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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

Cheat

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: T Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist •

Summary: Marc cheats at games constantly.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: this is just self indulgent. I'm sorry.

Warnings: reader is from the UK (get ready for some friendly USA vs UK), typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 828

“But that’s cheating!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It is!” You try to keep the smile out of your voice, and put on an air of shocked indignation. Marc was notorious for cheating at board games, and card games, and any games where he thought he could get away with it.

“How?” He asked calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. But there was a hint of glee in his eyes.

“You,” you gesture at him with your hand, nearly breaking into a laugh, “you can’t move like that.”

Marc doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, you can.”

“You can’t!”

“Who says?” He cocks his head to the side as he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in mock confusion. Though the little twitch of his lip gives him away. If there was one thing he loved more than cheating at games was pretending he actually wasn’t.

“I don’t know Marc, the rules?”

“I don’t think so.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket. “I’m looking them up, right now.”

“You’re just going to go and look at ‘pretend rules to suit my argument .com.” He shakes his head, a fake look of disgust plastered all over his features, as if you’re the one that’s going to try to deceive him.

“Firstly,” you try not to laugh, so as not to weaken your position. “That’s amazing, I am looking that up afterwards to see if it exists, and secondary-”

“I mean, it does exist, otherwise how else are you gonna go on it to look up the rules and pretend I can’t move like that?”

You gawp at him for a second, grinning like crazy at his audacity. “Marc-”

“Hey,” he holds up his hands, “I’m just trying to play fair here, play by the rules-”

“When have you ever played by the rules?”

“And you’re here, questioning my very legitimate move.”

“Marc,” you giggle, “draught pieces cannot jump over empty spaces in a straight line.”

“See, firstly,” he pulls a face, mocking your expression from before, “we’re playing checkers, that might be where you’re confused, because, in checkers-”

“Marc we are playing draughts,” you giggle and hold up the battered cardboard box, which clearly says ‘draughts’.

He shakes his head. “That’s a typo.”

“That’s a typo?”

He nods, “of course, and-”

“Pretty big typo.”

“British craftsmanship was never up to standard.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Now, now,” he grins, wagging his finger at you. “Violence never solved anything.”

“Says the American.”

Marc gasps in fake hurt and puts his hand on his chest, “I’m so shocked that you would lower yourself to insulting my nationality.”

You laugh, “you just-”

“I would have thought such petty insults were beneath you,” he shakes his head in mock outrage. “I mean, I am so insulted right now.”

“You did it first!” You grin.

Marc just shakes his head and stares to the side. “I can’t even look at you right now.

“Also draughts and checkers are the same game.”

“Now, you're insulting my American heritage, our cultural game of checkers, how could you?” His tone of voice is making it impossible not to laugh.

“Marc-”

“I just can’t,” he stands, “If you’re not going to respect the game then,” he shrugs, “I don’t think we should play, let’s just end it here and say I won.”

“No,” you get up, “I’m winning!”

“Were you? Morally?” He teases.

“Yes!”

He takes a step closer to you. “And in the actual game?”

“Yes! That’s why you started cheating!”

He leans closer, “I never cheat.”

You place your hands on his cheeks and pull a face. “Liar.”

“How could you-”

“Don’t make me ask Steven to be the umpire.” You say playfully.

“Oh yes,” he narrows his eyes at you. “The other Brit, I’m sure he’ll be completely unbiased.”

You laugh, “Fine, how about Jake?”

Marc shakes his head, an over-the-top motion just for your amusement. “Can’t trust him.”

You gasp, “You can’t trust him?”

“Not in matters like this.”

“But he’s American.”

Marc shakes his head again, “he’s too blinded by your beauty to be impartial.”

You smile, the sneaky compliment catching you off guard for a moment. “Blinded by my beauty?”

“Hmm,” he nods, all fake seriousness. “It’s a real problem, luckily, I have developed a resilience to your charms.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” he nods again, but takes hold of your left hand and places a kiss to your inner wrist. “I am completely immune.” He punctuates the sentence by placing more kisses along your arm and sliding his other hand onto your hip, pulling you closer towards him until your chest is flush with his.

“Completely immune.” You echo and nod sarcastically.

“Completely.” He nods back and places a soft kiss on your lips that quickly has you melting into him. He stays just as close when you break apart, keeping barely a centimetre of space between you.

“You’re a terrible cheat, Spector.”

He grinned. “You love it when I don’t play by the rules.”

____________________________________

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jake-g-lockley · 8 months

Note

Do you think if I bought Marc fuzzy socks he’d wear them

I think Marc would LOVE fuzzy socks 😭

Here’s a little something I wrote:

Fuzzy Socks | Marc Spector x reader

Marc groaned slightly into his pillow as the sound of bird chirping woke him from his deep sleep. Your sleeping figure was curled up beside him, clinging onto his arm like it was your lifeline. You stirred slightly at the sound Marc made but he quickly shushed you gently, coaxing you back to sleep.

You had a long shift the night before and Marc slowly turned around, laying back down to stare at your sleeping face. His fingers traced the tired lines on your face and skimmed up your cheekbone, making you smile in your sleep and cuddle closer to Marc.

Marc moved his feet so that he could intertwine his legs with yours when he was suddenly aware that there was something on his feet. He blinked before ripping off his side of his covers and staring at his feet. To his utter disbelief, he found himself staring at a pair of fuzzy socks on his feet.

He stared at the sock for a while before wiggling his toes. It elicited a surprise giggle from his chest that made him clamp his hand to his mouth. He reached down to touch the fuzzy socks and smiled at its perfect softness.

He turned to grin at your sleeping figure. You must have slipped them on his feet when you came in late last night. You loved all things soft and he knew that he’s grown to love fluffy things too from you. Marc leaned back and placed the softest kiss onto your forehead before slipping out of bed in his new socks.

You awoke about an hour later to the heavenly smell of cooking and the sound of distant music. You slipped out of bed and padded your way to the kitchen, absolutely delighted by the sight that greeted you.

Your husband was dancing around the kitchen, shuffling with his new fuzzy socks and using the spatula as a makeshift microphone. Your giggle made Marc drop the spatula onto the floor but when he realized that it was just you he grinned and shouted “FUZZY SOCKS!”

It only made you laugh harder as Marc slid across the kitchen like he was auditioning for Disney on Ice and scooped you up in his arms for a tight hug.

“I take it that you like the socks?” You say into Marc’s neck before placing a soft kiss onto his jaw and brushing the back of his neck with your knuckles.

“I love them.” Marc whispered back, softly rubbing at your hip. The soft innocence of his voice made you almost want to tear up but you took a deep breath and composed yourself.

“I’m glad you do, baby.” You hugged Marc a little tighter sealing the little moment into a beautiful core memory.

A few years later…

“Now what did mommy say about wearing your fuzzy socks to school!” You run after your child, crouched low so that you could catch him by his ankles.

Suddenly, you saw your child’s feet disappear and you watch as your husband scoops him up and blinks down at you innocently, despite the mischievous grin on his face.

“Sweetheart, let him wear the socks.” Marc said as your baby cuddled close to his father, clinging onto his shirt.

“Yea sweetheart.” Your baby mimicked, making you cave at the term of endearment from your favour boys.

You faked a frown and tapped your cheek impatiently.

“Only if you gimme a kiss first.”

Your baby pouted his lips and gave you a sloppy kiss while your husband held onto your hand and followed suit.

You looked between your husband and your child, shaking your head at the fact that you gave birth to his copy. Two pairs of big and sad brown eyes stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“Fine, he can wear them.” You said, a smile cracking through your facade.

Marc grinned and kissed your forehead before carrying your baby out of the door for school.

You leaned on the kitchen counter and sighed.

“Just like your father.” You shake your head and giggled, loving every moment you make with the idiot.

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the-little-ewok · 2 years

Text

Knead

Marc Spector/Steven Grant X G!N reader

Rating : T+

Wordcount : 2300 (ish)

Warnings : Fluff, mild angst, mention of blood, mention of canon style violence, mention of food, some innuendos and spice

Summary : You offer to help Marc and Steven relax a little after a long night

Prompts - “Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.” + "Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage?"

