#marc spector sick fic

[romanarose]

His Comforting Touch

Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are on your period. This is the kind of thing Steven usually handles, but Marc was to prove to himself he can take care of you, be there for more than just great sex. Of course, he is really good at sex, and that might be what you need this time.

Warnings: Period stuff, lots of blood, *suffering*, all of this on period; fingering, oral, anal fingering (maybe I have an anal fixation idk what to tell you I love butt stuff), coming in pants (my fav)

A/N: just started my period. Was at work, used the bathroom, caught the literal first few drops before it even touched my underwear. that was the good news. The bad news was I didn't have anything other than one (1) tampon and was already having a bad day. Other good news is what I love about people who get periods is they will give anyone a tampon if they can. I made it.

A/N 2: This is from a chapter from my series Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside. I wanted to edit this chapter down to make it just a one shot. If you find the dynamics interesting, maybe check out the series but oh my god heed the warnings. Darker stuff. Anyway, if you are currently reading or plan to read Sunshine, don't skip over this chapter when you come to it. There is a LOT I edited out to make sense in a one shot. The actual chapter has a whole other smut scene in the bathtub and a very important argument. Also, the series has an OC, not a reader, so I changed all the names and pronouns to second person, so if I missed a "her" or a "Sam", just ignore that lol. Enjoy!

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

My Love <3: I’m hemorrhaging

Marc about spit out his coffee. Logically, he knew that if you were actually hemorrhaging, you wouldn’t be texting him. It didn’t help the panic.

Steven with a V: ?!?!?!?!-M

My Love <3: Hi Marcy Marc! Hope I didn’t scare you.

Steven with a V: Why are you hemorrhaging?-M

You were used to texting Steven. Steven knew what ‘I’m hemorrhaging’ meant. As much as you loved Marc, and as much as the two of you have done some of the most filthy, disgusting things two humans in love can do to each other, somehow you couldn’t manage to be straightforward with Marc that you were on your period. You knew it wasn’t fair to put stereotypes on him, but Marc was Marc. He shoots guns and gets in fights, and was a marine… Steven bought you tampons and pads just to keep at his place in case of emergency, you hadn’t even asked for that. You had expected Steven to answer.

Steven with a V: OH! I see. Sorry, Steven’s resting for the evening.-M

Steven with a V: Are you okay?-M

You didn’t realize how much she’d been just… thinking

My Love <3: Sorry,  got distracted. And don’t be sorry Steven’s out, I’m always happy to hear from you, Starlight.

Steven with a V: Do you need anything? I can get you some snacks or bring you Motrin?

My Love <3: No I’m good, thank you baby. I just wanted to complain.

Marc knew this was better as Steven’s department. Everything was Steven’s department. Steven cooked for you, took you on romantic, thoughtful dates. Steven knew what words to say and when to say none. When to hold you and when to fuck you. Marc really had thought maybe, just maybe, that would be his department. But Steven was good at that too. Steven didn’t need to do what Marc did to get you to cum multiple times a night, he could draw orgasm after orgasm from you with his mouth. Marc wasn’t sure if he remembered how to have sex without the slapping and the choking. He’d never say it, but the night you finally got together, he was terrified from multiple angles. The sex and the domesticity. The fact he said he loved you, that you said you wanted to be with him. It was against all his instincts to do this, to be domestic. That, again, Steven’s department. It had not gone well with Layla.

My Love <3: Did you have a good day honey?

You were changing the subject because you knew he was uncomfortable.You knew he couldn’t be what you needed. He needed to change something. He didn’t want to ruin what he had with you like he had with Layla. Marc briefly thought he should talk to Steven about this, Steven would be gung-ho for a heart to heart. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t drag Steven into his shit. Again. No, he knew what he had to do. He could make a start with you.

Steven with a V: Can I come over in a bit?-M

My Love <3: I would love that!

What would Steven do, what would Steven do

What would I do for what? He mumbled in the headspace, waking up. 

Go back to bed, I got it.

Come on mate, let me help. What’s going on

She’s on her period, I want to help but really, I want to do this myself… I gotta prove it to myself that I can. 

Okay, but wake me up if you need me

Will do, buddy

And Marc?

Yeah?

