#Past Layla El Faouly x Reader

[beautifulbows924]

Sunset

Marc Spector x Reader, Past Layla El Faouly x Reader

Masterlist

Writing Bingo Masterlist

A/N: This was a bingo request for @justgimmethebody, I hope it’s everything you wanted! A huge thank you goes out to @darkened-writer for beta reading this for me, I couldn’t have finished this without your help. & @noahspector for always coming through with moral support. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7K+

Warnings: Filthy smut with plot, No Spoilers, TW Dubious Consent (Sex Pollen), Angst, Blood mention, the tiniest bit of fluff if you squint, reader is vaguely implied to be female but no pronouns are used.

Summary: You and Marc get yourselves into a sticky situation.

Created for / Fandom: Marvel / @anyfandomgoesbingo Square Filled N5:Shared Ex / @anyfandomangstbingo B2:Sex Pollen / @mfbingo O4:Coffee Shop / @badthingshappenbingo I2:Misunderstanding

“Layla?”, you groan, your phone pressed uncomfortably to your ear, “What’s going on?”.

There’s a long pause, the receiver crackling as she sighs, “I need your help”.

You scratch the back of your neck, moving to sit upright, “What for?”.

She sighs again, this time loud enough for the receiver to pick it up, “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be asking you for anything—not after what happened between us, but this is important. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t”.

You scoff lightly, “So now you want to talk about what happened between us? You left, Layla. End of story”.

“I know, I did”, her voice shakes, “And I don’t have an excuse, I should have talked to you first, but please. I really need your help”.

You roll your eyes, swinging your legs off the side of the bed, “Living on the lam doesn't exactly lend itself to being able to travel at a moment's notice, you know, especially without any monetary incentive”.

Layla brings her lip between her teeth, a familiar sucking sound making its way through the audio, “I know, I’m sorry. But I don’t trust anyone else with this. Just you”.

Anger bubbles underneath your skin. “How’s Marc?”, you retort, unable to swallow the words before they come tumbling out.

Another shaky breath, “He’s good. The divorce finally went through last week—”.

“Alright, enough small talk”, you cut her off, “What is it that you really need?”.

You sit in the corner booth, alone, waiting. The smell of roasted coffee beans saturates the air, the heat from your half-empty mug radiating to your fingertips. You trace the edge with your index finger, around in endless circles, a nervous habit you managed to pick up over the years.

Leaning forward, you grab the cup, bringing it to your lips. It’s colder than you expected it to be, bitter.

Wind seeps in, sending papers flying as the door chimes open, revealing Marc Spector.

He wears a black hat, face drawn into a scowl, thick curls draped over his forehead. His shoulders are stiff, likely years of military training at work. And his body language makes it obvious that he doesn’t want to be here any more than you do.

Marc’s eyes scan the small cafe, coming to a rest when they meet yours. He hesitates, narrowing them for a split second before making his way over.

You gesture to the seat in front of you, rolling your eyes as he makes a show of plopping down into it, resting both elbows on the back of the seat.

“You’re going to catch someone’s attention”, you growl, placing your mug back on the table.

He shrugs, “And?”.

You lean back, crossing your arms, “And you’re lucky I’m even here, Spector. Which means we’re doing things my way”.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, I get it. What did Layla tell you?”.

The barista clears her throat, “I hope I’m not interrupting”, she says, grabbing your attention, “I just wanted to take your order”. She points to Marc.

You wait until she leaves to keep up the conversation. “Not much”, you go back to tracing the edge of your cup, “Just that it was important and that you’d fill me in on the details when you got here”.

His jaw ticks, muscles working over time as he gets his thoughts in order. “Our target is here in London”, he says, pushing a file towards you.

There’s a photo stapled to the left corner. The woman in it is fairly young, mid 20’s at the most.

“She’s the museum curator's daughter”, he explains, sensing the question in your eyes, “Layla thinks she has her own personal collection, a collection that includes—”, he flips through a few pages, “This”. He points to another picture, a red and white flower nearly bursting through it.

The barista comes back with Marc’s americano, setting it down in front of him as her eyes linger on his face. “Do you need anything else sir?”, she asks.

He looks to you. “That’ll be all”, you speak up, rolling your eyes at her blatant attempt at flirting.

She huffs quietly, turning away.

“How can some plant be an ancient relic?”, you ask, running your finger across it.

“It’s not just some plant”, he replies, “It’s the Egyptian Lotus. It’s been extinct for centuries”.

You scoff, “And you expect me to just go along with this? To what? Go on a wild goose chase to chase after some flower?”.

“It’s not just some flower”, he repeats, “It’s the key to finding Imhotep’s tomb”.

You sigh, fidgeting with the mug in front of you, “Alright, the sooner we get this done. The sooner we can go our separate ways”.

The street’s crowded, bustling with people, bodies pushed against each other without any care. The smell of cut grass and car exhaust, the sound of music and the chatter of mid-day business, overwhelmingly familiar.

Glancing over at Marc, you notice he’s trained on something, jaw set at one particular point.

“What do you see?”, you ask, leaning past him to follow his gaze.

He snaps his head back at your movement, yanking you behind him with an excessive amount of force, “Seriously? Are you trying to catch the entire cities attention?”.

Annoyance lights up your features. You’ve been doing this kind of work for a long time, longer than he has. You huff, shoving his hands away, “Nope, that’s your job—remember?”.

He rolls his eyes, glancing back at what you assume must be your target.

“Do you want my help or not?”, you growl, eyes trained on his every move, “Because I can call Layla right now and let her know you’re being difficult”.

He sighs, turning to face you, a sincerity in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “Yes—I do”, he says, throwing a hand out to wave you off, “I’m just on edge”.

“Well be on edge somewhere else, this is too important for you to be off your game. Remember that and let me do my job.”

There’s a pause, a long moment where you stare each other down. Waiting for the other to break.

“The target's there, next to the steps," he relents, jutting his chin towards a figure not too far from his left. You move around him again, this time sending him a pointed glare, so you can get a better look.

It’s the same woman from the photo. She looks happy, greeting her father on the steps of the museum with a bright smile.

“Are you ready for tonight?”, you ask, slipping behind him and out of the target’s line of sight.

“I don’t know, are you?”

Deep green leaves and bright red buds curl tightly together, bright white at the tip and deep red at the bottom. A self-contained sunset of reddened hues.

“Is this it?”

Marc nods, keeping his gun trained on the only exit, “Grab a few of those buds and let’s get the fuck out of here”.

Turning to the plant, you grab one of the stems at the bottom, cutting it with the edge of your knife.

The vibrant hues of red draw you in, like you’ve been placed under a spell.

You trace the bud with your index finger, pressing on the tip.

“What are you doing?” You hear Marc ask from behind you, but you don’t answer. You can’t. You’re too transfixed by the plant in front of you.

Continuing to press down, you feel a slight give. And then, with a sudden pop, the bud bursts open, releasing a thick, syrupy liquid.

The liquid is red like the plant, and it smells sickly sweet, almost artificial. Without thinking, you lift your fingers to your mouth and lick it off.

It prickles at your nose and curls inside your mouth, melting against your tongue like cotton candy. It tastes even sweeter than it smells, and you can feel the way it works itself through your body almost immediately.

Suddenly, you feel Marc's hands on you, pulling you away from the plant. “What the fuck were you doing?”, he shouts, but you don’t answer. You can’t. A warmth ignites inside of you, traveling to your core.

He drags you away from it and towards the exit, but you resist. “Let me go!”, you yell, struggling against him. You want to go back. You need to go back.

But he's too strong, and he manages to drag you out of the room and into the hallway.

“What the fuck was that?”, he asks. You still don't answer. You're too far gone. Intoxicated.

He looks at you, and you can see the confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. But there's something else there too. Something you can't quite identify.

He shakes you, hard, “What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”.

You roll the remainder of the sticky residue between your fingers. “I don't know”, you reply, your voice a slurred mess, “It was just so... so…”. Sweat beads down Marc’s neck, and you feel the sudden urge to lick it off him.

You lean in, your mouth mere inches from his skin. You can feel his pulse racing, hear each tick of the watch on his left wrist. He smells like salt and musk and you can't help but nip at his neck with your teeth.

“Shit”, he hisses, pushing you away, “We can't do this. Not here. Not now”.

He grabs your hand and starts to pull you away again, but you thrash in his hold, smearing the rest of the liquid across his lips.

He freezes.

You’re feverish, uncomfortably turned on. You press your legs together tightly, whimpering at the slightest bit of friction. “Please”, you beg, “Just a little longer. I need to… I need you”.

Something in Marc snaps. Without warning, he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, “Is this what you wanted?”.

He presses his body against yours, his erection poking at your stomach, “Come on, fucking beg for it”.

He pulls away briefly, just long enough to rip your shirt apart. And then he's back, his mouth on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your skin.

Grabbing the meat of your thighs, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“Please, Marc”, you moan against his lips, begging him to do something—anything, “Please”.

He pulls away slightly, “Say you’re mine”.

Your eyes stare into his, filled with so many emotions, you can’t pinpoint any of them.

“I’m yours”, you breathe between kisses.

He pins you to the ground, your legs still wrapped around him, “Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take good care of you”. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a kaleidoscope of reddened marks in their wake.

He lifts his hips from yours and you whine at the loss of contact.

Shoving a hand between you, he hurriedly unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down with a single yank.

You begin to get impatient, starting to work open the button on your own pants when Marc decides to pull them apart, tossing the remnants to the side.

Reaching down, you help him shove your panties off, frantic to have him inside of you, to drown out the screaming need that’s filling your every thought.

You use your free hand to pull him down by the neck, crashing your lips together in a tangled mess of tongues and teeth. The kiss is rough, needy, filled with every ounce of desire you can spare. Emboldened by your passion, his hips snap forward, tip dipping between your folds as he coats himself in your wetness.

The first thrust is hard, deep. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, just keeps going harder, faster, until your vision is blurry and you’re left gasping for air.

You cry out as he hits a sensitive spot inside you, your body bucking against his. He grabs your wrists, pressing them into the ground above your head.

You arch your back, trying to get closer, to feel more of him.

He growls, flipping you on your stomach, pressing you into the ground. Your hands search for something to grip, something to hold on to. He slides one hand down, pushing a finger inside you, curling it, hitting all your sweet spots.

You moan loudly, uncontrollably.

His other hand reaches forward, rubbing and teasing at you as he adds another finger. You’re so close, so fucking close, and then he pulls away.

You whimper in protest, but he doesn't listen. He flips you again. This time pushing your legs up, draping them over his shoulders, and then he’s back inside you, moving in and out, his cock filling you in a way nothing else ever has. Or will.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks. Trails of blood.

Your walls tighten around him. You can feel yourself getting close, so close, your toes curling at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Marc”, you cry out, your voice laced with desperation, “Please, I’m so close”.

He doesn't say anything, just increases the pace, his breathing coming out in short, sharp gasps.

You can feel your body tensing up, about to explode.

And then it does. You scream his name, your whole body shaking with pleasure as you come undone, your heart beating a million miles a minute.

Marc follows suit soon after, spilling deep inside you, filling you to the brim with seemingly endless ropes of cum. You lay underneath him, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling as the aftershocks of your orgasm hit into you like a freight train.

He collapses against you, face resting in the crook of your neck, his body shaking with the force of his release. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from your high.

Suddenly he stiffens, pulling away and standing up, getting dressed quickly. He doesn't say anything as he finishes putting on his pants and buckles his belt. He doesn't look at you as he grabs his gun and holster, slinging it over his shoulder.

He starts to walk away, but then he pauses, his back still to you. “I’m sorry”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “I shouldn’t have…”.

The haze lifts.

You stand on shaky legs, moving to place your hand on his shoulder, “Marc—this wasn’t your fault”, he flinches, “You can’t blame this on yourself”.

You sigh, “I know we don’t really get along because of everything that happened with Layla, but even I know you weren’t trying to take advantage of me”.

“What do you mean everything that happened with Layla?”, he asks, turning to face you.

“Her cheating on me with you”, you deadpan, avoiding his eyes.

Marc’s jaw ticks, “What? We were married. I had no idea you dated”, confusion decorates his every feature.

“When you disappeared—to deal with Arthur Harrow on your own, we dated for a while. Then one night she disappears and I don’t find out until several months later that you’ve decided to try and work things out.”

He moves a step closer, “I didn’t know any of that, I swear. Layla’s been keeping information from both of us”.

“We should get going”, you reply, “We still have a lot of work to do”. You step around him, walking towards the door.

A hand catches your upper arm, halting your movements, “You don’t believe me, do you?”, his hold loosens a bit, “I’m telling the truth. Just like I’m telling the truth when I say I’m attracted to you—and not just physically”.

You remove your arm from his grasp, sighing heavily. “I’m attracted to you too”, you offer, “But I need time to process all of this”.

Marc nods, shoving his hand in his pocket to silence the ringtone blaring in his ears.

You watch as his face falls, a mix of anger and betrayal crossing his features.

Incoming Call: Layla, the screen lights up.

He rejects it, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “We’ll talk more about this later”, he says, his voice tight, “Right now we need to focus on the task at hand”.

She’s got a lot of explaining to do.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or un-tagged down below <3

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[bit-dodgy-innit]

Ballroom Blitz, Part 1

Summary: *Stefon from SNL voice* This fic has everything: parties, Khonshu possessing his avatar, ballroom dancing, a cameo by the British royal family, LAYLA EL-FAOULY, the moon boys looking like this ⬇️ , and so much more! 

Basically, Sigyn brings the Moon Knight to a classy function at Buckingham Palace, and all hell breaks loose. A continuation of my fic SCARED TO BE LONELY

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Marc x Fem!OC, Steven x Fem!OC, Jake x Fem!OC, past Loki x Fem!OC, past Marc x Layla

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Here have some Moon Boys and Sigyn while I write Marc and Jake screwing their breastfeeding wife in Shape of You land. Also, what can I say? I love dressing Marc and Sigyn up and making them dance in public together. Also I made Shuri queer and gave Khonshu they/them pronouns byeeeee

I could kill him, Sigyn thought to herself as she paced up and down the hallway of Buckingham Palace, the rather unimaginative locale for where the British royalty was hosting the ball. The sound of her stilettos meeting the polished marble reverberated down the length of the high-ceilinged corridor.

The Brits were hosting the event to foster camaraderie and diplomacy between the nations that were ruled by warrior-superheroes. The Wakandans were in attendance with all of their slowly dissipating mystique and perennial grace, and naturally the Asgardians - New Asgardians, technically - were invited as well. 

While at first Thor and King Valkyrie had believed that going was a waste of precious time, time they needed to use hunting down Gorr and Loki, Sigyn convinced them otherwise. They had to go, she’d implored, because if they didn’t it would raise suspicion and worry. It wasn’t time for the general public to panic just yet. Furthermore, she’d pointed out, this would give them cover to debrief the Wakandans, since Gorr’s vendetta affected them too. 

There was one more reason Sigyn knew that their attendance was the right move, and it was because of her escort. It was expected for Thor and Valkyrie to arrive as a unit, the former crown prince of Asgard and his successor on Midgard, which left Sigyn’s arm bare. She refused to attend alone, therefore she’d asked Marc to accompany her. He’d accepted. 

Sigyn publicly on the arm of another man would infuriate her estranged husband. This was different than she and Khonshu’s avatars having sex in the privacy of her Claridge’s suite, or the dark corners and hidden alleys they’d fuck in each time they failed to find Loki as they chased him halfway across the galaxy. Attending the ball with Marc was an overt abandonment of Sigyn’s vows to her spouse, no matter that he’d forsaken them first. She was hoping that it would make the adopted Asgardian so livid it would deliver Loki to them, ending their weeks-long fruitless pursuit. 

Yet, Marc wasn’t here. Nor was Steven or Jake. They all knew about tonight’s event, she’d told them each separately, and how much it meant to Sigyn. It was a chance for the princess to recapture a portion of her old life, her life in her home universe, where she was a shrewd diplomat and gracious guest. Not only was the system late, they weren’t answering any of their phones. 

“Seeg,” Thor jogged over to her, looking dapper in his tux. “They’re going to start introductions soon. I’ve already asked the Wakandans to go before us, but is there any sign of him?” 

I am going to kill him, Sigyn amended her previous thought. All traces of doubt were gone. She detested exceptions like this being made on her behalf, especially when she was conducting official business. How could they do this to her? As if she didn’t already have enough abandonment issues. 

His sister’s dejected expression answered Thor’s question. He put his massive palms on her shoulders. “Hey, I’ll send Val in by herself. We’ll go in together, though we may be so blond and dazzling as a pair it could drive the Midgardians mad.” 

The god took the small smile his words etched across his sister’s lips as a victory. “I’ll enter on my own Thor, you and the King need to present a united front. Besides, I’m not even being introduced as a royal anyway.” 

