breathlessly chuckles as you giggle sadly through your tears, an accidental whimper following. You feel his hands gently grab your face to look at him.

"Talk to me, my love. What's wrong? Do I need to kill someone for you?" He half-jokes, a look of pure worry filling his beautiful features. You shake your head in his hands as you reach up to grasp his wrists in your palms to ground yourself.

You tearily explained everything to him, spilling all your stresses and worries to the man you love. You knew he wouldn't ever judge you or invalidate your feelings, so you felt comfortable laying everything out for him. He listened, hooked on every word, and patiently worked with you. All while stroking your face lovingly.

Once you were done, you sobbed once more. All the emotions pouring out of you in one go. He made you feel safe and gave you a space to be vulnerable and transparent with him. That was irreplaceable.

He wordlessly pulled you into his lap, manoeuvring you where he wanted you. You just let him, ending up with your face in the crook of his neck and straddling his lap. You immediately latched onto him, wrapping your arms around any part of you could, your hands fisting his clothing for dear life. He stayed there for some time, comforting you with sweet words and back rubs, until you calmed down enough. He was patient and kind, giving you everything you needed.

He eventually picked you up with him as he stood, not once releasing you and walked to your bathroom. He started the water, letting it warm up as he placed you down on the floor. He undressed you slowly, placing feathery kisses in the pattern and traces of where his hands once were on each and every inch of exposed skin, all the while adorning you with compliments and telling you how much he loves you. You were now crying for a completely different reason, but much less aggressively.

Once he finished his worshipping of your body, he undressed himself, discarding both of your clothes in the hamper. (So thoughtful). He then helped you into the shower, following closely behind, and proceeded to wash and massage every bit of you. He completely pampered and worshipped you, from your hair down to your toes. He took his time, being the most gentle and soft that he had ever been with you or anything in his entire life. He made all your stress and worries melt away. He allowed you to wash and tend to him in return after a lot of convincing, expressing you wanted to and it would make you feel better.

You worshipped him in return, not wanting to make everything about you. Especially with how well he was treating you, he always did, but he was extra attentive tonight to help meet your needs.

Once you were both done in the shower, he dried you and carried you into the bedroom. He spent the next hour on top of you and in between your legs. Being slow, affectionate, and gentle. His lips kissed every inch of skin he could while making love to you, wanting to express every bit of his emotions he could to you. You received mindblowing orgasm after orgasm, all while your hands stayed intertwined. And afterwards, you fell asleep on his chest with one of his arms wrapped around you and the other stroking your hair.

You were awoken the next morning with breakfast in bed from your favourite breakfast place, your favourite flowers and a fully cleaned home. Which of course made you cry again but from happy tears. You spent the afternoon in bed, making love and enjoying the calm and happy mood.

By the end of the following week, he was fully moved into your place, after a few months of dating. He made you cut down on your work hours, claiming to handle everything and helped you to keep on top of anything that needed doing. You were so thankful he was yours and didn't know how you would ever repay him.

(Multi) I had Simon, John, Johnny, Gaz, Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Nanami, Marc, Eddie, and Steve, in mind while writing this.

[nocturnewidow]

hi again!!

I loved the last thingy you wrote for me, and the tony stark stuff is amazing even though I usually don’t read stuff for him… (everything you write is really amazing though!!)

So I just got a new kitten, so I was wondering if you’d want to write how the moon boys react when you adopt a kitten/cat together!!

thank you, your so very appreciated! ^_^

-🐞

Hiii!! I’m so happy you liked the Tony stuff , even if he’s not your usual read!! That means a lot, truly. And a new kitten?? That’s adorable ,, congrats !!

The Moon Boys React to Adopting a Kitten Together 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡

Steven Grant˚☽˚.⋆

He’s already crying.

Like not ugly sobbing, but misty-eyed, hand over his mouth, in complete awe as the kitten paws at his shoelace.

“This is,, this is the best day of my life. Look at her little beans. Look at them, love. Are you seeing this?”

Steven is the most extra, about being a cat dad. He reads everything forums, ancient Egyptian lore on feline guardianship, probably buys a cat tree taller than him. She sleeps on his chest every night while he reads, and he’ll gently scratch behind her ears and tell her, “You’ve got the best mum in the whole world, you know that?” before leaning over to kiss your shoulder.

Oh, and he 100% gives her a name like Cleocatra or Bastet Jr.

She has a sweater. It has hieroglyphs. :)

Marc Spector⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Marc doesn’t say much at first. He just stands there, arms crossed, watching the kitten nap in a little sunbeam like he’s trying to figure out if it’s a trap.

“…So. We’re doing this.”

You nod, all sparkly-eyed. He sighs. “Alright.”

But secretly? He’s already attached. He just doesn’t know how to handle it yet. You catch him holding her like a baby while watching TV one night.

“You’re gonna give her a complex,” you tease.

“She deserves to be spoiled,” he mutters, scratching behind her ear. “…Don’t tell Jake.”

She always seems to find her way onto his lap when he’s patching himself up or having a rough day. Sometimes he talks to her like she’s a therapist.

“I know, princess, I know… but it wasn’t that simple. He was armed.”

She meows.

“Exactly.”

Jake Lockley‧₊˚♪𝄞₊˚⊹

Jake acts like he’s above it. “No soy un tipo de gatos,” he grumbles, lighting a cigarette by the window.

But you catch him taking selfies with her when he thinks you’re asleep.

You call him out on it.

“She climbed into my jacket. What was I supposed to do?”

“Say cheese?”

He scowls. But he’s soft now. You’ve won.

She always picks his boots to nap in. He pretends to hate it makes this big show of grumbling in Spanish and holding her up like she’s a sandwich but then she curls against his neck one night while he’s driving, and he melts.

“She’s got good instincts,” he mutters. “Knows who the dangerous one is.”

But she’s the only one who gets to sit in the front seat without a seatbelt.

And he carries her in the inside pocket of his jacket like she’s a secret weapon.

Bonus: The Kitten Picks Favorites

Steven buys the treats. Marc trims her claws. Jake teaches her how to knock over mugs.

You walk in one day to find all three of them asleep on the couch, kitten stretched out on Jake’s chest, purring like an engine.