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thisisarcanereverie · 11 months

Note

May i request a Yandere Moonknight System with a reader who’s like visiting London on work or something and they meet one of the boys. over their stay they get close as the boys show them around London and they sort of ignore the fact reader eventually has to leave untill they tell the boys they’re leaving the next day and they snap and take reader. Idk if that makes sense. 🤍

Cutting Ties (Dark! Moon Knight x Reader)

A/N: This is Part 1 of a 3 Part fic. This is also a dark fic so please DNI Minors and others. (I got a little carried away with this idea Anon so thank you for the suggestion)

Now if you can interact or want to, please do! Like, reblog, reply!

DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS: kidnapping, angst (like a ridiculous amount of it), light cursing, I've never been to London or England in general so I'm going based off of what I've seen, English is my first language I just suck at it. I do not own the picture above but i DO own the header below, it's something that I made. I might make a few others idk. Enjoy!

Summary: You're a former Widow on the run, only in London for a year you meet Steven Grant, a goofy gift shoppist. But is there more that meets the eye?

You weren’t sure what it was about London, maybe it was the almost constant cloud looming over the city-or perhaps it was the way you barely understood what the people around you were saying- but you didn’t get what all the hype was about. Yes, it was beautiful if you put a filter over it looking at it through a tourist’s perspective. However, looking past all the buzz and touristy wonder, it was just like every other city- gray, busy, and foul smelling–filled to the brim with more people than it could possibly provide for. The only difference was the currency and the fact that everyone sounded like they came out of either Downtown Abbey or Derby Girls.

You sighed as you reminded yourself that you were only going to be stuck here for another year, until this identity expired, then you got to go somewhere else, maybe somewhere warm and remote. Though you doubt it, that’s the thing about being on the run–you don’t get to choose where you go. You’ve been running close to 8 years now, almost a decade. Ever since Natasha Romanoff sent the Red Room hurdling from the sky and freed every Widow in the process, including you. How you got here exactly was a very long story, with parts you would rather not relive.

You looked out the window of the bus, filled with thoughts of nothing but warm places with lots of sun and color with next to no people around. You could probably stay there longer than usual, hell maybe forever if you were careful. You could feel a small smile gracing your features as you thought of a nice, quaint home; decorated with plants, a nice kitchen to practice cooking in–oh and a sunroom that doubled as a greenhouse of sorts. You started making a list of flowers you would like to grow when you felt a sudden, foreign weight on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the silver light of the window towards the dark mess of curls next to you. You recognize him almost immediately, you don’t know his name but he always got off at that museum you’ve been meaning to visit, he always looked so tired with dark almost bruise like circles under his eyes; his dark hair almost in a permanent state of unkempt. You looked at his face a bit longer before your eyes trailed to his hands, his knuckles were white with how harshly he was gripping his bag and sweat was starting to form on his brow. A nightmare. You got those as well.

As gently as you could you shook him, it didn’t take much until he bolted upright and took a few very sharp breaths. You could see his eyes dart erratically in fear before finally settling on you, you couldn’t help but remark on the lovely shade of brown his eyes were. A moment or two passed by before his eyes met the ground and his cheeks flushed.

“I’m so sorry” he hurriedly apologized, eyes still trained on the ground, “didn’t realize I nodded off there.”

“It’s quite alright,” you assured smiling gently at him, “if you don’t mind me asking but do you suffer from nightmares often?” his eyes went from the ground back at you, “I don’t mean to pry it’s just that I’ve seen you a few times on here and you always look exhausted.”

“Yeah um,” he cleared his throat, “I, uh, I would guess so– not that I can’t tell the difference– it’s just complicated to explain–not that I wouldn’t tell you if I could, it’s just the best way I can explain it and I probably sound like such a knob.” You hold in a slight chuckle as his cheeks flush even more.

“I don’t think so,” you say, “I get those kinds of dreams often as well. The ones you feel like they belong to someone else…but not at the same time, I guess it really is difficult to explain out loud.” you hold out your hand and introduce yourself as the man beside you hesitantly accepts it.

“Steven Grant.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

That was almost a year ago, after introducing yourselves you gave him your number (which he called not even an hour after he got off the bus). At first you would just meet up for tea but tea quickly became more intimate. You would call each other during the nights that were the hardest to sleep or to dream. You would tell him about your hope to live somewhere remote one day, in a place full of sunshine and color and he would be silent and listen. It wasn’t long until he confided in you about his condition, and you met Marc Spector and Jake Lockely respectively.

You weren’t sure why but when Marc appeared he seemed familiar, for a moment you wondered if you had met him at some point but you were sure that you would’ve remembered. The Red Room forced you to have a good memory after all.

Jake on the other hand was completely different from Steven and Marc, where Steven was shy and Marc stiff, Jake was suave. He had kissed your hand and said dirty things to you in spanish, to which you surprised him by replying fluently and dirtier.

After some time you grew comfortable with Marc and Jake and went on dates with them as well. For a while you were happy, first time ever since coming to London. You were practically living in Steven’s small flat and you spent your days living as a normal person would. You pretended not to notice the weird things, like them leaving in the middle of the night or the strange looks they would sometimes get looking at absolutely nothing. You never pried or judged, it wasn’t like you aired out all the skeletons in your closet either. You never told them your real name (or at least the name the Red Room gave you) or where you came from or basically anything of substance at all about your past. You didn’t want to, it wasn’t like you didn’t trust them, but you feared what would happen if you did tell them. Tell them your real name, that you used to be a Black Widow and killed people. That the reason why you hated the color red was because it reminded you of the Red Room and the blood that stained your hands, how your nightmares were memories and that ghosts that haunted you refused to die.

Somewhere along the way you started to forget that this life you were living with your job and your boys wouldn’t last forever. That sooner or later reality creeps in and brutally murders the fantasy you have created and as you hold the almost expired passport in your hand you remember the cold truth. That you never should’ve gotten involved, that you slipped and got attached and worst of all..you’d gotten someone else attached as well. Without you knowing the year you had left in London was almost up, in less than two months you will be off again to a new corner of the world with a new name and a new life.

Deep down though you knew, knew that you couldn’t not go. Choosing to remain this person you’ve created with her perfectly normal job with her perfectly normal life with her not so normal–but still perfect–boyfriend was never an option. Too many people want you, for various reasons from recruitment to revenge for what you did as a Widow; and those people would stop at nothing to get to you, even if that meant hurting someone you’ve loved.

You’re doing this, for them, you had to leave. There was no other option, and it was better to break it off now rather than leaving in the middle of the night. You fought the urge to be selfish, to keep living this life with them until you board your one way flight. So with a deep breath you stuffed your passport back into its folder in the drawer you owned and grabbed your trench coat and umbrella. You did not let a single tear fall as you hauled a cab to take you to the familiar route to their flat. You tried not to think at all, you knew if thought for a little too long you would talk yourself out of this. You knew this would probably be easier over text, you wouldn’t need to tell those big brown eyes goodbye and see them fill with tears or hate. It would be so easy…but you couldn’t. You knew that if you didn’t end it in person Steven, Marc, or Jake would show up at your door and wouldn’t leave until you did what you were doing right now. Telling them in person that it was over.

You didn’t waste time when the cab stopped in front of his building, you told the driver to wait and that you would be back down in just a few moments. Your heels clacked against the wet pavement towards the door which a kind, elderly neighbor of Steven’s you’ve gotten to know opened the door for you to which you smiled and thanked him. Every move you made was robotic, you weren’t even thinking you were just on auto pilot. Hoping that they wouldn’t be able to tell the slight shake in your hand or how stiff you were. You reminded yourself that you were doing this for them, and for you as well.

You entered the lift and pressed the button for their floor, the fluorescent light flickers a few times and the hum and rattle of the wires lifting the metal box do nothing to quiet the thrumming of your heart. Seconds pass by like hours before finally the sliding doors reveal the dimly lit hallway. One you’ve walked through dozens of times by now looks more like death row. You let not one tear drop as you walked, you couldn’t–you couldn’t let those doubting thoughts and happy memories pass through your head as you knocked on his door. Hearing a shuffling and the clattering of dishes before you hear them walk to the door. You could tell by the slight difference in gait that Steven was fronting and it hurt. You had hoped silently that it wouldn’t be him, your sweet Steven, with his unkempt curls and goofy grin. One who read you facts about Egyptian mythology and ancient history during stormy nights, who woke you from nightmares and held you gently like you were the most precious thing to ever exist. The sleepy man on the bus who laid his head on your shoulder and slept, who called you not even an hour after giving him your number. Please not him.

He opened the door and sure enough it was Steven.

“There you are love,” He said, a wide smile adorning his face as he ushered you in, “Me and the boys were wondering where you were,” he kissed your cheek and took your coat, “dinners almost ready if you need to wash up.” You stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you’ve cut ties with someone that you’ve cared for. However this was different, he was different. Steven, Marc, and Jake were probably the first people you’ve ever loved. You would do anything for them, anything, as long as they lived and were content and happy.

Even if it meant hurting them.

Even if it meant you could only watch from afar.

You took in a deep breath, willed your heart to stop beating before speaking.

“Steven.” He stopped immediately, you never called him by his name, only ever called him your sweetheart, or baby, or whatever other nickname came into mind but never his name. He turned away from the little stovetop and looked at you. You willed your voice to not falter as you continued, “we all need to talk.”

“Oh god,” Steven whispered, “how bad?”

“We need to talk,” You said not answering, “please.”

Wordlessly Steven turned the stove off as he made his way to you, you held up your hand when he was only a few steps away.

“Are they present?” You asked.

“They weren’t before but now they are,” He said, eyes furrowing in worry, “we’re starting to get a little worried love what’s going on?”

“I,” you start before swallowing the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, “I’ve gotten a call from the main office, they’re relocating me in a few months to help on a different classified project.”

“Oh,” Steven said with confusion written all over his face, “where?”

“That’s classified.” You said, nails biting into your palm to stop yourself from getting emotional.

“When will you be back?”

Silence fills the room, you bite back the urge to say anything that would give him hope. After a few seconds you see his eyes widen as he looks at the mirror beside you.

“No,” he said to the mirror, “no, no she’s not,” he turns to you with tears pricking his dark eyes making them shine, “love, tell them that you’re not-”

“I am,” you say, careful to keep a cold tone despite the urge to cry, “I’m not coming back. It’s a permanent relocation.”

“But you can still come to visit,” he says hurriedly, tears still pricking his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair, “we-we, we can um, we can face-call or um, or we can text and call and we can make this work, I know we can make this work love.” you opened your mouth to say something when he cut you off, a few tears leaking through and leaving wet streaks down his cheek, “or you could tell them no, tell them that you refuse the offer!”

“I can’t say no,” you said gently.

“Yes you can,” Steven said, his large hands gripping your shoulders, “you can tell them no.”

“I can’t Steven,” you tell him, “I’ll lose my job if I do and I can’t.”

“Then we can face call,” he says, his hands now cradling your face, leaving small kisses on your face that feel like knives in your heart, “we can make this work.”

“We can’t,” you said as you gently pry his hands from your face, you reach into your pocket and grab the spare key he gave you after a month into your relationship and put it in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Steven says silently, his head hung, his crying seemingly subsided “can you please stay, stay with me, be with me until you go.”

A moment of silence happens, for a moment you reconsider, but then you kiss his lips. Salt and vegan chocolate stain your tongue until you pull back, resting your forehead against his momentarily. You imagine what life you could’ve had with them, one full of good days and bad days. You’d adopt a cat with him, you would laugh as he declared the cat his mortal enemy for looking at Gus for a moment too long. You’d save up together and buy a nice cottage in the countryside, maybe you’d get married, maybe you wouldn’t. But you could imagine what it would be like to grow old with him, when your hair would turn white and gray, when your skin would start to sag and he would still be there to tell you you’re as beautiful as the day he met you on that small bus all those years ago. It’s a nice life, one you know you would be more than content with.

But you know it’s not a life you can have.

“Goodbye.”

With that you left, closing the door behind you and walking to the lift. Walking away from the life you knew you could never live, not without constantly looking over your shoulders. You knew secrets always have ways of coming to the light, so even if you did stay how long would it be until he discovered yours. How long until he has a gun to his head and a target on his back? No, this was the choice, this was the only option. You made the right call, while you may not get to live that life; he still could. He’ll find someone else, someone to love and who will hopefully love him as much.

The doors slid closed and the wires hummed and groaned as they lifted you back down where the cab was waiting. You decided to walk and paid the cab for their time. You knew with the heels you were wearing you would regret it later but you didn’t care, you needed some time to think. You walked through the lit streets, you watched as people laughed and a few occasionally public criers. You stopped and waved at the living statue man that Steven introduced to you before walking on. This was a path that you and the boys would walk sometimes, they didn’t like going out much and neither did you, but the exercise did you good. You checked your phone to see how much time you had left before you had to board your flight. It seemed like you had enough time to go home, grab your duffle and carry on before the cab you called before you left arrived.

“Excuse me miss,” You turned to see a little girl no older than ten addressing you. She was a small thing, with dark curls and even darker eyes, she dressed as a white gown with a flower crown. “Do you care for some flowers?” You remember briefly seeing similarly dressed kids in the plaza not too far away, you gathered that maybe she had wandered away from the group unnoticed.

“You know what,” You kneeled down to her height, “I would love some flowers, but first let’s get you back to your group alright?” the girl looked around as if she’s realizing she’s not where she’s supposed to be, for a moment you’re worried about her crying as you see tears start forming in her eyes. You take the hand not holding onto the small basket of flower seeds gently, “don’t cry little one, we’ll get you back to your group all safe and sound.” You see her nod as she holds your hand in her tiny one as you lead her back to the brightly lit plaza just a few buildings away. She points to two women frantically looking and calling out a name. You let her hand go and watch as she runs towards who you assume are her mothers.

“Oh my stars,” you hear the taller woman breathe out in relief, “where did you run off too?”

“I-I went to go give flowers.” You heard the little girl sniffle before she pointed at you, “she helped me.” You gave a small awkward smile and wave before the smaller woman gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much,” She said before letting you go. “We were talking with the play director for one mo and the next-”

“No need,” you said, “she’s a sweet kid, adventurous too apparently.”

“You have no idea.” the mother sighed as she looked at the now giggling child in her wife's arms, “Angie loves to get into trouble.” you see her smile before returning her gaze back to you, “anyways thank you again.”

“No problem,” you say before turning your eyes towards Angie and her taller mother, “it was nice to meet you, and you too Angie–listen to your mum’s.” you went to walk away before you felt a soft tug on your sleeve. You looked down to see Angie holding up a packet of flower seeds to you.

“Here’s your flower miss,” Angie said sweetly, tears long gone, “thank you for helping me find my mum’s.” you gently take the packet of seeds from her and smile,

“you’re welcome, good luck with your play.” You said as you waved her goodbye as she went to take her place next to the various other children in similar attire. You stood there a moment longer, watching this small family you’ve encountered. All you’ve ever known of family was what the Red Room told you of. Your birth certificate was destroyed along with every other Widow’s, even then you doubt that your parents still walked the earth. Dreykov wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

You walked away from the plaza then, away from the brightly lit place and back onto dimly lit streets making your way past the few passersby and back to your building where a single duffle bag and carry on waited for you.

You had been brave the entire day, you had not let a single tear drop but once the door to your flat closed behind you all the resolve you had crumbled. You slid down the door as tears profusely fell down your cheeks leaving hot traces behind. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that had threatened to come out earlier. Your fingers shakily trace your lips as you hold onto the last kiss you shared with him. Your hand then went to your chest and clutched the material of your shirt as a sharp, throbbing pain in your chest grew. Every part of you was screaming, all for different things. There was physical pain like the ache in your feet and the pain in your chest, but the emotional pain–that was the worst of it. This was the kind of pain that teetered between hell and heaven.

So this was it.

This was heartbreak.