Tonight, for the first time in nearly a millennium, Sigyn wouldn’t be introduced as princess of Asgard. Instead she would be Lady Sigyn Frodisdottir, her name when she was maiden. It made sense. She was royal on a different Asgard, and it would confuse everyone if a princess appeared out of nowhere in New Asgard. They’d all think she was married to Thor or Valkyrie. Nevertheless, it was more salt to the wound Loki carved into her heart, a wound Marc, Steven, or Jake’s presence would’ve served as a balm for. 

“No!” Thor protested, “Come on, it’ll be fun!”  

Sigyn opened her mouth to insist once again, but a member of the palace staff approached her. “My lady, I apologize, but I believe your escort just arrived at one of the service entrances.”

Sigyn’s heart soared and burned all at once. He didn’t abandon her after all, but of course Marc hadn’t listened and arrived in a car like she’d told him to. “Is your team bringing him here?” 

“We are my lady,” the staff member confirmed, “But for security purposes, could you come with me to make sure it’s him?” 

“Of course,” Sigyn answered without hesitation. She turned to Thor and begged, “Buy us a little more time, would you? I’ll collect him as quickly as possible.” 

Her brother nodded, mission accepted, as Sigyn and the staff member dashed from where the nobility waited outside the grand ballroom. The princess was surprisingly speedy in her heels. 

“My lady, are you comfortable with passing through some of the staff corridors?” they inquired. “I loathe to suggest it, particularly to an esteemed guest such as yourself, but it may be wise in the interest of time.”

“Certainly,” Sigyn consented, “I don’t mind at all.” 

Sigyn met Marc in a staff hallway just outside the kitchens. He was impeccably dressed in a classic tuxedo that Sigyn had procured for him through Claridge’s personal shopper. Steven had been fronting when they’d had a fitting. He nearly lost his mind over wearing a suit that was being altered for him by a tailor from Savile Row.  

But this was undoubtedly Marc charging toward her. The storminess in his eyes and athleticism in his gait was unmistakable to the Asgardian. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly pushed from his brow with a hint of product. His appearance would’ve made Sigyn’s heart skip a beat if she wasn’t in such a rush. 

He began his apology, words pouring out of him, as soon as Marc glimpsed her. “I’m sorry, so fucking sorry. I rushed here, literally flew as fast as I can, Khonshu demanded that I–”

Sigyn stopped him “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now, we’re delaying the introductions.” 

The princess took Marc’s hand and tugged him to follow her, but now he’d been able to get a proper look at her, and Marc nearly choked on his own breath. Sigyn was a vision. She wore a simple yet timelessly elegant navy blue satin gown. It had a modest, delicate boatneck neckline, and fit the length of Sigyn’s body like a glove, the hem stopping just above the floor.

The Asgardian’s long locks were swept off her shoulders in a neat French twist. Marc had seen Sigyn without makeup plenty of times now, she was gorgeous and frankly didn’t need it he’d always thought, but there was something about the touch of smoky shadow around her eyes and an almost nude pink painted onto her lips that enhanced her divine features further. 

A sparkling diamond bracelet encircled the wrist that held Marc’s hand, and two small teardrop diamond earrings fell from her lobes. Around Sigyn’s neck, a thin diamond choker. The princess looked like an old movie star, understated but still incredibly alluring. 

That was until Sigyn turned around to tow Marc in the direction of the ballroom. If he was a cartoon, his eyes would have bulged out of his head and left his skull altogether. Where the front of the Asgardian’s dress rested just above her clavicles, the back was open, plunging down an expanse of bare skin to right above where Sigyn’s spine began to widen into the plump curves of her ass. And it turned out that her necklace wasn’t a choker at all, it was only a portion of a long diamond strand on which a sapphire, exactly the color of the princess’s eyes, hung at the root of her back. 

Jake was so captivated by this development that he pushed to the front, forcing a switch with no regard that they weren’t alone. The palace staff hurried along beside them, but that didn’t stop Jake from grabbing Sigyn’s hips and pulling her back to him. 

“Ay princesa, tu culo en este vestido”, he murmured. “Me estás dando una erección en medio del Palacio de Buckingham.”

Thank heavens the palace staff were bastions of discretion. 

“You’ll never get this ass again if you make us any more late,” she warned him in Spanish. 

Jake promptly released her and they resumed their race back to the ballroom, yet Sigyn only made it a few paces before her hand was captured and she was pulled into an equally hungry and earnest kiss. 

“You look absolutely radiant tonight, love,” Steven professed when they broke apart.

“Thank you darling,” she melted. “But we must make haste, we’ll have time for the two of us soon.” 

Which reminded Sigyn, “Whose name shall I give to the announcer?”

“Mine.” American accent. Marc. He’d switched back. 

“One of these days I wish to speak with Khonshu,” Sigyn fumed. “This is outright obnoxious.”

“He thinks I’m serving you more than him lately,” Mark divulged.  

That stopped Sigyn dead in her tracks. “You’re not serving me. I am your partner Marc, I could be queen of the multiverse but we’d still be partners in this venture. You know that, right?” 

Marc nodded.

“That infernal ancient bird,” Sigyn swore.

Marc remained silent. He’d done his best to lose the Egyptian deity as he flew across London, but Khonshu was always watching. Marc knew that the god wasn’t exactly fond of Sigyn either and getting in between them would be nothing short of a shitshow.   

They arrived back to the ballroom entrance just as the Wakandan delegation were finishing their introductions, Shuri and T’Challa the last to cross the threshold. 

“You made it!” Thor crowed in delight, Valkyrie at his side. “We’ll go first, give you two a moment.” 

“That violates protocol,” Sigyn protested. 

“Who cares?!” Valkyrie exclaimed with playful irreverence. “On New Asgard, the protocol is whoever’s ready goes first.” 

The King sent Marc a reassuring wink and soon they disappeared into the ballroom with the announcement “Her Majesty King Valkyrie of New Asgard and Thor, the strongest Avenger.” 

“I can’t believe he made them say that,” Marc muttered as Sigyn adjusted his lapel. 

“Do not get me started,” the Asgardian concurred through gritted teeth. She lay her hands on his broad chest. “You’re not nervous, are you?” 

“This is the furthest a kid from working class Chicago can get,” Marc told her. 

“Just take one step at a time and keep your gaze straight ahead,” she advised. 

It was their turn. Sigyn whispered to the uniformed attendant waiting to announce them, then returned to Marc, who offered her his arm. This was it. 

“Lady Sigyn Frodisdottir of New Asgard and Mister Marc Spector!” 

A swell of strings from an orchestra greeted them as the pair entered the ballroom. Every eye in the massive space was on Marc and Sigyn as they descended the staircase into the room, Marc making sure to go slow so Sigyn would retain her balance. 

Yet, the princess didn’t need his aid. She seemed to glide down the stairs, clearly the Asgardian noble was back in her element. Nevertheless, she covertly squeezed her escort’s arm, hoping he got the message “I’m happy you’re here with me” she meant to convey with the gesture. 

He took her advice, setting his gaze directly in front of him instead of looking at his feet, channeling the confidence from knowing he was here with the most beautiful woman in the room.

Thor, Valkyrie, T’Challa, his consort Nakia, Shuri, her striking consort - a member of the Dora Milaje, plus the British crown prince and his wife were all waiting for Marc and Sigyn at the base of the staircase. The orchestra continued playing, so once they were level with the other couples, Marc led Sigyn out to the dance floor with the rest of the royals and began the waltz. 

She’d given him advance notice about this part, which gave Marc time to teach himself the mercifully simple box step the dance consisted of as well as time to practice with her.  

Sigyn beamed at her partner while they waltzed. When Loki first left, Sigyn couldn’t have dreamed that she’d be in the arms of another powerful, kinder, dashing man, dancing at an opulent Migardian palace in another universe. Though now Sigyn was here, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she told him. 

“You’re throwing off my counting,” he chided. 

“Please, you can do this in your sleep and you know it,” she dismissed him fondly. 

“I’ll be glad when this song is over” he groused, then softened. “This is a little different from the first time we danced.” 

“Only slightly,” she joked. Sigyn wanted to kiss Marc, yet they’d mutually agreed that there were to be no public displays of affection this evening. Luring Loki was one thing, but they didn’t need any Midgardian attention. It was proving more difficult in practice, what with Marc dressed to the nines, holding her near enough for the princess to smell his crisp cologne, his chiseled face so close to hers.

“I know Steven and Jake already said it, but you do look really beautiful tonight,” he offered as they sailed across the floor. 

“Thank you, Marc,” she grinned again, Marc was the stingiest with compliments. It wasn’t that he didn’t genuinely mean them, but sharing them necessitated a vulnerability the Midgardian was still unaccustomed to. “You look quite dashing yourself. Now what troublesome task did Khonshu insist you complete before you arrived?” 

Marc opened his mouth to answer, but instead of vocalizing, his eyes glowed a pearlescent white, his posture stiffened, and his head tilted back slightly. Miraculously, he didn’t miss a step as they danced which could only mean one thing…

“Why don’t I tell you myself, hm? Since you are so eager to speak with me.”

Khonshu. 

“Your timing is impeccable,” she commented, her tone dripping in sarcasm. 

They twirled her, Khonshu’s agility taking Sigyn off guard. Marc had mastered the box step but not much else.  

“It would behoove you not to wear your emotions so plainly on your face, little princess,” the god admonished her. Khonshu’s voice was unmistakably deeper than Marc’s and more sonorous.

They no longer shouted like they had the first time they’d puppeted Marc’s body with the Ennead. Now that Marc had experienced it before, Khonshu had a better grip on modulating his avatar’s volume. 

“Typical man, telling a woman how and how much to feel,” Sigyn scoffed. 

“I am a god.”

“That may be true, but you’re still a man,” she quipped. 

“It has been a while since I was corporeal,” they rumbled, pressing Marc’s groin into her hip.

Sigyn recoiled so quickly, the normally balletic Asgardian tripped over her shoes. Khonshu steadied her, disguising her stumble as a dip on the dance floor. 

It wasn’t fair that the mangy falcon was wearing Marc’s skin. The face she gazed upon, the arms that held her, did things to Sigyn. Involuntary things. Primal things. She tried to superimpose the beaked image of Khonshu Steven had shown her over Marc’s features and tamp down on the defiant arousal stirring within her. 

“What are you doing here?” her glare full of flames, “Why now?” 

The deity straightened, bringing Sigyn with them. “Because you’ve fallen in love with my avatar and he’s falling for you. Every damn one of him.”

“I don’t–-I’m not in love with Marc,” she instantly denied as they resumed the waltz. What if he could hear her? She went on, “I do care about him however. His safety and wellbeing is a matter of importance to me, which is more than you can say.” 

Khonshu snarled in a harsh whisper “How dare you insult me.”

“I do not fear you,” Sigyn looked them straight in Marc’s eyes. “In fact, you ought to be thanking me, putting yourself in my debt. I’m trying to save you.” 

“And yourself,” the god pointed out, “I will not allow you to pretend as if you're performing some great act of charity on my behalf. I enable your intergalactic travel, lest you forget. You are serving yourself just as much as you’re entreating my avatar to serve you.” 

“All the stars above, they are not–”

A slackening in the body’s posture stopped the princess mid-sentence. 

“Sigyn?” Her name was spoken in a British accent instead of Khonshu’s dark timbre.

“Steven?!”

Steven heaved as if he was holding the god back with all of his physical might. “So sorry love…we’re trying to get him out of here, but he’s too power–”

His eyes glowed once more and his shoulders went rigid. Khonshu had returned. 

Sigyn exhaled an exasperated sigh at their reemergence. “Do they give you consent to use their body like this?” 

“I own this body,” Khonshu replied simply. 

“Well, that response clarifies perfectly who is in service to who.” 

“And yet they do whatever you tell them to, then lick your quim afterwards,” the deity fired back. 

“You are wildly fortunate that I enjoy your avatar’s face,” her voice lower and more menacing than any of them - Jake, Marc, Steven and Khonshu - had ever heard it, “because otherwise I would punch that smirk clean off of it.” 

“Little princess–”

“No more,” Sigyn demanded. “I want my escort back. Now.” 

“And why should I listen to you?” 

“I won’t ask again.”

When Khonshu refused, still swaying with Sigyn, she began in the same ominous tone, “You know tonight is important to me, which is precisely why you decided to make your entrance now. I must hand it to you, Khonshu, it’s your most breathtaking act of sabotage towards me yet.”

She was right. The Egyptian deity knew Sigyn wouldn’t make a scene in front of so many fellow royals and prying eyes. 

“However, Marc, Steven, Jake and I, along with Thor, King Valkyrie, and the buffoons at S.W.O.R.D., we may fail. Gorr may kill us all,” Sigyn continued, “Or if Loki rises to power, he’ll likely spare me. We’re still married according to most cosmic law, and he’ll want heirs. Legitimate ones. Norns, he’s wanted children for the past two centuries now.”

Sigyn leaned in close to Marc’s ear and murmured to Khonshu, “What do you think he’ll do to you if that comes to pass? Better yet, what do you think I will do after your insolence tonight?” 

“You’re bluffing.”

“Perhaps I am,” Sigyn conceded, “Or perhaps I’m not. Are you going to risk discovering which it is?” 

Khonshu pulled away so they could see Sigyn’s face. She sneered at him, “You will continue to permit your avatar to partner with me to stop Loki, and provide transport for us whenever we require it. Now return my escort to me.” 

In lieu of a verbal reply, Khonshu merely cooperated, the body nearly collapsing on top of Sigyn when it was returned to Marc. 

“Marc, darling, are you alright?” She held him close to her. 

“Yeah…” he was panting as if he’d run a marathon, “yeah I’m fine. Can we sit down?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” she cooed. The Asgardian and Marc rarely used pet names with each other, but in this moment after witnessing Khonshu’s cruelty, Sigyn couldn’t help herself. 

They left the dance floor. Marc sank down onto one of the plush red velvet couches that were dotted around the edges of the spacious room. 

Sigyn sat with him, rubbing his back. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yeah, I will be,” he assured her. “Just need a moment.” 

Sigyn removed her hand to allow Marc his space. She kept quiet and flagged one of the servers, requesting a glass of water for her partner. 

“Thank you,” Marc said when the server returned with the glass. 

She surveyed Marc expectantly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Marc answered honestly. “He’s done it before, but only when the Ennead convenes. It’s something I can’t get used to though.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Marc sent the princess a wry grin. “You were pretty fucking formidable back there.” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she teased. “How do you think I was able to keep Loki in line for as long as I did?” 

Her quip prompted a question from Marc. He tried to make it sound nonchalant. “So you two are still married?”

“Only legally. It’s similar to that term you told me, for when spouses have decided to no longer stay together but yet to properly divorce.”

“Separated,” he supplied for her.

“Yes, we’re separated.” 

“Would you take him back if he won? If he became the sole god in the multiverse?” 

“If it meant protecting those I care about, yes. I would.” 

Marc respected her honesty. “You know I always wondered why you two—you…you didn’t have kids.” 

“No child of mine will ever be used as a pawn, and that’s exactly what they’d be if we’d had one,” Sigyn explained. “In my universe Thor, much like the one here, is still unwed and childless. So I knew, no matter how much he’d deny it, that if I gave birth before Thor married and had an heir of his own, Loki would use our child as a bargaining chip to ascend the throne before his brother.”

“I can see why you wouldn't want to bring a kind into that,” Marc sympathized.

“I appreciate that,” she managed. 

The two watched the other couples dancing in silence. Marc was surprised at how light the hulking god of thunder was on his feet. 

Marc leaned over to Sigyn, “For the record, I don’t think I serve you.” 

The Asgardian was diffident. “I’m glad.” 

“And I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed.  

“We promised we wouldn’t.” 

“That was before I saw you in this dress.” 

“You think it’s been any easier for me with you looking like that?” 

“Sigyn,” he rasped, crowding her space further.  

The princess was on the verge of succumbing to Marc, breaking their mutual promise, when Thor strode up to them and interrupted, “Thankfully that’s over!” 

Marc and Sigyn sprang apart. The Avenger pretended to be oblivious and continued, “Did anyone else feel the weird energy out there just now? Marc, my man, you’ve been holding back your dance moves!”

“What is it, brother?” Sigyn unsuccessfully masked the irritation in her voice, refusing to take her eyes off her escort. 

“Valkyrie’s rounding up the Wakandans, it’s time.”

Ah. That. Sigyn turned to Thor. “Marc should come.” 

“Marc should stay and be eyes on the ballroom while we’re away, like we discussed,” Thor was doing the thing where he sounded overly upbeat to mask his frustration. 

Marc could sense it. He pecked Sigyn’s lips, effectively kissing the pout off of her face. “We should stick to the plan. I’m fine here.”

At last she agreed and rose from the red cushions. “We won’t be gone long, and you’ll pay for that, Spector.”

Marc winked. “I sure hope so.”

As Sigyn and Thor departed, the god whispered, “You said it was casual.” 

“It is,” she countered, looking anywhere but Thor’s face.

“You two are acting like you’re square in the sexily-denying-their-feeling-for-each-other phase of any good rom-com,” Thor shot back. 