I think you’re really sweet

Shut up.

Marc walked around the store. Okay, what do girls like? Chocolate? Yeah, girls like chocolate on their period. Is that a stereotype? Layla never let him do much besides cook and clean when she was out of commission. Maybe he could do that. You always complained how messy your place was. Marc didn’t think it was actually dirty, just disorganized. You just had so much stuff. You liked memories. Yeah, he could help organize. He could also cook, not well but he could do it. You cooked Steven breakfast, Steven cooked you dinner. Marc looks at his watch. Okay, it’s 4. Plenty of time to get things and cook.

Marc got groceries for matzo ball soup, that used to make him feel better when he was a kid. Even after his mom stopped making Shabbat dinner, or any food in general, his dad was too busy to make anything most days. Marc was left to fend for himself. TV dinners, Kraft Mac and Cheese, chef boyardee… But one thing he could count on is if he was sick, his dad got him Matzo ball soup from the deli. If there was a game on (which there usually would be in Chicago) his dad would actually leave the office in their attic and come watch with him. Sometimes, if there was an important game on, Marc would pretend to be sick just to get his dad to watch with him. 

Marc picked up some chocolate cake. Just in case.

He knocked, but there was no answer, so Marc let himself in with their spare key. He took a look around your little studio. You were dead asleep. He set down the groceries and put them away, washed the dishes and cleared away the trash. He took out the trash and the pizza boxes on the floor, making sure to change the bathroom trash as well. You stayed asleep. He frowned, you must really be out of it. He continued picking up the living room throwing away your twisted tea cans and the take out by your bedside that must’ve been lunch. Marc began cooking, when he dropped the pot and you still didn't wake he got worried. He set the almost-finished project on the stove to heat and went over to your bedside, couldn’t tell if you were breathing or not, and started to panic. There was no logical reason to think you were anything other than in a deep sleep, but he couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.

“Hey honey, you okay?” He attempted to stir you with shaky hands.

You eyes shot open with a gasp, and before either of them had a chance to think or move, you shouted.

“Marc!” You gasped for breath, sitting up and grasping your chest. “Oh my god, Marc, shit you scared me!”

“I’m sorry!” All he wanted to do was treat you special, and he managed to scare the fuck out of you.

“No, it’s okay, baby” You took a few beats before looking down. “Fuck.”

Marc followed your line of sight, there was blood leaking on the front of your light blue leggings. “I’ll get you clean pants, baby.” Marc scrambled up, walking to your dresser while you went to the bathroom. “Sweats or leggings, honey?”

“Sweats please, and new underwear. The ugly ones in the back.” You called out. Marc brought it over, knocking on the door. 

You only opened the door enough to grab the clothing, but left the door cracked so you could keep talking. “This is the second pair of pants today. I got it at work, it was early. My friend had a spare change of clothes.” You peaked your head out, grinning. “Always gotta have spare clothes in childcare, but my last spare got puke on them on monday.” You tucked back away, digging for items below the sink. “It’s fucking heavy this time, shit fucking hurts. Elena stayed late so I could come home, my stomach hurt so bad.” You were rambling. “I feel like I’m bleeding out, tampons- fuck sorry, this is probably TMI”

Marc made himself comfortable on the floor sitting against the wall. “Honey, not to be too graphic but I’ve seen blood in plenty of other circumstances, and I’ve been married” Marc winced at mentioning Layla, this is why Steven was better at this. You knew, of course, that he had been married, but you never talked about it. Occasionally, Layla would call and Steven or Marc would talk to her, but it wasn’t often. He soldiered on. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Right, right” You sounded like you were convincing yourself. “Well, the tampons seem to bleed out every half hour or an hour. I didn’t think there was this much blood in a person.” The unmistakable sound of a pad opening.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Although this wasn’t his first rodeo, he still wasn’t sure how much was normal.

“Not unless it continues for a few days. This is probably just a heavy flow.” 

Marc couldn’t help but worry, it was who he was as a person. There was the sound of thorough hand washing, then you opened the door, smiling lovingly at the sight of him looking at you wide-eyed from the floor. “I made you soup.”

You ate a hearty portion, showering Marc with “MMHHHMM” and “Oh my GOD baby this is fucking good.” The sounds were barely distinguishable from the sounds you made during sex, maybe just a little more dramatic. 