You don’t know how long you stayed there–teetering–but you knew you couldn’t be long. Soon you would have to pick yourself up, bite through every step as though it didn’t feel like you were walking on glass, grab that duffle and carry on, and leave. You let out a bitter smile as you remember that fateful day you met your boys, how you were planning on what flowers to plant in that dream home of yours. You reached into your pocket and grabbed that small bag of flower seeds.

Purple Hyacinth.

Sorrow

You laughed at the irony.

How fitting.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What do you mean my flight is canceled?”

“Just what I mean ma’am, the weather report-”

“It’s bloody London, has there ever been a clear sunny sky in London?”

“No..bu-”

“Alright,” you sigh, pinching the bridge between your brows, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I know you’re just doing your job, are there any flights cleared to take off?” You see the person type a few buttons on their keyboard and a few clicks of the mouse before looking back at you with false sympathy.

“I’m sorry ma’am all the ones cleared already took off.”

Shit, that leaves you with two options: going back to the flat or staying at the airport until morning…with a sigh you grab your bags and get ready to grab a late taxi back to your place. At least there you could shower and cry in private. First thing tomorrow morning you’ll get on the next plane to, you look at your ticket again Cincinnati, Ohio. At least you won’t stay there, your inside guy did you a solid and got you away from people. You’ll be in a small property big enough for one in a small town. It wasn’t ideal but at least you were away from the city stench. You’ll have to drive to places this time instead of hailing a cab, but you didn’t mind. All in all, it was an ok set up, much more preferable than your previous arrangement.

You tried to hail a cab for ten minutes, everyone that passed was either already paid or just didn’t see you. Eventually you thought you were going to have to bite the bullet and sleep on the uncomfortable airport lounges when a cab finally pulled up. You thanked god as you put your luggage in the trunk and got into the backseat.

“Where to miss?” the man asked, you didn’t even look at him as you replied. Instead watching the water drip steadily down the window pane.

“Too bad for the weather eh?” This driver asked in a thick cockney accent.

“Yeah I guess,” you replied, “though I guess it fits.” silence passes before he replies.

“Tough day issit?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” you said, closing your eyes, “it just doesn’t end.”

“Know what that’s like,” he replies, “I had a share of bad days myself.”

“Oh yeah?” You responded.

“Like today,” You hear him respond, “I burned my hand while making dinner for me and my girlfriend, we’ve been going on for a year or so by now. She is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, inside and out. Anyways the day only gets worse from there, she comes about half an hour early to dinner without warning. I knock my poor toe on the way to the door to let her in; hurt like anything. So I open the door, she’s as radiant as ever, only she’s got this sad look in her eyes, something I’ve never seen before. Turns out, she’s been lying to me… she said her job was taking her away and that she wouldn’t be able to be with us anymore.” a sinking feeling settled into your stomach, “we begged, we pleaded but no. She was adamant, and then she left, without another word. Isn’t that cruel?” You open your eyes to look into the rearview mirror, a chill went through your body as your eyes met a familiar dark pair. “Isn’t it mi carissima?” the accent drops into the deep spanish accent. You’re about to open the door when you feel a pinch on the side of your neck, and slowly the world blurred and then faded into nothing.

(Here's Part 2)

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softieekayy · 10 months

Text

Illicit Feelings

Marc spector x fem!reader.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: reader is 19 years old. Some questionable morals from Marc’s side. she can consent, not a toxic relationship, they know what they’re doing. Reader can consent. Marc is 37. Also reader is slight oc! She’s characterized with skin, eye and hair. She is implied to be desi.

Authors note: writing and posting this specific story has taken a lot out of me. It’s wrong morals and everything but please, do not hate and if you don’t like what you see then please scroll away. Leaving hate is unnecessary. I know that the age gap is controversial but I wrote this for myself and something that I’d like to share with you.

Cairo was a timeless city. Correction, Cairo will always be a timeless city with ancient temples buried under its sand dunes and secrets carried in the wind, there was nothing to not like about the Egyptian city. Marc Spector was not immune to the charm of Cairo, it’s where his life ended and began. It is also the city where Marc spector met the young woman that would alter his life forever, integrating herself so far into his life that everywhere Marc turned she was there.

Their meeting was odd, like anything in Marc’s life, she was sought out by Khonshu, the old bird claming that she would be of help in defeating Ammit. As the avatar of Anubis, she was helpful, with eyes that saw sharp and ears that could hear as well as a dog, she was exactly what Marc needed. Now, he would be okay with whatever this was if it weren’t for the fact that she was 19. Just barely starting her life and already a mercenary and an avatar. If anything, she was too much like Marc and perhaps that is exactly why he liked her so much.

Their first meeting was eventful, Marc had finally hunted her down after three weeks of searching and he was glad that this time she didn’t disappear on him like a ghost. He watched her from above, sat atop the building across her hotel room, eyes glowing as he donned his suit. Khonshu told Marc to beware of the young girl, claiming that she was just as dangerous as Anubis himself. Marc ignored the old bird, chalking it up to his dislike for the latter god but he wished he listened to him. Mac wished he kept his guard up a little bcause as soon as he saw her, he knew she was dangerous.

“Marc Spector, avatar of Khonshu, Moon Knight and former mercenary, what a pleasure to meet you.” She spoke, her lips turning up into a cat-like grin as she ran her tongue over her teeth. Her eyes through, that is what captivated Marc. Big brown doe eyes that peered into his own in a way that Marc thought she was judging his soul. She moved and Marc watched as she went from leaning on her dresser to walking to the mini kitchenette, he watched as she pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Even though he was watching her, his thoughts drifted to how the cropped tank top she wore was a little too tight and how the shorts showed off her legs and tanned skin, no doubt from being in the Cairo sun for too long.

“Blimey mate, you’ve just met her and are already thinking about her. Slow down a little, yeah.” Steven told Marc with an underlying tone of scolding and for a moment, just a brief moment, Marc suspected Steven was talking to himself too.

She watched him carefully, Anubis had told her that Marc would come find her and she was prepared. Everyone in the Ennead and their Avatars had brushed off Spector’s call for help, not Anubis though, no. He would help but only after a game of chase. To be honest, she was surprised that Marc found her only after three weeks of hunting but then again, they are both trained mercenaries and it was their job. Locating missing things for a price.

“You’re Anubis’ avatar?” Marc asked her, giving her a once over. Even though she is 19, her face held youth and innocence. She smiled at him, walking forward and handing him a glass of scotch, Marc accepted it from her before muttering a small thanks under his breath.

“You’d be right. I am the avatar of Anubis, his own personal hit woman and his Soul Sentinel. Guardian of souls, protector of the afterlife.” She grinned as she told the older man in front of her her duties. When Anubis told her that Khonshu’s avatar would come seeking her aid, the man in front of her is not what she expected. Marc Spector was beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than any of her past lovers. His tan skin gleamed under the mom light and curls laid loosely on his forehead from sweat. He was beautiful and she wasn’t immune to his beauty, no, she was attracted to him. Marc was also quite a bit older than her, she was 19 and there he was, probably in his late thirties.

Marc just stared at her for a second, not knowing what to say or do. The young girl in front of him took a seat on the chair and gestured for him to do the same.

“So, what is it that you need from me?” She asked Marc, the grin never leaving her face. Marc sighed, not wanting to drag the young girl into his mess. He was not good for her, even if she was an avatar like him, she was too young. Instead of being here, drinking scotch and sitting across from him.

“I need you to help me. Harrow is looking for Ammit’s tomb.” Marc tells her, his voice hardening at the mention of Harrow. (Y/n) of course picks up on this, tucking a stray piece of star behind her ear as she leaned forward slightly.

“Of course. What do you need me to do?” She asked him and Marc looked at her before Steven caught his attention in the silver tray.

“Mate, you sure it’s a good idea. I mean, she’s 19, a good bit younger than us yeah? Don’t you think Layla’s help would be enough?” Steven babbled on and Marc sighed, contemplating if he should ask the young girl to help.

“She’s our only chance Marc!” Khonshu’s voice boomed in his head as the god demanded he ask for her help. If Marc didn’t know any better, he’d think that Khonshu was pushing him to ask for her support on purpose, just to entrance her in his life.

“Marc, are you alright?” She asked, leaning forward to touch his hand. Marc looked at her, big doe eyes that stared back into his own. He sighed and nodded, pushing back into the chair, hoping that it would somehow open up and engulf him.

“I need your help to hunt down Harrow.” and kill his men. Marc thought. The brunette nodded, taking another sip of her scotch, letting it sit in her mouth before swallowing. Marc took in her appearance fully now. Long wavy black hair that cascaded down her back to her waist, tan skin sharp eyes, she was beautiful. Very beautiful. Her skin seemed to glow in the warm yellow light of her room, making her tan skin have a slight sparkle to it. Marc noticed the necklace she wore, a gold chain with an ankh, it sat high on her neck, almost like a choker but not nearly.

“Alright.”

Who knew one simple word could change so much in such little time.

“-arc! Marc, are you even listening to me?” Marc jerked his head towards (y/n) who was standing beside him, an exasperated look on her face and arms crossed over her chest.

“Sorry. What were you saying?” He grimaced, asking her as she sighed. Despite being young, she acted older than she was, then again, she did kill people for a living. Hitwoman for hire. Steven often wondered where Anubis found her and while Marc did too, he didn’t want to ask. He didn't want to know what hell she went through to work for the god of death.

“They only have one room, said we could take it for tonight and they’d clear something up in the mornin” she spoke, her slight accent popping through at the end of her sentence. Marc ran his hand down his face, muttering a small fuck under his breath.

“What are our other options.” He asked, looking at her, hoping she’d say that there is another hotel nearby they could stay at.

“Right now? It’s either this or the sand outside and as much as I like Cairo, I’m not fond of sand in my hair.” She says, tugging her baseball cap lower, covering her eyes. Nightfall had taken over Cairo a while ago and the night stars gleamed brightly.

“It’s fine, we’ll just take the one room.” (Y/n) grumbled as she let out a deep breath. Marc looked at her from his peripheral vision. Even though they’d been working together for 2 weeks, they had never shared a room and not once did Marc seek her out in the middle of the night, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Are you sure it’ll be okay? I can take the car for tonight if you want the room.” Marc asked, following behind her as they both made their way to the elevator.

“Yeah Marc. We’re both adults, I don’t think sharing a room should put us off from each other.” She laughed and Marc swore it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, he wanted to drown in it.

Marc didn’t speak, he just let out what could be counted in as a small laugh. Despite spending time together, (y/n) had heard of Steven but she hadn’t met him yet. The rest of the ride up was silent apart from the stupid elevator music.

Their room was big, a whole area for couches and a tv and then the small kitchenette. This is the nicest room Marc has ever stayed in. It was big and spacious, very similar to a small, fancy flat.

“There’s one bed.” (Y/n) yelled from inside the room, not wasting any time exploring the room.

“Of course there is.” Marc stated, tiredness lacing his voice.

Marc entered the room only to see the duffel bag that (y/n) was carrying thrown carelessly on the floor along with her jacket and gun set on the dresser, she jumped on the bed, sighing in content.

“Marc, come lay next to me.” She beckoned him over with her hand, eyes closed as she tried to burrow herself deeper into the bed.

“I’ll take the couch, thanks.” Marc mummered, setting down his own bag next to hers.

“Maaarrccc. Don’t be fucking rude, come lay next to me, I don’t bite. Unless you want to.” She drawled, now propped up on one arm, the other calling him over. Marc looked at her and she just looked so appealing. Dark wavy hair sprawled invitingly on the bed and red lips pulled up in a lazy smile, her tank top rising up just a little, exposing a sliver of skin. He thought about it for a moment and it took him one moment before he trudged forward and sat down next to her on the bed.

“Happy?” He asked and she just nodded, Marc laughed, running his hand through his hair, curls loosened from the humid Cairo air. He turned his head slightly to look at the young woman next to him, her eyes still closed and in that moment alone, she looked the most content.

“Yeah.” She said, opening one eye to look up at Marc slightly before falling back down, arms flailing over her head.

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.” Marc said motioning to get up before a soft hand pulled him down. For being 5’3, she was stronger than she looked, then again, the power of Anubis flowed through her soul and body.

“Marc, we’re not 14. We can share a bed together not to mention the stab wound on your rib that’s still healing.” Marc cringed a little when she mentioned the wound, he’d hoped that he hid it well enough from her. Despite the suit being able to heal, the wound was a little too deep.

“Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I can take the couch.” The young girl told him, getting up and off the bag as she looked through her bag.

“What are you doing?” He asked and she looked up at him, smiling a little.

“Showering. Feel free to join me.” Marc could feel the warmth in his ears and cheeks, no doubt blushing at the young girl's comment. He watched her walk into the washroom, pulling her hair up into a bun as she did so.

Throughout the two weeks that he’s gotten to know (y/n), he came to understand that she was flirty, very flirty. She used her sex to charm into getting what she wanted and she was very comfortable with it. It was the least violent way to do things, however she never hesitated to bring out her gun or suit if needed. He also learned that she was never shy in spending the blood money she earned. Marc’s was hidden away in a storage locker in London, only taken out if he or Steven ever needed it. Her money though, she used it however she pleased, claiming that it was her work and her money. Marc won’t lie and say that her nonchalance to the mercenary business wasn’t scaring him a little because it did. She’s so young and already so sought after by so many, he worried for her. He didn’t have to, he knew that Anubis would never let anything happen to her but he still worried.

Getting lost in his own thoughts was easy and it didn’t help that he was laying in the most comfortable bed under yellow lighting with the sound of wind blowing as background noise. The sound of the door closing snapped him from his thoughts and Marc turned his head just a bit. (Y/n) had finished her shower, now wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt, cheeks flushed from the heat of the hot shower she took.

“You okay, Marc?” She asked, coming to sit next to him, tentatively raising her hand to run it through his hair. Marc relaxed a bit, silently telling her it was okay and he almost groaned when she did so.

“Just lost in my thoughts. Gonna go shower now.” Marc told her, getting up to get his own clothes and headed towards the washroom.

“Seriously mate? You’re letting her run her hands through our hair now?” Steven asked from within the mirror.

“Steven, now is not the time.” Marc ignored Steven’s protests and hopped in the shower, lathering the jasmine scented soap onto his body.

The brunette sat outside as she listened to Anubis whisper in her ear. Long before Marc came tumbling into her life, she knew everything about him. She knew of his ex-wife Layla, his DID, Steven and Jake. She knew him but she didn’t really know him. The clock on the wall from across the bed glared 11:24 pm in bright red numbers and she sighed, deciding that it was time for bed now. The young girl had already chosen which side of the bed she’d sleep on and quickly made herself comfortable under the covers; it didn’t take long for her to doze off to sleep in the slightly chilled room under a warm linen blanket.

Marc stepped out of the washroom, a pair of sleep pants that without a doubt belonged to Steven and no shirt, he made his way over to the bed only to see a small head of black hair peeking from under the covers. Marc let out a small smile at the sight and moved over to his side of the bed, sitting down, making sure to not awake the sleeping girl. Marc pulled himself into bed, leaving an ample amount of space between the two of them. With the dark of the night, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep.

The morning Egyptian sun shone brightly into the room through orange curtains, hitting Steven right in the face and the man groaned, turning around to fall back asleep when he jerked up quickly. He scanned his surroundings before realizing that he was in the hotel room with a body laying next to his own.

“Marc? Marc!” Steven whispered for his head mate, not moving his eyes from the sleeping girl next to him and when she began to stir in her sleep, Steven panicked a bit more. He had no clue as to why Marc wasn’t fronting. Two weeks with her and Marc was the only one fronting until now. See now, it’s not that Steven didn’t like the girl, no, he was rather fond of her. The matter is that she scared him. It’s quite funny, a man almost in his forties being scared by a woman who hasn’t even hit 20 yet. She stirred awake, one hand came out from under her pillow as she patted Marc's side of the bed, when she couldn’t feel him there, she got up, pure panic in her eyes. And when her eyes landed on a skittish Steven, she relaxed.

“You must be Steven, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” And as soon as those words left her mouth, Steven was a goner. His head felt fuzzy and all he could think about was the sugary sweet voice with a honeyed smile.