Sigyn glared at him. “You need to lay off the Midgardian entertainment, I think.” 

***

Marc set about sweeping the room in his date’s absence. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a server, not to drink, but as a prop for a very fake casual stroll around the room. Sigyn had warned him that Loki was a shapeshifter, so he did a lap to see if anyone, even the most innocuous attendees, perhaps the Queen herself, was tailing or watching him. 

Who Marc found instead knocked the wind out of him. He blinked in disbelief, sure that the vision in front of him was in fact a hallucination. It wasn’t though, because once they locked eyes, she made her way over to him instead of disintegrating before him. 

It was his ex-wife. 

Where Sigyn had opted for a timeless subtle elegance with her gown, she had eschewed tradition and wore a much more modern ensemble. A cap-sleeved orange crop top showcased her broad shoulders, then stopped at the center of her rib cage, revealing a delectable strip of tawny skin at her midsection. A voluminous matching orange skirt bloomed from her waist, everything accented by the dainty gold jewelry she wore. 

She looked gorgeous. He was going to need that champagne after all.  

“Layla?!”

“Hi Marc.” 

He tried not to betray just how much he was reeling at her presence. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same about you. Of all the colonizer palaces in all the cities in the world…”

A nervous laugh escaped Marc at her Casablanca reference. He took a pull from his champagne flute to ease him. “Sorry, I sound like a dick for asking, but why are you here?”

“I've been consulting for the Wakandans on recovering stolen artifacts,” she informed him. Layla kept her voice carefully guarded and aloof. It stung to realize Marc was no longer privy to Layla’s adventures. 

He attempted to wheedle them out of her anyway. “What, you going to use the party as cover to make a play tonight?

Layla ignored her ex-husband’s question and sipped her respective champagne instead. “The reason you’re here made it pretty clear when she paraded you in earlier.”

Marc’s cheeks burned. Layla knew how much he hated pomp. “It’s…it’s not like that. We’re working together.”

Layla shot him her signature “don’t bullshit me” look but Marc doubled down. 

“Seriously, there’s a threat involving an alien and a Norse god and I’m helping the Asgardians track them down before they can do too much damage.” 

Her laser gaze intensified. Layla knew him too well, and knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. She cursed the dark, masochistic part of her that wanted to hear Marc say that they were sleeping together. 

Marc didn’t feel the need to. Instead, he swore, “It’s casual. I don’t think either of us know what we are, or care to. No labels, no commitments.”

“You committed to learning the waltz.”

“You look great,” Marc changed the subject, one in which he could actually tell the truth. 

“Marc—“

“Are you still working with Tawaret?” Marc pressed. 

“Do you miss me?” 

Yes, said his gut. He hated himself for it. The divorce was final, Marc still considered Layla as his wife. Deep down he knew he could fuck Sigyn six ways to Sunday and still a little part of him would miss Layla. It wasn't fair to his Asgardian lover, and it was bloody painful for Marc. 

Marc searched for an adequate answer. He did miss her, and after everything they went through in Cairo, they thought they could give their marriage another chance. But Marc couldn’t shake the guilt that he’d condemned the person he loved most to the same servitude he entrapped himself in. 

Though Tawaret was much kinder to her avatar than Khonshu to him, it also wasn’t lost on Marc how she blossomed in her new role as Cairo’s resident superhero. Not to mention the discovery of Jake threw him for a loop. Ultimately, he filed the divorce papers again because Marc believed he needed to allow Layla to enter this new chapter of her life unencumbered with his baggage, his DID, his love for others to exploit to get to her.

While Marc’s thoughts raced, Sigyn rushed to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder and melding herself into his side with a blind fluidity. 

“Darling, Thor’s insisting that you sit for the Asgardian delegation photograph, and he won’t listen to me when I insisted we’ve put you through enough this evening. It’s his attempt at a fraternal gesture, I suppose, but we must—“ 

“Sigyn, this is Layla El-Faouly.”

The princess faltered, taking in the sight of the caramel skinned, raven haired beauty before her. Her mane of dark curls were reminiscent of a regal lioness, her eyes inquisitive as a hawk’s. 

Sigyn felt her heart fracture and jealousy bloom in its cracks. Khonshu had been more right about her feelings for Marc than she’d cared to admit. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours, my lady,” Layla responded without missing a beat. 

“Call me Sigyn, please.” The princess searched for something more to say, something safe. “Are you enjoying tonight’s festivities?”

“Very much so.”

“Yes, the British certainly know how to entertain their guests.”

“As well as subjugate and steal from other cultures,” added Layla. 

Sigyn’s eyebrows shot up. “I ought to have done more research on our hosts it seems.”

“Didn’t you say you two needed to be going?” Layla asked in a deceptively airy tone, zeroing in on her ex-husband.

Sigyn also looked to Marc for help. He felt like a deer caught in not one, but two, deadly hunters' crosshairs. 

The Asgardian broke the silence. “Right…well, I could always tell Thor that I couldn’t find you Marc, if you two have more to discuss.”

“No, let’s go,” he answered at last. The decision to leave with Sigyn hurt Layla more than if Marc had stabbed her in the heart. 

Sigyn turned to the exquisite Egyptian. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“And you, Sigyn.”

The princess waited until they were far enough away to remark coolly, “She’s stunning.”

Marc tensed. “Sigyn...” 

“Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” she mused, drinking in the figure Marc cut in his tux. “You two make a beautiful couple.” 

“Stop.” 

Sigyn glowered at him. Marc moved in closer, put his hand on the bare skin of her back, just under where the sapphire dangled. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, Marc, are you?” she shot back, angling away from his touch. “You said all of nothing back there.”

“I don’t want to do this right now,” Marc huffed. 

“How fortunate, neither do I,” Sigyn parried, her mounting anger causing her to walk faster, “So if there’s one of you in there who hasn’t been with her I would much rather speak to them.” 

That was despicable, she thought as soon as the words had left her mouth. Sigyn had no right to speak to Marc like that, to treat him as interchangeable, to demand a more convenient alter at any given moment. Yet before the Asgaridan could apologize, a pair of arms pulled her back against a solid torso just as they had earlier that evening, causing the blue gem she wore to dig into her spine. 

“Estoy aqui, nena” Jake murmured into her ear. 

“You were never with her?”

Jake laughed, his trademark humorless bark. “She doesn’t know I exist.” 

“He’s furious at me, isn’t he?” She inquired about Marc. “He should be.”

He shushed her in a soothing tone. “Don’t think about that right now. Be here with me. I’m more fun at a party than the two of them combined.”

Sigyn walked out of his hold, though she kept her hand clasped in his. “They’re still waiting on us. Can you pretend to be Marc for the next five minutes?” 

“Claro que si,” Jake assured her, following her. “Then we leave.” 

“Not that soon,” Sigyn countered. “But soon enough.” 

Jake growled in her ear with excitement. “Por favor princesa, let’s leave now. I’ll take you to a club where we can really dance.”

But they were already entering the opulent meeting room where the photographs were being taken, Thor booming “There you two are!” at their arrival.

READ PART TWO

A/N: I need everyone to know that I adore Layla and May Calamawy sooo much so that every OC I write must be intimidated and jealous of her because she is truly a goddess among us. That being said, I harscore ship Layla and the Moon Boys in canon, wanted to make sure NO ONE thinks I’m a hater! 

Taglist: @starfirette @twwcs

Translations: 

Ay princesa, tu culo en este vestido - Ay princess, your ass in this dress

Me estás dando una erección en medio del Palacio de Buckingham - You’re giving me an erection in the middle of Buckingham Palace 

Estoy aqui, nena - I’m here baby 

Claro que si - Of course 

Por favor princesa - Please princess

#moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #sigyn #thor #thor love and thunder au #marc spector #marc spector x female reader #marc spector x female!oc #steven grant #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x female!oc #jake lockley #jake lockley x female!oc #jake lockley x female!reader #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x marc spector #past loki x oc #khonshu #jake lockley speaking spanish #wakandans

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning

STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!

main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.

CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.

CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.

CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?

CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?

CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?

CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.

CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

CHAPTER ELEVEN -

CHAPTER TWELVE -

CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!

#moonknight x reader #moonknight fanficiton #marc spector x reader #mary palmer #moonknight imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant imagine #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #Jake lockely fanfiction #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac x reader #oscar issac fic #marvel x reader #marvel #smut #steven grant smut #marc spector smut

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 2: It's a love that has no past

Chapter 1

Words: 1126

Layla and I were finally back at the apartment after we had managed to unravel the mystery of the grocery list. It had only been about a month and a half into our relationship when they had insisted I move in, my lease had come up and with the rent increase there was no way I could pay for that place on my own. It’s true that I had put up a fight about it, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea that early in a relationship, but they were very persuasive…Or maybe Marc showed up with a moving van one day and wouldn’t let me argue. It was one of those. Marc just had a way of convincing me he knew what I needed, and he was so often right. Maybe it was our connected pasts, both of us had childhood trauma, pasts we didn’t like talking about. We just had very different ways of dealing with it, and some similar ways. There was at least one or two times each of us had to talk the other out of the bottom of the bottle. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a relationship where I didn’t have to try to explain the unexplainable emotion that deep-seated trauma creates, but Marc, he just looks at me and he knows, I don’t have to say a thing.

“Hey habibti, can you refill the rice canister?” Layla brings me out of my thoughts with the familiar nickname and a simple request.

“Of course hun.” I smile at her, taking the new bag of rice to refill the canister. Layla grabs the bag with the new bottles of toiletries we had picked up, sliding her arm around my waist and kisses the Nape of my neck as she walks by. A smile crosses my face and I let out a small hum of appreciation. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have them in my life. As I’m thinking about my luck, Marc walks into the kitchen and smiles at me as he walks up to me and wraps his arms around me his hands running down my back.

“Hey Gorgeous, How you doing?” He asks as he leans in and kissed my cheek.

“I’m doing just fine handsome, even better now that you’re here.” I replied my hands caressing his chest a smile on my face. He lets out a playful growl.

“You look Delicious baby.” He muttered in my ear, I let out a giggle.

“Marc, are you teasing our girl over there?” Layla said in a teasing voice as she reentered the kitchen.

“Just a little, I think she likes it though.” He leans over and gives Layla a peck on the cheek as well. She chuckles before going back to putting away groceries. Marc focuses back on me. His hands resting on my hips as he pulls me in closer to him, looking at me with that look he gives me, like I had descended from heaven to be his personal angel, like I was the most precious gem in the world. I just gave him a smile.

~

The second date was Marc. He had gone pretty traditional all things concerned. Dinner and a movie. We were sitting down for dinner in a nice steak house. I fidgeted with the sleeve of my cardigan as I looked at Marc, He had dressed up for the occasion, Not as dressed up as Jake was, but I think Jake wore formal wear every day for fun. Marc, is wearing a nice sweater, I don’t know he owned a sweater.

“Did Layla make you wear that?” I asked with a laugh

“Not exactly, I wanted to look nice for you, Layla did buy the sweater for me to wear tonight.” He smiles as he says this, and this is the first time I would see the look I would come to know. It made my heart skip a beat. “You have the most beautiful…everything”

“You’re really too much.” I say feeling the heat on my cheek as I blush from the complement.

“Just telling the truth. You’re beautiful, gorgeous, enchanting…I could keep going.” He looks at me with a grin on his face.

“You’re pretty good looking yourself, Spector.” I laughed. After we ordered our food Marc reached across the table and took my hand, his thumb running across my knuckles, his eyes trained on mine.

“Do you think about…where we’re going with this?” He asks. “With us?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Every day, ever since you guys asked me out.”

“And what do you think about it…About us?” the way he looked when he asked this, I could tell he was nervous, he held my hand slightly tighter.

“I think, it think it will be good. I know I still have to meet Steven and go on my date with Layla but it would take something drastic to make me think this won’t work out.” I squeezed his hand back and tried to give him a reassuring smile. His dark eyes conveyed the relief he felt, Looking into his eyes was like looking into his soul, I felt like I could read his every thought in them.

“Good to know…I’m just really glad we decided to do this.”

“Me too”

~

“Hey, you still in there?” Marc chuckled bringing me back to the present.

“Yeah sorry just thinking.”

“Careful you don’t hurt yourself.” He smiles as he caressed my face, those dark eyes telling me everything.

After the groceries were put away we all cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. My turn to choose so of course I had to continue their education on classic movies with a viewing of Sabrina with Humphry Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. My head resting on Marc’s shoulder, Layla has pulled my legs in her lap as the two of them hold hands across the back of the couch. We had fallen into the pattern of domestic life that was perfect, occasionally interrupted by a specific god of vengeance.

“Wait, I don’t get it, why would she be pining over David when Linus is right there?” Layla gestures at the TV.

“I think its David’s Boyish charm that draws her in” I replied.

“I think shes blind, I mean Humphry Bogart…come on!” Layla exclaims and I laughed

“I think the whole thing is ridiculous.” Marc snidely remarks.

“Hey we watched that terrible action movie last week. You can watch a classic romance this week.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes it was” Layla and I say at the same time causing us both to start laughing. I don’t know exactly what I did to deserve this life. But I know I’m happy here.

~

Masterlist

Chapter 3

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader #fluff #steven grant x reader #polyamory #poly representation #moon knight system #moon boys #layla el faouly #Spotify #steven grant

[justafanficwriter]

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

—

➾ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @dindjarindiaries

Pairing[s] : Din Djarin [The Mandalorian] & Foundling!Reader [Gender Neutral]

Summary : When the streets of Nevarro can no longer satisfy your desires for adventure and belonging, you run headfirst into the Mandalorian — taking you on a journey that will change the two of you forever.

—

➾ 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @dumbbitchenergy17

Pairing[s] : Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Summary : A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

—

➾ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @80pairsofcrocs

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant x [Platonic] Reader, Marc Spector x [Platonic] Reader, Jake Lockley x [Platonic] Reader, & Khonshu x [Platonic] Reader

Summary : In which a schizophrenic teenager could see a certain god.

—

➾ 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @yikesitskennawrites

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant x [Platonic] Reader, Marc Spector x [Platonic] Reader, Jake Lockley x [Platonic] Reader, & Layla El Faouly x [Platonic] Reader

Summary : You moved to London after you came back from the blip a year ago. You moved for a new change and a fresh start. Everything was going swell until you nearly get mugged and your strange neighbor is the one to save you. Now, you have the opportunity to learn about the man who has peaked your interest over the past couple of weeks; you’re going to do exactly that.

—

➾ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠]

➤ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐲 : @l3m0ncyan

Pairing[s] : Steven Grant / Marc Spector x Hispanic!Teen!Reader

Summary : Moving from California to London in order to attend her dream school, Y/N L/N has to get used to the different climate and culture. Thinking it would only be her against the city, her across-the-hall neighbor helps her not only unlock her door but to get used to England. With things seeming well, a huge turn in both their lives happens and new secrets come out. Also, now it turns out Y/N has to help her neighbor save the world with the help of a moon god.

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #marc spector x teen!reader #layal el faouly x teen!reader #jake lockley x teen!reader #khonshu x teen!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #the mandalorian x teen!reader

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 64

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : THERE IS NO MORE SCHEDULE, IM SORRY also thank you all sm for the support and requests :)))

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

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, layla el faouly x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, violence, language, angst, kinda rushed? angst, more angst, yelling, mentions of past child abuse, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

you were sat at the table in the kitchen the next morning while slowly picking at a muffin steven had made earlier.

marc sat across from you, and layla had left earlier as well.

it was silent. too silent. you could hear every drop of rain that fell on the ground a couple stories down.

that was until you decided to speak up.

"so... am i still grounded?" you ask uncomfortably.

marc sighs a runs a hand through his hair. "yes. but.. for less time. and i know this will.. absolutely break your heart but.. but..... oh motherfu- jake you do it"

"no"

"darling listen.." steven takes over. "we decided as a group.. and your mother and even khonshu agrees but... we've decided that you won't be able to be arachnid until you're eighteen.." your heart drops at stevens sentence.

"what..?" you ask shakily and marc sighs.

"i know it's hard to hear, but we really mean it this time. we can't have you out there getting hurt-"

"but you do it all the time!" you interrupt. "jake knows how important it is to me- he agrees that i should have freedom! right jake?" you look to him in the mirror and he gives you a sad look.

"wha- jake?! you too?! seriously- i- you've seen what i can do- i-" you cut yourself off, tearing up and putting your head in your hands, allows resting on the table.

steven sighs sadly. "it's okay darling, we're sorry but- you need to focus on your school work, i mean it's the beginning of march and you're failing almost all your classes! you haven't even been in school all too much either!" he raises his voice and you look up at him.

"you can't do this- it doesn't matter if i graduate i don't even know what i'm going to do in life- all i have are these stupid powers!" you tell back at him and a stern look takes over stevens face.