Gif by salome-c

~~~~~~~

The night drags out in the winter, long and dark as you toss and turn in a cold empty bed. It's not the first night you've been alone, and you know it won't be the last, but every night they are gone ends this way — restless and sleepless. You know eventually the sun will rise, the moon will disappear again for another night, and you hope that then, they will come home to you.

Sitting up, you run your hands over your face, the movement stirring up the lingering familiar scent of them from their sweater. You'd thrown it on as the wind had rattled the window panes, the cold breeze sneaking through the gaps to bite at your skin. The smell brings a soft familiar warmth to you, as though you could imagine them here, their arms wrapped around you.

Technically it's Marc's sweater, a point Steven likes to make continually since he hates it, preferring his patterned shirts to Marc's usual wardrobe of darker colours, but it's still a comfort that reminds you of them both.

Swinging your legs out of bed, you let the cold wood floor ground you for a moment, pulling you from dark and depressing thoughts. They always came home to you, there's no reason tonight should be any different, and yet the restlessness won't cease.

Giving up on sleep, you make your way into the kitchen. A drink and a snack would help pass the time and distract you a little while you wait. The wind howls again, rattling the windowpane, and you bite your lip in worry that they are somewhere out there, in the cold night, getting into who knows what trouble.

Grabbing a packet of crisps, you reach up to grab a glass from the cupboard when a noise at the door stops you in your tracks. Lowering your arm, slowly you step quietly back into the middle of the flat, giving you more space to run if you need it as there’s another rattle of the lock. Your heart beats wildly as the door suddenly swings open.

"Oh! Hello, love. Why are you up so late?" Steven asks, wide eyed with surprise the moment he sees you standing frozen in the middle of the flat. It takes a second for your heartbeat to slow and for your nerves to calm down in order to answer. Of course, it was them, who else would be letting themselves in.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer distractedly, taking in his dishevelled appearance as the remainder of his white suit disappears. His curls are damp with sweat, hanging messily over his forehead which is smeared in blood, there's a rapidly healing cut on his lip and a bruise on his chin.

"Are you ok?" You breathe, dropping the packet of crisps onto the counter and making your way over to him. You lift your fingers to softly trace the bruise, but even as you do, it disappears under your touch.

"Yeah," Steven assures you softly, reaching out to rub your upper arms in comfort, sensing your distress. "We are always ok. Marc just got into a bit of trouble. Didn't mean to scare you coming in.”

You nod, your fingers softly gliding over the patches of dried blood where cuts and scrapes would have been, trying not to let your fears get the best of you. It was still hard to adjust to everything about the situation, and the very real dangers that they faced during the night. Even though they always seemed to come back safe, sometimes a little worse for wear but safe, it still sent your stomach twisting.

"Love?" Steven repeats gently, blinking you out of your fear fed daze.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you are ok?" He asks again gently, reaching up to stroke your hair as he looks you over. Typical Steven — the man who just stumbled home from a fight, probably still having the lingering pain from the bruises and cuts, asking if you, who have been safe at home curled up in bed, are alright.

"I'm just glad you're home," you smile, leaning into his touch as he cups your cheek gently. "Let me go get you some water and clean your face up."

He nods, letting you go so that you can pad back into the kitchen. The switch happens in seconds, silently Steven steps back and your only alert to it is Marc's accent when he asks his next question.

"Why are you wearing my sweater?"

"Because it smells like you. Both of you," you clarify with a shrug, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. You probably should be embarrassed about your constant need to feel close to them, but judging by the glint in his eyes when you look over, Marc enjoys seeing you wearing his clothes just as much as you enjoy wearing them.

"Smell that good, do we?" Marc grins, folding his arms and leaning against the bookshelf, watching you as you pour the water and grab a damp cloth.

Walking back over, you hand Marc the glass of water before you carefully start to wipe the blood from his head.

"Occasionally you do. Maybe not right now, though," you tease.

Marc placing down the glass on the table should have been your first warning of what was about to happen, but it still takes you by surprise when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly, rubbing his damp curls across the side of your face. He smells of sweat and aftershave, of desert sand and blood. It shouldn't be as arousing to your senses as it is.

Laughing, you try to scramble out of his arms, if only to save yourself the embarrassment of becoming a panting mess just from the damn way he smells.

"Thought you wanted to smell like us?" He teases. "I'm just helping. I'm scenting you."

"Marc!" You giggle, giving up and going limp in his arms. He squeezes you hard before he finally lets you go, picking up the glass of water to sip it innocently while you straighten yourself out.

"You want a snack, Spector? Food!" You clarify quickly as Marc raises his eyebrows, the beginning of a smirk curling his lips. He always seemed to be riled up after a fight, and more than once you'd let him have whatever he wanted from you. But tonight you can see the tiredness in the way he holds himself, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever. Tonight, you had to let him rest, even if he thought that wasn't the best for him right now.

"No, thank you, baby. I'm gonna take a shower then we can go to bed," he winks, finishing the water before he kisses your temple and disappears into the bathroom.

You don't try to follow him. You've learned after long nights like this they need some time alone, to process the events and to discuss between themselves. You leave them to it and sit down on the edge of the bed, relieved to have them home safe.

"Feeling better?" You ask, jumping up and opening your arms as they leave the bathroom, dressed in Steven’s oversized pyjamas.

"Much better," Steven smiles, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you tightly. You lean into his embrace, letting your head fall to his shoulder as you hold him tightly.

"Your back is so tense," you frown, letting your fingers trace the stiff muscles gently. It can't be easy what they do, and with all the power that Khonshu gives them their body still seems to always pay the price. "Would you like a massage? Might help a little?"

"Oh, you really don't have to do that! We’ll be alright by the morning," Steven protests, giving you a gentle squeeze. Smiling, you brush your fingers through his wet curls, pulling away from him just far enough to give him a soft kiss, enjoying the way he smiles against your mouth.

"Or, you know, we could give you a massage?" Steven whispers softly, his fingers ghosting up your ribs as he leans forward to kiss you again. You roll your eyes, reminded once more that Marc and Steven can sometimes be very much the same.

“Later,” you smile, nudging your nose against his as his fingers creep under the hem of Marc’s sweater to brush against your bare skin. “Let me do this one thing for you. It’ll make me feel like I'm doing something useful,” you admit.

“You’re always doing useful things, and you don't have to do anything for us,” he kisses your hair softly as he cuddles you.

“I know, but it still makes me feel like I can help a little bit.” You press another lingering kiss to his lips before you gently push him towards the bed. "Come on, shirt off."

"You really don't have to," Steven protests again.

"I know, and I still want to. Now get on the bed before I'm forced to put you down on it myself.” You fold your arms stubbornly, watching his expression change as Marc fronts.

“Oh, yeah? How you gonna go about that? Because I’d love to see it,” he grins. When you open your mouth to bite a response at him that in the state he’s in you could absolutely take him down, he jumps in, no doubt knowing what you are about to say.

"No, you couldn’t. Don't even try. You’ll just hurt yourself, baby," he laughs, pulling his shirt up over his head and throwing it to the floor. Rolling your eyes, you point to the bed, watching as he climbs on it and lays down on his stomach, wrapping his arms around the pillow.

Grabbing some lotion off the side, the one that always makes Steven nuzzle your skin with the most contented inhales of breath, you carefully straddle his waist. Warming the lotion on your hands first, you carefully start to rub it into his back, feeling the tension of his stiff muscles under your fingers. Starting with his shoulders, you carefully work your way down, pressing your thumbs against his spine as he hums contentedly under your fingers. Ever so slowly you feel him start to relax, the tension he’s been carrying dropping out of him as he starts to breathe slowly and evenly.

"Mmm smells amazing. You're too good to us," Steven mumbles softly, clearly already half asleep, boneless, and relaxed under your hands.

"Yeah, probably," you tease with a laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss between their shoulder blades. "You deserve it, though. You look after so many people with no thanks, this is the least I can do.”

Steven falls silent for a long moment, and you feel the shift this time. It's the slightest stiffen of his posture under your fingers that alerts you to Marc.

"He’s right, you know? You are far too good to us, to me,” Marc mumbles into the pillow, his voice taking on an edge of sadness, “You deserve better than having to sit awake all night waiting for us to come home, worrying the way you do.”

Pausing in your massage, you climb off him to sit on the bed, gently pressing against his bicep to force him to turn on his side. When he finally does, you lay down beside him, pressing your hand to his cheek, so you can meet his eyes at his level.

“Marc Spector, I would wait up a thousand nights for you without a single regret. My worrying is not your fault. Remember, I chose you just as much as you chose me. I knew what I was getting into, and it was my choice, it still is.” You gently stroke his cheek with your thumb as you talk, your eyes imploring him not to go down this route of self-hate again. "I love you, and all the nights and worry in the world won't change that."

At that, he gives you the ghost of a smile, turning his head to kiss your palm, changing the subject before your conversation gets too deep into serious territory, the same way he always does.

“Just wait until you let me return the favour. Gonna massage you everywhere.” Even though he’s clearly trying to distract you from questions of his own self worth, you can't help the bolt of desire that runs through you at the thought of his hands caressing your skin. Your thoughts are not helped in any way when he slides his hand across your thigh, licking his lips.

"Could start now, baby?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. With a giggle and a lot more willpower than you thought possible, you gently remove his hand and shuffle back.

“Later, let me finish your massage first. Please,” you add as he looks like he's about to argue. His expression softens and he presses a quick lingering kiss to your lips before he lays back down on his stomach.

Climbing back over him, you press soft kisses down the back of his neck before you resume the massage he’d interrupted, rubbing the remainder of the lotion in.

“Thank you,” Marc mumbles quietly. “Honestly, you’re far too -”

“Stop talking and just enjoy being taken care of,” you cut in and scold him gently. He mumbles something about taking care of you later, but thankfully quietens down.

He’s so quiet after a while that you can't help but become suspicious of the silence. It’s not that you’re exactly expecting him to throw you over and return the favour, but….it wouldn't be the first time silence spelled that sort of trouble.

"Marc? Steven?" You question softly, leaning over to look at them. Their eyes are closed, mouth half open as they breathe deeply, completely fast asleep. Smiling, you carefully climb off them and snuggle down beside them. You do your best to keep your movements as small as possible to not disturb them, but both of them are light sleepers after everything they’ve been through, and even the slightest movement makes them stir.

"Come here, please." Steven sighs sleepily, his voice gravelled and only half awake, reaching over for you and pulling you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you to secure you in place. "I’m sorry. We’ll return the favour in the morning when we are more awake, I promise."

“I’m sure you will,” you smile, reaching down and tugging the covers up over you both. Steven hums a mumbled "we love you," into your hair and within seconds he's snoring peacefully, just as the sun starts to stream in through the window, and the countdown to the night begins again.

------

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traveller-of-the-knight · 11 months

Text

Train of thoughts

Moon boys

Y/N: I can't understand your train of thoughts.

Marc: I don't really have one.

Steven: You know those little things in westerns that people use to move on train rails when they are desperate? The one that two people drive like using a seesaw.

Marc: And they look absolutely ridiculous.

Steven: Yeah that one, that's what we have.

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mayfieldss · 11 months

Text

Not who we were - Marc Spector

Pairing: Marc Spector x Significant other!reader

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, blood, and a plot that doesn't make sense as it was written at 1am.

Summary: When you find out who Marc really is, he hopes you'll still love him despite it all.

"I've made some mistakes, no, I'm not gonna lie, I've seen the world fall apart right in front of my eyes. I'm a victim of myself in disguise" - Em Beihold

"This is gonna be hard to explain." Marc's hands, white-gloved within his suit, hold yours as he helps you to your feet.

"Marc?" Your voice comes uneven before you're tearing your hands from his, eyes wider than Marc had yet to ever see them.

"Yeah, it's me." It comes as a sigh, his suit falling away to reveal the man you know. "I know this looks crazy, and sure, I don't think there's anything else to call it, but you gotta trust that I didn't have a choice."