“Are you okay?” She asked, getting up to check if Steven was alright and not having a panic attack.

“Hm. Oh yeah! Quite alright.” Steven explained in a frenzy as if he’d offended the younger woman.

“Where’s Marc? I have some hits I need to get done and he needs to be there with me.” The brunette told Steven as she made her way over to the dresser, pulling out a cotton tank top and some pants and head scarf, Steven gave her an awkward smile before his eyes rolled back into his head. Marc was fronting now with a hardened look on his face.

“What hits?” He asked, arms crossed in a defensive position.

“Some hits, nothing that will bother you but I still need you there, Anubis insists.” She told him without looking at him, too engrossed in the clothing as she walked to the washroom to change. Marc stood there with a frown etched deep into his face, not liking this.

2 hours later and they were roaming the streets of Cairo, the sun glaring down harshly on Marc’s golden skin, he looked at the girl beside him, dressed in a linen t shirt and some linen pants with a head scarf covering her hair, the gun and daggers she carried hidden easily in her lose clothes. Although they were out looking for two men with a stolen artifact that belonged to Anubis, she looked relaxed, almost serene.

“What are you staring at?” She asked, not looking up at Marc but rather examining a small ankh closely. Marc didn’t say anything, continuing to simply look at her.

“Marc, what is it?” This time turning around and looking up at him, her doe eyes peering into his own brown ones. For a moment, just a brief moment, Marc forgot who they were and where they were. The way she looked at him with so much care and concern made Marc want to melt directly into the ground, he didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Nothing. Are you gonna get that?” He gestured to the necklace she was looking at.

“No, why should I when I have the real one on my neck.” She told him, bringing out the ankh that Anubis had oh so kindly gifted her. Marc grinned at her smile and continued walking as she bid the salesman goodbye and followed behind Marc, hooking his arm in hers.

“What are we looking for?” Marc asked her, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious.

“Two men, they should be here trading items. We need a small gold esophagus, one that belonged to a pharaoh a long time ago.” She told him a small frown on her face. As a mercenary, she killed people who deserved it and she stole things that were already stolen, in some ways, she reminded Marc so much of Layla and maybe that’s why he’s stuck around for so long.

In a swift moment two hands grabbed the brunette from behind, effectively covering her mouth and a knife pointed at Marc’s back, ordering them to walk. A bag was put over their heads and while the two of them could fight off the men with ease, Anubis and (Y/n) told Marc and Khonshu to hold off. They weren’t in the van for long, she could tell it was less than 20 minutes and the scent of water and salt filled her nostrils.

“Well, well, well, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it, little star.” She could recognize that condescending voice anywhere, afterall, it plagued her nightmares constantly. Her breath hitched, nothing noticeable but it didn’t go past Marc. He turned his head in her direction, even with the bag on, his focus was on her breathing, making sure that she’s alright. That nothing has happened to her.

“Tahir. It has been a while.” She greeted, her voice a double sword.

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to survive, especially not in the condition we’d left you in.” The man, Tahir, mocked her and Marc could hear him getting up and circling them, like a hawk.

“Yet I can see you’re still hunting for items. Killing people. You haven’t changed, have you now, little star?” The man continued and Marc’s blood boiled by the second, he aches to get out of these restraints.

“Not now Marc! Be patient.” Khonshu’s voice boomed in his head, ordering him to keep patient.

“I have changed, but I can still see that you haven’t. Still a coward, killing people with bags over their heads.” She reiterated and something in Marc told him that this conversation went beyond just stolen items and bounty hunts.

“Why do you want the esophagus, it’s no use to you.” Tahir asked.

“It’s more useful to me than it will ever be to you.” Marc could hear the smirk in her voice, with the way she was edging the man on. In a soft moment, the bags over their heads were taken off and Marc’s eyes began to adjust to the light, observing his surroundings and already counting possible escape routes. His eyes landed lastly on the brunette who was looking up at the man, blood running down from her nose as the smirk on her face never wavered.

“You conniving bitch. We should’ve killed you when we had the chance to.” Tahir told her and Marc swore he could steam coming out from his ears.

“Yet you didn’t. You’re a coward, like you’ve always been.” She sneered at him, teeth baring like a feral wolf.

“Yet we killed André. You quite liked him, did you not, little star?” Tahir smirked at her and she snapped at this moment. Brown eyes beginning to tint with red

“You piece of scum, good for nothing really. No wonder your mother didn’t love you.” Marc choked on his spit at the last sentence, but then again, she was being fair.

“Now Marc!” Khonshu told him, his staff lightly hitting his back. Marc took his signal and broke free from the restraints, calling on his suit. The white bandages begin to cover every inch of his body just as (y/n) called upon her own suit. Black bandages with a gold trim began to cover her arms, and calves as loose black pants with the same gold trim formed, the chest plate made from gold and decorated with Anubis’s symbols and stones. All in all, she looked like Anubis, a female version of his that roamed the earth.

“You’ve really fucked up now, Tahir. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? How long I’ve waited for this moment.” She asked, an Estoc in her hand as she pointed it to his neck, teeth baring, ready to rip his throat out. Marc pulled the half crescent from his chest, taking care of the other men while she focused on the one.

“You’re a monster.” Tahir spit out and the girl only smiled.

“I may be a monster but at least I’m not afraid to admit it.” She growled at him.

The dark haired man stood up, lunging at her as she dodged it. He lunged again but this she had him pinned to a wall, face smushed up against the concrete as she banged his head into it a couple of times.

“When will you realize that you’re not leaving here alive, hm?” She whispered in his ear, choking him, inching him closer to death.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, for everything I put you through. You were a child.” Tahir babbled incoherently but she didn’t care for his apologies, what was done was done, now all she wanted was revenge. For her and for André. In a swift moment, he was let go and before he could take a breath, her sword impaled him, from his jaw to his brain. The body drops dread on the ground and nothing but silence surrounds them.

And before Marc knows it, she’s on the ground, sobbing her heart out, clutching her chest.

“(Y/n)! Are you okay!” Marc asks, dropping down on the ground next to her as she continues to sob, clutching over her heart as if it hurts.

“It hurts Marc, it hurts so much.” She told him, barely wheezing and for a moment, Marc thought that she’d been hit. In the moment, he realized the pain was emotional, pain from killing Tahir, from the reminder of her friend or lover or whoever André was to her. There was nothing Marc could do, simply taking the younger girl in his arms and consoling her as she cried her heart out into his chest.

“Marc, Marc! Give me the body.” Steven demanded the man and Marc complied, clearly Steven was better suited for this than he was.

“Hey there lovey, how are you feeling?” Steven asked, still caressing her gently.

“Do you know he was the first person ever loved?”(y/n) told Steven, pulling herself off from his chest and wiping her tears away as she smiled a watery smile.

Steven didn’t say anything, only letting her speak.

“He was the stars and my universe and I loved him so much. He was so beautiful, you know. The type whose eyes would glimmer when he spoke about something he liked, the way he would just immerse himself into something he loved. I loved seeing him do that. He was so perfect and I loved him so much. From the first time I saw him, my old heart was his, yet I never told him how much I loved him.” She told Steven, a small sparkle in her eyes as she remembered her past love.

“Oh love, I’m so so sorry.” Steven said, his hand resting on top of hers.

“Unfortunately, he died in the worst way possible. Got a death that no one deserved. It was a hit with Tahir, he said it would be an in and out job, and it was. I was perched on the building across, sniping people in the other building, giving my team the go ahead. When we were done, we were on our way home when he stopped at a temple. I realized later that it was Anubis’s temple. He bagged André over the head and shot him, point blank execution style. The way I kill people. I was tossed out after being shot in the stomach, left for the dead, beside the body of my lover. 18 years old and dying alone, I thought that’s what I deserved, after everything I’ve done. In my dying moment, Anubis came to me, asking me to be his avatar, his soul keeper and tamer of the underworld. I agreed, I was desperate and this gave me a reason to live.” Steven was in tears by the end of her story, so young to have lived a life not meant for her. Steven was forcefully shoved back when Marc fronted.

“Oh baby.” He said as he pulled the girl into his chest, tugging her close, as if he was trying to shove her into his chest, keep her protected.

She got up, pushing Marc away as she wiped away the fallen tears and sighed.

“What’s happened has happened and we cannot change that.” She told him, her armour going back to her old clothes.

“We can mourn.” Marc told her.

“I’ve mourned enough.” She replied, tugging her head scarf back in place as she extended a hand towards Marc who accepted it greatly. Her hand was soft and warm, like a blanket.

“Let’s go home.” She said and Marc agreed, hooking her arm in his, they began walking home, but not before getting some food. The fight took the most out of them and by the time they reached the hotel they called home, it was nightfall.

(Y/n) had showered and washed the day off her body and Marc did the same. His eyes followed her movement, watching as she sat on the balcony of their room, watching the moon and stars as he drank, sitting on the floor, back against the bed.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough.” She teased, walking into the room, wearing those tiny fucking shorts and cotton tank top. Marc couldn’t stop looking at her legs, the tan skin of her thoughts was inviting him to touch them. She sat down next to him, taking the bottle from his hands as she drank a generous amount.

“Are you okay?” Marc asked her, referring to the day and her breakdown.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve come to terms that he’s gone. I’ve let myself heal.” She told Marc, looking at him and smiling a little and putting her head on Marc’s shoulder. They say like that for a while, drinking out of the bottle and speaking of nothing. Small quips and laughs shared in the middle of the night. This moment that they shared, it was intimate. It was meant for them and them only.

Marc didn’t know what time it was when they fell asleep talking on the floor but he knew that it was far too early to be awake. He looked at the sleeping girl on his chest, cheek smushed up against him as she slept soundly, not wanting to awake her, he sat there in silence, eventually drifting back to sleep.

The second time Marc woke up, he was alone with the smell of pancakes and eggs filling his nose.

“Oh Marc! You’re awake, good. I was ready to get you.” She told him, a positive glow on her face as she smiled.

“I’ve made breakfast so why don’t you get up and brush your teeth. I’ll make some coffee, yeah?” Marc nodded at her offer before pulling himself up. He could feel the aftermath of falling asleep on the floor, a telltale sign that he was getting old.

Breakfast was chatty, she told him about her favorite places and things and he listened, feeding in the information as he told her his favourite things. Steven pitched in too, ranting about Egyptology to her as she listened intently, all wide eyed and curious. While she knew the things like the back of her hand, Steven added a deeper level of knowledge to it.

Their days merged together as they spent every waking moment drowning in each other's presence. Holding her hand in his bigger one as they walked through the Cairo market or at home as she slept on top of his chest. Marc didn’t know when their relationship became more, he didn’t want to know. Sometimes he felt guilty for being in love with a girl so young. She was 19 yes, just days from turning 20. Yet she was more than a decade younger, nearly two decades younger.

“You’re staring again.” She told him, bringing him back to reality. Marc looked at her, sitting across from him, black hair flying in the breeze lightly and red lips curled up as she took a sip from her lemonade.

“Was I?” He asked, being cheeky.

“Yeah, wanna share with the class about what was on your mind.” She said, leaning forward just a bit, the sun hitting her ankh necklace and making her skin glow in the sunlight.

“I’d prefer not to.” Marc told her, replicating her movement and leaned forward.

“You’re not fun.” She sighed, crossing her arms up on her chest. Marc laughed at the pout on her face and she did too.

“We should head home.” This time, home was an apartment in the outskirts of Cairo. In a quaint little area with little noise. It’d been two months since the whole ordeal and 3 since she’d met Marc. The two teetering the line between friends and something more. The apartment, it was their safe haven. Steven’s books strewn across the shelves and floor, Marc’s clothes hanging off the back of chairs and her makeup scattered in the bathroom and dresser. It was theirs, littered with their things and touches. It was home. Anika, a black feline that they’d adopted, slept on top of Marc’s head in the bed and Gus II and III swam happily in their tank.

Egypt was home now. It was home with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, with the sun shining down, with the girl that they lived with. Their home was home. Steven working as a tour guide in a museum and (y/n) working as a mercenary, Marc taking the odd job here and there, it was normality. Of course, they were still on Harrow’s tail, inching closer to stopping him from unleashing ammit. The feelings between the two though, that was left unsaid. They both felt it, the burning desire that lit a fire deep inside them, the aching for one another. Although one fate filled night changed the course of their life.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Marc yelled at her, arms thrown up in the air, dressed in his suit and her in her own. Marc and her and found some of Harrow’s men in a nearby excavation site, causing chaos and making their way there. Effectively stopping the men from doing too much damage.

“I was thinking about you! That could’ve hit you Marc!” She yelled back, jaw clenched and arms crossed over her chest.

“You could’ve been injured!” He yelled at her, anger and worry lacing his voice. He inched closer to her until her back hit the temple wall, his face inches from her.

“Hm? You didn’t answer me?” She could feel his breath mix in with her own, their noses almost bumping.

“I was thinking about you. Saving you.” She said and as soon as those words left her mouth, Marc’s lips were on hers. Hard and passionate, just like him. She reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion, her hand shaking around his neck, tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. Marc was the first one to pull back, touching his head against hers exhaling in relief.

“What was that hm?” She giggled, her hands still in Marc’s hair and he let out a small laugh too.

“That is what I’ve been meaning to do for a while.” Marc tells her, nipping small kisses on her jaw.

“I’m kind of upset you didn’t do it before. Are you telling me we could’ve been doing that the entire time?” She asked, bringing Marc’s head up to her eye vision. Marc started at her and pulled back.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked her, standing up straight in proper military fashion.

“I’ve been sure since I saw you.” She told Marc, holding his hand gently.

“I’m 18 years older than you.” Marc deadpanned and she laughed.

“Older then better.” She shrugged and Marc kissed her again, like he wanted to imprint this moment into his brain.

“Okay.” He said, nose touching her own and foreheads touching.

“Okay.” She hums, kissing Marc softly before pulling back and walking out, pulling Marc with her.

Marc never thanked Khonshu for anything, but he did thank him for forcing him to work with (Y/n). He will forever thank Khonshu for letting him meet the girl who forever changed his destiny, the girl who makes his heart burst at the seams with a simple smile. He is forever grateful for her.

Tagging: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little @stuckinaf4nfiction

#marc spector imagine #Marc spector x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight x reader #Steven grant #Steven grant x reader fluff #khonshu #marvel #moon knight #marc spector smut #marc spector x reader angst #layla el faouly #khonshu x reader #marc spector fluff #moon knight x reader fluff #Steven grant fluff #jake lockley headcanon #Jake lockley x reader fluff

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az-cain · 2 years

Text

At Fault

marc spector x reader ≈ 1.1k masterlist here

angst, so much angst. marc comes home after a rough mission and decides that you deserve better. ends in light fluff.

TW FOR: mention and description of blood, ptsd, victim blaming (self-inflicted), mention and discussion of child abuse, disassociation, possible inaccurate portrayal of DID (not sure if Marc would have stayed fronting here, mostly based on my experience w dissociation and ptsd as a singlet)

This fic is extremely sensitive and deals with difficult topics. Please continue at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

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He cracked the door to your shared apartment open at 3 that morning. Marc slipped inside, bloodied and tired, and saw you sitting on the couch with a book propped up on your thighs. You were still awake, even though he’d told you many times previously not to wait up for him when he came home late. You sprung up at the sound of his footsteps, almost tripping in your haste to get to him. He hadn’t been home in weeks, and he missed you so bad it hurt his heart, but he wasn’t in the right headspace to be with you right then. He wished Steven would take over, but he’d declined the request, stating somewhat rudely that Marc had to deal with his feelings sometimes.

“You’re finally home.” You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tightly. He stayed stiff, the blood on his clothes making his skin feel sticky and gross. He couldn’t hug back. Not with someone else’s blood on him. He didn’t deserve that. When you felt how unresponsive he was, you released him, keeping one hand on his elbow and looking up at him in hurt. He hated the fact that the hurt in your eyes was his fault.

“Why are you up?” he asked, voice flat and tense.