"no, you listen. you need to graduate, i'm not letting you throw your life away-"

"why not?! you're already taking away everything else!" you cut him off again.

steven scoffs, which is something unlike him to do. "excuse me? we are taking away one thing- and it hurts you don't you understand? it's gotten you kidnapped!" he raises his voice another notch.

you groan out of annoyance. "steven just stop- im not giving this up, i can't" you start. "there's people out there that need my help-"

"they have us, kid" marc says and you look to the mirror where he looks at you. "you aren't invincible! you're just a kid, you shouldn't be out there risking your life-"

"neither should you! what if one day khonshu can't heal you?! what- what if one day i just sit here like an idiot waiting for you to come home and you never do?!" you stand up from your seat.

"y/n we will always come home- but you however are young and inexperienced. you are more likely to die out there than we are" steven answers. "we can't lose you. we are doing this because we love you, i need you to understand that" he quiets his voice and you sigh, sitting back down.

"but that's why i-" you're interrupted by khonshu appearing in a thick fog before he turns to steven.

"we must go!" he shouts and you look to steven in a panic.

"no! i- i just got back-"

"darling listen, we will continue this when we get back but you have to promise me you'll stay here-"

"don't just leave! what's wrong with you?!-"

"casper is coming over to make sure you stay put- now we really have to go-" steven  continues to talk over you while his suit forms onto his body.

"steven this isn't fair-"

"don't talk to me about 'fair', now i love you, just stay here" steven days before leaving out the window, making you stare with wide eyes at all that just happened.

"great job 'dad'. sending my fucking boyfriend to come babysit me" you mutter under your breath as you speed walk to your room and slam the door shut, falling onto your bed face first.

that's when you immediately hear a knock at the front door and you groan out of annoyance.

"yeah okay- can't even get a fucking minute of peace" you mumble, swinging your door open to march to the front door.

you open it to see casper with a sad smile on his face. "are you okay?" he asks quietly and you sigh, dragging him in by his sleeve and shutting the door.

"i'm fine. it's not like you came here just to babysit me" you say sarcastically and sit down on the couch with your arms crossed.

casper sighs and goes to sit next to you. "i came here to make sure you're okay. and because i love you" he says honestly, and you look over to him.

"and to make sure i don't leave" you add and he shakes his head.

"even i know that i couldn't stop you if you really wanted to leave" he says and you nod. "that's true-"

"but you wouldn't. i can tell how exhausted you are right now" casper tells you and you look away, biting the inside of your cheek.

"i'm not even-"

"come on, marc told me everything that happened. have you even tried to sleep since then?" he asks and you stay quiet.

casper sighs and stands up in front of you, offering you a hand. "come on" is all he says before you take his hand.

he takes you to your room and pulls the blanket back on your bed.

you get the message and sit down, looking up at casper as he slips his shoes off before joining you.

"just get some sleep, okay? i'm worried about you" he pushes you down so that your head hits your pillow.

"i'm really not in the mood to sleep right now-" you try sitting back up and casper moves behind you to put his arms around your waist, keeping you from sitting up.

"casper-"

"you're not getting out of this and i'm not leaving until you fall asleep"

"how about you just don't leave at all"

"deal"

you smile to yourself before turning around in casper's arms to face him.

"and for the record, i love you too" you lean to press a kiss to casper's lips before burying your face in his neck.

casper sighs in content and hugs you closer, feeling almost just as tired as you were.

i'm not even two minutes both of you were fast asleep in each others arms, not a care in the world about anything that has ever happened.

meanwhile a few hours later you were still asleep, but in a different position.

you were on your back, head to the side while casper was still hugging your waist but with his face buried in your stomach.

and that's what jake had come home to.

he smiles as and shook his head before closing your door and quietly cleaning up the dried blood on his face.

it wasn't his by the way.

another hour passed and marc was extremely stressed about how tense them and you were before they left, and was almost scared of the next conversation you were going to have once you woke up.

he heard your door open a moment later and thought the worst.

that was until he realized it was casper and not you. he unknowingly let out a sigh of relief as casper approached him.

"how was she?" marc asks quietly and casper sits down next to him.

"justifiably angry" he starts. "i know that she understands why you're taking away arachnid, but it is a part of her now" he explains and marc sighs.

"i know but she's my kid.. she should be focusing on school, not listening to the news and going out to risk her life everyday" marc rants and casper nods.

"i miss her" casper confesses. "the real y/n. she used to try, like actually try. she had a job, and she tried her hardest in school but now.. she's changed so much" he takes a breath. "and i get that she's been going through things lately, like being kidnapped and- and taken by the police but- i need her back" he looks tearfully to marc, who gives him a concerned look.

"i can't let her destroy herself, i just can't" casper hides his tears behind his hands. "i love her marc. i would do anything to make her happy again"

marc puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "i.. i know how that feels" he starts. "i'm glad she found someone like you.. and i hate that i just admitted that" casper smiles slightly at marc's comment and wiped his tears away.

"thank you, sir"

"call me marc.. you've earned it" marc mumbles and casper nods before marc furrows his brows in thought.

and that was when jake fronted, and casper noticed a change.

"you guys didn't actually have sex did you?" jake questions and casper quickly shakes his head

"no- no. we didn't..." he says.

"but?" jake adds and casper sighs.

"she.. she tried to get something started and i could tell she didn't want it" casper starts. "i.. i stopped her before anything actually happened.."

jake looks down at the ground. "..are you both okay?" he asks and casper nods.

"yeah, i.. i know she wasn't in the right headspace.... and i knew she was hurting" he finishes and jake nods.

"thank you"

casper looks confused. "for what? i just did the right thing- anybody would've done it-"

"no i.. we thank you for protecting her. even though she's technically a 'superhero' she still needs someone" jake starts. "someone like you" he admits and casper smiles slightly.

he's about to say something when you come wandering out, yawning and wiping away the tear stains from your cheeks.

nobody said anything. you just stood looking at them.

"you guys were talking about me.. weren't you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"all good things" casper tells you. he thought that one little lie couldn't hurt, as long as you didn't use all your energy up again from crying and being overall angry.

"does this mean you have to go home?" you ask him, not even bothering to acknowledge jake.

casper sighs. "i believe it does.. but we will see each other at school tomorrow, and i can help you get caught up" he offers while standing up.

you simply nod and tiredly walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him waist in a hug.

casper hugs you back and when you let go he heads to the door.

"i'll see you tomorrow, y/n. take care of yourself for me" he says before leaving.

you stare at the door for a moment before looking hesitantly at jake.

there was an awkward silence before either of you said anything.

"are you still mad at us?" jake asks which earns a scoff from marc at his bad choice in starting a conversation.

you furrow your brows and cross your arms in front of your chest. "what do you think, dip shit?" you retort and jake stands up with his hands on his hips.

"disculpe?" jake responds and you look away from him with a shake of your head.

"hey- look at me when i'm talking to you" he says sternly so with attitude, you look back at jake, who seemed to switch.

"don't call him that" steven starts, taking his hands off his hips to put them in his sweaters pockets. "you don't get to swear at us like that-"

"yeah? but what stopped me before?" you interrupt and steven takes a deep breath.

"don't interrupt me, and when you did it before it wasn't to hurt us- you better apologize to him or so help me-"

"so help you what? what are you going to do? send my boyfriend back here to babysit me while you go fuck around in your stupid suit?" you start angrily. "how about taking my phone- oh wait! you already have! god knows when i'll fucking get it back!"

"you watch your tone-"

"i'm not finished 'steven'" you say his name as if it's a curse in your mouth. "bet you're regretting adopting me now, huh? it's all been shits and giggles up until you took everything away from me! first my phone- and- and then arachnid- what's next?! are you going to starve me?! resort to beating me, because i damn well deserve it!"

stevens eyes widen at your words and the fact that your angrily yelling at him, marc and jake are just as shocked but can't find anything to possibly say.

"why did you even adopt me?! why bother trying- you've never been around kids before- and marc's had a bunch of trauma associated with it so why?!" you yell in stevens face and he hesitates in putting a hand on each of your shoulders.

"listen. we love you y/n, please just tell us why you're so worked up" he offers quietly and calmly and you stare up at him confused.

"..what...- you- answer my damn question!" you shove his hands off you you.

"we adopted you because we all saw part of ourselves in you.." steven starts.

that's when marc fronted. it was getting to be a bit too much for steven.

"even before jake.. me and steven both saw a part of ourselves in you. and you were hurting. you were overworked with school and your job, and you were being bullied at school- we had to at least help you" he starts and you calm down enough to listen.

"we.. grew attached. we became protective over you because we saw you as our kid. i have always had trouble expressing.. feelings... and so have you now please, please just tell us what's bothering you" he takes a breath. "please baby, i know you're hurting just tell us how we can help you" his voice breaks at the end of his sentence and you look down at the ground.

it's silent for a minute while you try and hold back tears.

"i.. if i can't help then what's the point..?" you start slowly, still staring at the floor. "i don't want to just sit here and do nothing... nobody else knows what's going on out there with harrow- and- and all that shit- i just want to stop it. it's my fault" you take a deep breath.

"i should've died out there where my mother left me.." you manage to rasp out before marc looks at you in absolute terror.

he moves his hands to each side of your face to lift your head up so he could look you in the eyes.

"don't you ever say that again, you hear me? nothing is your fault- and we're sorry for being so hard on you when you got home but you need to learn. you need to have a life outside arachnid, where you can get a job you love- maybe have a family of your own one day but you can't do that it you're constantly being hurt physically and emotionally" he pauses. "you need a break"

you don't say anything but your eyes gather with tears as you take in a shaky breath.

"..i'm sorry...." you manage to squeak out before tumbling into full blown sobs.

"i'm so sorry- i didn't mean to yell at you guys! i know why you do these things and i shouldn't take my anger out on you it's not fair! i'm sorry- i'm so so sorry-!" you get pulled into marc's chest, and your arms fall around his shoulders as you cry your heart out into his shirt.

"shh.. it's okay, we know you. we know you don't mean those things-"

"no marc you don't understand! i've been a horrible person to you guys and you didn't even do anything-"

"no. stop thinking like that, okay? i only want to hear you say good things about yourself, none of this self deprecating bullshit" marc rubs your back as you calm down, and you refuse to look up at him.

"i'm sorry.." you wipe your face. "stevens suit isn't stupid.. it's great" you sniff.

"it's okay darling, are you feeling better?" steven speaks up through the mirror on the wall.

"i shouldn't have yelled at you.." you say quietly, and wipe at your wet cheeks again.

"it's alright, you were just blowing off steam.. but next time just talk to us okay?" steven requests gently and you nod.

"good, now you seriously need to eat something, you're going to pass out from exhaustion" marc says and guides you back to the kitchen table where your muffin still sits from earlier in the day.

"if you want something else-"

"no.. it's fine" you cut him off and start taking small bites of the muffin.

you eat your muffin while marc sits across from you at the table, trying to decide if he should say anything.

he overall decides to, with the help of steven and jake.

"is there anything else bothering you..?" he asks and you look up at him and nod slightly.

he tilts his head at you as if asking you to go on.

you sigh and look down at the table, specifically the empty muffin wrapper.

"i just.. i miss how we used to be. i've been a terrible girlfriend to casper too.." you voice your worries and marc sighs.

"i miss you too. you lost yourself for a while and we are all here to help you, you know that" he starts. "and don't worry about casper. that kid loves you so much, i've seen it"

you look up at him and nod, slowly standing up from your chair, making marc do the same.

you slowly walk over to him to snake your arms around his waist and rest your forehead on his chest.

marc gently puts a hand around the back of your head and the other around your shoulder.

"it's okay. you'll be okay, kid" he tells you, which makes you tear up again.

you stood there with him for what felt like hours, and he didn't mind one bit.

steven and jake let him have this moment with you, letting him hold you while you calmed yourself.

who knows what the future would bring from here?

would you turn yourself around? would you go back to being an angst teenager?

but more importantly, would you lose someone close to you..?

i guess we won't know until later.

much later.

you thought this was going to be the end of this little chapter of your life didn't you?

tsk. you should know me better than that by now-

anyways, now, you're doing much better. it was now middle of april and you've gotten your grades up to C's, you get your phone for the day, and your dads take it at night and charge it in the kitchen.

your cats are no longer kittens, they have matured to the point where they fight for a spot on your bed, and whoever loses has to usually sleep with marc.

you'd gone on a couple dates with casper, who had gotten his first job at an ice cream parlor about 5 minutes away from his house.

so of course, he had to spoil you and take you to a fancy restaurant.

with a live quartet too. he wore the nicest clothes he had, and you did as well.

layla lent you an old dress of hers for the occasion, it was dark red with gold accents around the trim.

casper thought you crash landed there from heaven that night.

now back to present day, casper was walking you home from school while you fidgeted with your phone.

casper noticed the nervous tick, so he spoke up. "hey, you feeling alright?" he asks and you nod slightly.

"yeah.. just.. evie asked me to go to a party with her tonight and i'm nervous to ask my dads" you voice your worries and casper hums.

"well the worst they can do is say no" he points out and you turn your head to smile at him.

"i know. i guess i just needed reassurance, so thank you" you say kindly and casper opens the door to your apartment building for you.

"it's no problem. do you want me to come up with you?" he asks.

"no, that's okay. you should get home and get your brace off, i know it's been itching lately" you offer and casper chuckles.

"well i'll see you tomorrow then" he smiles.

you nod and lean in to give him a quick peck on the lips before backing up to the elevator.

"i love you, see you tomorrow" you smile and he waves before leaving.

you get a bit nervous in the elevator, watching the numbers rise as you reach your floor.

'the worst they can do is say no' you chant in your head before unlocking the door.

you walk in and leave your bag by the door while steven made tea at the stove.

"hey darling, how was school?" he turns to you for a second with a grin.

"it was good.." you say and steven turns to you with a confused look on his face.

"and..?" he asks and you fidget with your fingers before looking up at him.

"evie invited me to a party tonight.." you say quietly and steven looks over to the mirror on the wall.

"but it's fine if you want me to stay here i understand-"

"how much homework do you have?" marc asks and you blink a few times before answering.

"casper helped me finish it all during lunch"

marc sighs before nodding to steven.

"you can.. you can be out until 11 at the latest. and we will drive you there and back. you're lucky it's a weekend" he jokes and you smile at him.

"you mean it? i can go?" you ask excitedly.

steven nods. "you've been doing better, i think.. we think it'll be a nice reward for you, to keep you motivated, you know?"

"thank you!" you rush to hug steven and both marc and jake smile at you through the mirror.

steven reluctantly pulls away as jake speaks up. "now go clean your room"

"okay!- thanks dads!" you yell as you run to your room to begin cleaning.

i mean, what's the harm in letting you go to a party with your friend?

you've pulled yourself together and began focusing on school and your relationships with your loved ones.

you were finally you again.

what could possibly go wrong?

~~~

A/N : omg this took way too long, but IM BACK!! i have more time to write now and im back in my baby scarab mindset lol. hope you enjoyed, and ill see you later!!

~~~

taglist ---

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

#x reader #marc spector #steven with a v #steven #marc spector x reader #moon knight #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x teen!reader #jake lockely x reader #moonknight x y/n #marvel x teen!reader #khonshu x teen!reader #moon knight x teen!reader #x y/n #x you #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #mr knight x reader #steven grant x reader #baby scarab

[fluffyprettykitty]

Summer sleepover

running from august 21st to august 23rd

We are celebrating life & anything good in it ☺️ and the reward is a drabble sleepover! Ilysm all and sending good and summery vibes of peace of love to you all year round!

As I had promised in the past we will use the same format as the 1.8 wlw sleepover to help me write my drabbles! What will you do is mix and match a character or several with one or several of the following categories provided.

⋆ Polyamorous ships are always encouraged. No platonic or daughter! reader though.

⋆ Darker themes are welcomed to my discretion. Check my requests page for what I'm comfortable with.

⋆ Please only use a character from the ones already provided. The same goes for all the categories.

⋆ I will either turn them into blurbs or drabbles depending on my inspiration but you can suggest to me what it should be.

⋆ I will do female reader for smut prompts and gender-neutral for fluff prompts. All will be written vague and over 21.

⋆ You can request up to three times.

⋆ You have to be strictly 18+ to participate.

⋆ The time frame is reserved for requests, I will write them and publish them as I see fit aka I don't want to post too much.

characters: Jack Russell, Cassian Andor, Poe Dameron, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Thor Odinson, Gamora, Brock Rumlow, Layla El Faouly, Elektra Natchios, Bruce Banner, Marc Spector, Brunnhilde, Yelena Belova, Monica Rambeau, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Jane Foster, Kate Bishop.

aus: apocalypse, bakery, book store, brothel, celebrity, clone, detective, ghost, restaurant, porn star, tutor, maid, mechanic, mermaid, neighbor, stripper, yandere, werewolf, vampire.

kinks: latex, breath play, cockwarming, phone sex, gloves, choking, strip tease, uniform/suit, deep throating, titty fucking, squirting, dirty talk, sex toys, accidental stimulation, collaring, shower, sensory deprivation, somnophilia, lingerie, object insertion, lap dance, period sex, lactation, temperature play, edging, spanking, exhibitionism, handcuffs, clothes on, moresomes.

date ideas: day trip, road trip, library, museum, restaurant, camping, beach, drinks/bar, concert, walking, sightseeing, boat ride, dancing, spa, errands, mattress shopping, shopping spree, cinema, coffee, abandoned places, photoshoot.

domestic situations: trying new recipes, competitive games, painting nails, reading, cuddling, clothes shopping, packing for a trip, laundry, saying goodbye at the door, repairing things, changing bedsheets, exercising together, ordering takeout, bathing a pet, falling asleep, waking them up, complaining about family, movie nights, doing dishes.