“Fuck, Marc, that was so good. Good soup” she mimicked the tik tok audio. Marc noticed you wincing and holding your stomach. He pulled you over his lap and rubbed your tummy for you. After an episode, you got up to change your tampon again, and Marc heard her groaning from the bathroom. “Brightside? You okay?” 

“Yeah, I opted for just the giant pad, Im sick of the fucking tampon.” You  replied through gritted teeth. When you came out, you took more pain medicine and crawled back up into Marc’s arms. “This shit ain’t helping, I need fucking morphine. AH!” a burst of pain shot through you. You whimpered, hiding your face in his chest. “Starlight, it hurts.” You whined, knowing damn well he couldn’t do anything about it.

Marc considered for a moment. “Listen, I have an idea… It might help your cramps.” You looked at him suspiciously. “Ever had an orgasm during your period?”

You sat up, sickened but intrigued. “You want to have sex with me when I’m oozzing blood?”

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be sex, it would just be me, giving you an orgasm.” You were… tearing up? “Or not! Whatever you need, Brightside…”

Your lip quivered, “You want to touch me when I’m this gross?” Youstarted crying, oh shit.

“Oh baby” Marc took you in for a hug. “You aren’t gross, and I always want to touch you” He held you close, cradling your head with his hand entangled in your hair. You mumbled something he couldn’t hear. “What was that sweetie?”

You lifted your head up, still crying a little “I’m so fucking horny.”

Marc couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “Stay here.” Marc stood up, still grinning to himself, and laid down a towel on your bed, then scooped you up from the couch. You felt his strong arms and his chest, flexing to carry you. He laid you down, took off your sweats, and leaned in to kiss you lovingly. 

He walked around to the end of your bed, carefully pulling down her underwear and bloody pad and setting it carefully with your sweatpants “Tell me if anything hurts. You’re probably going to be sensitive, but it shouldn’t be painful.” He slowly started working on your clit, attempting to relax her before anything else.

“Marc, I can clean up-” You start, feeling embarrassed about the blood on your legs and vulva.

“Aht!” He chastised. “Relax. Again, this ain't my first rodeo.” He fought his biological reaction to get hard.

Slowly, he inserted a single finger in you, working it in and out while your swollen and sensitive pussy adjusted to him. “Ready for another?” He was fully hard, despite his best efforts, and tried adjusting his pants but the friction only made the problem worse.

You nodded, gasping as he filled you, curling his fingers up to hit that sweet spot deep inside. Marc was knelt in front of her, sitting upright, watching his fingers disappear inside you, coming out covered in your blood. “Such a good girl…” He muttered lowly, the mix of blood and slick swirling on his hand. He could feel your walls tightening around him, but he knew you’d need extra help to get over the edge. For now, however, he was taking it slow, giving you time, building you up. He laid down next to you, resting on one arm that played with your hair and stroking your pretty face, while his right hand fucked you. Marc peppered you with open mouth kisses, your tongues dancing together, your mouth chasing him when he pulled away to kiss down your neck, licking up your chin and back to her mouth again. You played with his dark, thick curls, kissing that sensitive spot under his jaw. He took deep breaths, trying to cool himself off. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to touch him, but Christ, he was aching for you. You laid like this for what seemed like forever, touching and kissing so innocently, but his fingers were inside you. When he pulled away, you pouted. 

He kissed over your clothes until he got to your pelvis. 

“Marc-” You hesitate, embarrassed by the idea of Marc’s mouth on your bloody cunt.

“Don’t even start, pretty girl” Without giving you another chance to be embarrassed, he began sucking on your clit. Marc couldn’t help it, he began moving against the bed to stimulate his cock.

“Oh fuck, that’s good…” You tugged on his hair, pulling him closer. He  takes his fingers out, painting part of your thigh as he grips you, his mouth going further down. When you sat up to watch him devouring you, he looked up at you, grinning, lip curling up the way it did only when he was really, truly happy. You knew you shouldn’t be so thrilled to see him covered in blood… but you were.

“Whatcha think’n, Brightside?” 