You gaped, mouth falling open and brows drawing together in pain. “I- I missed you, Marc.” He sighed, shaking his head and stepping away. He missed you too, so much, but he couldn’t tell you that. He didn’t deserve to have someone like you to miss. He decided to dismiss your comment entirely as he headed towards the bathroom, you close behind him watching him shuck off his shirt and grab a washcloth. He stepped in, wetting the cloth and wiping the blood from his face and arms, far too exhausted for a shower. “You’ve never minded that I waited before,” you said meekly, rubbing your elbow in discomfort. “It’s just been so long.”

His eyes flicked to yours with regret in the reflection as he scrubbed a patch of red from his cheekbone, pink water running down his arm. He knew it didn’t look like regret in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to express anything. He wasn’t himself. “I can’t deal with you right now.” Fuck. That wasn’t how it was supposed to sound.

He saw your eyes fill with tears and your brows scrunch together from his words, and it solidified what he believed. He didn’t deserve you. Every time you felt pain, it was his goddamn fault. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You whispered, voice cracking.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, grabbing another cloth and wetting it again to continue cleaning. “I’m covered in someone else’s blood.”

“So? I’ve never cared. They’re bad people.” You tilted your head, pleading with him. “If you’re just tired, please tell me. But right now it feels like I’m not who you want.”

He dropped the cloth, bracing himself on the sink. “It’s not about you.” He said, low in his chest. It sounded like a warning, but you refused to heed it.

“Well then who the hell is it about?” You raised your voice slightly as it cracked, shrugging your shoulders up as tears finally spilled from your eyes.

He whipped around, throwing his hands up while his own eyes started to water. “Me! Why the fuck don’t you get that?” He cried out. “I don’t deserve this. I’m covered in another man’s blood. My hands are covered in the blood of�� so many more.” He dropped his head, falling to his knees. His mind flicked to the image of his brother, making him flinch and shut his eyes. “Get out while you still can.”

He saw your feet come forward, dropping to your knees in front of him. You breathed deeply, hands resting on your knees where they touched his. After a moment: “What?”

He stayed silent for a few minutes. He heard you start to sob lightly, and he hated it. It made him finally speak, regardless of his decision to stop. “You deserve better.”

His tears began dripping onto your thighs, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands resting on his back with his head tucked against your chest. It wasn’t the best way to hug, but it worked. “Why?” You asked him, probably just trying to keep him together. Fucking pitiful.

He shook his head, trying his best to explain. “It’s 3 in the morning. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” His voice came out strangled and sounded like he was dying.

“I know.” You murmured, stroking his hair. He felt like a small child who’d had a nightmare. “It’s not your fault.” He cried out, sobbing into your breast. It hurt so bad. It felt like his fault. It was all his fault. You clutched him tighter. “It’s not your fault.”

He didn’t deserve you, he deserved how his mother had treated him. Still, his mother’s voice, screaming against you, wasn’t enough to make him pull away. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you like you were going to get up and walk away. It felt like his fault. It really did.

“It’s not your fault. They deserved it. They were trying to hurt someone.” You rocked him back and forth, soothing him at the surface level. You both remained silent for a moment after that, his tears subsiding for a little while. He felt you breathe, and his own pattern began to match yours.

Until you spoke again. “And it was not your fault. You were a child.” His eyes flooded again, and he shouted against you like he’d been stabbed, loud sobs coming from him now. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve that.” You paused to breathe through your own tears. “But it’s better now. You deserve this. You will never be what she thought of you.” He cried out against you, eyes aching from the effort. “You were robbed of your childhood. You deserve love. You deserve to take that back. We deserve each other, Marc.” His chest hurt, heart and lungs twisting with your words. He wondered how you knew exactly where the root of the issue was. Of course, he’d told you the bones of his childhood, but never her words.

He thought that you were so smart, there had to be some truth to your words. He continued to cry against the soft cotton of your shirt, sniffling as his tears slowed and eventually ran out. You pulled back, putting a finger under his chin and forcing him to meet your red, puffy eyes. “I love you, Marc, and I know you deserve the world. If I am what you want, you deserve me.”

His eyebrows pulled together, the bright light of the bathroom hurting his brain, before he shut them and repeated your words. “It wasn’t my fault.” His voice cracked between two words, shattering his calm again. Small beads of water ran down his cheeks again, falling onto your hand where you moved it to cup his cheek.

“It never was.”

masterlist here

#moon knight #moon knight angst #marc spector #marc spector angst #marc spector x reader angst #marc spector/reader angst #marc spector x reader #marc spector/reader #az writes

209 notes · View notes

nezuscribe · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐝

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pairing: marc spector x reader

genre: angst, blurb, marc sector has me in a chokehold rn 😔

summary: he's the folly of a god, a shell of a man, and no longer who he was when you first met him, a man who used to buy you flowers is now a man covered in blood and you can no longer handle it

word count: 1k

takes place before the show

mcu masterlist

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the bazaar was crowded, bodies pushing up against one another as the smell of saffron and turmeric filled the scene, vendors selling their own food adding the appealing aroma.

"care for some kebab?" the question was simple had the voice behind it not have sounded so tense, so full of fright that to the unknown ear it would have been almost comedic.

you turned your head away, jutting your chin out as you stalked through the sellers, blocking out every noise, every shout and yell as you clenched your fists tightly.

"i can pay," he offered and you almost scoffed, it's not as though he ever let you pay anyways, "free of charge," gods, he was truly awful at joking.

he glanced to his side, biting hard on the inside of his cheek as he noticed you looking even angrier than you usually were, your brows pulled together as you looked straight ahead, refusing to look him in the eye.

he would spill everything if he could, right here, right now. but under the appeasing eyes of so many, he opted to wait, to save it when it was just the two of you and nobody else.

"darlin'," he tried, this time quieter, filled with more desperation, "it's not as bad as it loo-" he heard a snort coming from your end, your jaw ticking as you rolled your eyes at his oblivious words.

"really it's not," he continued, his fingers trying to find yours but you kept pulling them away when he got too close.

your pace quickened, but his long strides made up for it, and he seemingly didn't have to struggle very much to catch up to you, his hand finding your elbow as you paused, glad that you were out of the busy marketplace.

with a deep breath, you looked around, keeping your expression steady as it reflected his rather frantic one.

"marc," you seethed through your teeth, looking away when he took a step forward, not trusting your tuition as you knew you'd just fall into his embrace, "not here."

"yes, here," he argued back, eyes trying to find yours as his hand slipped down to yours, encasing them in his larger, rougher ones. he had callouses on his palms, but you'd always press your lips to them, and say you loved them.

"y/n," he tried once again, slowly, the air filled with a breeze that only autumn held in egypt, something you used to enjoy with him. you glanced up at the starry sky, lips pursing as you thought.

"i saw blood on your hands again," you scoff to yourself as you shake your head at the haunting thought. you could vividly remember finding him in a corner, skin stained red as he widely breathed in and out.

"is that what he wants you to do now?" you pointed up at the sky, "khonshu?" you knew of his past job, heard of what he did. but you had never seen him in action. now, however, you could see the violence in his posture, how he was no longer the same person you met so long ago.

marc let go of your hands, running one through his hair as he looked back at the bazaar and then to you, eyes piercing as he debated an answer.

"marc, y-you're losing yourself!" you shouted when he couldn't think of a response, "look at where we are!" his blood-stained clothing, your crumpled night clothing from running out of your shared bedroom when you saw that he was gone.

"y/n," his hands reached for your face but you pushed them away in disgust. you missed the way his eyes flashed with hurt, how he looked at his own skin as if to see if he had burned you in some way.

"i-i didn't sign up for this marc. you barely come home, the only time i see you is before you go to sleep, covered in blood. i mean, it's like you're a totally different person now," you took a deep breath in, shaking your head as you admitted; "t-this isn't a life i can live in anymore. i just can't, marc," your face broke, and for just a second, you mirrored him. there was pain, longing, and ache.

"darlin', please, give me a chance," he moved after you, realizing you were walking back to the apartment, and sighed deeply through his nose, looking up almost as if he were pleading for help.

"you know i love you, god, i'm so fuckin' sorry for hurtin' ya' but you gotta believe me..." he trailed off, pressing little kissing to your knuckles, lips wet with hidden tears as he shook.

"this whole thing is new to me, i have to get used to it. but darlin', you know i can't forget about you. you're my fuckin life, ya' know that?" he pressed more and more kisses to your arms, traveling upwards as he tried to nudge your jaw with his nose but your eyes wrung shut, your face moving to the other side as you avoided his lips.

"you're so good to me," his voice cracked as his tears wet your skin, "ya' know that? you're so fuckin' amazin' and beautiful, y/n, you're eveyr-"

"no, marc," you wrenched your hand out of his once again, your eyes glossy in the light of the moon, shining over as your lips trembled, your head shaking feverishly as you took a stumbled step back, "no more. please."

he took a step back instantly, hands up in the air almost as a surrender,

"okay, okay, i get it," he quickly moved away, trying to give you space, "no more. how about we go home and i make you somethin', yeah? that pistachio thing you like so much, hm?" he tried for a smile but you shook your head, quick to wipe your tears as you repeated it again.

"no more, marc," you whispered, voice hoarse, and it cracked for a second as his face scrunched up in his oblivious confusion, "no more. please."

and no more, please, translated to you pulling away from his hold, leaving him alone in the eyes of khonshu as he stared aimlessly at your receding figure.

sure he's died before, but nothing felt as painful as watching you walk away with a piece of his heart.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader angst #marc spector drabble #moon knight x reader #moon knight x reader angst #marc spector x you #marc spector x you angst #marc spector #moon knight angst #moon knight #mcu drabble

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down2illusions · 2 years

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Balancing Act: Chapter 1

Focus (as of now): Steven Grant x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I've been thinking of this idea for a long time and I'm excited to finally start this series! While I do my best to do the characters and DID justice, I’m not perfect so criticism welcomed. I hope you enjoy the fic, if not, Happy Scrolling!

Balancing Act Masterlist

Prologue Chapter 2

You tapped Steven’s copy of The Book of the Dead against your hand as you scanned the room. There weren’t many people here, as expected. Thursdays were never all that busy in the British Museum. There were a few odd crowds and wanderers, but nothing major; most people at this time would be at work.

Looking over the ocean of customers you checked to see “most people” included Steven himself. Your intuition was right, Steven had just gone behind the counter and was looking over the packets of jelly. You stopped tapping the copy against your hand, opting to put it under your arm. After that you fixed your clothes and got ready to say hi, but from across the room you saw Dylan talking to him at the counter briefly then walking away to her tour group.

What were they talking about?

Walking across the room with your eyes locked on your destination, you saw that Donna started talking to him too. She didn’t look ready to put him in the oven either. Steven on the other hand… he looked annoyed. Knowing how Donna can be, you approached the gift shop faster. When you were a few steps away, you smiled.

Show time.

“Hey, Donna. Morning, Steven!” Your tone was lazy sounding, but friendly, like a teen counselor at a kids summer camp. While you didn’t necessarily care about Donna, it didn’t pay to advertise.

Steven smiled, most definitely glad he didn’t have to deal with Donna alone. “Good-”

“You know Stevie here’s got a date,” Donna asked, talking over Steven, who reverted back to his annoyed expression. You were taken aback, both because of her question and because she sounded almost offended when asking you.

You didn’t drop character though. “Steven,” you started with a fake shocked tone. You put your hand to your chest dramatically, “You didn’t tell me.”

“Well, it just sort of happened–”

“He’s going to a Steakhouse with Dylan! What’s a bloody vegan gonna eat at a steakhouse?”

You both told her simultaneously he CAN still eat at a steakhouse.

Donna shot a skeptical look. “Eat what?”

“I don’t know. Bread? A salad,” said Steven.

“Baked potatoes,” you added. You looked over at Steven, “they should have vegetables, right? Like on the side?”

“Yeah, I’m sure they just grill them up- OH! Beans!” Steven turned to Donna then pointed at you.

“Beans,” you nodded and pointed back.

Donna rolled her eyes, shook her head, then walked away muttering something about not being able to “deal with you two”.

You watched her, smiling, waiting until she was out of earshot then you turned to Steven. He had a grin on his face. You tried not to laugh as you asked him “you think we made her mad?”

“She’s been driving me mad so it’s about even,” Steven said leaning over the glass counter.

“C’mon, you can’t be talking about your best friend, Donna, like that.”

The smile on his face lessened. “I’ll apologize when we do inventory tonight…”

“Damn. Again?” Inventory seemed to be Donna’s go-to for any minor inconvenience lately. There was no rocket science to be calculated to figure out Steven probably got it because he was late again. Late by a few minutes because of when the trolley reached its stop, sure, but that didn’t matter to Ms. Manager over there.

“It’s not all bad. You get out a bit earlier today. Maybe if I get everything handled quickly or if you want to, we could still walk around a bit?”

“Sure, if you're okay with that, then yeah… Anyway, I gotta clean the archive room.”

“Oh- oh, yeah. Go on then.”

You turned away until you remembered. Taking the book from under your arm, you handed the book back to Steven. “Thanks for the book again, it saved my life.”

“Saved your life, little ironic, innit?”

You shrugged. “You never know when you need it until you do.” You glanced at the clock, “Anyway,” you pointed to the back. Steven smiled and you walked away.

As you went across the room you glanced at Dylan and her tour group. It looked like she was doing a good job, the group was engaged in her explanation of the picture. Not that it should be a surprise, she knew how to tell a story and make people laugh and listen to what she said.

It wasn’t really a surprise that Steven had admired her. They could probably have a two-sided conversation about Egypt and the entire history of everything, more than you could. He wouldn’t have to teach her to have a conversation.

You open the door to the custodial supplies and walk forward. It’s good that they’re going on a date.

It’s good for him.

The light inside the supply closet flickered then stayed on, showing all the detergents and paper towels.

“It’s fine.” Steven deserves to be happy.

Like he said, Steven waited for you to get off the clock, having gotten out before you despite saying he would be on inventory. He told you that Donna kicked him out after he brought up a mistake with the Ennead’s poster. As the museum became further behind the two of you, Steven brought up ideas that would bring justice for the nine deities, and prompted you to dig up years old information in the dark corners of your memory to verbally piece it all together.

By the time the two of you had gotten to a restaurant, four out of nine concepts were created. By the time you left the restaurant with your food you had added another completed concept and the conversation blended into your idea of getting Gus a travel tank and walking around the Botanical Gardens in a wagon. Steven agreed that it would be a fun idea for the two of you, and Gus, to do on a weekend. That way he could show it to her, along with other small adventures you two have been on around the city.

Eventually, you two have made it to performance square with the fountains, fire jugglers, and the golden-statue man. Steven used his free hand to swipe off any debris from the fountain then gestured for you to sit down before doing the same thing for his spot. You two didn’t discuss the other four deities in the Ennead anymore; Steven had more pressing matters on his mind as you ate together.

“Honestly, it’s like my body wants to get up and wander about, you know? Like it has to get 10,000 steps in.” He took a bite from his wrap and stared off, and you let him gather his thoughts. While this wasn’t the first time he’s told you of this problem, and most definitely won’t be the last time, you feel the stress about this issue radiating off him; and he has looked more tired lately. “I don’t even know about it until I wake up wherever.”

“That hasn’t happened for a while though, right?” Your hands clutch your own food as you ask the question.

“Not from the last time I told you, a couple of months ago when I passed out at my desk; but since then, I’ve been thinking about what happens if I were to wander about and end up waking up in another country. It’s why I try to stay awake at night. What do you think?”

Steven put his attention on you while you thought, unsure if he wanted general input or if he was asking you about actually waking up somewhere else. There wasn’t much you could tell him about waking up in another country, but it’s not like you had any more nuance to add from the last couple of times you’ve discussed this. “Well, since you’re a British man, as long as you don’t wake up in France, I think you’re good. Although, if you did, you’d do a whole lot better than me in France, so you got that…”

Steven laughed softly. “Je ne pense pas que tu te donnes assez de crédit, mais merci de croire en moi.”