☆ Just combine as many as you want however you see fit! And of course, when it comes to domestic situations and date ideas you can think of other things or be more specific on one situation! ☆

No pressure tagging: @that-sarcastic-writer, @tarrenterror25, @stargirlfics, @bvckysmoon @aphrogeneias @inklore @alohastyles-x @moonlight-prose @sunflowersteves @flordeamatista @e-dubbc11 @saradika @tom-whore-dleston

#selenes sleepovers #summer sleepover

[worstamongequals]

What Can I Do

— That is the absolute last thing you need right now. Layla gently holding your face with her left hand, drawing soft lines to accentuate your eyes with her right, all while staring right at you with her lips slightly parted as she concentrates. No, no, absolutely not.

Layla El-Faouly x AFAB Reader

Warnings: swearing, smut‼️, oral, fingering, face riding, sharing a vibrator, infidelity (wedding day confessions; i don’t condone cheating ofc)

Word count: 3286

An AU where Layla and Marc’s wedding is set to happen after they get back from Cairo. You’ve been in love with Layla for forever, and as you get ready for her big day, she asks you why you’re not happy for her and Marc.

That night, you lay awake. Memories of her filled your mind and nothing you did could put them to bed. Layla, your wonderful, beautiful friend, is getting married tomorrow.

Today, you groaned, rolling onto your side and glancing at the green glow of the digital clock on your bedside table. 3:39 AM. She’s getting married today.

“To Marc.” You muttered aloud. “Fucker.”

Your mind wandered back to three years ago when she’d first suggested you get an apartment together. You were hesitant, but she couldn’t be more excited to be sharing a space with you. Her best friend! Her excitement dashed all the doubts in your mind, how could you tell her no? Shortly after you both had moved in was when she learned how terrified you were of horror movies. By the time It was over, you were begging to sleep in her bed. Your tone was joking, but she could tell you meant it, especially after you stuck your arm into the bathroom to turn on the light before going in, and again when you ran out of the room after turning the light off.

“Fine,” She had huffed playfully. “Just this once.” But then the next week, she suggested watching It Chapter 2. And the week after that, The Shining. And then one of the Saw movies. You couldn’t get that fucking puppet on the tricycle out of your head, and most nights, you found yourself crawling into her bed.

Your chest felt hollow as you remembered how warm and inviting the bed, and Layla, had been.

Layla had talked to you a couple days ago to confirm that you’d be there today, and you’d said yes without hesitation. But now… You weren't sure you’d even make it past doing your hair and getting dressed. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep and wake up too late to attend the wedding.

Layla, Layla, Layla.

Her name swirled in your mind, memories of her clear as photographs.

Layla pulling you onto a crowded dance floor, and with your body pressed against hers, you finally admit to yourself that you didn’t want to be just a friend to her.

The time someone mistook the two of you for a couple, referring to you as her girlfriend, and Layla didn’t correct them. Your heart swelled. It was around this time that you’d begun to convince yourself that you could do it; you could tell Layla everything. The thought of doing this didn’t seem so impossible now, and you’d started to feel like the reward greatly outweighed the risk. It would be so fucking worth it.

And back then, it felt so easy.

Layla had been begging you to go to the beach with her and after a few weeks of her relentlessly hounding you about it, you got some time off work, the two of you loaded the car up with all the standard beach necessities and drove off. She was driving, as usual. Layla was the safest driver you knew, both hands always on the wheel, never taking her eyes off the road. This gave you multiple opportunities to steal glimpses of her out of the corner of your eye. You loved when Layla drove. The energy in the car that day felt different and you had convinced yourself that Layla just knew what you were about to confess. You would tell her when you got to the beach. She pulled into a parking spot that was shaded from the sun by a large tree with drooping branches and the two of you took off your seat belts. Layla now had one arm resting on the center console and was using her other hand to check her makeup in the mirror. You took an imperceptibly (you hoped) deep breath, and gently placed a hand on her arm. “Layla?”

“Hm?” She turned to look at you.

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a sharp buzz. Layla’s phone lit up, and so did her face. “Who’s that?” You asked, your confidence plummeting.

“I started talking to this guy, Marc,” Her gaze slid away from her screen and she met your eyes. “He’s nice.”

“Oh,” You plastered a smile on your face. “Good!”

“Yeah,” She shot you a small smile. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.”

And then Layla started bringing Marc around and you could hardly contain your jealousy, which made you feel awful when you realized that if you’d met under different circumstances, you and Marc probably would’ve gotten on really well. When Marc disappeared without warning, you felt guilty that your first thought was “Finally!” while Layla was devastated.

The guilt didn’t last long, though. He came back. Or rather, Layla found him. And she was upset, of course, but he explained himself away in that Marc-y way of his and things were pretty much back to normal. You didn’t know what happened in Cairo but it must’ve been pretty great for Layla to come back with an engagement ring on her finger.

Fuck Marc.

***

For five full seconds after you wake up, you are blissfully unaware of what the day will bring.

But then you remember.

And then you wish it was socially acceptable to miss your best friend’s wedding. Although… it was just going to be Marc, Layla, you, and Frenchie at a courthouse. It wasn’t like you’d be skipping out on a gigantic wedding party. Maybe society would be more forgiving in this case.

“Morning,” Layla walked sleepily into your room and plopped down onto your bed.

Beautiful as ever, in spite of the morning breath. Maybe a hint of apprehension on her face? But that was probably wishful thinking. “You look tired.”

“Wow, just what every girl wants to hear,” She grinned. “You don’t look so great either.”

You threw your arm across your forehead, covering your eyes. You must look like shit. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Cold feet? Maids of honor don’t normally get those.”

“Nah,” You said coolly. “What about you?”

“Couldn’t sleep either.”

“Ah, maybe you’re the one with cold feet?”

Layla shifted uncomfortably, averting her gaze. “We should start getting ready.”

“Mhm.” You sat up and let Layla take your hand and pull you out of bed.

The two of you took your time getting ready. Layla, you assumed, was moving slowly to make sure she looked perfect. Which wasn’t hard. Even before you’d had feelings for her, you knew she was gorgeous. You, on the other hand, were dragging your feet through the entire process. Anything to delay the inevitable.

“Want me to do your eyeliner?”

You gulped. “N-no.”

That is the absolute last thing you need right now. Layla gently holding your face with her left hand, drawing soft lines to accentuate your eyes with her right, all while staring right at you with her lips slightly parted as she concentrates. No, no, absolutely not.

“Why not?!” Layla turned away from the mirror and faced you, liquid liner in hand. “You look great with it!”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night, I might rub my eyes and ruin it.”

“You’ll be fine.” You’re sitting on a stool and she steps between your legs, lifting your chin and bringing the felt tip of the pen to your face. You worry, irrationally, that when she stands this close to you, Layla can see every (extremely gay) thought running through your mind.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs.

You’re looking anywhere but her face. “Mhm.”

“I know you’re not, um, excited, about today. About the wedding.”

The way she talks about her wedding as if it isn’t her own strikes you as odd.

“Is there a particular reason why?”

“No, Layla, I swear I’m just really tired, I think I need a new mattress-”

“Please,” She moves on to your other eye. “I’m genuinely asking. I want to know.”

“Well…” You hesitate. She may really want to know if you think there’s something wrong with Marc, but you’re positive that the real reason you don’t want her to get married has never even crossed her mind. “I just think that Marc’s kind of a bag of shit.”

She laughed then, harder than you’d seen her laugh in a while, and you smiled. “I do! He’s cool and all, but…”

“But..?” She presses, her eyes still crinkling into a smile.

“I just, I’m so much better than him.” You tried to sound as if you were just joking. “I’m better than him and I’m awful. So that’s a low bar. And you deserve better. The best.” Anything to keep her believing that you really had no problems with the wedding or Marc. You may not want her to marry someone else, but if you didn’t have the nerve to confess your own feelings, who were you to stop her? You couldn’t be that person, ruining what was supposed to be one of the best days of her life, when you knew you weren’t brave enough to risk getting rejected after telling her how you felt about her. You would much rather sacrifice a potential lover than lose a friend.

“Yeah, you are pretty awful.” Okay, ouch. But there was a small smile on Layla’s face. “What makes you so much better than Marc?”

“Well, for one, I wouldn’t drag you to a courthouse. I’d do the whole shebang.”

“The whole shebang?”

“Yeah. You deserve a million shebangs.”

“Well, I really don’t mind a courthouse wedding–”

You cut in. “And I never would’ve left you.”

“That’s different.” Layla’s voice took on a sharp tone. “You don’t know what happened there.”

“Sorry.” You felt small all of a sudden. Maybe you’d pushed too far. “I would if you’d tell me. You haven’t told me much since you got back.”

“You have your own secrets.”

There was something in her eyes when she said that. Something knowing. And still, you felt the urge to lie.

“I don’t. You’re my best friend, I tell you everything.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then tell me the truth,” She looked at you in a way that was soft and sharp all at once. “Why don’t you want Marc to be with me?”

You frowned. She had this so backwards. “It’s not that I don’t want Marc to be with you.” You sighed. “I don’t want you to be with Marc.”

“That’s the same fucking thing–”

“No,” You said quietly. “It isn’t.”

She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. For a good thirty seconds, she said nothing. “So, you…”

“Yes.” Your voice trembled.

“This whole time, you… Oh.” Layla looked down at her hands for a moment, playing with the eyeliner pen before setting it aside. “I didn’t think you thought about me like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I–”

“I never dreamed you would think of me like that. I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Now you were confused. “What?”

“I have wanted this for so long, but it didn’t seem like you felt the same, so I tried to move on,” She swallowed. “With Marc. And he’s nice, but he isn’t you. And for a little while, I thought, maybe… Maybe if you felt something for me, this would help you realize it. But then he proposed,” Layla paused and met your gaze. “And I thought that if you had any secret feelings for me, surely that would bring them to the surface. I was stupid to say yes to him, but I didn’t want to throw it all away. I was afraid to start over, he knows me so well. The only one who knows me better is, well, you.”

This… wasn’t at all what you’d expected. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but your mind was blank. It seemed to you as though no words were good enough to describe your feelings for Layla.

So you didn’t try.

You just leaned forward and kissed her. Layla’s right hand cradled you at the base of your skull and she slipped her left arm around your waist, pulling you to her until your bodies were pressed against each other. You laughed nervously as heat pooled between your thighs at the sensation.

“I’m going to talk to Marc and call the whole thing off,” Layla murmured.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do.” You whispered.

“You aren’t. I should’ve done this a long time ago. This, and,” She gripped your hips and walked you backwards until you were at your bed. “This.”

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought of this.”

“I think I have some idea.” Layla pushed you onto your back and straddled you. A shiver ran down your spine when she leaned over and began pressing soft, wet kisses to your neck, collarbone, and chest.

You slipped your hands under her shirt and ran your fingers across the band of her bra. It felt lacy and you’d never wanted to see it so badly. Layla tugged her shirt up and over her head, casting it aside, before doing the same to you. You reached up and pulled her in for another kiss and she cupped your breast in her palm. When her fingers brushed delicately over your nipple you couldn’t stop the sharp gasp from escaping your lips.

“I thought of you sometimes, when I was with him.”

She began gently pulling your shorts down your thighs. “I felt so guilty but I wanted it to be you.” Your shorts were on the floor now, and Layla was settling between your thighs. “It was never better than when I imagined you were the one doing those things to me. And now look at what I get to do to you.” You felt her warm breath on your clothed cunt when she exhaled.

“Fuck,” You whimpered.

“You want this?”

“More than you know.”

She tugged your underwear to the side. “Tell me then.” You jolted when you felt her tongue sliding into the seam of your pussy. Everything was warm and wet. You ran your fingers through her hair, gently tugging on the curls to spur her on.

“I’ve wanted you since that first night we went dancing,” Her fingers began circling your clit and you whined. “When that guy thought we were girlfriends, it sounded good.”

Layla paused, her mouth leaving you, and you bucked your hips searching for any kind of contact again. “You should’ve told me then, we could’ve done this sooner.”

“Well, fuck, Layla, I didn’t know it was that easy.” You said sarcastically, making her laugh. Her eyes were practically sparkling when she asked, “Do you want my fingers inside you?”

“Yes.” You said breathlessly. “Please.”

“So polite,” Layla’s voice sounded like something out of a dream. She watched, entranced, as her fingers sunk into your cunt. “You’re always so sweet to me.” She could feel you squeezing around her fingers as she spoke. “You like that? Hearing me talk?”

“I like everything you do with your mou-” Your words failed you when she curled her fingers into you, reaching a spot that had you seeing stars.

She put her lips back to your clit, licking and sucking in time with the way her fingers stretched you open. Your legs began to shake around her and she used her free hand to hold you in place.

Layla put her hands on your hips and dug her nails into your skin as she fucked you with her tongue, making you whine out her name. Your hips bucked involuntarily and you felt like your body was on fire. You started thrusting upward, shamelessly grinding up against Layla’s face to get more pressure.

“Easy, honey,” Layla’s voice was silky smooth. “All you have to do is tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“More,” You blurted out. “Harder.”

Layla laid down next to you and pulled you on top of her. She grabbed your waist and urged you forward until your cunt was just above her face. You could feel her warm breath every time she exhaled and you knew you must have been dripping wet. “Go as hard as you want.” You hesitated for a moment, and Layla noticed. “Go on.” She said, wrapping her arms around your thighs and gently encouraging you to sink down onto her.

You gasped when you felt her tongue on you again. She moaned into you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. You began to grind down onto her face until you found the perfect angle that had her nose rubbing against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You spoke through gritted teeth. “Layla, I’m not gonna mmph-” She dragged her nails down your back and you let out a low moan. “I’m gonna cum.” Layla hummed in response, and you almost lost it when you looked down at her. Her eyes were trained on you and she was looking at you like this was her whole purpose in life. With a cry, you started moving your hips faster, seeking the high that was almost within reach. You felt tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and then-

Nothing.

Layla lifted you off her and you whined at the loss of contact. She leaned over and reached into one of the drawers on the dresser next to your bed. Your cheeks warmed when you realized what she was looking for. “Don’t you want to finish with me?” She smiled mischievously at you, your vibrator in hand.

“That- that would be,” You swallowed hard. “Yeah. Good.”

Her laugh was music to your ears. She clicked the vibrator on and placed it between the two of you before pulling you close.

“Hi,” You had a goofy grin on your face and you felt shy, even though you’d been riding Layla’s face a few moments ago.

“Hey.” Layla’s smile was just as silly. You placed both hands at her jaw and kissed her; you could taste yourself on her. You gently sucked on her lower lip and you could feel her smiling.

Layla closed the distance between you so that vibrator was pressed up against both of you, you both moaned. Your legs began to shake as you watched her grind against the vibrator and you.

You noticed the sweat beading at her forehead, the way her arms had started to tremble. Then she met your gaze. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” She said in a teasing tone. “It feels like you’re getting close.”

And that sent you over the edge. You wrapped your arms around her waist tightly, increasing the pressure of the vibrator against the two of you. Layla let out a cry of surprise, and then of pleasure.

The look on her face as she came was almost enough to make you orgasm all over again. The two of you sat there quietly for a moment, holding onto each other until you caught your breath. You smiled at Layla warmly before going to wipe yourself off and get a warm washcloth for her. You returned seconds later and began gently cleaning her up.

“So,” You broke the silence. “Would now be a good time to tell you that I kind of have a crush on you?”

“Oh my god,” Layla rolled her eyes and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. “Really? No way.”

“Yes way! Wanna meet up after school and hug?”

She laughed and paused for a moment, before saying “I love you.” She leaned forward slightly and let her forehead rest against yours. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

You blushed. “I think I’ve probably loved you forever.”

“Silly, you haven’t known me forever.”

“Feels like it.”

#marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #mcu fic #smut #layla el faouly #scarlet scarab #layla el faouly x reader #afab reader #fem reader #layla el faouly smut #moon knight mcu #moon knight fanfic #moon knight #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #x reader #scarlet scarab smut

[moonlight-prose]

♱ BELONG TO YOU ♱

a/n: this was a fic on it's own that had been sitting unfinished in my wips folder for months. but i'm shoving it into kinktober, because it is filthy as fuck. enjoy!

day twelve - threesome + body worship | kinktober 2022

summary: a never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: marc spector x f!reader x layla el-faouly

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, threesome, body worship, cum eating, fingering, my horrible attempt at dirty talk.