There's more than one dead body surrounding you, and with his words, you can't find yourself to be calm. You'd watched him kill each and every one, and you had nothing close to an idea why, and somehow that makes it worse.

"They're...all dead." There's a shake to your voice, and you take multiple involuntary steps backward, wishing only to get away from the scene and perhaps wake up from the nightmare at hand.

"I know, but—"

"You killed them." You can't let him speak. You don't want to hear an excuse for all you've witnessed, and yet Marc tries to finish his sentence still.

"Look, you know me. You know I wouldn't do this without reason. I've got a job to do here, and I'm not proud of it—" he continues though you don't hear the rest. It's too hard to process, and it's most definitely not the time to explain such things in depth, with the blood from strangers that lie before you seeping into your shoes. But he talks and he talks, Egyptian gods and the possible deaths of many others weighing against the man you love had he not complete this mission he's on. How he never intended you to get caught up in the mess he's made.

But you don't understand it, and you only hear the key points, or at least some of them. The rest you find yourself blocking out in favour of a small panic attack.

"Honey, look, I know it's a lot, but we gotta go, like now." Marc's got a hand on the small of your back, the other on your shoulder as he leads you away to what he would claim to be safety, and you don't know when he got this close to you.

"Marc, please don't touch me." Separating from him is hard, but you push him back, making your own way through the streets, though you don't know where you're headed. "I don't know what's going on, and your bullshit explanation has done nothing to plead your case, but I need to be as far from you as possible right now."

"I agree, you do, but I need you not to hate me first." Marc's right on your heels as you move, and somehow you find yourself still following his directions when he ushers you this way and that. When you reach a secluded ally you pause, turning back to face the man you thought you once knew.

"How long? How long have you been doing this?"

The look in Marc's eyes says enough, yet he answers you anyway. "Way before I met you." He sounds sad, down further than you've ever seen him as he continues. "When we met, I wanted to stop. And I tried, but there were some things I've had to wrap up, loose ends that I need to tie. But I wanted to get out, I did." Marc seems to pause, as if he can hear someone else, something else other than the quiet of the ally. His face contorts in what seems to be anger for no longer than a second, before his eyes are back on you, the soft and devastated expression taking over again.

"I thought I had you figured out." You can hear the disbelief in your voice, the sound of it enough to break a piece of Marc away. He's tough, and he's been through more than one person can bear, yet he finds this might be one of the worst feelings he's yet to encounter. He watches your eyes, scanning them for some sign of the love you'd once held for him and he finds it there, though he sees it fading.

"How can I ever believe a word you say?"

"I never lied, not outside of this, everything about us was real." He's sincere, and he hasn't felt this vulnerable in years, yet Marc can feel you slipping away. "Everything I kept from you was to keep you safe. I needed to keep you safe." He takes a step forward, placing his hands on your shoulders. They're bare and cold, the night air reaching out to your skin.

Marc had been through this before, and his methods had always been based around pushing people away, but there was something about you that made things different. And when Khonshu told him to let you go, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Now he might be losing you just like the god had wanted, though this time it's not under Marc's control.

"Please, I need you to trust me. I know how it looks, and I know how hard this will make things for us, for you, but I need you to trust me."

Your eyes are glassy, and you're looking right through him as if you don't know him at all. Yet you nod, the action pulling the weight from Marc's chest for now. He slides a hand down your arm, slipping his hand into your own as he leads you back through the streets to the place you'd once called home with him.

You're silent the whole way, and Marc doesn't make any attempts to force words from you. Instead, he walks with the silence, as if it's an old friend of yours and an enemy of his. The front door is old, the paint peeling and the doorknob creaking as Marc leads you inside, and somehow that's the first time he's noticed the deteriorating state of the place. It hadn't mattered before, when the structure of his relationship with you had been so strong, he didn't need anything else.

"Do you want some water? coffee?" He's acting like Steven, he thinks, but he's sure he's still in control here. He knows he is.

"I just need to sleep." You sound tired, and he believes you, watching as you shuffle to the bedroom, eyes blank as you move. He doesn't follow, setting up a bed on the couch for the night. He knows you well enough to expect you need space, and right now he's willing to give it. Had this just been a regular fight, Marc would have tucked himself into bed with you no matter your protests and pulled you in for a hug until you forgave him, at least for the night. He knows it's not right to do that now.

The couch isn't comfortable, but he doubts you're getting much better sleep than he is. Not after all you'd seen that day. He tries to drift off and an hour or three passes before he finds that he actually can. He has no dreams, no nightmares, and the peace is a relief. When he wakes the next morning it all comes back, a tidal wave of shame and concern overtaking him as he recalls the way you'd looked at him, spoken to him. You were a skeleton of the person he once held dear.

He moves quickly about the apartment when he wakes, making coffee as quietly as he can, and moving to the room he's supposed to share with you, peeking inside. It's dark, and the curtains are still drawn despite the late hour, but Marc sees it. His eyes find the empty bed, the broken lamp on the floor, fallen from the bedside table. The picture frame that holds Marc's favourite photo, you and him, together now seen through broken glass. It wasn't done by you, and at the sight of your shoes still beside the bed, he knows it's all wrong.

Marc had never cursed quite like he did then, the anger that harbours itself deep within him curling out into the open. He shouts to Khonshu, to Steven, and to whoever will listen as he wonders where you are, rushing out the door before any kind of protest or plan can be made. He knows what's happened, though he doesn't know how he slept through it, and he knows it's his fault.

You were seen with him last night, and he'd shown just how much he cared for you. That was the perfect advertisement for leverage. But by some form of luck, It's not hard to find you, or your kidnappers, and whilst Marc is seeing red beyond that of proper thought, he is capable of locking his eyes with yours, a silent communication, and a promise.

There's a knife to your throat, held by one man, and a gun pointed to your head by another, and Marc knows the killers just don't understand. Because what comes next is a violent, fast-paced frenzy. You don't know how he does it, but the second the knife falls from your throat, you're ducking down for cover and hoping that a gunshot won't ring out by your second captor. But it all goes by so fast, and when you do hear a bullet fire, you don't feel it pierce your skin. Your eyes lock on the shooter, ears ringing from the sound as you watch bullet after bullet fired at the man you love. You do still love Marc, despite it all, and perhaps that's why the scream that leaves you is so devastatingly loud.

Marc thinks you're hurt the second he hears it, heart-stopping for mere moments before he's finishing off the gunman and racing to your side with not a scratch in sight. Your eyes are wide and when he's within arms reach you're grasping at him, hands running over his armour as it falls away to reveal Marc himself, t-shirt and jeans in near the same condition as the day before.

"Hey, I need you to calm down for me." Marc's voice is steady, and you don't understand how he's still alive. "Are you hurt?"

Your brows furrow as you watch his features before your eyes drift back to his torso, where you swear the bullets hit him. "You were shot, like ten times."

His hands run over your arms, pushing you back from him so he can check you for wounds. "I had amour and a little help from someone more powerful than a pistol, you, however, did not. So, I need you to tell me, did they hurt you?"

All you can do is shake your head in response, eyes scanning his face with the worry that he holds for you all the same. You can't remember why you hated Marc before, and with all the violence that unfolded over the last 24 hours, you can't find yourself being bothered by it. So instead, you leap forward into him, a hug so tight that Marc gasps from the grip.

You find yourself crying, and the morning sunlight falls on the both of you, highlighting the tear stains that appear on Marc's shoulder. He's hardly holding it together himself, the touch enough to release all the tension in his bones. He squeezes you tight, your arms around his neck as he kneels on the harsh ground, enough to keep him steady.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

You don't respond, but you don't have to. He can feel you, and with every shaky breath you take, he knows he's forgiven. Somehow, somewhere deep inside you, you found it in yourself to do it. Forgive him for the lies, for the harm, and whilst the trust will take time to build back, he has your body clinging to his, your heartbeat in time with his own.

AN: i don't particularly like this fic, and it doesn't make much sense plotwise at all, but I haven't posted in so long, and it's all I have.

MARVEL TAGLIST: @mellowladyangel @5kyyy @avyannadawn

MOON KNIGHT TAGLIST: empty

MARC SPECTOR TAGLIST: empty

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shadystarlightgentlemen · 2 years

Text

The Moon Boy’s React to You Calling Them “My Life” in Their First/Second Language

A/N: First fic on this blog!! Wooo! Hope you like it <3

Warnings: none, major fluff, slight angst?, I used Google Translate so I apologize if anything is incorrect!!

Gender neutral reader, but use of prince and princess in Spanish

Steven

Steven had never felt such joy in his life besides when he first asked you out and you said yes

He was just walking into your shared apartment, a tired yet relieved look on his face

Donna was up his ass all day and it really pissed him off, but coming home to you made the tension in his shoulders and frustration disappear

“Hi Elliott, how was your day?” “Hi ma vie, it was alright. How was work?”

He stops breathing. Straight up. He just stands there and stares at you

He knew French was a common language and mostly used for it’s romantic sound, but it was coming from you

You learned a little bit of French just to make him happy and he fell harder in love with you for it

He knew you loved him, of course he did, how could he not?

You made that it very clear every second of the day from your random cute texts to making him tea just before he enter the door from work to the randoms love notes you place all over the apartment, but to call him your life? Oh his heart

He melted on the spot, he’s literally just a puddle

After he calmed his heart and tamed the ferocious blush on his cheeks, he tackles you in a hug, peppering your face with kisses and grinning like an idiot. An idiot in love.

"Mon ange, mon amour, mon cœur, mes étoiles c'était incroyable! Je vous aime!"

Marc

Oh baby boy

Touch starved baby boy

He wasn’t use to displays of affection, platonic or otherwise

His poor little heart

He had just gotten back from getting lunch for you and him, he was not ready for the bomb you were about to drop on him

He didn’t have a bad day per say, he was just so mentally tired, he almost didn’t recognize the Arabic passing through your lips

“Hey Y/n, I got you your favorite.” “Hayati, thank you! Did you grab the mail on your way up? I’m expecting a package and-Marc? Are you ok?“

Look what you did, you made him cry

He hasn’t even closed the front door before he’s crying and staring at you

You got up to make sure he was physically ok when he collapsed in your arms, desperately grabbing at your shirt and pulling you oh so close

He had never felt so loved, so appreciated, so soft

You life? He’s your life? Really?? You promise??

He was always so scared of messing up your relationship, but this eased any insecurities for at least a week

“Ana ahibuk.”

Jake

Jake is the most romantic alter, Steven coming in close second of course, but when Steven isn’t getting you flowers or sending you little notes, Jake is picking up a little more around the apartment, making you food, and giving you messages

He has such a bleeding heart for you, you don’t understand

He would do anything for you, all you have to do is ask

After a particulaly long night protecting the travelers of the night, he came home all bruised and tired

You had just sat down when he came plopping himself next to you and laying his head in your lap, ignoring the aching and pounding in his limbs and head

“Holà, príncipe/princesa.” “Holà mi vida! I got some pizza on the counter if you want any ok?“ “What?” “There’s pizza on the counter from your favorite place downtown and-” “No, no, no before that, what’d you say?” You didn’t even get a chance to respond

Jake had sat up and kissed you like you were his only source of oxygen

Hearing his first language on your tongue sent shock waves of happiness and love down his spine, he couldn’t even feel his sprained wrist and multiple broken ribs anymore

After he was done taking your breath away, he rested his forehead on yours

“You mean that? ¿Realmente significo tanto para ti?” “I love you, Jake, of course I mean it.”

Jake was down bad and by the wide grin and love sick sigh, he was more than happy to roll over and dive deeper in love

Fist of Vengeance be damned, he was so soft for you

“Te amo mi principe/princesa. Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado.”

Ma vie = My life

Mon ange, mon amour, mon cœur, mes étoiles c'était incroyable! Je vous aime = My angel, my love, my heart, my stars, that was amazing! I love you

Hayati = My life

Ana ahibuk = I love you

Holà, príncipe/princesa = Hi, prince/princess

Holà mi vida = Hi my life

¿Realmente significo tanto para ti? = Do I really mean that much to you?

Te amo mi principe/princesa. Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado = I love you my prince/princess. You are the best thing that’s happened to me

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mkfluffluv · 2 years

Text