You smiled back, but shook your head. “Sorry, Steven, but I still don’t speak Italian.” Of course you knew he was speaking French, that’s unmistakable. The only word you were able to catch onto and process was his “thank you”. Steven didn’t respond to your joke, though. He was looking at you, but you couldn’t read his face. You probably shouldn’t have made that joke. You decided to watch the fire jugglers, it was easier to stare into the white centers of the flame than look back at Steven. “So, you and Dylan, when did you ask her out?”

“I didn’t ask her. I don’t know how it happened.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I was probably tired out of my wits to remember.”

“Sounds like you.”

“You say that as if you haven’t been walking around like you came out of the sarcophagus.” A trail of green follows from the fire as you shoot a playful glare at Steven. The green spots danced around the soft violet and orange lights reflecting off his face and in his eyes. It’s not so hard to imagine if things were a little different… but no. Steven cleared his throat, “but, yeah. If I am gonna have a girlfriend– at some point…” he said huddling closer to you, “I can’t have ankle restraints on my bed can I?”

A cackle rips from your throat making you lose balance as you pull away, putting your wrist over your mouth to not disturb the whole district. Steven looked concerned as you choked on your laughs. You apologize through coughs, “that’s just- I’m sorry that sounds so bad out of context.” When you got enough control over yourself, you told him, “go on.”

“You’re having a laugh, but that’s the thing, innit; it’s sort of a Red Flag– the definition of a Red Flag.”

“I dunno, I mean, if you just had the restraint lying around that’s a question mark, but you also have that sand barrier around your bed so– y’know, it’s just, if you explain you you have a sleeping disorder and that you sleep walk and they have a problem with it, I don’t think you need that negativity in your life.”

“Maybe not, but gotta figure something out.” Silence rode out for a while, with neither of you having much to say.

Before you knew it, both of you were finished with dinner and less people were around although the sky was no more navy blue. You two left the fountain area after giving spare cash to the performers. Steven went with you to walk you home.

“What did you think of the book,” Steven asked. “You told me it saved your life.”

“Well, yeah, you never know when you're going to drop into that journey. It just makes me feel prepared for when I go to the Sands of Duvat.”

“Duat,” Steven corrected.

“Duat. Sands of Duat.” Of course, at this point you know you’ve been saying it wrong, but you got too used to saying it wrong from all this time. It’s hard dropping the habit, even if Steven corrects it all the time. “It was better to read that than stare at the ceiling or talking to my roommate late at night, so there’s that.”

“And the other book, what do you think about The Alchemist right now?”

“I’m taking my time with it, but it’s good so far. If you want it back though, I could try blasting through it.”

“No, no, there’s no rush. Take all the time you need, there’s a reason why I recommended it.”

“You say that but you never tell me why.” When he first recommended The Alchemist, you would’ve sworn on your last dollar it was because the story was about someone going to Egypt based on the description. It was a shock when he said no. Ever since you made that assumption, whenever you tried to ask him why he’ll tell you:

“I’ll tell you after.”

“But why not now?”

“You haven’t finished the book, finish the book then I’ll tell you.”

“What if I die?”

“You’re not going—”

“What if you die?”

“What? No! No one’s going to die.”

“You don’t know that.”

Steven stumbled then caught himself, “I promise you, neither of us are going to die before you finish the book.”

“Fine, but if I die first, I’ll haunt you until you tell me.”

“And if I die,” Steven asked.

“I’ll see if I could find you.”

Steven laughed. You walked too close to the edge and you needed to take a step back, and play it off like it’s an absolute joke.

You told him where you were in the story and the new thoughts you’ve formed in the past two or so days. Steven did his best to contribute, but he had a hard time doing so without “spoiling the experience”. You tried to trick him into doing it, but he’d just cover his mouth or threaten to not speak for the remainder of the walk. You were doubtful of such threats, when Steven had something on his mind, he would say it at least 97% of the time; but you agreed regardless.

By the time you passed the building marking the halfway point of your apartment, it was quiet between the two of you. The type that didn’t leave you anxious. Traffic still passed you by and street lights surrounded you both. Steven’s arm brushed against yours, a common symptom of walking too close on a wide path,

It was hard to imagine that one day, these conversations would end. Maybe sooner than you thought, with Steven going on a date with Dylan.

Steven’s arm bumped into yours again. An engine rolled by and you shoved your hands into your pockets then kicked a pebble that was your way. There was a small list of landmarks to pass and you had to say goodbye to him.

You kicked another pebble in your way. Then another.

Another loud engine flew past and you looked over at the street, missing the car. Steven was rubbing his hands together, probably thinking of something that made him nervous. You asked him what he was thinking about.

He confirmed that he was nervous. He didn’t want to “muck everything up” and then have to see Dylan at the museum on Monday. “I know the basics of dating; but hypothetically, if it was you, and we are going on our first date, what should I do, or what should I not do?”

You thought and thought then just settled on the basic things you couldn’t imagine Steven, literally the nicest man you’ve ever met, not doing. “Other than that, just be honest and be yourself I guess. It’s obvious that Dylan likes you already, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have agreed to going on the date. You’re great, and you’ll be fine.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“No, you are.”

Steven thanked you then soon enough the two of you were walking down your street. Glancing over at Steven, you saw he was still messing with his hands.

Maybe it was a dumb idea, but you spoke up, “you can tell me about how your date went afterward, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah,” Steven answered. “Sounds good, maybe we can meet up even if you’re not busy.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Steven slipped past you to open the door of the apartment building with a slight bow. “Definitely. Well, here you are.” You stepped inside, nodding and muttering a thank you in return. You turned back at him and he was still holding the door. ��Laters, gators.”

“Take care, polar bear.” Steven lingered at the door for a moment then waved goodbye and gently closed it.

You stared at the door then turned around slowly.

You took just the right amount of steps to stand in front of your mailbox and unthinkingly unlocked the muted green door then grabbed whatever papers and letters that were inside and forced the door shut. You walked down the rest of the hall to the elevator keeping your head down as you flipped through the mail.

The jaundiced light above you flickered rapidly when you were on your second piece of junk mail. You looked to the right, then behind you, then to the left.

Nothing.

You stood in front of the elevator, waiting for anything else. When it was long enough you rolled your eyes and reached for the elevator button.

The lights flickered more before you could.

The elevator dinged, then opened. A young woman holding a sleeping child at her hip smiled at you. You moved so she could pass without waking her offspring then entered the now empty elevator, pressing the cold metal button for your floor.

The green elevator doors closed then the lights flickered twice then his voice hummed around you, “I told you to let go of attachments.”

Your eyes drift off into the clouded colors of your person in the metal, trying to ignore what he said so calm and effortlessly. There was nothing wrong with having Steven for a friend.

“There is nothing else for you here.”

You stare harder into the stainless steel reflection trying to keep eye contact with the blurred picture of yourself. The mail crinkled under your grip.

“I am sorry however.”

It sounds like he actually means it.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“Good.”

The elevator made its own humming tune with the lights; and it got colder. Your mind wandered to Steven, who was not just an attachment, still walking in London’s streets. He was probably almost home. He was off tomorrow, so he was probably going to stay up into tomorrow reading all those books in his one-man library. He was definitely going to have more fun than you were.

All you could ask yourself is: what now? What’s next? And the quietest question in your mind: why me?

The elevator dinged in response. Your arms were covered in goosebumps by the time you came to the rattling stop.

The doors opened.

Straightening your back, you walked out of the elevator with your head held high. When you turned right the overwhelming smoke of his presence led to the other end where he stood, head held higher. As you got closer, the focus of your eyes lowered from the towering stature of Anubis, former Lord of the Dead.

Former God of Mummification.

“Even through grief, we are to do what is expected of us.” You can’t put a number on the amount of times he’s said that to you throughout your years together. At this point, you don’t even try. “Set your items down then be ready.” He wrapped his words in a stern voice, he wanted you out there fast.

You nodded. When he didn’t say anything else you marched inside. You stood out there long enough.

The time passed through you like wind. Particular buildings or squares didn’t register on your radar, you doubt you have not been in a fight with someone before squatting on the stone roof of a crypt you seem to end up on more times than not, but it was nothing more than picking up a decorative couch pillow from the floor. The night was too quiet and unspectacular.

All you have at this moment is frustration caused by some group of frat boys who were drunk off their ass and leaving cans and bottles on headstones. Rage swarmed around you like mosquitos, looking on into the distance Anubis was there fuming stoically. The grasp of the metal around your neck tightened along with the wraps of the rest of your armor, beckoning you to deliver Anubis’s divine judgment.

You stood up from the crypt then unwielded a khopesh, holding it out to the side. Then you stomped on the roof, echoing the thumps echo into the field of headstones.

The group’s attention was on you, but they didn’t move.

You pointed the hooked blade toward them then jumped down and stormed toward them. They ran, swearing amongst themselves on how they weren’t dying tonight. You slowed down, eyeing the refuse you now had to pick up.

Then out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a pale moon. The pale moon of a straggler taking his pants down near a tree with a yellow ribbon around the trunk.

Now you were seeing red, you threw the khopesh near him. The straggler jumped ten feet in the air then ran off pulling up his pants.

Everyone was gone, Slugging the rest of the way until you stood in front of a glossy headstone of where the party was. The blade in the ground turned into sand in the air then reformed into your hand. You stared deeply into the green bottle on top.

You sliced the glass in half, then struck it to the ground.

The armor comes down allowing you to finally breathe. Kneeling, you gathered the garbage into a pile, starting with the top half of the bottle you sliced clean.

“You should have done that to the ones desecrating these grounds.”

The flash of anger was fizzling still. If there was ever a time where you wished someone was petty enough to stick around, it would be now. Instead, it was only you and Anubis. Standing by, fuming. A giant cloud full of lightning, without nearly as much thunder.

Wherever you ran for that night, the storm cloud followed, uncaring of anything.

Except, for the British Museum. The museum was a lightning rod for everything important to Anubis.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #marc spector x f!reader #moon knight x reader angst #steven grant x reader angst #marc spector x reader angst

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lokisfirecracker · 2 years

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marc spector tags

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x female reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #marc spector smut #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x gn!reader #marc spector x reader fluff #marc spector x reader angst #marc spector x reader smut

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l0caltiredgirl · 4 months

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

the struggle is real

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popquizhot-shot · 4 months

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Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

#jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #jake lockley angst #marc spector angst #moon knight angst #moon knight #marvel cinematic universe #oscar isaac x reader

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mgparker · 3 months

Text

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour.

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you.

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders.

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you.

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about.

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look.

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone.

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly.

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh.

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon.

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met.

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before.

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again.

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table.

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits.

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question.

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure.

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.”

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time.

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes.

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it.

Not that you wanted to.

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment--

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours.

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed.

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way.

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week.

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace.

Acceptance.

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch.

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys.

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy.

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you.

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god.

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar.

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity.

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you.

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it.

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back.

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you.

“What does that even mean?” You groaned.

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under.

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly.

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all.

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well.

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

#marc spector angst #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon boys #moonknight #moon knight #Marc Spector #Steven grant #jake lockley #oscar Isaac #marvel #f!reader #angst #character death #character wound #mgparker

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blue-sadie · 6 months

Text

Save Him

Moon System x Ex Reader

Summary: he thought he could save you but leaving you was the worst thing he ever did

Warning: pet death, dog name = buddy

Yn/3rd person pov

I groaned out in pain as I dragged my battered body across my floor crawling over to my fur baby "buddy" I chocked as I finally reached him I felt my eyes glaze over with tears as I looked over his wounded body "buddy".

My hands trembled as they went to touch him "no no no" I cried and slowly cradled him into my body "please stay with me please" I kissed his snot "p-please don't leave me".

The tears fell from my cheeks onto his fur dampening it I screamed out hoping someone would come help me "someone please" the tears flowed down my cheeks like a river and my lips quivered.

I let my eyes wonder over the recked apartment searching for anything that could help me my eyes locked on my phone I threw at the intruders "come on" I cried and slowly clawed my way to it still holding buddy tightly in my arms.

"Fuck" I coughed seeing a small splatter of blood land on the floor infront of me as I reached out for my phone screaming out as it damaged my wounds more.

I opened the phone as fast as my bloodied finger tips let me going straight to contacts my heart froze I didn't have anyone to call and for the life of me I couldn't remember the emergency number 'why can't they all be 911'.

I scrolled through my contacts knowing if I couldn't get a hold of anyone soon it would be the end for me, my hand stopped as I came to his number he was the only one in this area that could help me.

We didn't end on good terms so would he help me anyways I sighed in pain and pressed call it rang for a few minutes before being sent into voice mail "fuck" I cried and hit call again "please please pick up" I pleaded.

It went to voice mail again "m-marc, please I-I don't have anyone else to call, they broke in and I'm wounded buddy is hurt please.... I need you" my voice wavered as I spoke the last words.

My thumb hesitantly pressed the hung up bottom and it was like the whole world fell into a maddening silence except for the sound of my short breathes.

I placed the phone down beside me and sat myself up against the flipped over couch keeping buddy close to my chest hugging him tightly because I was afraid he'll disappear.

The minutes that passed felt like ours it was funny how when your in pain time almost slowed down into a complete stop, with each passing minute breathing started becoming harder and my vision started to darken.

I looked towards the door praying for something to happen and that's when I heard it the thundering foots coming down the corridor and the familiar voice I once loved "yn" he sounded breathless as he banged on the door.

I watched as the door flung open to reveal a very freaked out marc who rushed towards me "s-save him" I choked trying to pass buddy to marc but I didn't have the strength "shh I got to help you" marc whispered and gently took him from my arms and layed him beside.

I tried pushing his hands away from me "save him, save him please" I sob and tried to get out of his arms as he picked me up to get back to buddy's side "he'll want me to take care of you yn" marc tried calming me down but I just pushed my head into his neck trying to convince him to go back but all my words were landing on deaf ears.

He gently layed me in the back of the car and rushed to the driver's seat and as soon as the door closed I could see him change "t-take me back jake" I whimpered my throat tightening as I started to cough "I'm sorry mi amor" was all he said before driving towards the hospital but all I remember was rounding the first corner before sleep took me.

Jakes pov

I paced back and forth in the waiting room as steven frantically tried to calm himself down while marc didn't speak at all "this is all our fault" I stared at Steven in the mirror that was to the side of me "we did this to her they did this to her because of us".

We just listened to him because we knew he was right "Mr Lockley" I snapped turning towards the lady calling out to me "any news" I asked and walked to her swiftly she shook her head "she is still in surgery but I think it's best you head home we have your number for any updates on your friend".

My heart stung as she called yn our friend, I looked towards the mirror again and saw marc watching me with puffy eyes "ok gracius" I murmured and slowly walked out the door to my car "why are we abandoning her" steven shouted but I just ignored him and got in.

The drive was almost silent, Steven's shouts had turned into mutters and whispers, I was on autopilot I've driven there so many times I could do it blind folded "what are we doing here jake" marc spoke up for the first time "the least we can do is clean up the mess we caused" i muttered I closed my eyes and let steven take control.

Steven pov

I climbed up the stairs and with step getting closer my heart felt more shattered, I paused outside the broken door taking a long breath before pushing it open, I looked over all her ruined belongings "what have we done" I whispered and with shakey legs went inside.

My eyes locked on buddy's unmoving body I slowly went to sit close to him but not touch him, a single tear ran down my face as I stared at his blood covered fur I covered my face as the tears got worse "we could have saved them" my breathes quickened as I cried.

"If we just came earlier" I sunk further into myself with each word I spoke flashes of all the good memories we had filled my mind "she didn't deserve this" I whispered into my hands, "steven" I ignored marc and didn't even bother to look up "Steven" this time it was jake.

"What" I whispered my breath catching as I looked up "buddy" I asked causing the small dog to bark I looked around the apartment to see if this was a joke but no one else was there "buddy" I cried out in joy and brought the dog into my arms he squirmed in my arms and licked my face barking in excitement.