He looked pretty. That’s all you could remember in this situation, his question of what you thought about him when you first saw him now muddled in your mind. His hands ran down your sides, dragging you into his lap slowly and you did your best to give him an answer. What did you think about him? There were too many words to describe such a situation at a time like this. Fuck, you could barely even tell him what you wanted him to do next.

“C’mon tell me,” he cooed, head tilted back against the couch as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I—”

The words caught in your throat when a second pair of hands trailed up your back. Their touch, lighter than his and yet still prominent enough to drive you just as crazy…if not more. You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know she was smiling. Her eyes alight with mischief as she caught his gaze. They knew the effect they had and still they did this on purpose either way—drew you taut with pleasure through only their so-called innocent touches.

“What did you think of me baby?” she asked—voice barely above a whisper. It had the hair on the back of your neck standing up, eyes fluttering shut as she kissed the juncture of where your neck and shoulder met.

You whined when she pulled away, desperate to have her remain right where she was. “Please…”

He tutted, hand reaching up to wrap lightly around your throat and tilt your head to face him. “You know how to get what you want.”

The words died in the back of your throat. You wanted to shout them, tell them the truth to finally have their touch remain in the places that you needed, but you could barely form a sentence. Layla’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear, her breath washing across your cheek, sending a shudder down your spine. They were doing this on purpose. Breaking you slowly with every caress, every whispered word, because they wanted you as much as you needed them.

“I remember you telling me he was pretty,” she breathed, eyes flashing to Marc’s over your shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded quickly, choking on your stuttered breath when his hips jolted up into yours. He’d placed you on his lap in such a way that your cunt now pressed directly against the bulge in his pants. They would drag this out until you were past the point of begging—half mad with built up pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to function without their help. In a way it made you want to remain silent even more.

“You’ve gotta speak up,” Marc said. “I know you want to.”

Whimpering, you shifted in his lap, breath stuttering when Layla’s fingers began unbuttoning your top. There was no doubt in your mind that they owned you completely. That you’d die for them if asked, because you couldn’t imagine living your life without them being a part of it. The road to get here was a long one; filled with enough twists and turns to leave you dizzy.

Yet this…their touch, their love, it was all you dreamed about and more.

“C’mon baby.” His voice had turned dark, an edge to it you’d only heard when he was in the midst of a fight.

You supposed this was a fight in itself.

“Be good for us,” Layla breathed, lips ghosting along your shoulder as she stripped the shirt from your body—chills spreading rapidly down your spine with a mere brush of her breath against your skin. She knew the effect she held over your body—your being—and right now she was wielding it to her strength.

Molding you to her hands, her wants and desires. Just as Marc was doing.

“He was—oh—” Her hands dipped lower, opening the button of your pants with ease, fingers trailing along the waistband.

Marc’s hand still remained around your throat—a grin spreading across his lips as he watched you shudder with every stroke of Layla’s touch. He’d told you before that there was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing you like this. Fully pliant in their holds—nothing occupying your mind except them.

“I was what?” he asked softly, his other hand curving around your hip.

“You were pretty,” you gasped, head falling back against Layla’s shoulder as her fingers dipped into your already soaked underwear.

“Oh baby,” she cooed. You could feel her smile press against your cheek. “Is this all for us?”

Nodding, you rocked your hips forward, desperate for her touch to press even further along your cunt. She did as you wished. Spread your slick up to your clit and circling it lightly until you were shaking in her hold, chest heaving. Marc made quick work of your bra with one hand, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.

You dug your hand into his hair, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he laved his tongue over the peaked bud, tugging on it lightly with his teeth to elicit another strained sound from you. They were ruthless in their suppleness. Both exacting their pleasure on your body to drag you right where they wanted you. A never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

“So beautiful like this,” Layla murmured, biting along your jaw, her fingers speeding up along your clit and drawing sounds from you that made her head spin. “Sitting on Marc’s lap like a goddess.”

He growled against your breast, biting into the side of it with an edge that made you jolt. He knew you liked a taste of pain with your pleasure—something he found he rather sided with as well. Nothing too hard, never enough to rip you out of the daze they put you in, but perfect enough to heighten in. The tighter grip you had on his hair told him how you reacted—his lips curving into a smile.

“You’ve got a perfect body.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your neck soothingly. “You fit our hands like you were fucking made for us.”

Layla hummed in agreement, her lips pressing against yours and guiding you into a kiss that left you gasping for breath. Their praise brought you into a new kind of high—sending your body into overdrive. It was their way of driving you insane, of reminding you who loved you at the end of the day. Who was there to protect you and keep you safe. 

You never felt more at ease—more at home—than when you were in their arms.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” she whispered.

“Me first,” Marc retorted, sliding his tongue into your mouth with practiced ease. He kissed you as if he was finally breathing for the first time in ages. As if you were the only source of oxygen for the both of them.

“She’s close,” Layla said; the audible squelch of her fingers on your cunt now mixed with your panted breaths, your eyes barely open as they took what they wanted from you.

He groaned, grinding his hips up into yours and pressing Layla’s fingers even harder against your clit. That was all you needed to go tumbling off the edge with their names on your lips. She turned your head with her other hand and caught your lips in a sloppy kiss of teeth and tongue. You felt her hand fall to lay over Marc’s that still remained on your neck—both of them reminding you that you were theirs. No one else could have you, no one could take you.

Your mind whited out as pleasure shattered across your body, until the only thought in your head was of them.

“That’s it,” Marc encouraged you, his teeth digging into your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. “So perfect for both of us.”

“Our love,” Layla breathed, ceasing her movements when your hand shot down, gripping her wrist.

You barely opened your eyes long enough to see Marc lift her fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. It caused heat to curl low in your stomach, a feeling of need building up with every passing second you watched him lick her fingers clean. You wanted them again, wanted to be the one who tore pleasure from their body just as they did to you. Marc’s heated eyes met yours, a grin curving on his lips. He’d gotten a taste of the thing he craved most and now he wanted to drown in it—in you.

You’d have them both by the end of the night. This you knew for sure.

#marc spector x f!reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly smut #moon knight #kinktober 2022 #my writing

[foreverinadais]

three’s a crowd: m.k

summary: your in a loving relationship with Marc and Layla. But after a bad day, you come home to see them infatuated with each other, and begin to doubt the security in your relationship with the married pair.

warnings: angst, insecurity, language, fluff, worry between both marc and layla, Fem! reader

pairings: marc spector x fem! reader, layla el faouly x fem! reader, marc spector x layla el faouly

word count: 2054 words :) 

It had been quite possibly the worst day of your working life. How it was possible for people to be so unbelievably frustrating was beyond you. It was as if every customer had an unspoken vendetta against you, a line of people asking for ‘the manager’ or throwing snide comments your way. It didn’t help that you had a paper due in yesterday that was still sat, unfinished, on your desk.

You made the usual route back to Marc’s apartment, knowing Layla would also be there, and you felt a sense of excitement at the thought of just curling up between them and falling asleep. You loved your relationship with them all. Even though you slotted in later, it all fell into place pretty quickly, and Layla and Marc couldn’t believe you hadn’t always been with them.

You all but dragged yourself up the stairs, cursing the lift for being out of order, especially when you tripped on the last step and only caught yourself last minute. The door was in sight, and you breathed a sigh of relief, ready to throw your bag down and collapse on the bed.

But as you opened the door, the action surprisingly quiet, you heard a small laugh. Your eyes followed the melodic and familiar sound to where Marc and Layla were cuddled on the sofa, looking through a photo album of their marriage. You had no problem that they were labelled as ‘husband and wife’, although sometimes you felt a strange feeling in your stomach, not jealously, but something deeper.

Perhaps it was the sight of them there, so happy, so in love with each other, that an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over you, bringing with it an odd insecurity. It was Layla’s smile, so bright and wide as she looked at the pictures of them, not you. It was the twinkle in Marc’s eyes, maybe a longing for the past.

Soon enough, you were in a hole, dirt falling down onto you, corrupting your ability to think logically, reasonably. And then you were leaving, as silently as you came, your presence unnoticed by the pair. Your feet paced down the stairs, getting the bus back to your own flat, a place which felt less and less like home everyday thanks to the comfort your lovers’ flat brought.

You fumbled with the keys, pushed over the edge when they fell from your grasp with a harsh ‘clink!’. Tears began to well in your eyes as you finally pushed through the door, throwing your bag to the side, not even changing from your work clothes before crumbling into bed.

Perhaps it was the horrid day you’d had, or maybe the fact you were questioning your place in your relationship, or maybe it was everything else that made sobs rack your body. You buried your face in the pillow, legs wrapped in the duvet, trying to grasp for any comfort you could find. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep, cheeks tear stained and eyes no doubt puffy.

Layla glanced at the small clock on the wall, sigh leaving her lips as she turned to her husband. “It’s been an hour. Maybe she got held up at work?” They had noticed your lack of presence as soon as the time you were usually home struck. Automatically, they were leaving messages, worry settling in as the hour changed.

“She would text. Somethin’ has happened.”

“Don’t do that, Marc. I’m sure its all fine. Don’t go there in that brain of yours.” But she wasn’t trusting her own words, nervously nibbling the skin of her thumb.

“Well, tough, I’m already there. She always texts back.” This was true. You normally left messages all throughout the day, small affirmations to say that you were okay, or if you weren’t, you wouldn’t shy away from explaining why. Neither of the pair could find any reason you wouldn’t message them back. It filled them with an overwhelming sense of worry, a million uncertainties corrupting their brains. 

“Why don’t we go to her apartment? Maybe she’s popped back to get something, or maybe we’ll see her walking here.” Layla assured, forever the voice of reason. Marc nodded, exhaling slightly as he tried to fall in her words.

“Your right. Let’s go.” The pair exited the flat, not before leaving a small note explaining where they were, in case you happened to wander in whilst they were gone. It didn’t take long for them to get to your abode. Marc offered his wife a look as they got to your door, making Layla instantly run a hand down his back in an attempt to comfort his nerves. Layla was the first one to knock, confident taps against the door which would get your attention without waking up the whole complex. After a minute, however, there was no answer. Layla sighed deeply to calm her accelerating heartbeat, trying again, offering words as well this time; 

“Y/N? Are you in here, baby?” After this attempt was left to no avail, Marc took over, banging the door harder this time.

“Marc, hey, she might not be home, we don’t need to wake up the entire building!” Marc groaned, checking his phone once, before getting on his knees. “What are you-”

“She’s home.” 

“How-”“Lights are on.” He was back on his feet, knocking again, “C’mon, we know your in. Open the door.” Normally, Layla would scold him for being so stern, but now, she was feeling uncharacteristically anxious too. If you were home, why were you so blatantly ignoring them? What had they done wrong?

“We just want to know what’s wrong, Y/N/N! We’re worried about you.” Layla chimed in, her caring voice a soft contrast to Marc’s, which was bordering on anger brought on by desperation. Perhaps it was this which elected a small shuffle from behind the door. The pair looked at each other, relieved that there was sign of life, but confused as to why you were hiding away. “We know your in there, now open the door.” Marc’s sternness pushed you over the edge, and the lock was finally given life as it clicked open. Layla was the first to push open the door, instantly searching for you in the room. Marc was awfully close behind.

She spotted you sat on the sofa, hands in your lap as you fiddled with your fingers, something you only did when nervous. “Hi, darling.” She whispered, going to sit by you, taking your hands in her own to stop you from your anxious fiddling. “Why didn’t you answer, hey? We were worried about you.” You looked down, almost guilty, still feeling the insecurity from earlier corrupting your insides. Marc was in less of a comforting mood, mostly feeling pissed that you had let them worry for so long. 

“Why didn’t you answer you phone, huh? Hell, we thought you could’ve been taken o-or killed, for fuck sake!” Layla shot him a look to which he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You whispered, voice coming out smaller than you intended. Layla was about to respond when you spoke again, “I understand if you want to leave me.” Both parties froze, Layla’s touch leaving yours. “What do you mean?” She said, suddenly noticing your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes in the dim lights of the room. 

“Why would we want to leave you?” You sniffled, trying to find the words through your insecurities and emotions. It was the sound of your name from Marc that made them spill out, all at once.

“Because you have each other! Your married and I-I just intruded on your relationship and that’s unfair of me, and I know your better off with just each other cause ‘three’s a crowd’ an’ all that, and I just… I understand why you would want to leave me.” Layla could hardly find the words to respond to your words, a sour feeling in her mouth, her stomach, rising like bile or acid. Marc, however, was overcome with guilt, detest that they could ever make you feel like this. 

“Why…” Layla started, trying to calm her shaky tone, “What made you feel like this?” Your heart cracked at her voice, furthering the newfound hatred for yourself, that you had made her feel like this.

“Earlier. I, urh, I came by and saw you together, and you looked… looked so in love and it made me feel…” You cut yourself off with a cough, trying to contain the sobs rising in your throat. Marc’s expression was almost unreadable as he looked from you to Layla, who had tears brimming her eyes. He wanted to shout, not at you, but at himself for ever making you feel anything other than unconditionally loved. 

Before he knew it, he was kneeling in front of where you were sat. His fingers were almost scared to touch you, as if you were an ethereal, delicate being. Then, reason took over, and one of your hands was in his. Layla followed suite, taking your other in hers, so you were encased by their concern, but more, their love.

“Hey, look here.” His tone forced you to look into his eyes, clouded with emotion, complex as they always were, “It was stupid of you to run away.”

“Marc-” Layla warned at her husband’s method of comfort, but he wasn’t finished.

“Because if you stayed, you would’ve seen how much we fucking missed you. How much we need you. You’re the missing piece, yeah? What we’ve always needed.” You felt a tear run down your cheek, but Marc’s thumb was faster, swiping it off your cheek and leaving his touch there in a comforting motion. “Your our world, honey. And if we ever made you feel less than that- the fact we made you feel less than that-” Layla, too, let a tear fall and you felt unbelievably guilty that your let your insecurity overcome you. You grabbed her hand in your own, bringing it up to your lips to kiss the skin. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise.” Marc stopped you, and Layla agreed, “Never say sorry for having emotions, okay? You taught me that.” He smiled comfortingly, lovingly, and it made you nod, his words finally meeting your ears. “We both love you, baby, and we will spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, okay?” When you didn’t respond, he tried again, lifting your face up with his fingers lightly, “Okay?”

You finally nod, sniffling, whispering an ‘okay’ and ‘love you both back’. Layla kissed your cheek, right next to where Marc’s thumb was, and your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in their touch.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we, my darling?” Layla asked, and you nodded, not finding it in you to talk. Both of them guided you to your bed, offering a smile to each other as they did so. You were already drifting off when your head hit the pillow, Marc’s hands manoeuvring you under the duvet, making sure you were comfortable. The two followed suite, Layla’s head resting on your shoulder, placing soft, small kisses to your neck as Marc rested his head on your own, the tips of his fingers tracing down the flesh of your arm. Both of them were whispering affirmations of their love for you as you fell into sleep, feeling comforted, secure, for the first time all day.

It was all you need, their touch, their words, their love; and it was all they wanted to give you. When they saw you were asleep, Layla sighed, hand reaching out to grab her husband’s over your sleeping frame. “We can never make her feel like that again, okay?” Marc softly agreed, trying to push away the feelings of guilt eating away at the both of them. The two stayed with you all night, didn’t want to let you leave the bed, even when you were back to your usual self.

Of course, you assured them you felt better, which was the truth. You eased both their guilt, confirmed your love for the both, and in return, they did the same.

Because they loved you; You were the light to both of their darkness, the person who made them feel complete- the missing piece to the puzzle of their lives.

#moon knight imagine #moon knight angst #Moon Knight #moon knight ff #marc spector angst #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfic #marc spector #layla el faouly #layla el faouly fanfiction #layla el faouly angst #layla el faouly x marc spector #layla el faouly x reader

[beautifulbows924]

For the writing bingo I think “shared ex” and “sex pollen” with Marc Spector would in really interesting. Tho if you don’t want to do it then no worries! I really enjoy your writing ❤️

I meant to answer this when I posted your request, but I forgot!

So here it is! Sunset I really hope you enjoy it! <3

#rose’s personal #asks #Moonknight #Marc Spector x Reader #Past Layla El Faouly x Reader #Moonknight x Reader #Sex Pollen

[darkened-writer]

Ours; Forevermore

Request:  Please please I NEED a fic with Layla/Marc/Reader/Steven where it's the Reader's first poly relationship and she struggles with insecurity and jealousy from past relationship trauma but Marc and Layla treat her so good and show her there's no reason to be scared of being with both of them and they're so attentive to her boundaries (and Steven is also involved and is really good at reassurance).

Pairings: Layla El-Faouly x Marc Spector x Steven Grant x Reader

Warnings: Hurt Comfort?

Word Count: 1068

A/N: Request for @empressofalderaan​ !!