He Doesn’t Mind

MARC SPECTOR X GN READER

prompt : marc didn’t plan on falling for your loud mouth but he does anyway.

hello it me, back at it again with the writing. english isn’t my first language blah blah blah you get the gist. likes and reblogs appreciated!! leave me requests and i’ll (probably) write it :D

warnings : maybe slightly ooc? i don’t know, id like to imagine marc would be a nervous wreck when around the people he likes. other than that, this is just more fluff

word count : 2334

italics is steven and bold is jake

masterlist

Marc Spector doesn't usually go on dates. After the events of Ammit and his divorce with Layla, it's been hard for him to really commit himself to relationships. Sure, he's had his fair share of drunken hookups that earns him a good and loud nagging from Steven with Jake snickering behind him whenever he's there, but long-term relationships have just never been something he looked for. There are too many risks, too many complications what with the two other men living in the body, and his nightly job of serving Khonshu as his fist of vengeance. Marc doesn't have time for relationships, and neither does Jake. Maybe Steven does but the man is as smooth as sandpaper so the chances of that are slim.

That is, until one day, Marc switches in the middle of Steven's morning shift as a gift shopist and is greeted by the sight of well, you. You were rambling about these weird-looking jellies that you waved around in your hand, talking on and on about their inaccuracies and irrelevance to Ancient Egypt history. He distinctly remembers Steven rambling about the same thing one moonlit night. Marc doesn't know why or how he switched in but this situation was not one he wanted to be in. But he stays anyway. You intrigue him.

"What I'm saying is that jellies weren't even invented at the time! They could've done anything else but jellies? It's ridiculous!" You continue to ramble, your hands flailing about as if that would help get your point across. When your gaze eventually looks away from the offending jellies and towards himself, Marc feels his breath blown away from his chest.

The glare that you send his way as if he was the one at fault for the sweet treats is, for lack of a better word, adorable. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest, nose slightly scrunched up, mouth pulled down into a frown, and brows furrowed deeply. Without Marc realizing it, he was staring with a stupid grin on his face.

When your head tilts to the side, Marc snaps out of his thoughts, mentally slapping himself. "Right, sorry. I don't handle those kinda things." He says. Your previously angry face contorts into one of confusion.

"You're American?"

Fuck. Sometimes Marc forgets that his other alter is British. Now see, he would love to attempt a British accent, but the last time he did that, an old lady had smacked him across the face, thinking he was mocking her. So, Marc decides to try and lie his way out of this.

"Yes."

Well, that wasn't really lying now, was it?

Marc mentally tells Jake to shut up, to which he does after cackling at him for a bit.

Marc clears his throat and tries to gain his composure back after his slip-up. Best Steven impression it is then. "Sorry. What was your complaint? I'll be sure to pass it over to my boss." He says, his attempt at a British accent possibly not as bad as before as you seem to shrug the matter off immediately.

"Never mind that I'll just talk to your boss myself." You say, before stomping off towards wherever Steven’s boss is.

After Marc sees that you're out of hearing distance, he quietly calls out Steven's name. He has a favor to ask.

Apparently, according to Steven, you are a regular visitor, always coming to the gift shop to complain about certain souvenirs to his boss, Donna, whenever she's there. Steven never interrupted them, only listened intently as you pretty much talk her ear off. He'd always found it amusing, but when you came to complain about the jellies to him, he panicked and switched with Marc.

Marc, wanting to see you again, asks Steven for a favor. At first, Steven did not want to be a part of whatever scheme he was trying to do but Marc then told him that it was to make up for switching with him when he wasn't prepared in the slightest, and Steven, after a few more minutes of convincing and an offer to talk to his boss about getting him the tour guide job, begrudgingly agreed.

The next day, you walk into the gift shop, and Steven switches with Marc. The plan was that Marc would talk to you and get to know you more like a normal person, but despite popular belief, Marc is not a normal person and is instead a nervous wreck when it comes to talking with people he may or may not be...interested in. ("Steven, I refuse to call it a crush, that is just childish.") So, all he does is gawk and stare as you talk and talk and talk, complaining about everything to Donna, starting with the jellies from before to whatever else there is to complain about the museum. Donna mostly ignores you though, seemingly used to this behavior from you.

Marc does eventually get the courage to talk to you though. Once you finish your complaining and Donna walks away from the gift shop, Marc clears his throat and greets you by going "So, jellies huh?" of all things which is so lame, that he briefly thinks Steven had taken over for a second. You're taken aback of course, probably by the American accent that seems to come from a man you previously thought was British. But you seem to completely brush it off and let out an exasperated sigh, though smiling at him nonetheless. "Donna never listens. I've told her so many times that the merchandise is wrong but she completely ignores me like I'm just some kind of annoying bug," you continue to ramble with Marc only half-listening to your words, nodding and shaking his head when necessary.

It is then that the friendship between you two really started. Conversations start short but as you get to know each other, they start getting longer and longer, with you doing most of the talking and Marc chirping in with his own opinions and stories now and then. Marc had come to really enjoy your company which is odd for him since he usually was not a big fan of people who talk too much. But for some reason, as long as it's you who is doing the talking, he doesn't seem to mind at all.

After a few weeks of doing this, Marc noticed that his interest in you ("Still not calling it a crush, Steven.") had grown stronger and, if Marc's body language reading is to be trusted, then you've been showing reciprocating feelings as well. So, one day, he asks you out.

It starts like any other day with you complaining to Donna about the usual stuff and Steven switching with Marc. It's started to become sort of a routine really, one that Marc very much appreciates Steven for doing with him. Maybe Steven just likes the fact that he doesn't have to deal with Donna because of this. Either way, Marc appreciates it.

After babbling to Donna and her leaving, you stomp over to where Marc is standing and talk his ear off, the anger visibly showing in your face as you punch the air and scream into the palm of your hand now and then to not disturb any other guests in the museum. To any other person, you would look insane but to Marc? You just looked very endearing and he just couldn't help himself.

"Would you go on a date with me?"

Your body stiffens, fists pausing mid-air-punching and mouth agape. You blink. He blinks. Everything is still for just a second before-

"WHAT?!"

Marc flinches at your loud and booming voice, the people around you two immediately turn their heads to stare, including Donna who is glaring daggers into your soul. Marc glares back and Donna visibly startles, but quickly puts on her usually cocky composure before scoffing and walking further away.

He then turns to you again and watches as you profusely apologize to all the other visitors and workers in the museum for your ruckus, polite "Sorry"s and "My apologies"s pouring out your mouth. When people finally look away and focus back on their work and the artifacts, your head snaps back to him so fast, Marc is concerned for the well-being of your neck. "Yes. Of course, I'll go on a date with you." You quietly proclaim, a wide and happy grin on your face. Marc can't help but let out a quiet coo which earns him a light slap to the face from you.

After exchanging numbers, (Jake scolds him for never asking before and Marc ignores him, as usual.) you tell him that you don't want the date to be something too big as you’re not very used to big crowds or fancy dinners. Steven advises Marc to invite you into their humble abode and watch a movie. Marc tells Steven "That's a stupid idea, our apartment is a mess, no thanks to you." He says, his eyes drifting across the room where a variety of Steven's books and other miscellaneous items are carelessly thrown around the small studio. Steven scoffs and offers to clean up the room for him to which Marc stares at him suspiciously but agrees anyway. Jake tells him to watch your favorite movie since apparently, Marc has bad taste in movies. He can't believe they're wingmanning him right now.

So, he texts you their address, asks what your favorite movie is, and sets everything up for your small movie date. Not Marc's ideal kind of date but, it's your favorite movie. You're bound to talk a lot and Marc loves hearing you talk.

He'll tell Khonshu he won't be going on patrol today, and he will accept it as it is no matter what.

You never stop talking while watching the movie, pausing and commenting on every little detail that appears in each scene, and usually, this would annoy the fuck out of Marc. He likes watching his movies uninterrupted. But when it's you, and you're giving him these looks and these smiles, with your hands waving about as you explain how a certain shot was filmed, he finds that he doesn't mind. He thinks that he wouldn't mind listening to you talk and talk all day long if you would let him.

He's got it bad

Oh definitely

"Shut up." Marc quietly mutters at the annoying idiots inside of his head.

But then he hears your mouth snap shut, the comforting sound of your voice gone, making Marc turn towards you in concern. Your eyes that last shined with excitement is replaced by a gloomy look and your mouth is pulled tightly downwards into a frown. You didn't continue talking. He tilts his head in confusion at your sudden silence but before he could ask, Marc's eyes widen at the realization that you've heard him and misunderstood. He raises his hands in an act of showing comfort, his gaze automatically softening. "Not you." He says, then hesitantly grabs your hands that you had clutched close to your chest and held them in his. "God, no, not you. Please continue, I like hearing you talk." His voice is quiet at the last sentence, the tips of his ears growing red at his straight-forwardness. He doesn't take it back though when he notices the abashed look on your pretty face, the faintest pink dusted on your cheeks. Your mouth is hung open and your eyes are looking at him with so much love and adoration. If this wasn't the first date, he would've given you a short peck on the lips with how adorable you absolutely looked. Kinda reminds him of Gus a little bit.

Marc stares into your eyes for a while, the warm feeling in his heart growing warmer and warmer the longer he stares. You look beautiful like this. All of your small imperfect details glow perfectly under the light that emits from the TV. He can hear Jake urging him to "just kiss already" in the back of his head but he knows better than to listen to the man. Again, this is the first date after all.

So he takes your hands and slowly brings them up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles. The rest of your face goes bright red at this and you quickly pull your hand away and turn your face to go back to watching the movie. If Marc wasn't paying attention, he would've been offended at this gesture but it was obvious to anyone that you were simply only flustered at his flirtatious antics.

He lets out an amused huff of laughter and continues to sit and pretend like he's paying attention to the screen when it is obvious that the only thing his attention is on, is you. You and your flailing hands and beautiful voice ramble on and on, completely drowning out Jake and Steven's teasing coming from the mirror behind him.

There are a million other voices in his head, not belonging to any of the other guys but simply his own, yelling at him that this is a bad idea, that getting attached to you is a bad idea, that even being around you right now is already a danger to your life. But, Marc doesn't focus on that. Not right now. Right now, he focuses on you and the way you've just paused the movie again, pointing at one of the characters and spouting out whatever complaint or praise that you have for them.

Marc only stares with love-struck eyes, not paying attention and thinking in his head about how terribly screwed he is for falling so fast for your loud and non-stop babbling mouth with his stupid grin that never seems to leave his face when he's around you.

So what if he's acting like a lovesick fool right now?

If it's with you, he doesn't mind too much.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #x reader #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader imagine #marc spector x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #moon knight x reader

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vampirzina · 2 years

Text

Cooking by the Book

How the moon boys’ would help out in the kitchen. Or at least try to.

Masterlist | AO3

warnings: none, except maybe burnt food and playing with food. all love and fluff here

written in headcanon format

Let's make cupcakes!

Marc Spector

Cupcakes? For what? For who?

He knows he doesn't have to help, but he does anyway because he loves you

When you point out the book recipe, he tries to adhere to it but he often either mixes up the portions or gets it right

He accidentally added a little bit more flour than water, so he adds more water to try and fix it

Makes it worse

"No, babe, it's okay," You laugh. "I'll fix it. Can you turn on the oven? It says to preheat the oven to 350."

Simple enough, so he doesn't mess up and is done in less than a minute

Back hugs and neck kisses when you're stirring the batter

When you're done and the cupcakes in the oven, Marc lets you do the frosting instead of attempting it

He watches the sheer concentration on your face

Oh yeah, the icing is interesting too

When both the cupcakes and icing is done, you offer to let him put the icing on them

Makes a mess of it

It turns into a battle of him trying to put the leftover icing somewhere on you and you trying not to get icing in your hair

Let's make cookies!

Steven Grant

Honestly something just really simple

Again, you two are following the book recipe for chocolate chip