"H-how" I frowned my brows in confusion I looked behind me once more to see khonsu there "she is what we protect" he spoke calmly "she is the light no one shell extinguish" "thank you khonsu" I murmured and gently put buddy down.

My sadness felt lifted "let's fix this place up shell we" I smiled petting buddy one last time before standing up I sighed out and looked around the room "let's get to work" I murmured, I just did the basics like picking up all the broken pieces of her gadgets and shards of glass and putting back all her furniture back and when I was done with that I just felt like to do extra.

I washed all of her dirty clothes that were all over her bathroom floor, changed her bed sheets, I did the dishes sorted out her fridge and pantry even decided to vacuum and mop all her floors in till the place was spotless "good days work" I smiled admiring all of my hard work but suddenly a yawn escaped my lips "a quick nap won't hurt" I murmured and slowly collapsed onto her comfy couch.

Marc's pov

I stared at the familiar ceiling for I don't know how long its been about 5 days since the break in, I was stuck in my head for most of it, my hands softly petted buddy as he layed on my stomach I thought of many different ways we could have prevented this from happening or how I could stop this from happening in the future "we should go see her" steven murmured but I just sighed and moved buddy carefully off of me "she doesn't want to see us steven" I said and rubbed my face.

I looked towards the door as I heard nearing footsteps to the door the person knocked lightly and spoke "ms yn, it's the adoption agency" I tilted my head I confusion as I got up and opened the door "oh your not ms yn" the woman murmured looking down at her clip board in confusion "I'm her... friend im house sitting for a while may I help you with something" I sighed crossing my arms she nodded eagerly and brought out a cage that was behind her.

"Um this is her cat she has the food and everything the last time I check" the lady rambled and pushed the cage into my hands I nodded lifted the cage up to look in, my eyes softened as I saw the kitten we talked about adopting a few months perier "does he have a name yet" i asked "yes let's see here" she dragged her finger down the page "uh khonsau chandu I can't say that" the lady huffed and showed me the paper I laughed "khonsu" I whispered.

The lady nodded "here please sign here and here" I gently placed the cage inside and signed the paper "ok have a good day" the lady walked off hurriedly I closed the door quietly and slowly opened the cage so I didn't frighten it "come on little guy" I smiled to see the little kitten shyly walk out it looked around its surroundings his gaze landing on buddy who just sat patiently staring at him with curiosity I smiled fondly at the two.

My phone started to vibrate in my pocket and I took it out and answered it "hello" I murmured "hi Mr lockley, this is the hospital phoning to let you know ms yn is being released now and is being taken home I'm sure it would be easier if your there as well" I confirmed with the caller that I was already here "that is all thank you" the caller said before hanging up I popped my phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath "everything is going to be ok".

Yn pov

I stared out the window, he didn't come visit once maybe he hates me more now and just saved me out of guilt "we're almost there" the driver smiled back at me through the review mirror I gave him a forced smile back, I didn't want to go back and deal with the whole mess and... buddy I bit my lip I have to stay strong, my body trembled as the car came to a stop I felt weak and just wanted to srivel up and disappear "here we go ms" the driver opened up the door for me and helped me out.

"Do you need me to walk you u-" "I got it from here thanks" my eyes snapped to Marc's as he stepped out from my building the driver looked at me for confirmation I nodded slowly "ok have a nice day ms" the driver said before getting back in his car and driving off, I just stared at Marc not knowing what to saw "hi" he said nervously, I let out a shakey breathe "I'm sorry for getting you involved" I murmured making him frown his eyes in confusion "you don't have to apologize for that yn it wasn't your fault" he reassured walking up to me.

He wrapped his arm around me carefully "now come on we have a surprise for you" he smiled and helped me into the building "I swear Marc if you stuffed my dog I will chop of your balls" I murmured half jokingly, for some reason it almost feels like we're back to normal he chuckled and shook his head and urged me first into my apartment I hesitated for a minute "it's ok" he whispered rubbing his hand comfortly up and down my back I let out a sigh and opened up the door my eyes instantly widening.

"H-how" it was like time has been rewinded "buddy" I squealed out and caught the dog as he leaped into my arms I stumbled a bit but marc caught me "and look over there" he murmured his hands still around me as he pointed I looked over to see the cat I adopted slowly walking towards us I placed buddy and watched in aw as the two played, i glanced at marc to see him already staring at me, I felt my heart full once again "thank you guys" I smiled and leaned up onto my tip toes and layed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He blushed and dark red his hands tighten around me keeping me close to him "I'm sorry yn" he whispered making me shake my head "you were only trying to protect me" I murmured "but that almost got you killed" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes I gently raised my hands to his face and caressed his cheeks "you did even though you ignored me the first time" I squinted my eyes playfully at him making him chuckle "you protect everyone every single day so you can protect me" I murmured and pecked his lips.

"I will always protect you, I thought I was by leaving you but it just shows me how much I need you and I'll never miss up like this again I promise you"

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thisisarcanereverie · 2 years

Note

💧(near death experience) &' your warm'

Marc Spector (Moon Knight) saves reader.

You're Warm (Marc Spector x Reader)

Hey! Here is the first fic from my 500 follower celebration prompt list (here is the link)

(here is my ask box)

The plan was simple, you took the rear while Marc went in through the front, took most of the brunt force while you were left to deal with any stragglers left behind.

You were infiltrating this big company, who had gotten its great successes literally overnight, shares had gone up significantly, more people invested, and more profit. What made you and Marc investigate was the fact that for a couple of weeks now since the company’s big break, people have gone missing, especially those that happen to walk in front of the large corporate building, and only at night.

Khonshu had investigated the inside of the building while you and Marc hit the books. Apparently, the company’s CEO was an avid scholar and had recently been terminated from his apprenticeship as a curator in a museum after several artifacts had gone missing. One of those artifacts happened to be something inscribed in an old language translated to “The Blood of Wishes” which was believed to be able to grant one's deepest desires by sacrificing a human heart every full moon.

Since they were harming the travelers of the night, this fell under Moon Knight’s jurisdiction, and although Marc would love nothing but to keep you home, far away from any danger. You’ve made it very clear that was never going to happen. That you could take care of yourself, you may not have healing armor, but you do just fine.

The plan was simple, Moon Knight would kill the CEO while you located the artifact as Marc drew most of the hostile attention towards himself.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.

So far the plan went swimmingly, and the state of the art com set that you had splurged on was clear as could be. You had located the room in the sub level basement where the artifact was being held, you had easily bypassed the security code and entered the room. You grabbed the overall evil wish conjuring artifact and put it in your bag. And just as you were about to turn and make a beeline for your motorcycle out back.

You felt cold.

At first you didn’t feel it, which you assumed must have been shock taking over your body. You didn’t panic, but your hands still shook as you reached for the growing dark wet spot on your shirt. Your hand comes back a wet, sticky, scarlet color.

You tried to think but you couldn’t, you tried to step forward but fell onto the cold concrete floor with a loud thud. Your vision blurred as you could only register the rapid sounds of knives flashing through the air, a man begging for his life, and white glowing eyes.

Before everything went to black.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Marc woke up, his breath erratic as his heart beat. He closes his eyes and tries not to remember that night, in this line of work he has seen a lot of death, and has been dead himself. But never has he ever felt such grief when he saw you on the ground, your blood pooling around you like a sick crimson halo pair of wings. When he had gotten to you, your usually warm skin had become clammy and cold. He had no choice but to bring you to a hospital for surgery, Marc had called Dr. Strange and a few connections to get you into surgery with minimal questions. The road to recovery had been long, but as he looked beside him and saw you, your face giving a warm and healthy glow in the morning sun, the crinkle of your nose and the way your eyelashes fluttered. He reminded himself you were real, you were alive.

He was about to leave the bed when he felt your hand grab his unconsciously. As much as he needed to use the bathroom, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave you. The grip you have on him, his soul, was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. So slowly he slipped back into the bed beside you, brought the hand you held his in to his lips, giving it the softest of kisses, as he denied the tear that almost escaped from his dark eyes as he burrowed his face in the nook of your neck letting the even vibration of your beating pulse calm him as he breathed in your scent. His arms held your securely against him as he relished in the heat you exuded, heat that obliterated that night from thought as well as the lingering doubts and pains and scars that life had left behind on him, visible or not. You began to stir as he whispered one thing against you.

“You’re warm”

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romanarose · 3 months

Text

Misunderstanding

Marc Spector x fem!reader

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Summary: When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.

Warnings: PIV sex, wall sex, oral f!recieving, manhandling, rough needy smut but loving and passionate, anxiety attack, Marc's self loathing but reader adores him. Calling Marc all kinda of cute nick names.

Immersability: Reader is fem, afab. Reader can be largly supported against the wall by Marc's strong arms <3

A/N: Commission done for @minigirl87 thank you SOOOOOOO much for your patience!!! Next time I do commissions i need to not do them right before moving. Left me quite behind. Anyway appreciate you so much!

Support creators! Reblog!

2.2k words

********************

Chaos made Marc anxious.

So, that’s why you decided to do spring cleaning while he and the boys were at work, hoping to get most of it done before the boys returned from work. What threw all your plans out of whack was a chance spotting on facebook marketplace. The prettiest furniture you’ve ever seen in your life was for fucking free. The owners were cleaning out the house from their mom who just passed, and just wanted the furniture to go to someone who’d love it like their mom did. And boy did you love it. The style was French Louis XVI. Fucking beautiful. So, you were making room.

A lot was going to be given away with permission from your boys, and you’d be doing a lot of reorganizing of Steven’s books. A lot of trash, oh my god so much trash. Marc sure did love take out, even if it drove Jakey crazy. Then your old furniture was hauled out into the street for the garbage on tuesday, or some desperate soul. You hadn’t quite gotten to organizing Steven’s books and papers, but the trash was picked up, floors swept and mopped, and the old furniture was out. You needed to pick up your dream furniture, so you hopped into your car.

Steven was elated he got to go home early. It was only an hour, but that’s an hour more with you!!! You loved extra time with you!! There was a spring in his step, happily humming along to some song on Jake’s playlist on their phone.

Until he saw it.

‘Aye, ¿que es?’ Jak asked, interrupting Steven’s happy thoughts.

Marc. ‘Is that… our furniture?’

“Oh my god…” Steven murmurs, slowing his steps. All their things were on the street.

‘She’s leaving us.’

“Oh, will you calm the hell down.” But Steven was a little nervous. He walks up the apartment stairs, ready to find you and get it all sorted out but… you weren’t there. The place looked so bare, so empty… The pictures on the walls were taken down, all the memories together, clothes were half-sorted in the bedroom and sheets off the bed…

You were gone. You didn’t want them anymore.

Marc took the body, pulling out his phone and calling you multiple times, but you went straight to voicemail.

“She’s done with us” Marc groans, backing against the wall. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

‘Mate, you need to calm down’ Steven tried to assure Marc, but he was nervous too.

Marc slid down the wall, beginning to panic. “Not this again…”

Jake and Steven attempted to tell him there’s another reason, logically.

‘She wouldn't just us… leave us’ Jake insisted. ‘She’s not like that. She’d tell us if there was an issue.’

None of this helped calm Marc, and he mentally checked out, sitting against the wall on the floor staring out the window.

That’s how you found Marc, dissociating and mentally checked out when you got home.

“Marcy Marc? Baby? Are you okay?” You toss your keys onto the counter and approach him, but stop when he suddenly jerks towards you like a scared animal.

Marc looks up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he scrambles to stand up. “Holy shit, you’re here…” He mutters, dashing over to you. “Baby, whatever it is, I swear to god I’ll fix it-” Marc hugs you so tightly it knocks the breath out of you with the force of him, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Normally, you loved his bear hugs, they made you feel safe and oh-so loved, but right now his actions warned you he was upset. You always knew when your man was in distress, even when he tried to hide it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”

You hug him right back. “Marc, honey, what’s going on? You didn’t do anything wrong.” That you know of, but honestly you couldn’t foresee Marc, Jake or Steven doing anything bad enough for you to be upset about. Only thing would be… Gently, so he knows you aren’t rejecting his affection, you nudge him away so you can look in his eyes. However, you keep hold on his arms. Marc’s love language was physical touch, so you always showed your love to him this way.

“Baby…” You look into his eyes, keeping your tone and facial expressions soft. “Have you heard from Khonshu lately?”

Confusion spreads on Marc’s face, his already large eyes widening. “No! Nonononono is that what this is about? You thought I was with Khonshu again?”

You were confused too. “I didn’t think anything was happening until I came home and you were against the wall. Marc, sweetheart.” You search his face for answers. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m confused.”

He sputters a bit, trying to find the words. “Y-you’re leaving! You’re leaving us…”

You blink at him. “Huh? I’m not leaving you, god Marc, whatever got you this worked up? Sweetie, I’ve never been happier than with you three…”

“The furniture is on the street… Things are packed up… And, and and- the pictures! The pictures, they’re are taken down, our whole life together is off the walls-”

Ah. “Marc…” You realize what happened now. “Oh sweetheart, sweetie pie… I’m not leaving you. I’m doing spring cleaning. Remember, last week we went over what I could give away?”

The recognition slowly starts to spread across his face. “But… the pictures…”

“I took them down to wash the walls.”

“Oh… and the furniture?” It was beginning to click for him. This was all a misunderstanding.

You smile softly. “I found the coolest furniture. Steven will love it.”

He blinked. And again. “So… you don’t hate me?”

Your heart nearly broke at his words. “Oh Marc, no!” You gather him up in your arms again. “My sweet, sweet man I could never!”

You see his lip quiver a bit, but instead of crying Marc crashes his mouth into yours, large hands groping at your body with a fevur, like he couldn't believe you were real, that you were still here, still wanted him.

And he needed you.

“C’mere-” He grunted, gripping your asscheeks and pulling you towards him as he kisses you, mouth claiming yours in desperation.

Instantly you were filled with desire; Marc tended to do that to you. He was so handsome, so kind, so gentle you couldn’t help giving your all to him right away. Marc backed you up against the wall, the hand behind your head preventing you from smacking it against the plaster. He always looked out for you like that. You could feel his hardness as his wide hips ground into you, his plump pressed stomach against yours. You love how he’s softened, still so strong, but the safety of your home and the very idea that he wasn’t on the run and living in storage units… His body felt as safe as his mind did.

Marc’s mouth consumed you, licking into your mouth as his knee rid up between your legs. In loose, thin basketball shorts you felt his thick, manly thighs and sigh and pleasure.

“Marc…” You moan for him, unable to control the sounds of pleasure from escaping your mouth as you work yourself on his body. Hitching a leg up against his side, you cling to Marc for stability as he uses his grip on your ass for leverage, dragging you up and down on him. Marc’s kisses are insatiable, you feel as if he is attempting to breathe you in with heavy pants, kissing your lips and neck. Your face is wet from the open-mouth kisses.

Suddenly, and without warning, just as you are approaching the precipice humping his thigh, Marc pulls away and for a moment you think he got in his own head again, but then you are turned, face pressed against the wall but not painfully. Marc pulls your hips out, bends down to pull down your shorts and fucking picks you up by your pressed together legs to pull the shorts away. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he then kicks apart your ankles forcing your legs open. You aren’t even sure when Marc undid his pants, but before you know it, he is thrusting into your pliant and waiting body.

“M-Marc…” You repeat, his name the only thing on your mind is his name and his cock. Okay and maybe his hand wrapping around your front and snaking up your body. He plays with your grunts, grunting with his breaths hot against your ear and in time to the slamming thrusts of his hips. You brace against the wall, pushing your ass out more to take more of his length inside you.

“Thought I lost you…” He mutters, face tucked into your neck.

“Never, never Ma- AH!” You cry out when he squeezes a tit hard, pressing bruises through your shirt. “You-mmmph-you’re stuck with me.”