          Layla and Marc Spector had never expected to ever have a fourth party in their unconventional relationship. The idea of even involving another person in the drama that was Egyptian Gods and Goddesses had scared Marc to death. Layla, however, had never expected to love another person other than Marc and Steven, but when Y/N showed up in their life, a lot of perspectives changed. 

          Multiple dates and explanations of Marc having DID, Marc, Steven, and Layla were all confident that they wanted to love Y/N as she deserved. Getting to the point of her moving in and being involved in all of the couples activities. However, with multiple people in a relationship, there also came the jealousy that snuck up on Y/N, and the insecurity following suit. 

          Y/N wasn’t open about it too much, but her previous relationship had garnered a load of insecure thoughts and feelings of inadequacy. Which, she never expected to follow her into a relationship that she, herself, loved. The thoughts occurred once she saw the love in Layla’s eyes as she looked at the two walking across Brighton beach, handing in hand, herself in tow. And, seeing Steven complimenting Layla’s outfit as she went out with friends, it had complicated her once positive thoughts. It all bubbling up to one, cloudy and rainy night.

          Gently tucking my blouse into my slacks, I peered at myself in the mirror, noting the grimace on my face as Marc, Layla, and I all were getting ready for our date night out on the town. Layla’s crimson colored dress hugging her body in all the right places, along with the black jacket she threw over it, my eyes glancing at the red lipstick laying on her lips, drawing me in. Marc, however, was buttoning up his maroon button-up, his hands moving meticulously, until Layla came over to help him, my lips curving into a frown.

          I grabbed my jacket and roughly put it on, eyes downcast as I moved past the two to grab my shoes, leaning against the couch to keep my balance. 

          “Y/N?”

          Layla was staring me down with her eyes, the feeling of inadequacy dripping into my mind.

          “Yeah, Love?”

          “Marc and I were going to take pictures before we all headed out… Come join us?”

          Marc was peering past the bookshelf, face drawn in with a look of worry. He must know I feel horrible right now, like tens of thousands of eyes were burrowing into my skull and peering at me as I thought the worst.

          “I… yeah..”

          I arose and walked over to the two, leaning over Layla’s shoulder as Marc raised the phone to capture us all in the photo. Noticing my soleum look, I raised my brows and stuck my tongue out to give a ‘silly’ look, Layla letting out a giggle that sounded melodious against the ideas being planted in my head like flowers.

          ‘Aren’t they cute? They look much better without you in their photo.’

          ‘You ruin all that you touch.’

          ‘Are you even worthy to be happy with them?’

          ‘Steven hates you, Marc hates you, Layla hates you. They.All.Hate.You.’

          “Y/N!”

          Warm, slow, and inexplicable tears ran down my cheekbones, down the creases outside my mouth, and down my chin, falling onto the wood floor with gentle plops. 

          “I…”

          There was pregnant silence before I turned on my heels and made my way to the bathroom as quickly as I could before they could speak or utter a sound, the slam of the bathroom door being the only sound I heard, other than my own cries.

          There was only silence outside the door however, as my knees buckled and the tiled floor became my best friend. With rough hands, I gripped my hair and heaved warm air, the tears becoming blinding. 

          “Love, please open the door…”

          Steven…

          “Layla and I are just confused, and Marc wanted me to… to check in on you. So, please,...-open the door.”

          “Wouldn’t it be better if you all just left me…?”

          Silence, then a response.

          “Why..Why would you think that?”

          “You-You all just look happier without me. I just drag the relationship down, make you both look-look bad.” The words were getting harder and harder to speak, my own throat betraying me as I let out another heave of air, a whimper coming out.

          “Love, Marc fell for you harder than I think anyone could fall for a person. You wanna know what he told me after you two first met? That he thought about putting a ring on your finger too.”

          I leaned my head back against the door, breathing becoming slower as he kept speaking.

          “He knew that you would have to be his, regardless of anyone or anything, he was going to love you. And, when he let me front to meet you, I finally knew all he was speaking about. Your lips, Your eyes full of wonder but full of so much pain, all the mannerisms you would do when you concentrate, which, might I say, balancing a pencil on your lips is quite the talent.”

          I chuckled, wiping some of the tears from my cheeks.

          “And, I never thought I could love anyone other than Marc and Steven.”

          Layla…

          “But, you proved me wrong. You wormed your way into my heart, and there is never a moment where I regret falling in love with you. So, never feel as though we’d be better without you. Because, we need you now, and there is no way you’re getting rid of us now.”

          “No stinkin’ way!”

          A laugh now exiting me, I lifted my hand up and unlocked the door, cracking it open to peer up at Steven and Layla, their gaze down on me with sympathy and love.

          “Only you two could make me laugh when I’m sad…”

          The two laughed and leaned down to hug me, feeling a pair of lips on my head, I let out a shaky breath.

          “I’m sorry… I just…”

          “No need to explain yourself, Love, we don’t have to go out tonight. We can order some takeout and just watch old movies on the tellybox in our jammies. Would you like that?”

          “I’d like nothing more but to relax with you all.”

          The ring in Steven’s back pocket would have to wait another day for just the right moment.

#xreader #fanfiction #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #layla el faouly #steven grant x reader #layla el faouly x reader #moonknight x reader

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Second Best

Past!Moon Knight Trio X Reader Santiago Garcia X Reader Past!MK Trio X Layla El-Faouly If Marc had been paying closer attention, he’d have noticed you about to collide with him. The box of cereal you were carrying dropped to the floor, along with his plastic basket. Steven immediately fronted, unsure if Marc had slipped into the headspace due to shock or not. a/n:this is strictly angst fueled by my friend @gaylemonshark feedback is highly appreciated!

You had noticed Marc starting to pull away, seeming to do more missions for Khonshu more often than anything. He’d be gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time with no updates on if he were alive. It hadn’t bothered you at first, Steven would send a message letting you know how things were going, no matter how brief, they always helped put you at ease.

There were some nights you met the third alter, Jake Lockley. He’d nearly begged you not to tell the other two, and that he would in due time. So you kept your mouth shut and kept going about your daily life. But when Marc hadn’t been home for nearly two months, Steven stepping through with his phone pressed to his ear, you could feel things falling apart.

Until one day, they finally did.

“It doesn’t fucking matter! It’s not the first time I’ve had to leave in the middle of the night, why is tonight so different?” Marc was seething, hands clenched into fists by his side.

“You can’t be serious, you know exactly why tonight is different!” It’d been your anniversary, one year with the man who had two different alters.

You’re still not sure either of them know about Jake, neither Steven or Marc have said anything about him.

“You know what? I didn’t want to say this, but this? This means nothing to me,” Marc gestured between the pair of you, brow still furrowed as he stared at you.

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, unfortunately that did little to deter Marc.

“I’m still in love with Layla, hell so is Steven! This wasn’t supposed to last, you were just filling a hole until we could figure things out with her. But instead of that, you’ve practically moved yourself in, how fucking blind are you?” Marc’s words cut deep, deeper than any knife ever could.

Your eyes slowly filled with tears, the realization that you truly were not loved like you’d hoped, washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water.

Marc! What the bloody hell are you doing?!

“It’s always been Layla for me, I’ve seen the way Steven looks at her, he’s never looked at you the way he does for her. We love her,” Marc continued to ignore Steven’s angry protests, his hands shaking by his sides. “Why would I marry someone I’ve never loved? With Layla things were different, we loved one another. You? You were nothing more than a body to warm my bed at night, filling a hole until things worked out between her and I. You really think Steven loved you, with the way he’d look at her? I’d never marry someone as stupid and blindly ignorant as you. I deserve better than that.”

“Okay,” Your voice was devoid of any, and all emotion.

The tears had begun to slide down your face, dripping onto the collar of your shirt as you begged to pack the few things you’d moved into Steven’s flat.

Marc had expected you to scream, to hurl insults at him as if it were as easy as breathing. This truly terrified him. Layla would have screamed at him, demanded answers he’d refuse to give.

Give me the goddamn body! I can’t fucking believe you!

Once you had everything packed into your bag you turned back to face Marc, your eyes were blank, almost hollow as you stared at the other man. The smile that pulled up your lips didn’t reach your eyes at all.

“I’ve never been anyone's first choice, and I’ve come to terms with it. So I’m sorry for wasting your time,” You turned towards the way, gripping the bag tighter as you walked out of the flat.

Steven was still screaming at Marc, desperate to speak to you even if for only a moment. Marc was still dumbstruck, feet planted on the floor. He’d made a huge mistake. 2 Years Later Marc wasn’t entirely sure when things between him and Layla had changed, when she started to spend more time away than at home. Sure, they weren’t living together anymore, and he’d left behind the life he had with you. “I met someone, it’s been going surprisingly well for us, he makes me really happy,” Layla’s voice sounded faraway to Marc’s ears. When had his life managed to fall apart this badly? “Oh, that’s great, I’m really happy for you,” Marc had assumed things were going great between them, they’d spent nearly everyday that neither of them were busy together.

It’d been nothing but a pipe dream, a hopeful idea that Marc was worthy of being happy for once, that the things his mother said were all lies.

“I’ve already signed the papers, so you’ll need to find a lawyer,” Layla seemed almost nervous as she sipped her wine, glancing over at Marc.

“That’s fine, I’ll take a look tonight and see what I can do on short notice,” Marc’s voice had an edge of pain, and guilt.

You had always been on the back of his mind, Steven refusing to front for nearly three months while Marc picked up the pieces, lied to Layla about where he’d truly been. Gods, you both deserved so much better than Marc could ever give you.

“I’m sorry things ended this way, Marc, you know I want nothing but the best for you,” Layla frowned, placing her hand atop of his own.

Nothing mattered anymore, he’d lost everything.

Marc had nearly wanted to let Steven front, let himself be hidden from the pain and suffering he’d have to endure every time they met with their lawyers. Unfortunately Steven’s handwriting was too nice compared to Marc’s chicken scratch of a signature. So he toughed it out, met with Layla and her lawyer, Matt, each week until the decision was final. They were officially divorced in a little over six months, Layla getting the house they’d bought together while Marc packed up his things and left.

Steven didn’t mention that he’d miss working at the museum, even if Donna would get on his case over the smallest inconveniences. Marc sure as hell wasn’t going to miss it, not when he’d accidentally front during one of Steven’s shifts and have to finish the day for him.

They were working in tandem most days, switching much easier than before. They still had the occasional blackout, unsure of what was happening to the other. Knuckles bruised, skin torn enough to show the tendons and muscle beneath the layers.

“Maybe I should see a therapist, then again they’d probably think I was insane for even trying to mention you,” Marc muttered to his reflection.

Steven stared back at him, a frown pulling down his face as he struggled to figure out how to approach the subject. How did someone who couldn’t physically comfort someone, truly comfort them?

“People suffer from our condition Marc, they wouldn’t think you’re crazy at all,” Steven said, shrugging his shoulders as he watched Marc pace around the apartment.

“Steven, just drop it for now, I have to go grocery shopping since someone didn’t do it when I asked,” Marc glared over at the mirror once more.

The duo had a schedule they stuck to almost religiously, it was easier than fighting over who took care of what chore. Well that was before Jake showed up, that threw a wrench in their plans before either alter could blink.

“I said I was going to do it tomorrow, we have plenty of food to last the night anyway,” Steven didn’t want to argue with Marc, lord knows the man was too hot headed for his own good.

Ignoring Steven entirely, Marc grabbed his coat and wallet, trudging out of the apartment with an annoyed huff.

The shop was thankfully quiet, barely anyone walking around as Marc perused the different aisles. He obviously wanted to get more vegan options for Steven, even if he himself was still eating meat. 

If Marc had been paying closer attention, he’d have noticed you about to collide with him. The box of cereal you were carrying dropped to the floor along with the plastic basket he’d been carrying. Steven immediately fronted, unsure if Marc had slipped into the headspace due to shock or not. You timidly reached down, picking up the box before someone could kick it away.

“Y/N?” Steven’s jaw dropped open, how the hell were you here? Hadn’t you gone back home to be with your family after the breakup?

“Oh, hey,” You bit your lip gently, looking over your shoulder for a brief moment before catching Steven’s gaze.

Marc had forced himself to front, to prove to himself that he could face you once more. Steven wasn’t too pleased to be put on the back burner during one of your conversations again.

“Hi, long time no see,” Marc mentally kicked himself, gods he sounded so dumb.

“That was the point, Marc, you told me I meant nothing to you, so why would I stick around?” Your voice sounded harsh even to you, it was all due to Marc’s ignorance.

“Look, I messed up, I know that now. Is there anywhere we could talk?” It was a shot in the dark, a sliver of hope that he’d hold onto for the rest of his life.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him you’d moved on and found someone else to spend your life with that wasn’t him. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on whom you asked, the answers would differ.

A man walked up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist in a tight embrace, lips pressed against your cheek. Marc had no right to be upset, he’d been the one to break your heart, to say those awful things like you’d never truly meant anything to him. Yet, standing here watching this man embrace you cut even deeper.

“Hola mi amor, ¿de quién es tu amigo?” The man glanced over to Marc, brow raised as he looked him over.

“Behave yourself, this is an old friend of mine, Marc Spector,” So you never told him the truth, or maybe you were ashamed of how things ended.

Marc held out a hand to the other man, though he wanted nothing more than to run off like a dog with his tail between his legs. The man, whom Marc had presumed was your boyfriend, took his hand in a tight handshake.

“Santiago, it’s nice to finally meet you,” His smile was friendly enough, but Marc could see the fire deep down in his gaze.

He was a protector, ready to throw Marc back if it meant keeping you safe.

“Marc and I were just catching up, if you want to finish getting the rest of the stuff we need?” You pouted your lip at Santiago, a brightness in your eyes Marc had never seen before.

Is that what you actually looked like when you were happy? Without a care in the world to your surroundings.

“si por supuesto mi amor,” Santiago pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling your bodies flush together for a brief moment.

You giggled when he pulled away, grabbing the cart to head off to a different part of the store. If Marc had paid any more attention he’d have noticed the ring sitting on your left hand. It wasn’t until Steven forced himself to front that he took notice, the diamonds shining even in the dimly lit store.

“You’re engaged?” Steven hadn’t meant for it to sound too rude, as if you had no right to marry anyone besides himself.

“Yes, our engagement parties this weekend, you should come,” You knew you were goading him, waiting to see what he’d finally spill free.

Steven wanted to scream, to beg for you to come back into their lives, that he did indeed still truly love you. It was too late though, he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it like a big boy.

“I’m not sure how much Marc would like that,” Steven fidgeted with the jacket Marc had thrown on before leaving the apartment. It was a habit he couldn’t quite break.

“I’m not asking for Marc to be there, Steven,” It was never subtle that you were closer to Steven than Marc. That didn’t mean you treated them any differently, you just had an easier time with the Brit than the army brat.

“Y/N, you know we’re part of the same body, I can’t do that to him,” Steven would do anything you asked of him, no matter the consequences.

“If you end up changing your mind, here’s the invite,” You reached into your bag, handing him a small envelope.

Both their names were written across the slightly aged paper, had you planned on inviting them, after all that had happened? You truly were too good for them.

“I have to go, Santi and I are babysitting tonight and need to be home before the kids get there,” Steven could only nod and watch as you went in search of your fiance.  ~~~~~

Santi had been watching you all night, the way you talked with his friends so easily, Frankie’s daughter Lilly hanging off your hip like it came so naturally to you. You’d told him about the invite, and that you weren’t entirely sure Marc would even show up. He’d helped calm you down before the kids were due to show up, holding you tight to his chest as you cried.

That was the night he learned the truth about Marc, about the horrific things he’d spewed as if he were talking to someone he truly despised, rather than you. Santiago knew deep down that you were still hurting, trauma like that takes years to overcome, and he was determined to help you through it all.

“Uncle Santi! Lilly’s calling for you!” You sing-songed as you walk over to him, hands cradling the nearly ten month old.

Santi opened his arms, taking the squirming baby from your arms with a smile.

“Well hello there gorgeous, did you miss your Uncle that much?” Lilly had clung to Santi like a bee to a flower.

There had been times people mistook the pair of you as her parents, though you always corrected them and said you were simply the Aunt and Uncle of the little bundle.

It was something he’d never given much thought to, considering what he used to do for work he couldn’t imagine putting that pressure on you. So he pushed it to the farthest corner of his mind and babysat whenever he could.

“You look good with a baby in your arms,” Your smirk was downright devilish, sending a shiver up his spine.

“As do you, mi amor,” You could never get over whenever Santi spoke Spanish to you.

It would be playful when you were in public, or with friends, mainly because Frankie also spoke Spanish and didn’t want to hear your gross thoughts.

The bedroom however was a different story, the filthy things he’d whisper in your ear as you laid between the sheets, bodies pressed flush together.

“Well, we’re getting married in a few weeks, you change your mind on kids?” It was a mutual decision between the two of you to not have children until you were ultimately ready. If the time never felt right, you’d still be happy together.