He reads the recipe first before attempting it

Has his reading glasses on to make sure he reads the portions right

If he's not sure he asks you

"It doesn't matter the order, right?"

He's better at portions than Marc, not perfect, but good enough

He takes his time with the batter to make sure most of the measurements are right

Once he's got the batter down, you stir it and ask him to set up the parchment paper, pan and oven

He refers to the book for instructions too even though he trusts you know what you're doing

Because he definitely doesn't

You and him make a couple shapes with the cookies and then pop them in the oven

He reads the recipe over one more time before joining you to cuddle and let them cook

Yeah... Cuddle. You guys fell asleep.

Woke up to the smell of burning and Steven still asleep below you, somehow not even smelling the smoke to move even a little

You managed to save the cookies before they went up in flames, and it was just awful. The oven would have to be thoroughly cleaned later

Burnt burnt burnt. Everything burned, through and through

"Aw," Steven crooned. "All burnt, aren't they? Sorry, love." Disappointed, you shook your head, "It's fine. It's really not, but it's fine."

Lots of kisses afterwards like it was his fault (you told him it wasn't, but he still showered you with apologies and kisses anyway)

Steven bought you cookies to make up for it the next day

Let's make alfredo!

Jake Lockley

Jake has better sense when cooking than other two but not by a wide margin

He wanted to make something a lot more complicated, but you weren't in the mood

He already didn't want to bake anything sweet, so you had to scramble to find something else and save baking for another day

Music. He plays music while you two are in the kitchen and cooking something

He doesn't actually help much. Just be around you and watch the food being made

It's not that he barely helps, he just has a distraction: You

He's more touchy with you than the pasta or the alfredo sauce that needs to be made

Luckily the pasta isn't the worst part of it

He follows you from the book to the food while he back hugs you

When you're stirring the base for the sauce, he holds your hands and stirs with you

Like Marc, lots of tender kisses

He adds the cheese for you and takes over the sauce while you finish the straining the pasta

Puts away the book entirely when he thinks you’re not looking

He's not much of a talker when the music is playing, he just likes watching you cook and not being too much in the way, and you enjoy his company

Adding the finishing touches to the food, you two eat and watch a movie

#moonknight fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x gender neutral reader #cooking headcanons #moon knight fluff #passion-75

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avatar-of-procrastination · 2 years

Text

MERCENARIES

Summary : after many years, you finally come to terms with marcs death, only to find find a familiar face on the streets

Pairings : Marc Spector x mercenary!Reader , mentions of Steven and Khonshu

A.N + Warnings : something i wrote because i love the idea of marc and a mercenary reader. I wrote this fic with as much knowledge of DID i gathered from the show and few websites. Please lmk if i write something wrong. I will remove/change it asap. I dont mean to disrespect anyone.

Divider by @firefly-graphics <33 + gifs not mine

You refused to believe that it was him standing in front of you, after all these years. Marc Spector, your partner, one of the best mercenaries you had the privilege to work with (and coincidentally the man you had a crush on) had died years ago. At least that's what you had heard and believed until now. You were broken hearted when you heard the news and went AWOL for moths. Seeing him standing in front of you made you certain that you had finally lost it.

You remembered that day clearly. You were at the small apartment you called home, calling every possible contact in your phone to get a hold of Marc. You knew he had a mission in Egypt but that was 3 months ago. Most missions only took a few weeks because no one could let their identity slip up. You fiddled with the Rubik's cube Marc bought for you when you finally landed a hold of his boss who informed you that Marc Spector had died in the sands of Egypt. The phone slipped from your hand as you tried to control the sobs that left you. You never had actually thought of the possibility of Marc dying. He was always vigilant and alert. The news of his death shattered you.

And yet, here he was, in the flesh, in front of you. You noticed that he grew out his hair and that it matched his perfectly sculpted face. You were sure you were dreaming until you heard him call out your name. All at once you felt yourself transported to the late nights the two of you would spend under the moonlight, drinking and laughing without a care in the world. You had tried to confess to him many a times but always stopped yourself, fearing he didn't like you in the same way. You snapped back to reality when you felt a warm hand touch your shoulder. You jerked away from him, anger seeping through every cell in your body. You pushed him away, causing a few of the people in the street to look at you.

"Y/N!" Marc called out. You ignored him and the tears in your eyes as you continued to walk away from him. He walked behind you, hurt by your reactions, still calling out your name.

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into an alleyway and you almost kicked him in the face. "What is it, Spector." Your voice was laced with anger and venom. You never called him by his last name. You only did it to people you absolutely despised.

"Please. I need your help."

You simply scoffed at him and rolled your eyes. You couldn't help it. He was alive. You knew the rational reaction should've been happiness that he was in front of you. But all you could feel was hatred, hurt and betrayal. The fact that he was alive for all these years and only thought of reaching out for you, the one who helped him get up on his feet after he was discharged from the Army, when he needed some help.

"Why should I help you?" Marc looked around nervously, as if something would attack him any moment. He pulled you deeper into the alleyway and explained everything that happened after the mission in Cairo. Khonshu, the Moon Knight, Harrow, Layla and his mothers death. The mention of his wife was like a blow to your guts. Your eyes watered but you turned away, determined to not let him know just how much you were hurting.

"Khonshu has been making me do his bidding, Y/N. And now my life is bleeding in with Stevens." You knew about the medical condition Marc had. You had never actually met Steven but Marc opened up to you about himself on one night.

You sighed, still livid at the man. He had already broken your heart once. You weren't sure if you could go through the memories of him all over again. But one look at the man in front of you, you realized he was just as broken as you were, eyes heavy and glossed over, you knew you'd do everything to help him.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Marc?" He perked up a little bit when he heard his name roll out of your mouth. Oh he could kiss you for eternity. But he stopped himself, instead opting to hug you tightly. You melted into his touch and breathed in his scent. You felt safe around him, a feeling he reciprocated. He pulled back lightly.

"I need you to keep an eye out on Steven, Y/N. He works in a gift shop in a museum. Recently, I switched in the middle of a fight and he was scared shitless. I don't want him to know about Khonshu and Moon Knight. He already thinks hes going crazy and I don't want him to hurt himself. Please."

You slowly nodded your head agreeing to help the man you loved, blissfully unaware that in the course of the next few weeks, he'd manage to make you fall in love with him all over again.

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deadqueerboys · 2 years

Text

Steven: I'm busy. Try again.

Marc: Wtf is he doing?

Jake: Acting like a machine, it was a gamble.

Khonshu: Steven, what is love?

Steven: ...busy. Try again.

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Text

Burning Wood

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets a boner.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: One day I'll have to answer for my sins.

Warnings: blow job in a forest, Marc calling reader 'baby', getting a boner in public and being a little into it, swearing, typos - my head is really not in the game atm, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1831

Marc pressed his cold nose into your neck as he hugged you from behind. You shiver, instinctively flinching away from his touch and he giggles.

He presses his nose against you again.

“Marc,” you chastise, but there’s humour in your voice.

“What?” He grins, obviously knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“How is your nose so freezing?”

“How is your neck so warm?”

You chuckle and sigh, putting your hands over his arms. You both stare at the bonfire for a moment longer.

“I don’t get how you can be cold standing next to this thing,” you motion your hands to the flames.

Marc jogs on the spot a little, just to amuse you. “It’s cold, let’s stand closer.”

You laugh. “We’ll be in the fire.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles into your neck again and kisses your skin lightly. “Nice and toasty.”

So far, Marc had enjoyed visiting your family, even if they did live in the middle of nowhere. He thought he was going to go a little stir crazy at first, playfully making shinning jibes, but then he’d kind of… got used to it. The stillness. The forest walks. The tiny village with the population of 62.

A few kids ran around with sparklers under the watchful gaze of their parents, several people held out marshmallows need the flames. There was warm mead and hot chocolate if anyone wanted it.

Marc sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder for a second before he muttered, “my hands are cold too.”

“Marc,” you laugh, “you’re wearing gloves.”

“I know.”

“Well, you’re not putting them on me.”

“But you’re so warm.” He teases, tensing his arms as if he’s going to move and try to sneak under your shirt.

“Fuck off.” You grin and grab hold of his hands to stop them going anywhere.

“That’s not nice,” he pouts playfully. “I’m going to freeze to death and you're not going to help me?”

“You are not, besides, I thought Chicago got pretty cold? Shouldn’t you be used to this?” You tease.

He grumbles something into your shoulder.

“What?”

“I said, Chicago isn’t damp cold. Here’s damp cold. Gets into everything.”

You snort. “Aww, poor baby.”

“Yeah,” he nods and kisses your cheek. “Poor me, where’s the sympathy for me?”

You can hear the grin in his voice, he always loved playing up because it made you laugh. Though he seemed a little extra needy right now. Not normally the one for physical affection in public. Maybe the darkness of the night helped.

The bonfire snaps a little, still going strong and you pat Marc’s hair with your gloved hand as you lean back against him.

He sighs, pressing his face into your shoulder as you brush against the semi-hard outline of cock.

You pause. Ah. So that was why he was being so handsy.

“Ohhhhh,” you whisper, dragging out the word to be a menace and lean back again a little to press against his bulge. “I see, hugging me so that you can use me as a shield for prying eyes are you?”

“No.” He says into your shoulder, his voice obscured by your coat.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well I’ll just-” You go to move but his arms tighten around you.

“Stay here.”

You giggle.

He lifts his head up and kisses your cheek again. “I did not hug you to use you as a shield,” he tries to sound stern but the smile in his voice wins out. “I came to hug you and…”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And then this happened.”

“From a hug?” You say disbelievingly.

“Hmm,” he grumbles.”You smell nice.”

You laugh, “I smell like burning wood.”

“Yeah, well, that and your natural smell,” he nuzzles into your neck again and breathes deeply. “Smells really good. Smells like… comfort, or something.”

Despite the sweet tone to his words, you can’t resist a tease. “And that made you horny?”

He tuts and rolls his eyes, giving you a little squeeze. “Yes, okay, it made me really horny. Happy?”

You pause and then nod, “yes.” You say with a touch too much enthusiasm and Marc laughs.

“Okay, well good to have your approval.”

You smile and lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest. There’s a pause before you push back a little more, rubbing against his erection again.

He stifles a moan into your coat. “Stop it.” He hisses, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“Stop what?” You say innocently.

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Marc.” You punctuate the end of the sentence by gently leaning back and rolling your hips against him.

He groans softly and presses into you. You hear the click in his throat as he swallows. “Do you want me to come in my jeans? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.” He hisses.

“What?” You say, all mock surprise. “So quickly.”

He lets out a little grunt of annoyance and presses his face back into your coat.

The realisation that maybe Marc Spector was a little into the risk of being caught started to piece together in your mind.

You pause for a second before deciding. “Okay.” You pull out of his embrace and turn to face him.

“Okay?” He startles, his eyebrows pinched together in disappointment, thinking the game is over.

“Hmm,” you smile sweetly and take his hand before you start walking and urging him to follow. It takes him a second to get the hint.

No one else seems to notice, or mind, as you both head away from the celebrations. Following the little well trodden path that leads back to the village.

Marc follows close, a step behind until you are far enough away from the bonfire to be seen by anyone there, but close enough that the light from it just about illuminates your path.

You guide him off the trail into the thick outcrop of trees.

“Baby, what are we-”

You silence him with a harsh kiss, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips in surprise. He moans instantly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close even as you push him up against a thick oak tree.

He kisses back needily, his breathing already ragged and cheeks warm. His nose, however, is still cold.

You kiss his cheek lightly before you trail your lips down his jaw and nip lightly at his pulse point.

He groans, bucking against you and squirming a little, biting his lip to keep himself vaguely quiet.

“Didn’t realise you had a thing for the outside.” You tease and Marc huffs.

“I don’t.”

“Sure, sure,” you suck on his neck and he gasps, his body bending toward you, trying to wrap itself around you. You slowly run your hands down to his cock, the poor thing trapped in the tight confines of his jeans.