He pounds your core, rough thrusts mixed with soft kisses. You tilt your head back, desperate for his mouth, his love, his affection yours. He obliges, always knowing what you need and meeting your mouth to sloppily make out with you like horny teenagers. It was needy, it was desperate, it was Marc’s complete and utter relief that he was not going to be left shattered. He filled you over and over and again, the fat tip of his cock pressing up against that beautiful spot inside you. When you came, it was hard, pulsing on his cock again and again and again. Marc wrapped his arm under your middle as your legs began to feel like jell-o.

“Mine.” He growls, spilling his cum inside you. “Fucking mine. Don’t every fucking scare me like that again.”

You want to tell him you didn’t that he jumped to his own conclusions but you were barely standing when he twirled you around again. Dropping to his knees, Marc looked up at you, large and wet brown eyes gazing at you in adoration. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful…

“I won’t…” You whisper down to his hopeful face. “I promise. I love you so much.”

With a relieved look on his face, Marc smiles at you and god is it nice to see him smile. “I love you too, baby.” With that, he hitches a leg over his shoulder and dives into your pussy. Between his cum and yours, it’s a mess down there and that’s further evidenced by the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth as he sluuuurped up the evidence of your time together. Marc was eager, eating his own cum out of you while keeping your supported against the wall. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall. His tongue swirled against your clit, making you buck against him so one hand pinned your hips to the wall. He ate like this was his last meal, like his salvation came from your pleasure.

When he sucked on the sensitive nub, you cry out his name and dig your fingers into Marc’s dark curls, keeping him close to you. As if he’d ever leave. You were close again, the whirling swirling feeling deep inside you continuing to build like a twister into a tornado as you chant Marc, Marc, Marc like the repetition of a Rosary. His tongue flicked inside you, one hand keeping you upright against the wall and the other playing with your clit, making you come apart directly into his mouth.

You pull on his hair so hard you worry you’re hurting him but the way Marc shoves his face into you even harder spurs you on. You can hear and feel him moaning into you as he laps up your release, a soft mmmmmm reverbating against your pussy and prolonging it as you ride his face. Your left leg is so tired, so sore, starting to wobble and Marc notices as he finally pulls away. Marc helps you slide down the wall, landing you safely on your bottom.

On his hands and knees, Marc Spector crawls to you, kissing your lips tenderly but you can see his own exhaustion too. Cupping his face in both your hands, you kiss Marc as you lay him down on your naked lap. You’re surprised with how quickly Marc’s full lashes flutter closed, his head resting between the crux of your thigh and stomach.

You play with his hair. He seems so tired, today must’ve taken it out of him. After a whole day of work, coming home to thinking you were gone. You know how anxiety can physically drain you.

“That really scared you, huh?” You say, petting him like a cat. You swear you can hear him pur.

Marc talks soft, sleepy, eyes never opening. “Yeah. Thought I lost you… I can’t do that.”

“I’ll never leave you, sweetie. And I’d certainly never leave like that… But I know how anxiety can be.”

His voice was groggy with sleep, quiet and muttered. “Yeah, it fuck’n sucks.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “It does, baby, it does. But I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere. Can’t get rid of me if you tried, Spector.”

He hums constantly, and in another moment, Marc is snoring softly. He’s so cute.

Then, he’s snoring loudly.

Why didn’t Steven and Jake snore? Made no fucking sense.

Sighing, you settle back against the wall and maneuver enough to grab your shorts without waking your sleeping, tuckered out little boyfriend. You pull out your phone, take a few cute pictures (some with flowery or silly snapchat filters) then go play Candy Crush. He needed to rest.

Mostly, because he had a long day and was so so adorable when he was sleeping even if he was loud as all goddamn hell.

But also, you still had several pieces of furniture sitting in your car and there was no way you were going to move all of them yourself.

*************

We love a reader who can take care of an anxious baby <3

Thank you so much for reading!!!! This is my first marc, or any moon knight in a few months. I MISSED HIIIIIIMMMMMMMM

My beloved one <3

MY MOON KNIGHT RETURN IS HERE!!!!!!

I got a dark reader x marc coming up IF I OULD EVER GET A GOOD KNIGHTS SLEEP follow @romana-after-dark for that

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loud-mouth-loser · 5 months

Text

not him - 2

summary: marc has had his eye on you for a while now. he's seen your interactions with steven and has held himself back from taking you for himself, but what happens after he finally makes a move?

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: more angst

cw: pining (really intense pining), jealousy, miscommunication, mentions of past kiss.

wc: 2.7k

part one

[author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid chapter spoilers!]

---

Marc’s POV

It’s your laugh, that soothing, sweet sound – so inviting that he wants it to soak right into his skin. When he hears it, he holds it close to him, making sure he doesn’t miss a single note. Letting it replay in his head until the next time he sees you.

Marc has never considered himself a funny guy – or hadn’t for a while. He never had a reason to joke around, a reason to smile or laugh, but then there was you.

So now he tries his best to incite that laughter, if only for a mere taste of your sweetness.

He’s equally addicted to that view. The sight of soft lips parting into a bright smile, your shoulders shaking with each stilted breath, your eyes glistening with unerupted joy; a bliss that he’s craved to know since the day his brother passed. And it’s genuine.

Everything about you is genuine.

Then, when you come down from the laughter, you look up at him with a ghost of a giggle still thrumming in the air, still tugging at the corner of your mouth. He can’t help but stare back, wishing this moment could last forever.

It’s just you and him, nursing sweating bottles of beer on his ratty old couch, the TV running quietly in the background as you unconsciously lean closer as the night progresses. He plunges into that gaze wrapped in innocent moments and admiration, a look that whispers unspoken sentiments and unattainable promises.

You are looking at him, yes, but you also see him.

He feels it wrap around him, a warmth that reminds him he’s worth being around, that you want to be there with him. It sparks a revelation within himself that if he could make you laugh, or even look at him the way you do, maybe…being him is ok.

And maybe he wants to stay.

But then there’s that smile – no, not your usual amused grin or the bashful one he attempts to lure out whenever he gains enough confidence to tell you how pretty you look – the cherry-red lie that’s specially curated for Steven.

It’s a mask you use to preserve your friendship, to convince the oblivious man that you’re happy for him even when your side of the bond is crumbling, struggling to stand up straight.

The first time Marc saw that smile was from the reflection in his apartment.

He usually doesn’t stir or interfere while Steven is fronting, unless there’s an emergency of course, but there was a pang of energy that woke him up. And now he’s wondering if it was you.

He watched broodily from the fish tank; jaw clenched tight as Steven sat in front of you holding your hands in his. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he can’t help the ire burning low in his chest as he watches you position yourself closer to Steven, eager to hear what he has to say.

Marc’s eyes drift from your hopeful face to your joined hands.

He wonders how that feels: to hold your smaller hands in his, to squeeze them just so as to remind him that you’re real and there with him, to feel you squeeze back and run the soft pads of your fingers over his callouses.

Your softness smoothing over his jagged ends.

You like it – the touch. Steven’s touch.

He can see it.

But you’ve always liked it when Steven gives you physical affection, even if it was all platonic. You’d lean into him, practically craving it, eagerly presenting yourself to his hand. And he’d give it to you, merely enjoying the closeness you offer him – nothing more.

Your eyes are wide, and you lean in, listening intently, but at the same time, you’re not hearing a thing. Marc can see that you’re lost in Steven, a feeling he’s often had around you.

The giddy comfort you felt from his touch instantly dissolves as he continues to speak, “And we kissed…” You lean back from him, quickly covering your reaction with a blank expression. Marc can see right through it.

Needless to say, Marc also isn’t too happy hearing about Steven’s escapades with his estranged wife; He’s always been protective of Layla, but now more than ever. Layla had once been his rock, keeping him grounded as life attempted to sweep him away. She was the only person he trusted for a while, the only one he could lean on and hold whenever he wanted to give up.

Because of that, he left.

Too much of a great thing can only lead to a horrible ending.

Right?

He convinced himself he did it because he didn’t want her to get involved in his life of violence, of his life as an avatar. She was always getting dragged into business that wasn’t hers, used as bait to lure him out of the shadows, and Khonshu was starting to hint at making her his next avatar.

That is a reason, a sound reason, but he can admit now that that wasn’t the main reason. At some point, Marc realized could never love her the way she wanted him to.

When he first felt it, he couldn’t shake it. He was forced to face it until it utterly consumed his thoughts, until he could taste it hanging from each word, turning every whisper into a sour void. He felt unworthy of her affections and ashamed that he continued to take and take, drinking in every last drop of warmth she could supply. Anything to numb that looming darkness that threatens to drag him under the bloody viscous waves of his past.

And all he could give in return was surface-level words and cool kisses. Guilt dripped from his embrace and soaked against her soft skin, and he knew he had to pull away.

Steven, the lovesick puppy, was completely oblivious to what he was inviting her back into: danger, violence, and an unspoken truth.

Marc should be jealous that his wife and alter are continuing to fraternize behind his back, or angry that Steven went against his wishes and welcomed her back into his life, but he’s not. Mostly, he’s nervous to face what he wasn’t strong enough to do, scared that he’ll continue to push it away until it swallows him whole.

Then there’s you.

Your eyes are glassy and empty as you nod robotically as Steven rambles, lost in his own words. “...the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.” Your hands attempt to retreat from his and Steven doesn’t notice, but he does.

The audacity of Steven to talk about this stuff to your face astounds him. How can a man who shares his body be so clueless? So stupid to not see what’s right in front of him, offering herself for any ounce of attention he shows.

“I love her.”

And there he sees your heart shatter.

“That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.”

—

All he can do is stare back, eyes taking in your swollen lips and wrinkled clothes. Your bodies breathe together, catching a breath as you process what just happened. There’s a voice in the back of his head urging him to pull you back in, to drink the ambrosia of your lips until you melt against him and beg for more, while he still has the chance. But he knows that if he were to move the spell would be broken.

And he was right.

When the stare breaks so does the moment. You clumsily slip off of his lap and sit back on your side of the couch. His hand hovers over your figure as you move away from him, a ghost of the touch he once had on you, desperate to stop you from leaving him. Fingers grip painfully into his palms as they curl into a fist of frustration and loss.

You both sit there for a second. It’s easier to think when your bodies are pressed against each other. When you aren’t tempted to lean in for one more kiss.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to get this far.

Ever since meeting you, he’s tried his best to keep his distance, to watch you pine for Steven from afar as he harbored his own longing for you. Marc never believed he deserved it, you, always taking three steps back before he could touch a perfect thing. Before he could ruin what was already breaking.

He’s supposed to be detached from real life, from anything outside of his work. He’s convinced himself that he was okay with letting you go, even promising Steven he would give him complete control of the body once he was done with Khonshu. But now he doesn’t think he can. He can’t leave you.

Marc finally builds the courage to look over at you.

Your eyes are closed, not squeezed shut, just closed. The soft glow of the TV pools over your body. You could probably feel his eyes on you so you begin to talk.

“I’m confused.”

“Confused.” He repeats with a soft nod, letting the word settle in his mind.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Of course, you’re confused, this whole night has been a series of bold actions and heated words. One second you’re having a pity party at your crush’s flat and the next you’re crawling on top of his alter. You still haven’t had time to really go through your emotions.

“You like me…” You finally look at him, brows furrowed as you navigate through your thoughts.

“I do.”

“And I like Steven…” He frowns at that but nods. You both know it, that’s how you ended up here in the first place. “..And Steven likes Layla, but you’re still…married?”

He sighs, “It’s been over for months, sweetheart.”

“Well, aren’t we a group of lovers?” You joke.

Neither one of you laughs.

Deep brown eyes meet yours, “I meant what I said. Steven is blind if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“I-I don’t know where to go from here.”

He places his hand on top of yours. And you let him.

“Stay…” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, didn’t mean to say anything at all, but when he’s with you, he feels out of control.

He sees the little furrow of your brows as you digest the implications of his suggestion. Stay and forget about the consequences. Stay and pretend it's just us. Stay and let me love you.

“Marc –”

He interrupts you before you can finish your thought.

“For tonight.” He just isn’t sure he’d be able to take what you were about to say. If you could stay like this, even for one more night, just you and him and the memory of that embrace, he thinks, maybe he’ll be okay. Even if you leave him in the morning. Even if you run away from what could have been. “It’ll be easier to understand after a night of rest.”

You stare solemnly at the edge of the couch, “Yeah.” For a moment he holds some hope that he’ll be able to hold you tonight and sleep like everything is right in the world. But then you gently slip your hand out from under his. “I should probably go though.” His palm burns. You push yourself off the couch in search of your discarded jacket and shoes.

“You can crash here,” He feels desperate. You’re slipping from his hands and he’s frantically grasping at the evading warmth. “It’s late and there’s more than enough space in this flat.” He wants to reach out again but he’s afraid you’ll reject his touch this time.

“Steven has work tomorrow morning.” You say sheepishly as you slip an arm into your jacket. Of course, you’d know Steven’s schedule. “He needs to wake up early…and it would be awkward to find me on the couch.” As if he’d let you sleep anywhere but in his arms.

“Ok, but I should walk you home.”

You tug at the bottom of your coat, flattening it onto your body. “It’s fine,” You look back at him, hovering by the door, “Really, I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss how you’ve switched from talking about the situation to yourself.

He murmurs your name, not knowing what he can say to make you stay.

“Marc.” You echo back, voice soft and – tired. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

—

“Whot was that?”

Steven didn’t wake up for work the next day. In fact, he didn’t ‘wake up’ at all. Marc did. He woke up around 1 pm with a throbbing headache and a loud, berating British man yelling at him from the inside out.

After you left, he sat there in silence and moped, hoping you’d stop in the middle of your commute home and realize you wanted to come back to him. You didn’t. Once he received the ‘got home safe.’ text from you, he decided to drink whatever was left in the fridge before passing out. He’s regretting it now.

“Steven, please.” He presses a hand over his forehead, trying to soothe the ache as he blearily stares at the mess of empty bottles from last night. “Not right now.”

“Not right now?! You snogged my best friend!”

“Oh, come on.” Marc tugs on a shirt before making his way to the bathroom. In the small cheap mirror, Steven stares right back at him, a disgruntled glare burning right into his skin, “You weren’t going to do it.” That makes him blush.

“If–If I had known…”

Marc tries to ignore him, splashing some cool water on his face to wake himself up. How can Steven even complain about it when – “Wait – how did you even find out?”

“I saw her…” He says uneasily, “pulling away.”

Marc groans into the towel as he dries off, “You were there? How much did you see?”

“It’s not like I planned for it! I’m not a perve or anything, I was just…pushed to the front all of a sudden!” Shit, he must’ve gotten too excited. “I tried to leave as soon as I got there.”

“For the record, I wasn’t planning on any of that happening either.”

“Why would you do it then? You’re going to confuse her.”

“Confuse her? Steven,” He shakes his head, “She’s obviously in love with you and you still wave whatever weird relationship you have with my wife in her face.”

“Well, hold on a minute–”

“Go back to sleep, Steven.” Marc walks over to the couch, longingly staring at the spot he was in last night. “I gotta clean up.”

–

Your POV

Your hands nervously fiddle with your phone, opening, closing, and reopening your messaging app. You stare at the text you sent last night:

‘got home safe.’

You actually got home 15 minutes before sending the text, but he doesn’t need to know it took you that long to type out 3 words. It’s crazy, you tell yourself, how many texts you drafted, edited, and deleted before hitting send. What if he doesn’t want to hear from you again? What if Steven gets it instead of him? What if he thinks you’re being clingy just because you shared one kiss? One, blissful, enamoring, show-stopping, kiss?

He hasn’t answered it yet.

Read 1:56 am

Which is fine. You’re fine. It’s only 3 pm and Steven is probably still at work, so he hasn’t had a chance to text you back. It’s fine.

You hate the way your heart skips a beat when a typing bubble comes up. Fuck, did he see your pathetic attempts to text him earlier? You quickly exit the app, not wanting to expose yourself if he sends the text and you immediately ‘read’ it. The phone vibrates abruptly in your hand as a banner drops from the top of your screen.