“Maybe I did, I want nothing more than to put a baby in you,” Gods, who let Santiago out in public with a mouth like that? As soon as you went to retort, the door opening caught your attention. Unfortunately the person stepping inside was neither Marc, nor Steven.

“I didn’t think you were going to show, but I guess you proved me wrong,” You turned to face him, hands on your hips almost defiantly.

Jake raised a brow, staring you down.

“Bueno, hola a ti también, me diste una invitación, ¿recuerdas?” So that’s how things were going to be?

“No, I gave Marc the invitation, I didn’t give it to you Jake,” You wanted nothing more than to slap the other man. It was clear neither Marc, nor Steven wanted to come.

“You can’t be serious, you’re actually upset with me right now?” Jake could see your fiance watching from where you’d left him.

“Yes! This is my engagement party Jake, if the other two didn’t feel comfortable coming at all, you shouldn’t have done this to them,” It nearly pissed you off, but you weren’t going to let him ruin your day.

“Sabes que esto te extraño, ¿verdad? Eres todo lo que pueden hablar,” That truly wasn’t what you needed to hear. “I moved on, Jake, they don’t get to decide things for me anymore,” You were tempted to get Santi to throw him out, or maybe even Frankie and Benny.

“Layla asked for a divorce, Marc’s been blaming himself since that night, no matter how much Steven and I tell him you won’t take us back,” Jake looked uncomfortable now, as if he was spilling his darkest secrets.

And maybe he was, because you’d always assumed things between him and Layla worked out, and that they were happy again.

“That’s not my problem, Jake, Marc was the one who pushed me away, he doesn’t get to have his cake and eat it too,” Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, you never wanted to hurt any of the boys, but goddamnit you were hurting!

Jake opened his mouth to reply, closing it instantly as Santi walked over, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Is there a problem?” Santi leveled Jake with one look, arm kept tight around your body.

Jake looked nervous, something you’d never seen on his face ever in your life. He was the strong one, the alter that took over whenever the other two were overwhelmed.

“Not at all, just talking about the past is all,” Jake smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets without a second thought.

“You alright babe?” Santi looked at you, to truly assess the situation. You’d always tell him if you’d been uncomfortable. “Yeah, just a misunderstanding, parties almost over anyway,” Everyone had started to pack up their things, getting ready to head out for the night.

“I’m gonna help clean up, call if you need anything,” Santi pressed a kiss to your cheek, heading off to help clean up.

Jake watched as Santiago walked away, hands balled into fists in his pockets. He’d always dreamt of coming in and sweeping you off your feet. That wouldn’t happen though, not with this newcomer in his way.

“I love him, Jake, he treats me like an actual person. Please don’t ruin this for me,” You’d hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, that tears wouldn’t spill down your cheeks anymore for the man standing across from you.

“Just, don't tell the other two when you get married, okay? I’m not sure how well Marc would handle it,” Jake knew that if Marc found out how soon you were getting married he’d do something reckless.

“Alright, I won’t tell them,” You muttered, turning back towards Santi.

“If you want me there, I’ll go, but I don’t want to upset them. You deserve better than Marc’s anger,” You scoffed, where had that mentality been when Marc was berating you in the old apartment?

“Don’t do this to me, I didn’t deserve any of what he did to me, but here we are,” You crossed your arms over your chest.

This would just delve into another argument, neither of you winning what seemed to be a dick measuring contest. Jake had always been the absolute worst when it came to seeing reason, worse off than Marc when it came to actually talking about any issues.

“Look, I’m going to leave so I don’t ruin the rest of your night, okay?” Jake pulled you into a hug, tightening his arms as yours wrapped around his waist.

“Siempre seras mi favorita,” Jake’s words cut deep, how could they do this to you? 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, make sure to wear something nice,” You patted his side, stepping back to give you a few feet of space.

Jake waited for Santiago to swoop back in, to show everyone that you were with him, it made him feel uneasy for a brief moment.

“I’ll wear my best suit,” Jake nodded before turning to leave.

To your surprise Santi gave you space, knowing full well that something had happened and he hadn’t wanted to upset you further. This was a sensitive time for the both of you, and the last thing he needed was an argument, especially one fueled by an ex.

Things were going to be just fine.

Wedding Day

If anyone had asked how you felt the day you married Santiago, you’d smile to yourself and tell them you felt truly happy. Butterflies were swarming your stomach, fluttering around like crazy as you had your hair and makeup done.

Your bridesmaids and maid of honor had already gotten ready, putting all the focus on you, taking as many photos as they were allowed to. Santi wasn’t allowed to see you at all until first looks, breaking the ice that would hover over the two of you until you each walked down the aisle.

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you look, he’s going to cry the moment he sees you,” Your bridesmaid, Kait, was rushing around you to get all the finishing touches done.

You’d already shed a few tears, taking pictures to remember for the rest of your days alongside your husband. What would your children think when they saw the photos?

“He better, I’ve been up since six,” You laughed as she placed the “something blue” in your updo.

It had been a gift from Frankie, something his wife had worn for their own wedding. He’d mentioned how Santi had bought it to give to Frankie, and said she deserved something nice on their wedding day. It was a playful dig at his friend, and now you were adorning the same piece.

It felt like you were rushed through the first looks, Santi’s eyes misting over as he took you in fully, hands sliding over your arms as he pulled you tight against him. Too soon though, your maid of honor was rushing you off to get ready to walk down the aisle.

Frankie was walking you down, seeing as your own father wasn’t in your life and Frankie stepped right up to the plate. It was nothing short of an honor to have one of Santiago’s best friends walk you down the aisle.

You’d each cried, facing one another as the justice of the peace declared you husband, and wife. Santi pulled you close, kissing you so passionately you felt almost faint.

There was no one else in the world except for the two of you, held tight in an embrace of love and passion.

“I love you, so much,” You pressed your lips to his once more, grabbing his hand as you ran down the aisle.

Santiago kept a tight grip on your hand, following close behind as he stopped you both, picking you up bridal style.

You’d both agreed to have photos done somewhere else while everyone had cocktail hour at the venue you chose. It was the smartest choice, and thankfully everyone else seemed on board. You didn’t go too far from the venue, choosing the closest, and nicest, park to commit photos to memory.

“You look gorgeous, Mrs. Garcia,” Santi smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.

“As do you, Mr. Garcia,” You gripped the lapels of his tux, leaning your head back slightly.

“Let’s head inside, gotta keep showing off my gorgeous wife,” Santi pulled you flush to his side, waiting as the Dj announced the wedding party first.

Once your names were called you made your way inside, laughing as people wolf whistled, cheered, and clapped.

This was a day you’d dreamt about for years, planning it in your head since you were a little girl, how things would go.

You refused to let the thought of Marc ruin your day. If he’d truly loved you he wouldn’t have pushed you away, he wouldn’t have made you feel so worthless. Today was about you, and the man you were hopelessly in love with.

Of course making your rounds went by faster than you expected, you hadn’t had much in the way of family or friends to invite, and those that did come you’d already seen earlier in the day. Once your eyes landed on Jake you frowned, you weren’t sure he’d actually show up, yet here he was, watching you closely.

He stood up and made his way over to where you were, Santi in a deep conversation with Frankie about something you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Jake told us, I’m sure you weren’t expecting me,” Your eyes widened, Marc had come in Jake’s place?

“No, I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you Marc, though I’m glad you came,” You just hoped he wouldn’t cause a scene.

He pulled you into an embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your hair.

“You do look gorgeous, I can’t deny that,” Marc sighed, holding your shoulders as you pulled back.

“Thank you, it means a lot to me,” Things would work themselves out, you were sure of it.

“Just promise me I can get at least one dance?” Marc looked so hopeful, brown eyes shimmering in the dim light.

“One dance, later though, I need to go eat,” You didn’t want to pull away from him, but you knew deep down had you stayed, you’d have been upset the rest of the night.

Dinner, and the cake cutting went off without a hitch, both you and Santi feeding one another gently. He’d refused to shove any cake in your face, claiming your makeup looked too pretty to be ruined.

“I’ll ruin it later tonight, that’s a promise,” Santi’s whisper sent shivers through your entire body.

Gods you were so thankful you managed to bag that man.

Before the end of the night you searched for Marc, promising him one dance before you left for your honeymoon.

He was nowhere to be found inside, or outside of the venue.

The hooded crusader watched from atop the building, a crushing weight on his chest as he watched you leave with your new husband. He’d brought this on himself, he’d learn to live with the consequences.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight fic #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #marvl #moonknight #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #angst #fluff #santiago garcia x you #marvel

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 12: I have to believe

Last Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Words: 790

“He was there? He was the one who trained you?” Marc was still slightly argumentative about the whole Buck situation by the time dinner was over. Several hours after Jake and I returned to the hotel.  He didn’t trust him, understandably.

“Yes, but he was brainwashed, he wasn’t really himself. Like I said before.” I sighed. We had already been over this many times. As I stood from the hotel bed again to walk over to the window, looking out at the city. I walk past Layla who eyes me with concern. She didn’t have to say a thing for me to know what she was thinking.

How can I be sure we can trust him? I was frustrated with both of them at this point. I knew they were trying to protect me, but at this point I just wanted things to go back to normal. I just wanted to go back home, just go back to date nights and grocery store shopping. I run my hand along the back of my neck trying desperately to calm myself. The room had gone quiet as I stared out the window, Marc brooding behind me and Layla sitting quietly thinking. “I know, it seems risky, but this is my best shot at finding out what happened, to figure out why I went through all this. To find closure on the subject. That’s all I want okay? I just want to close this chapter on my life and…move on.”

“Of course habibti We know that, its just, we don’t know this guy or what intentions he has.” Layla comes up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, the touch is not unwanted, but I felt so on edge. I feel her hand draw back. I reach over and hold it in place.

“I know. I’m sorry, this is a lot. For all of us.” I whisper. Marc walks up behind me and Layla. He reaches for me grabbing my waist, wrapping his arm around my middle, pulling Layla in for a side hug at the same time

“It’s not your fault, I know it’s hard to remember that, trust me I’ve been there but…It’s not your fault.” Marc said with understanding in his voice. As we stood in the window, I willed myself to possibly cry about this, to show feeling, to just release some of the tension. But there was no release.

~

“You sure this is the right place?” Layla looked around the Parking garage with confusion.

“Yep, this is where he’s gonna meet us.” I said squeezing her hand gently. Jake stands on my other side, he’s tense as hell. I let my fingers graze over his, and he turns to look at me, his face softens. He smirks slightly and laughs.

“Steven wants me to make sure you’re alright, something about ‘the next few minutes could change your life for all eternity’ or whatever” Jake mimics Stevens accent perfectly as he quotes Steven making me giggle.

“I’m fine, I don’t mind if my whole life changes as long as I’m with you guys, you are the most important thing in my life, changed or unchanged.” I say taking his hand in mine and squeezing it tight. Just then we spot Bucky leaning on a car. He give Nod and a smile of greeting. I felt a knot in my somach as I saw the roll of paper in his hand. “My file?” I ask apprehensively. Bucky nods and hands it to me.

“I had a friend track this down, wasn’t easy but its all here.” Bucky said as I look thought it. My name, my parents’ names, all of my stats from my time in the academy, notes from my teachers over the years, I skim through it all but land on a note written on the last page. “Code Name: Anubis, Assignment: HYDRA” I say softly as I stare blankly at the page.

“Wait, Anubis? The God of the dead?”  Layla looks at the paper confused.

“She had a 98 percent kill rate, more deadly than any other student. She was given the code name only a year into her training.” Bucky explains, a slight grimace on his face. “You excelled at everything that was put in front of you, like you were meant for it.” That phrase echoed in my mind.

Like you were meant for it.

Was I really made to kill? Was that my true calling? I shake my head trying to get the thought out of my head. I look down at the papers again. Anubis. The Jackal. I think about the cult, and suddenly I realize.

“Cult of the Jackal…they weren’t trying to kill me…they want me alive.”

~

A/N: Hey So I'm gonna start putting these out at a slower pace, maybe every other week or so, no promises. because Inspiration is slow and I have a lot of other stuff I wanna write.

Masterlist

Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant x reader #polyamory #poly representation #moon knight system #moon boys #layla el faouly #Spotify #steven grant #angst #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier

[jupitersmoon167]

My obsession of Moon Knight is starting to take over my creative thought process. I just came up with the idea of a Moon Knight x teen!reader where the reader is the daughter of Marc/Steven (with Jake being more like an uncle figure towards the reader) and Layla. But here’s the kicker: she’s from another dimension where her parents are dead and has taken up the mantle of Moon Knight after her fathers passing.

In my delusional state (I’ve been bedridden with a massive migraine for the past few hours unable to fall asleep), I’ve come up with a plot where America Chavez winds up in the readers dimension (where Marc/Steven/Jake and Layla were both snapped, but never returned cause the avengers never got the stones back, leaving the reader on her own), and the reader decides to join America and protect her from multiversal threats coming to take her power. This all leads to Multiverse of Madness, and after the events of the movie, the reader stays on Earth 616 since she has no one to go back to on her own Earth.

I’d imagine this would take place after Season 1 of Moon Knight, so Jake is Khonshu’s avatar without Marc/Steven knowing. So when Khonshu (of Earth 616) senses another avatar of his, he sends Jake to investigate and to dispose of the “imposter” (when in reality it’s the reader with her own Khonshu (who btw is very protective of her and has become a surrogate parent of sorts to her since her parents were blipped)).

This leads to them fighting, they’re both trading killing blows (which don’t work cause they’re both healing from the suits), and the reader doesn’t know who exactly she’s fighting (other than it’s this Earth’s Moon Knight) until the last second when she recognizes Jake’s voice. And in a moment of disbelief, she whispers “Tío Jake?”

And then…….yeah that’s all I got. There’s bits and pieces after this, but I think I’ve shared enough for one post. Might share more later (who am I kidding, of course I am, I have no self restraint whatsoever).

Edit: I finally made the character sheet for Elina Spector for those who want to see it

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x teen!reader #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #multiverse of madness #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #jake lockley x teen!reader #layla el fouly x teen!reader #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #layla el faouly #Elina Spector

[maudeeloise]

My Miracle || Layla El - Faouly

Pairing : Layla El - Faouly x fem!reader

Genre : slight angst, fluff

Warning : guns, violence 

A/N : it’s confirmed that i’m in love with layla el - faouly. sorry marc and steven ( and jake? ), i guess we have to share.

Everything happened so fast. There was no slight break for you to process upon everything that has happened for the past few hours. One second Marc was shot and the next thing you knew, Layla told you to leave the chamber before it collapsed. She was lucky that you weren’t as stubborn as she was, but did you regret it?

You were in the middle of a chaos where the chanting of spells and a choir of screams collided. You didn’t bare to watch the scene, listening to them were enough to scare you. A spot behind a building was the safest place for you to hide. 

You were empty - handed, no weapon, no bag, nothing. The only thing you had was yourself and the ability to pray for something or someone to save you and whoever that was still had a chance to be saved.

As you fought the urge to break down behind a building, you wrapped your arms around your legs and pulled them close to your chest. It almost felt like you were waiting for your turn to be judged by one of Ammit’s followers and you were sure you wouldn’t pass the judgement.

The sound of a gun clicking, made you looked up. Your breath instantly hitched in your throat as you watched a gun was pointed towards you right a few feet from you. Despite wanting to leave from your spot, your body stayed frozen in your place. 

Your hands shook uncontrollably before they fell to your side. The look in your eyes were pleading, but it wasn’t for them. You were pleading for some sort of miracle to happen. 

Slowly but deadly, their index moved to wrap on the trigger. The look of horror on your face, didn’t make them slightly thought to let you live. They didn’t even think to at least judge you, they went straight to murder you.

With a soft plea escaped your lips, their index pushed on the trigger, shooting a bullet out of the gun. Your eyes abruptly shut as you let the feeling of despair took over your body.

Right when death was about to steal your soul, a miracle came to protect you. The sound of metal against metal rang through your ears. Your face slightly clenched at the uncomfortable sound. 

“Open your eyes.” Your whole body instantly relaxed at the familiar soft voice. You didn’t need to hesitate to open your eyes, knowing that it was her. “Hi.”

“Layla?” Your face instantly fell when realization kicked in.

“You’re not dead.” Layla paused. “I’m not either.”

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “But you were there. I saw you were still inside when the chamber collapsed.”

“I know.” Layla said.

Your eyes hesitantly trailed from her face down to her suit then moved along her wings that was shielding you from your death. A smile of relief was painted on your lips. “How-”

“I’ll explain everything later.” Layla promised. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You said as you looked at her in awe.

She smiled and nodded before pulling back both of her wings. The look of love that was once on her future was replaced with anger the second her eyes landed on the shooter. She stood up in front of you with her fists clenched on her side.

“Not a chance.” Layla said through gritted teeth. “Not her.”

@scarlettsoldier​ @starfirette​

#layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #layla x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #Moon Knight #fluff #marvel #mcu