He groans again, the sound grumbling through his chest and into you. “Baby,” he bites his lip, and even though you can’t make out his exact expression in the poor light, you can picture it perfectly in your mind. How his brow furrowed needily, how wide his pupils were.

You unbuckle his belt, the sound of the leather opening makes his eyes roll back and he has to bite his tongue to stop the loud moan that threatens to escape.

He stays still as he can as you undo his jeans, his hands on your arms, needing to touch you and keep you close despite wanting to give you room to manoeuvre.

And when you sink to your knees he shudders, throwing his head back against the tree bark and sighing softly.

You take your gloves off and shove them into your coat pocket.

“Baby, I-” He swallows down his words, screwing his eyes tight as your warm hands pull him free and you suck on his head.

Precum spreads across your tongue, salty and rich as you moan softly, the reverberations running down the length of him and making his muscles twitch.

You pull back, just enough to pump the length of his a few times while your other hand massages his balls, one finger lightly pressing on his perineum.

He shudders, sighing out into the darkness as you lap at his weeping slit with the flat of your tongue, running it along and swirling around his tip before swallowing him down.

He cries out, grabbing hold of your shoulders as you take him as deeply as you can. He fights the urge to buck up and thrust himself completely in your throat, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move up and down, drawing his pleasure out like poison from a bite. He tries to fight against it, tries to prolong the sensation as long as he can, to relax into it. But he’s too worked up, too desperate. And his orgasm rapidly approaches.

The earth and dead leaves are soft under your knees, the dampness of the dirt soaking a little into your trousers, but you don’t mind. Focusing solely on Marc’s little whimpers and pleads, sounds you’re sure he doesn’t even realise he’s making.

How his legs shake, how his cock twitches in your throat, how his fingers dig into you.

He rolls his hips slightly, panting and you know he’s close, practically there. Warmth builds in your chest, pride at how trusting he is with you, how he knows you’ll take care of him.

You sink lower, relaxing your throat as much as you can and slipping him a centimetre further inside.

Marc gasps, the sound loud but not enough to raise suspicion, he bucks once, swearing and trying to mutter a warning but you press closer to him and swallow as he spirts into your throat.

He shakes as stars explode behind his eyes, as pleasure washes over him and momentarily rids him of his strength. He moans your name softly, gasping and keeping a firm hold on your shoulder to keep himself upright.

You keep moving, letting him ride his orgasm out before you lick him clean and tuck him back into his jeans.

You laugh a little as you try to get the zip up.

“What?” He smiles, his voice floaty and wonderfully blissed out.

“I can’t get your jeans closed with your dick still hard.” You giggle.

“Oh,” he chuckles and helps you to your feet. “Don’t worry about it.” He kisses your cheek, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before he kisses your lips and holding you close.

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah, well, we’re going back to the house anyway.”

“Oh, are we?” You smile.

He nods.

“I thought we were going back to the bonfire?” You tease.

He growls playfully, kissing the spot just under your ear. “Oh no, we’re going back and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress and make you scream while the village is empty and everyone else is here.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Note

hello, can you do prompt 2 with marc spector please? thanks 🤍

Touch of Love (Marc Spector x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?

Prompt: Head or shoulder massages

A/N: Thanks for the ask, nonnie! Ew, I'm so soft for Marc it's bad. Liddle bit of hurt + comfort <3

Warnings: Marc is hurt :(

Word count: 968 words

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were shaken awake as your boyfriend slowly pulled your arms off from around his body. The bed dipped as he sat up and let out a loud sigh, followed by a sniff.

“Marc? What’s the problem?” you slowly drag as you pull yourself out of your sleepy state to feel for his hand that was planted on the bed.

“It’s nothing, angel, go back to sleep.” Marc’s voice seemed heavier than usual, almost thick with tears and that made you shoot up with panic, your hand scrambling to find the switch to the bedside lamp.

You flung yourself out of bed and walked around it, kneeling in front of Marc. It was then when you noticed that one of his hands was tightly clutching at his shoulder and his face was stained with tears. The crease between his eyebrows seemed deeper than usual, with the way his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes screwed shut.

“Oh baby, what’s the matter?” you say, gently rubbing at his thigh.

“It hurts.” Marc whispered as tears escaped his tightly shut eyes.

Your hands quickly come up to his face to wipe away his tears as your heart broke for him. Marc never usually expresses his pain to anyone and you were pretty sure it was absolutely excruciating if he admitted it to you so quickly. His body was shaking slightly and his hand kept trying to knead a spot on his shoulder.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to help you alright?” you rub his arm as your other hand comes down to the edge of his sweater.

He raised his arms up as you pulled and you noticed that his left arm was raised significantly less than his right one, so your hand shot out to hold his left wrist as you navigated the sweater slowly off his frame. Marc whimpered slightly as you slowly yanked the sweater off him and you soothed him with your words of encouragement and a few kisses to his forehead.

You hurried to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a few extra strength painkillers along with some pain ointment. You stopped at the window to glare at the moon that graced the sky, blaming it for your lovely boyfriend’s ailment. Khonshu’s ceremonial armour healed Marc from flesh wounds and cuts, but it left a dull ache that manifested to muscle pain that Marc could not help but live with. It took a toll on his body and left him feeling fatigued. You rushed to Marc’s side again and handed him the tablets, helping him drink them down with a little bit of water.

“That's it, that's good. Alright, tell me where it hurts.” you say softly, crawling onto the bed and taking a seat behind him.

“Left shoulder,” he mumbled.

“And?” Sometimes you realised that Marc needed a little bit of a push and you were there to give him your all.

“I think a muscle in my neck pulled. My head is pounding too.” he whispered and you placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to shiver slightly.

You squeezed a little bit of the ointment onto the space between Marc’s shoulder and neck, slowly rubbing it down with your finger tips, not applying much pressure.

“Marc, this is going to hurt a little, just bear with me, it’ll get better, I promise.” Marc nodded at your soft words and you sat up slightly and got to work.

You bared down your weight on your palm as you pressed into Marc’s shoulder, making him groan loudly and claw at your fingers. You persisted, ignoring Marc’s pleas to stop as you kneaded the knotted muscle, testing its tension under your fingers. You continued to press as hard as your grip strength could go until Marc groans dissipated into soft sighs. You handled his neck a little more gently, careful not to press too hard at his spine, using two knuckles to slowly ease the pain away.

“Mmm, thank you baby, you’re too good to me.” Marc mumbled and you shushed him with another kiss to his skin.

Marc was slowly turning into putty as his state of pain altered into something more relaxing. Your touch was like morphine and he was pretty sure that you had magic fingers that knew every nook and cranny that was damaged in his body. You were now pressing spots that he was too shy to admit was hurting and he sighed in relief as you smiled knowingly.

You had pulled him into a different position and he was now lying on his front with his head buried in the pillows as you worked your way up and down the broad plain of his back. You could visibly see him relax into your soft rhythm and could tell that the pain medications were doing their jobs.

When you were done, you sat beside him and turned him over so that his head was on your lap. Marc’s eyes were hazily staring up at you and you bent down to kiss his nose, causing them to flutter close as you giggled delightfully. You started to draw pressured circles on the side of his temple and a loud exhale escaped Marc and you knew you hit the right spot. You alternated softly pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging his temples for a bit before burying your hands in his curls and pressing at his scalp.

You were so focused that you only snapped out of it when you heard a soft snore emitting from Marc. You smiled happily at how peaceful his face looked and bathed in the fact that you managed to get him to fall asleep comfortably. You placed a soft kiss onto his lips and played with his hair until you yourself lost consciousness.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~~~

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silversweetpea · 2 years

Text

Waiting Up

Word Count: 1431

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (very very minor allusions to Steven Grant x Reader)

Summary: Waiting up for your boyfriend to come home leads to some interesting conversations.

Warnings: Marc is tired and a little stressed but nothing beyond that.

Author’s Note: This just in i still miss the boys :(((( also I get sad thinking about Marc preshow returning back to the apartment alone and dealing with all that guilt and grief and how upsetting dealing with everything on his own must have been.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

“You didn’t need to wait up,” it’s almost sunrise when Marc limps his way home. The man looks like a ghost in his own skin, gaunt and stretched beyond his limits. The sleep tugging at your eyelids retreated at the sight of your partner’s exhaustion and the blanket you had been curled up under as you watched television comes with you when you stand to approach him.

“Of course I did, Taylor Swift is dropping a new album any day now and I’ll be damned if I don’t catch up on the conspiracy tweets her fans make while they’re still fresh.” Marc’s lips barely twitch but twitch they do. You get close enough to wrap your arms around his waist and bring him into your cacoon of warmth.

Those tired, haunted eyes flutter closed as he rests his head against you at the embrace. Parts of you want to drop the facade and the jokes, to tell him that you would wait for him every minute of every day for the rest of eternity so long as it meant that he never came home without someone to chase away that ghosts that came with him. Those parts of you hold him a little bit tighter in your arms and remind yourself that intimacy takes time.

“Besides, it’s hard to sleep without my favorite hoodie and you took it with you.” That one gets a bit closer to a laugh. You feel the smile on your skin and feel the rush of air that slips past him. “Nice to see it return in one peice.” Nice to see you in one piece too.

“I’ll run my wardrobe by you next time.” Marc whispers, the two of you starting to sway ever so slightly in the open space of the apartment’s living room. You hate that there’s going to be a next time.

“You better. If you warn me with enough time I can make sure to send you with that soup you like. Good to drink if it’s cold out and the metal thermos would make a good last ditch weapon.” He doesn’t smell like blood at least today, but you can see the way he favors his right side, and after so long together you’re fairy sure you can pinpoint it as a monster of a bruise. You can feel his words on your skin more than you can hear him, and the way he buries his head in the crook of your neck makes it hard to see his expressions.

“You should go to sleep, your jokes suck this early in the morning.” There’s no venom in the words though and his arms had snaked around your own waist when you hadn’t noticed. The sun is peaking through the curtains ever so slightly, the sky turning shades of pink and gold that cast heavenly light on the man in your arms.

“I will in a minute, want to make sure my guy’s okay first.” You free up a single hand to brush through his curls.

“I’m fine. Suit makes sure I don’t bleed out.” There’s a distance in his tone that makes you uncomfortable. It’s not his fault, you’re not sure it’s even on purpose, but it never gets easier to hear Marc brushing off your concern for his wellbeing. And Gods and Goddesses know it never gets easier to hear him talk so candidly about his own wellbeing.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.” You don’t tell him that the suit doesn’t do anything to help with the things he brings home with him, he doesn’t need a therapist right now. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Not hungry.” It’s less of a scentence and more of a grunt. Avoiding the question. It’s been way too long for sure.

“That’s not what I asked.” You try again gently but Marc lets out a sigh that tickles as it brushes past you.

“Can we go lay down?” The soft blanket frames his face as he looks to you, soft blue against his dark curls and making it impossible to say no to him.

“You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are. I can still order breakfast from bed.” The smile arrives in full force as you meander towards the bed, the both of you still entangled within each other, neither eager to be apart after his time away.

“I’d love to see you try.” Your boyfriend yawns and you laugh. You make sure to set your cellphone just out of his reach on your side of the bed before slipping in next to him.

“Hey, Marc?” He gave a hum of a response as you curled up next to him in the mountain of blankets, his eyes already closed in an failed fight with rest. You think of all the things you want to say to him before he slips into sleep. I’m glad you’re safe. You worried me. Thank you for letting me be here for you. I love you. Please don’t go again. “Are you still staying home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Steven took the day off work and Khonsu is off somewhere.” The anxiety in your chest subsides ever so slightly. You take one of his hands in yours, thumb resting on his pulse.

“Good, you both need to take better care of yourselves.” Familiar arms snake around you once more, pulling you towards him as he opens his eyes once more.