‘Hey 🤠! –’ Already from the emoji use you can tell it’s Steven, ‘–Wanna meet up for tea ~4:30? Let’s go t…’

You let out a sigh. You know you shouldn’t feel disappointed. Steven is your best friend and you love hanging out with him, but there’s this anticipating giddiness when you think about Marc. The feeling you used to have about Steven…

It’s crazy how one kiss can flip your life so completely. Not just that, but how fast you went from mourning the chance of one relationship to melting into the development of another.

You open up the conversation. You really should talk to him.

‘okay 🫡 i’ll meet you there'

---

a/n: sorry this took so long (literal months). i had half of this written for a while and was so sure i'd get it done within a few weeks, but then I let it sit in my drive until I picked it up TODAY and finished it lmao.

so most of this chapter delves into marc's thoughts before and during what happened in the first part, some of steven's thoughts + the aftermath of the kiss. i know a lot of ppl wanted a confrontation between the reader and steven, but I didn't want to rush into it when we don't even know how marc really feels ab the reader :3

i thought it would be interesting if steven found out about the kiss through marc (and I also didn't know how to write out the reader admitting it to him) bc that's how marc found out ab steven breaking the readers heart. i also wanted to explore how the reader is grappling with her feelings towards the two guys!

i def want to write more, but I can't promise when the next part will be out. I'm a notoriously inconsistent and SLOW writer, so bare with me. thank you for all the support on my angsty journey and I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #angst #steven grant x layla el faouly

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thesecretwriter · 5 months

Text

how each moon boy would react to an argument with you (sfw) – part 1.

summary: what the title says!

warning: angsty angst.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: I’m feeling angsty lately, so here you gooo! ALSO, there’s more context to the situation of these headcanons, but they’ll be revealed in part 2. So don’t go hating on the moon boys just yet.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 2

Steven Grant:

“Are you really gonna bring this up now?”

His tone had you looking at him as if he grew another head.

“When else would be a good time to bring this up, hmm? Because I think now is the most appropriate time,”

Steven rolled his eyes as he took off his jacket and sat on the couch facing you.

He had come home from significantly late with no explanation. You found out through social media that he went to an event celebrating Layla without informing you.

“Its late and I’m tired,” he said as he rubbed his face and sighed heavily.

Oh, he is tired?

“You don’t think I’m tired? I understand you have a past with Layla, but the way you go about doing things is exhausting me. All you ever do is talk about her. Everything is Layla this and Layla that,”

You explain to him out of frustration.

“She was right about you,” he says with a hint of sass.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“I mean that maybe Layla was right about you being controlling. Why do you think I never told you where I’m going. You would’ve tagged along and dampened the mood.

Wow, wow. So, Layla and he talk about you.

“I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. If you have an issue with the way I am then you should address it to me. Not go and talk to your EX-WIFE about it,” your voice had increased towards the end as you glared at him.

“Its not my problem if you’re insecure,” he said with a shrug.

Each word from him added more cracks to your already breaking heart.

You shook your head at him wordlessly and began to look for your bag and jacket around his apartment.

He sat upright on the couch and watched you with confused furrowed brows.

“What’re you doing?”

Once you gathered your things, you walked towards the door with him now trailing behind you.

“I asked you a question,” he said firmer.

You looked at him with unshed tears and saw his expression soften.

“Leaving,” was all you said before unlocking the door and walking away from him.

Steven cursed under his breath and walked after you.

“Y/n, its late. Stop being ridiculous,”

That ticked your off even further. You abruptly turn around to face him.

“I don’t expect you to be concerned about me anymore. Go ahead and worry about your precious Layla and her thoughts on our relationship,”

You left him standing their speechless as you exited his apartment building. Steven was left feeling an ache in his chest and the weight of his actions and words.

Marc Spector:

“Look at the state of you,”

Were the first words Marc heard upon returning to the apartment. He had been gone for days and you had no way of contacting him.

“Y/n, please. I just want silence,” he said tiredly and sat lethargically on the bed.

“You can’t expect me to not be panicked when you come home with a gunshot wound. Did you even go to a hospital?” you ask in disbelief.

“I can take care of these things on my own,” he groaned and moved to face you.

“Marc, I can’t keep seeing you like this,” you admit to him.

Each time he left that door you would say a silent prayer to ensure he would come back to you.

“You knew what this relationship was going to be like-“

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to be coming home like this,” you motion to his form.

Marc was growing annoyed.

“This is my life y/n, what do you want me to do?”

Your eyes searched his tired ones as he spoke.

“Exactly Marc, this is your life. I want you to take care of it,”

He scoffed at your words.

“I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life,” he said bitterly.

“That’s not what I’m-“

“Save it, okay? I already deal with enough when it comes to Khonshu. I don’t want to deal with you as well,”

“Deal with me? What? Marc, what have I ever done to make you feel like this? Me being worried about whether your alive or not upsets you?” you asked a string of questions as endless thoughts ran through your mind.

“Just go,” is all he said as he turned his back to you and laid on the bed.

You watch his form, waiting for him to take back his words, apologise… do something – but he just lays there.

You nod to yourself and gather your belongings to leave. It was well into the night and significantly late, but you did as he said and walked out that front door.

He laid in bed with his thoughts, thinking whether pushing you away was the right choice.

Jake Lockley:

You walked into the bar to see him stood rather close to an unknown woman.

With anger running through your veins, you walk up to him and see his eyes slightly widen when he sees your approaching him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked with a monotone.

“I’ve been waiting for you at home for the passed 3 hours,” you said as calmly as you could.

The woman standing close to him looked surprised at your words but made no move to walk away from the obvious situation.

“You should’ve kept waiting,” he said uninterested as he took a sip from his drink.

You watch him with narrowed eyes as he looked back to you.

“Is this how its going to be? You’re going to act like a total stranger in public and my boyfriend in private?” you asked feeling hurt.

He hummed at your words and sat up straight in his seat at the bar.

“You’re clingy,” was all he said, knowing that those words would hit you harder than anything else.

Throughout your life, you always had someone to be around. Your parents, siblings, friends and now in a foreign country you found solace with Jake spent every waking moment with him when you could. It was normal for you, and he didn’t seem to mind it.

“Clingy?” you asked as you choked back tears.

Jake clenched his jaw slightly before relaxing and putting his arm around the shoulders of the woman next to him.

“You heard me,” he said with a chuckle.

You took in a deep breath to compose yourself. Clearly you were not wanted nor needed here.

“Okay, if that’s what you think. You can have all the space you want from now on,” you said and turned to walk away.

“Is she actually you girlfriend?” asked the unnamed woman.

“One of many, hermosa,” he said under his breath.

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hsllfirescoopsreblogs · 11 days

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ.

「 ✦ moon knight boys ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all moon knight boys stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

┌──────────────────┐

MASTERLIST ✩ OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS ✩ 4/25/24

★ @mgparker

☼ comeback to me

☾Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

☼ should’ve listened

☾ your tendency to put your loved ones above you puts you in what would’ve been a deadly situation, had you not been an avatar of the goddess of the sun.

★ @starryevermore

☼ more hearts than mine

☾ marc and jake have made it clear that they don’t like you. but your heart is not the only one being broken by their actions and the consequences that follow.

☼ not what he thinks pt2

☾ steven overhears something, but he doesn’t understand what he heard.

★ @spacecowboyhotch

☼ proper date

☾ steven gains some knowledge about how he and reader met…and some about himself.

☼ the honey girl

☾ sometimes the meddling of old men pays off.

☼ unlikely

☾ a look into how marc and reader met.

★ @moonlight-prose

☼ kiss me once

☾ dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.

★ @loud-mouth-loser

☼ not him

☾ you’ve been steven’s best friend for a while and have had a crush on him as long as you’ve known him. unfortunately, his eyes are on layla, his alter’s wife. let's just say, you’re not the only one put off by this. this is a story of how you and marc bond over your sorrows

★ @sarahghetti

☼ can you pretend to be my boyfriend

☾ the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

☼ direction to perfection

☾ one day, your vigilante lifestyle leads to you to crossing paths with a moon-serving weirdo in white bandages. jake promises that he won't get in the way, but there's something about his smirk that has your spidey-sense tingling, and what do you know—

★ @popquizhot-shot

☼ magic

☾ you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

★ @runa-falls

☼ reciprocation2 pt 3

☼ request

★ @soft-girl-musings

☼ salt and pepper

☾ Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

☼ stranger danger

☾ There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)

★ @romanarose

☼ misunderstanding

☾ When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.

★ @primosworld

☼ blueberry pancakes

☾ You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.

★ @projectionistwrites

☼ imploding the mirage

☾ You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

★ @heartthrobin

☼ press your tulips to mine

☾ Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

☼ my bleeding dream, my shadow in the light

☾ you were convinced, no: you were sure, that Jake Lockley couldn't stand the sight of you. then why was he consistently banging at your door in the middle of the night, dripping in blood and begging to be stitched up?

★ @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

☼ what you like

☾ Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

☼ embrace

☾ The reader is dating them but is kind of scared of Jake (is very quiet and weary around him, doesn't like his physical touch) because he was cold and mean to her when they first met (he wanted to "protect" Steven) but now all he wants is to hold and love her. The opportunity finally arrives when she's sick and needs his help. (He forcefully fronts bc he's not letting this opportunity go to waste)

★ @bibli0thecary

☼ in the stars

☾ steven finds it hard to believe that you’re gone, while marc is forced to live with endless regret, and jake continues to blame himself for everything.

☼ no one can hurt you

☾ they would never bring you into the face of danger, but what if danger comes preying on you?

★ @ichorai

☼ dlz

☾ jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

☼ love dog

☾ your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him

★ @foli-vora

☼ there’s always tomorrow

☾ Steven needed a wingman. Or maybe he already had one, he just didn’t know it.

★ @petertingle-yipyip

☼ so long london

☾ Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love..

★ @peterman-spideyparker

☼ celebrate

☾ The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

★ @freelancearsonist

☼ wingman

☼ oh, bollocks

☾ reader is a teacher, au where steven got promoted to tour guide and is living his Best Life, lots of fluff and pining

★ @pulchritudinousrogers

☼ missed date

☾ Set before the events of Moon Knight, you work in the museum like Steven and have been crushing on each other for a while but neither of you have even approached each other. Marc steps in to help Steven out, but things don’t go well.

★ @marc-spectorr

☼ the morning after

☾ as steven watches you sleep, he starts to wonder whether you deserve to be with a man as broken as he is.

★ @foreverinadais

☼ the break up

☾ in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date.

★ @howaboutcastiel

☼ not my intention

☾ They notice she gets anxious and startled very easily, but when they bring it up she always brushes them off so they don't pry. They don’t know she's previously been in an abusive relationship. And maybe they're at an office party and some guy comes to her when she's alone and the boys get jealous since it's obvious he's trying to flirt with their girl.

★ @pinchofhoney

☼ just one word

☾ You may not be aware of their existence having only met Steven, but no Marc Spector alter will let anything happen to you.

★ @marvelsswansong

☼ clumsy

☾ you're extremely clumsy. Steven worries. Marc finds it amusing. Jake gets protective. But they all love you for it nonetheless.

★ @astroboots and @thirstworldproblemss

☼ red flags

☾ Sweet as he is, dating Steven means you have to be willing to ignore a few red flags along the way.

★ @grantspectortrash

☼ suited and booted pt2 pt3

☾ you live across the hall from Steven. For whatever reason, he has to use your shower before going to a work event. You get the pleasure of seeing him in a suit.

★ @mknightgrant

☼ silence

☾ You should’ve stopped asking questions.

★ @mkfluffluv

☼ a future without you

☾ marc lost you to the snap and after 5 years of dealing with his grief by maiming people, he finally gets you back.

☼ keep the secret?

☾ marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who’s willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it’s jake.)

☼ taste like apple juice and peace

☾ for a long time steven had thought his feelings had gone unnoticed. but he was wrong.

★ @little-worm-grant

☼ uncomplicated

☾ Deep down you knew Jake wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t think he needed you. Or maybe that’s what you told yourself to make it more tolerable to be out of your warm bed at this hour.

★ @mccn-bcys

☼ just a touch of your hand pt2 pt3

☾ when you turn eighteen, an ink stain appears on your skin wherever your soulmate touches you for the first time. the boys each are dealing with their stain in their own way.

★ @missdictatorme

☼ open my eyes

☾ Jake and Steven were more than happy when you agreed to be in a relationship with them, but Marc barely fronts when you're near. Will he warm up to you over time?

☼ third ones the charm pt2

☾ Jake Lockley was fine. Really. Marc and Steven are happy with their girlfriend and he's okay staying in the shadows. He's used to staying in the shadows. He managed to stay hidden from the boys for years, but lately something makes him take control more and more. Or rather, someone makes him take control more and more.

☼ the thin line

☾ Steven and Marc are literally glowing with happiness since they were in a relationship with you. Jake is mostly annoyed and is constantly trying to make you leave. Marc and Steven are having none of it.

★ @wysteria-clad

☼ our little thing

☾ you have a specific thing with each of them. It's not like you don't do it with other two, but you do enjoy a little act of intimacy that is special to each of them.

★ @m00nsbaby

☼ the already over

☼ weightless

☾ The feeling of being trapped goes beyond the ankle bracelet that keeps him tied to the bed.

★ @bruhstories

☼ canonic jar

☾ marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.

★ @oswildin

☼ good day

☾ You and Steven work at the museum together, little did he know you had a crush on the man. After getting yourself into trouble, you and Steven are both punished with an evening in inventory.

☼ take on me pt2

☾ You end up on an accidental date with Steven, but it ends up being the best date you could’ve asked for. It leads into more, but things aren’t as simple as they appear. With adoration strong for the man, you take a chance on him.

★ @eyelessfaces

☼ formal wear

★ @bensolosbluesaber

☼ the jake problem pt2

☾ Jake hates you. Like really hates you, which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t dating Steven and Marc. But maybe, just maybe, Jake doesn’t hate you

★ @starryeyedstories

☼ talk deity to me

☾ You’re an Egyptologist invited to the museum to give a talk to a group of school kids, and Steven might have a bit of a crush on you.

★ @juneknight

☼ dozing

★ @januaryembrs

☼ i should have been there

☾ Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

★ @so-easy-to-love-me <3

☼ mirrors pt2

☾ When things heat up between you and your roommate after you return home a bit tipsy, you learn that there´s more to Steven Grant than meets the eye.

★ @redeyerhaenyra

☼ sleeping beauty

☾ After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven

★ @writefightandflightclub

☼ shadow of a doubt

☾ marc was first. steven was second. khonshu’s never going to love you. …and you’re wondering if jake will ever get there at all.

★ @bits-and-babs

☼ chocolate

☾ After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.

☼ bumpy ride

☾ The handsome man who you see on your commute to work every day is always on your mind.

★ @spctrsgf

☼ cake

★ @thatsthewrongwallcraig

☼ a night at the museum

☾ After asking you out, Steven invites you to a private tour of the National Art Gallery.

★ @thatredheadwriter

☼ on the mat

☼ mine

☾ The suit, the suit is amazing. Honestly it is. But you can’t help but be the slightest bit annoyed when it erases the marks you leave all over him. Lucky for you, Steven’s more than happy to let you have another go.

☼ outnumbered

☾ You’re Layla’s adoptive sister, and Marc’s former lover. Being reunited with both of them stirs up some old feelings, but that gets pushed to the backburner when you’re severely injured during a fight. But things tend to boil over when they’re left too long, so what happens when you have some time alone with Marc.

★ @ivystoryweaver

☼ spectre series

☾ Marc Spector and his alters Steven and Jake have lost the love of their lives. They each try to move on, in their own way, but getting over you is the hardest thing they've ever faced. Marc starts to see you everywhere - he's haunted by your memory. No, literally, why are you sitting on the end of his bed? He believes in ancient deities, seeing how Jake still serves one as Moon Knight. But ghosts?

★ @storiesforallfandoms

☼ how things are now

☾ now that they’ve learned how to share the body, they must come to terms with the fact that they also have to share their wife

★ @laaundromat

☼ building love

☾ Steven has unconsciously set himself up on a date with his crush.

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

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