“It’s fine, I’m okay.” He says so every time, and yet tonight he can’t stop looking at you every time he manages to open his eyes. As if he was worried he would never see you again, as if he almost didn’t. One of his hands climbs up from your waist to rest on your face, cradle your expression as he brings his lips to your forehead. It’s supposed to sooth you, remind you that he’s here, but instead it makes your throat tight with the want to cry.

“Marc, if I was an avata-”

‘You wouldn’t be.” His voice is tight and you almost feel bad for pushing the topic.

“If I was, and I had to do what you do, would you believe me when I told you I was okay?” You've had to use this argument before and it never gets easier to feel the way he pulls you closer, his pulse picking up slightly faster in the hand that you hold. The silence that settled over the bedroom was heavy in a way that was unique to these post mission conversations. You struggle to meet his eyes in the quiet, to see the raw emotion within them at the situation you’ve proposed.

No matter how many times you bring the conversation up, how many times you turn the tables to make him see what he’s doing to himself, at the mere mention of you taking up a mantle of your own Marc never wants to talk about it. There’s too much fear and anger and desperation that rises in his gaze, eyes scanning you as if trying to force you into this thoughts to see his way in the matter. Even now with his eyes heavy with sleep, one hand on your cheek to gently stroke, he looks more determined than tired.

“You wouldn’t be an avatar.” He whispers and you bring his wrist to your lips.

‘It’s hypothetical.” Marc shakes his head, finally letting his eyes slip closed again.

‘Even hypothetically, I wouldn’t let it happen.” The warmth in your chest is nearly all consuming. It’s said so surely that it leaves no room for argument. Marc wouldn’t let you become an avatar, wouldn’t let you entertain it even for a minute. It can be easy to overlook his way of loving sometimes, he’s not nearly as vocal as Steven but its just as easy to loose yourself in when you catch moments like this. To see Marc, so tired, so beat down from tasks that he still can’t bring himself to tell you about, limp in your arms and still focused on your safety in a hypothetical situation. It’s nothing short of

“Well in that case you better take care of yourself so you can keep an eye on me." You nestle yourself further in his arms, deciding that breakfast could wait until your favorite cafe down the block opened up. Marc’s breathing is already slow and steadying out, likely sleeping even as you press another kiss to his cheek. "Don’t know what I’d do without my hero to keep me in line.”

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector imagines #Marc Spector x gender neutral reader #Marc Spector Fluff

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years

Text

used; marc spector & steven grant & jake lockley

pair. marc spector & steven grant & jake lockley x gn!reader

summ. your mother figure uses you and upsets you so much that you stumble to steven's apartment and all three of the boys try to comfort you

gen. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

tw. vague emotional abuse, mentions marc's abusive mom, toxic parental relationships, a death threat (from jake to ur mom, kind of), and mentions food at the end

wc. 1000+

note. vent fic sorry :( also tried giving the boys equal time but idk how well i did. also i feel like this is kinda all over the place but eh

It's a strange thing for the person who's supposed to be like a mother to you to use you as she does. And now that you stop letting her use you like the piece of meat you feel like, she's sad and angry and disappointed. And your heart feels choked up and you're crying now. You lose your appetite and are sick to your stomach. You very much want to throw yourself into a street. But unfortunately for you, your body takes over as you retreat inside your mind, leading you to Steven's apartment. Your body slumps you against his door and quickly it's opened.

"What are you doing here?" Jake asks. Then he sees the tears and Steven takes over.

"Dear?" He bends down, caressing your cheek. "Come on," He wraps an arm around you and leans you against him, wrapping an arm around you, and guiding you inside.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," You mutter over and over again into his shoulder as your head falls against him.

"What?" Steven looks at you with curious, concerned eyes as he sits next to you on the edge of his bed. "What have you got to be sorry for?" He takes a hold of your hand, rubbing his thumb over the top of it.

You shake your head, "No, no, no." You squeeze your eyes shut and more and more tears fall.

Steven's face falls before Marc fronts.

Marc pulls you into his chest, combing his fingers through your hair at the back of your head. "Hey," He whispers, "Can you please tell me what's wrong?"

You start to hiccup as your cries grow worse. "I'm sorry," You howl out.

"Sorry for what, sweetheart?" Marc leans in close his forehead lightly pressing against yours almost a feather-like touch and the warmth of his breath fans against your face.

Your eyes flicker up, looking into his. Your lips immediately curl down further; a significant grimace. "I don't wanna talk about it," You manage to answer with quivering lips and bleary eyes. "Please, I don't wanna-" You're cut off by Marc pulling you against him again.

He rubs one hand up and down your back. His other hand cradles your head. Marc closes his eyes and Steven takes his place.

Steven pulls back, holding the base of your neck, looking at you so sympathetically. He shakes a little bit before he leans in pressing kisses against your forehead. It's something he only does when he knows you're having an especially hard time. "What can I do, love?" His forehead presses against yours almost like Marc's had but he's a little more confident in touching you (which any other time would not be the case).

Your lips quiver as you look into his eyes and he holds your hands. Then you watch Steven's eyes roll back and hear Jake's voice.

"Who's the pendejo I have to kill?"

That actually makes you laugh. Jake was always quick to anger but it was just because he was very protective of you, of Marc and Steven too; that's just his nature. He's a natural-born protector if you will. You look at him with eyes that are far brighter than they've been and you give his hands a little squeeze. "I don't want you to kill my mom… or anyone for that matter."

"Your mom?" He asks softly. His eyes are soft as he looks at you and it makes you want to cry even more.

"Yeah…" You nod. You know this is a sore topic given Marc's mom's treatment of them. You look away, not able to meet his gaze. You sniffle and bring up a hand to your nose holding it there for a second before bringing it up further to wipe the tears from your eyes. Your other hand still holds his and your breath hitches when he gives it a squeeze.

"Your mom, what did she do?" He squeezes your hand again gently.

"She just- She used me for something." You swallow, feeling a lump form in your throat. "That's all I wanna say right now," You drop your head and lean your body forward, softly crashing your head against his shoulder.

"Okay," You hear Jake say and you assume he's talking to Marc and Steven. He then leans his head down, whispering in your ear, "We're gonna take care of you, cariño mío (my dear)." And you know he means it, his words are always true (not that Steven or Marc's aren't). He pulls you against him as he moves across the bed to sit up against the headboard while you lay on top of him. He runs his hand over your upper body, rubbing gently at your back and sides.

A few hours later. Your head rests in your hand as you sit watching Marc in the kitchen. After laying with Jake for a while, then Steven as he rambled on about Egypt, and then Marc just in silence, he saw the time and decided to cook for the both of you. And you happily watch him now, feeling a lot better than earlier but still somber. It's only natural after all. A smile tugs at your lips as Marc does a little trick for you, looking at you with a goofy smile -something you only see once in a blue moon, he's always so serious.

Another ten minutes go by and he plates the food before setting it out on the table, in front of you and himself. You two sit and eat quietly. You hum, savoring the taste. Marc's always been good at cooking, he just never really gets to exercise the skill. You compliment his cooking and the rest of the time is spent in comfortable silence. Marc finishes eating way before you do and reaches out for your hand, holding it gently while rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You look at him and smile and he does the same.

#murder writes #marc spector x reader #marc spector x gn reader #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector x gender neutral reader #marc spector x male reader #marc spector x male!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x gn reader #steven grant x gn!reader #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x male reader #steve grant x male!reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x gn reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #jake lockley x gender neutral reader #jake lockley x male reader #jake lockley x male!reader

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phantomspiderr · 2 years

Text

Petrichor - Part 1/6

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader, established Marc Spector x reader

Word count: 865

Summary: a little story of falling in love. Meeting you for the first time doesn't exactly go how Steven dreamt it would.

Warnings: a little fluff, a little disorientation and confusion on Steven's part and if you squint non-verbal Steven

a/n: little run down of the series here, if I'm missing any warnings or there are any problems please let me know. Please enjoy and be kind🤍

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

Why am I here?

Steven looks around the aisle he’s found himself in, disoriented by being pulled out to front the body and not being able to communicate with Marc right now isn’t helping with his confusion. He pats down his pockets in search for any indication of why he's standing in the middle of canned goods aisle.

You really couldn’t have stopped for a second to write a shopping list?

Steven sighs, ready to give up and just go home, he can ask Marc about what happened later, but then there you are walking towards him pushing a shopping cart. An adorable grin gracing your face when you lock eyes with him and he’s frozen.

“I found that almond butter you really like!” Your hand threads through his hair and he has to turn away from your gaze, instead staring at the soup on the shelf in front of him, “did you find what you were looking for?” If he thought he couldn’t breathe before he definitely can’t now that you’ve placed the most delicate kiss to his cheek. He can feel the red hot blush spreading already, this is definitely not how he wanted your first meeting to go. Steven's thoughts are racing, the person he’s been silently pining after is standing right next to him, combing their hand through his hair and smiling up at him. Since the first moment Marc had mentioned you, Steven had been lovestruck. Marc would share stories of dates he’d been on with you and he’d even ask Steven for advice, not that he thought he had much advice to give about relationships, and Steven would only find himself more drawn to you with each mention of your name. Steven’s only been co-conscious a handful of times when you’ve been around, he’s never fully fronted with you and he’s freaking out a little.

“You okay?” Steven finally rips his unfocused eyes away from the soup, moving to look at you again. Your face is furrowed, concern plastered all over it, “Marc?” Your hand has slipped from his hair to gently rub his back, he knows he has to say something he just doesn’t know what. He tries to open his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and your face relaxes, “it's okay honey. You don’t have to talk. Um, we’re at the store right now, y’know the one just down the road from the house. We’re picking up some groceries but we can leave if you’re not comfortable.” The sharpest ‘no’ slips past his lips and you smile, “Steven?” His gaze shies away from you as he silently nods a little. “Well hi, we haven't met before but Marc talks about you all the time,” you pull your hand away from his back and hold it out for him to shake and he chuckles a little at the gesture.

“Hi,” Steven slips his hand into yours and you shake it a little with that adorable grin gracing your face again. Steven can feels the anxiousness falling away, already feeling comfortable in your presence, almost like he’s been around you his whole life.

“So, you wanna finish shopping with me?” You drop his hand, much to his disappointment, and reach into your pocket. You pull out a piece of paper and hold it out to him, when he opens it to see a very organised shopping list he almost squeals. He even thinks he might love you already and he only met you a few minutes ago. “Why don’t you check off the list and I’ll push the cart?” You pull a pen out of your pocket and he accepts it with a smile. He appreciates the way you don’t require him to verbally communicate, happily starting to walk a little further down the aisle with Steven closely walking next to you.

Steven follows you around like a little puppy, he almost feels like a child when he preens at the praise you give him for finding the spaghetti that was on the list. Telling him he did a good job as he crosses it off the list and moves on to the next item with a smile. He likes when you call him ‘honey’ again after thanking him for pulling another item off the shelf for you but he especially likes when your hand returns to rubbing his back while you stand at the checkout. Steven wonders if it’s something you do with Marc, whether it’s something you do to comfort him or even yourself. You do it so absentmindedly as you people watch, waiting for your turn to be severed and Steven loves it. The domesticity of it all warms his heart but he wants more, more of this, more of you. The thought scares him a little, you're Marc’s partner and he’s sure Marc might be a little mad if he tells him about these rapidly growing feelings. But he’s pulled out of his thoughts when your hand gently grips his to tug him along, “come on, our turn.” And he’s back to just enjoying the domesticity, of being with you while he can, he’ll think about how to talk to Marc later.

series masterlist

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x you #steven grant my beloved #marc spector x gender neutral reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #marc spector x you #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

Text

Surrender to the Fire

Marc Spector x afab!reader (smut with no pronoun use, no use of y/n)

Word count: 2750

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), oral (both receiving), overstim, multiple orgasms, established relationship, switching

Notes: This has sat in my WIPs for weeks until I had the inspiration to finish but I’m really happy with how this turned out! I usually love a good dom!Marc but sometimes a little subby is what a man needs! Plus switching is more fun lol!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog to stay up to date on when I post

“Hey Marc…” you greeted into the home you shared with him as you walked in.

You froze, however, when you noticed that it looked like he hadn’t moved a muscle since you left hours ago. Marc stayed hunched over his desk in the far corner of the space as he mumbled to himself and scribbled notes down. Papers littered the area around him and only a small desk light lit up the room. He barely even acknowledged that you were back, too focused on his work.

“Marc,” you repeated in a sterner tone as you crossed the space and rested your hands on his shoulders, “You work too hard baby,” you squeezed the taut muscles as you felt him stiffen under your touch.

He sighed and leaned back to look up at you, “Hey baby,” he finally spoke, “I’m just so close to figuring this out I just need…”

“What you need,” you interjected as you spun his swivel chair around, “Is to take a break.”

Marc glared at you for interrupting him, but before he could let out a vocal protest, you dropped down to your knees between his spread legs. His mouth hung open as you looked up at him with a fire in your eyes. Any argument was lost as you ran your hands up his inner thighs and fiddled with the zipper of his pants.

“Baby…”

“Shhh,” you cooed as you tugged at the zipper.

A smirk lit up your face when you saw the fabric beneath your hands twitch and you knew you had Marc right where you wanted him. With expert precision, you easily freed his cock from his pants. Your mouth watered when you saw that he was half hard already just from your teasing touches.

Marc knew that you were aware of the effect you had on him. You were his ultimate weakness, and you both knew it. Just one look from you rendered him speechless and just one touch turned the usually hardened mercenary into a puddle of mush. Sometimes he hated how easily he fell to you. But, there were times like this when you knew exactly what he needed and how to give it to him, so he couldn’t complain too much.

He was absolutely in love with you after all.

“Shit baby,” Marc hissed as his hands landed on your scalp.

You didn’t reply with your words. Instead, you licked a long, slow, deliberate stipe up the length of Marc’s cock that sent a shiver up his spine. His grip on your scalp tightened as he gasped at the sensation. When you reached the tip, you flicked your tongue on the sensitive skin a few times before you wrapped your lips around it.

A low groan escaped Marc’s throat as you engulfed his cock with your mouth and sank down on it. He let out a string of curses as he surrendered to the warm wetness of your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down the entire length until he was rock hard for you.

With determination, you hallowed out your cheeks and sucked hard on his cock. A loud moan that Marc couldn’t control echoed in the room as you worked him the way you knew he liked. You dove into his body with your face and didn’t stop until your nose nuzzled the skin of his lower stomach.

You gagged on his length, but you didn’t let up as you pulled back and then forward again. Marc’s grip on your scalp tightened as you repeated the action several times. Every time you lunged forward, you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and it burned so good. You knew he was enjoying it too from the string of groans and curses he let out.

Needing a breath, you pulled back and let go of his cock. A string of spit connected the two of you as you inhaled deeply and looked up at Marc with glossy eyes. The two of you stayed still for several moments, completely lost in each other’s gaze.

When he whispered your name, you leaned forward again and wrapped your lips around his cock once more. He hissed as you swirled your tongue around him and poked at the prominent veins along his shaft. After you teased him, you swallowed his entire length again and devoured him like a popsicle on a hot summer day.

“Fuuuuck,” Marc growled loudly as he felt the familiar heat build up from deep within him.

You hummed into his body as you picked up your pace, determined to make him explode in your mouth.

It didn’t take long for you to get what you wanted, and after a few more pumps of his cock, Marc came hard into your mouth with a loud scream. He tugged at your scalp as his seed spilled into your mouth, and you sucked greedily for every last drop. Marc’s mind swam as he lost himself in the bliss that was your skilled tongue and warm mouth.

But even as he rode out his orgasm on your face, you didn’t stop. You kept going as you continued to suck and lick at his now overstimulated length. His entire body trembled as he felt like he could float out of his chair if it weren’t for your tight grip on his thighs. His eyes rolled back into his head as he leaned back.

“Baby… Shit…” he groaned through gritted teeth as he buried his hands in your scalp.

You hummed around Marc’s cock, which only added to the rush of emotions he felt. He felt both hot and cold at the same time, like he would burst into a million pieces and melt into a puddle. He wanted to scream and cry and moan all at once. Never before had Marc felt anything like this, never before had he been so overstimulated. And he never wanted you to stop.

Lucky for him, stopping was not in your agenda; unless Marc were to pull you off of him, you were determined to keep going. Usually, it was Marc who took charge and took care of you. Today though, you wanted to make him forget anything except for your mouth and your name. It was a rush to have such a strong and tough man in the palm of your hand, and you loved how he instantly melted for you. You knew not to take his surrender for granted, and you were grateful he allowed you to pleasure him like this.

You hallowed out your cheeks and sucked hard as you bobbed your head up and down. Already, Marc’s cock hardened again as if he never came in the first place. Over the sound of your slurps, you heard a string of curses from Marc’s lips and you couldn’t help but smirk around him.

“Need me to stop?” you asked as you released his cock with a loud pop. You kept your lips hovered over the tip and placed light, soft kisses as you gave him a moment to catch his breath.

“Fuck no!” Marc replied in a breathy whisper.

You smirked before you devoured him once more. In one swift movement, you swallowed his entire length until his cock hit the back of your throat, which caused Marc to let out a loud scream unlike anything you’d ever heard from him before. Though you couldn’t see it, tears formed in his eyes from the wave of sensations and emotions that suddenly flooded his mind. Strands of his hairs tickled your nose as you buried your face against his body.

Tears of your own fell from the corners of your eyes, but you kept going. You slowly pulled back as you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. The prominent vein pulsed under your touch until you reached the tip. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head before you dove back in quickly, the entire time Marc writhed and groaned at your every move.

“Fuck… Baby…”

Marc had so many other words on the tip of his tongue, but every time you swallowed his length, you unknowingly took all his words as well. He wanted to tell you how amazing you were, how good you made him feel. But all that he could form was a string of slurred curse words mixed with your name.

But that was all you needed to hear.

Soon enough, you picked up your pace once more and you bobbed your head up and down Marc’s cock as you sucked hard. You were done teasing him for now and you wanted nothing more than for him to cum again. Once your nose hit his belly, you hollowed out your cheeks and took him in as deep into your throat as you possibly could. You choked back a gag as you swallowed around Marc’s cock, which caused a shiver up his spine.

“Please baby,” he begged in a strained voice as he cupped your head.

Hearing Marc Spector beg was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to you, second only to the way he moaned your name when he came.

You hummed around him as you sucked hard and bobbed your head up and down, determined to hear your favorite sound. By the way he cried out and tugged at your scalp, you knew that you wouldn’t have to wait long.

And you were right; it only took a few more thrusts into your mouth for Marc to cum again. With a loud groan and a sharp pull at your scalp, he spilled himself into your mouth while you hummed around his overly sensitive cock.

It wasn’t until Marc yanked you off of him that you finally stopped. You would have gladly kept going as long as he would let you, but you could tell by the glazed over look in his eyes that Marc was spent. Your mouth hung open as a mix of your spit and his seed dripped from your lips. You looked at him with your own glazed over expression as a trail of saliva remained your only connection left to his cock.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for several moments. Only the sounds of your heavy breaths filled the room as you looked deep into the other’s eyes. Marc’s hand stayed on the back of your head as he gently brushed his thumb across your scalp. Your hands stayed on his lap and your lips remained parted as you breathed deeply. Behind both of your eyes burned fire so bright they could melt steel.

And both of you knew what that look meant.

Without a word, Marc let out a growl as he launched himself forward and pounced on you. You knew it was coming, but you still let out a gasp as you suddenly found yourself on your back with his body over yours. He quickly swallowed any other sound you were about to take as he captured your lips with his. Marc groaned as he tasted himself on your tongue, but it only fueled him more.

As his tongue tangled with yours, Marc quickly tugged at your clothing in a desperate need to undress you. And just as he surrendered to you, you surrendered to him and allowed him full access to your body. Just as much as he trusted you, you trusted him, and the fire raged within you as you suddenly found yourself completely bare for him.

“Marc…”

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he groaned as he wasted no time and dove ino between your legs.

You let out a loud scream when Marc’s mouth covered your pussy and your hands immediately went into his hair. He didn’t have the patience to tease you today and right away he licked at your clit and sucked hard as he devoured you like you were his last meal.

After being so focused on Marc and his pleasure, you didn’t even realize how wet and turned on you were and in no time, you felt the familiar tingle of your approaching climax. Marc knew exactly which spots drove you wild and where and how hard to flick his tongue against your pussy to make you scream his name. He was just as familiar with your body as you were with his.

“Oh fuck… Fuck, Marc!” you cried out as your body felt like it was on fire for real.

He groaned against your body as he ran his tongue up and down your folds while he pushed two of his thick fingers inside you with little resistance. And it was that added pressure of him filling you up that pushed you over the edge. The moment his fingers were completely buried inside you, you came hard with a loud scream as you pulled his soft hair. Your entire body trembled as your legs shook on either side of his head as your mind swam in the pleasure he gifted you.

But just as you didn’t stop at just one orgasm, neither did Marc.

Your screams turned more into whimpers as Marc kept licking at you with his tongue while he started to pump his fingers in and out of you in a steady rhythm. In a lull of your moans, he heard the deliciously wet sounds of your pussy, and it only made him hungry for more. Every time his fingers filled you, your moans grew louder and louder, and he knew he was close to that perfect spot deep inside you that never failed to make you gush: something Marc was exceptionally proud of.

“Marc… Marc… Fuck… Ahhh,” you moaned as you felt as if you would float away if he let go of you.

He would never let go of you, though, and he would hold you tight and keep you close forever as long as you would have him. Marc hummed against your body as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard while he thrust his fingers into you harder. The cry you let out sent a jolt through his own body as he knew he hit his target.

“More baby,” he groaned, “Give me more, gorgeous.”

“Oh my g…” you couldn’t even form a full thought as you saw stars from the way he licked at your clit and fucked you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just let go,” Marc moaned around you as he picked up his pace.

With every thrust of his fingers, you were closer and closer to your second climax. And from the way he hit your g-spot every single time, you both knew you weren’t going to last much longer. With a swirl of his tongue around your clit, and the way his thick fingers hit just right, it only took a few more pumps before you came hard again.

You threw your head back as your body shook even harder than before and you screamed so hard that you hoped the neighbors wouldn’t hear. You bucked your hips up as you grinded against Marc’s face as you felt yourself gush against him as tears filled your eyes.

It wasn’t until you tapped him twice that Marc finally broke away from you. Immediately, you flopped down completely limp on the floor, your arms and legs spread out at your sides as your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths. Marc stayed hovered over you as he watched you come down from your intense back to back climaxes. His chin and lips glistened with your juices; something he always wore proudly until he licked it off. His own arms trembled as he fought to stay up, but it was a losing battle.

Marc soon dropped down into the floor on top of you with a dramatic sigh. You let out a surprised grunt as you suddenly felt his entire weight on top of you, but you quickly recovered and wrapped your arms and legs round him as you chuckled softly.

“Shit baby,” he whispered, “That was…”

“Incredible,” you finished his thought.

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed with a soft laugh of his own, “And so fucking hot.”

You loved the sound of Marc’s laugh. And you savored it for a moment as you placed a feather-light kiss on his temple, “I should force you to take breaks more often, Marc.”

Marc gave you a squeeze as he stifled another laugh, “Yeah, I think maybe you should.”

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