Her heart flutters and you swallow. “Um… that you look really good like that…” You look at him, awestruck as he went back to finger fucking you, but never broke eye contact.

“You like when I’m covered in you, baby?”

You nod.

“Or, do I just remind you of Edward Cullen right now?” He teased.

Your jaw dropped, but a small smile crept up on your lips, even while panting under his touch. “I can explain!”

He gave your messy cunt a kiss, still smiling at you. “It’s okay, baby, I can work past that” He winks, going back to work, before stopping and popping up again, with a mischievous grin. You felt his slicked up fingers slip between you and the towel on the mattress, making you shiver as he grazed over your hole. “Can I have your ass? It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I thought it might help…” Marc gave you a look he hoped communicated that it was completely up to you.

You considered for a moment, but nodded, smiling. “I trust you, baby.”

He kept working your clit as he grinned back, lip curling up again and showing off his adorable teeth, white in the sea of red on his mouth. “Yeah?” He whispered softly, the words magic to him. He promised you safety, and you gifted him you trust. He stopped fighting it, Marc began humping against the bed. The whole scene was so perfect, he couldn’t deny himself anymore. It was messy, it was filthy and it went against what most people might consider normal, but right here, right now? The room was filled with nothing but love, sexuality, trust, caring. How could something like this be dirty? How could this ever be wrong? “You trust me?”

Your hips bucked up, riding the waves of pleasure he gave you. “Inexplicitly, Starlight.”

Marc wanted to kiss you, but that might be a bit of a line she wasn’t prepared for. His mouth went to your clit, left hand began fingering you. Slowly, carefully, he slides a finger up in your ass. “Relax honey.” he coaxes, and you do just that.

You suddenly felt so full, the new sensation sending shivers up your spine. “Fuuuuuck Marc” You threw her head and arched your back.

He smiled as he continued licking and sucking “You like that baby?” Marc rutted into the bed, fuck, he could come just like this. He just might.

All you could do was whimper and nod.

“You like when I touch you like this? You like when I’m in multiple holes?” He fucked his fingers into you, as far as he could reach.

It became apparent that Marc was working himself against the bed, and the idea that he was turned on just from giving her pleasure? That just brought her closer. “Fuck, Marc, mmm fu-ah!, no ones ever touched me like this” 

Marc had assumed as much, he knew that before Steven, most of the men essentially used your body to masterbate. But this was for you, to help you. And you really liked it. He knew you were close, but getting there wasn’t the issue. It was the spilling over, the climax. You were writhing, yanking at the sheets that had been pulled off the corner of the bed. The towel beneath her had bunched up, barely doing it’s job anymore but Marc wasn’t going to stop, not when you were so close.

Marc sat up on his knees, trying his best to keep some sort of friction in his pants. He continued working you with his left hand; two fingers in you vagina, his pinky in her ass. You were perfect, enwrapped in pleasure before him. Drawing back his hand, he spat on your pretty little cunt and gave it a slap.

And there it was.

“Marc!” You shout, the last words you said before you became incomprehensible, a babbling mess. You tried to say something, but what? You  didn’t know. You felt the tension in her uterus ease as you came down from you high and noticed Marc coming back from the bathroom, kneeling at you side. 

“Hey Brightside, how you feeling?” He brushed you hair back from your sweaty face.

“M-much better. Kiss me?” She looked angelic.

How could he refuse? He kissed you, and you realize his face was washed of your blood. You wouldn’t have cared. “I drew you a hot bath, does that sound good?” 

You nodded, beaming softly at him “Join me?”

He kissed your forehead “If you’ll have me.” Marc spoke as softly as you thought he ever could.

“Forever and always, baby”

He gently held her throat as he kissed her. “Let me get cleaned up first.”

You frowned at him, confused. That was the point of the bath. He was about to bathe in water that would have your blood and cum- oh. Pushing him back, you look at his pants, there was a wet spot in his dark jeans. When you looked up at him, it was your turn to sport his signature shit-eating grin. “Fuck Marc, that’s hot.”

“Come on, baby” He smiled softly at you as he took her hand and led you to the bathroom, the tub steaming and full of Epsom salt in the boiling water. Just how you liked it. He’d have carried you if his legs didn’t feel so shaky from his orgasm. “Let’s get you properly naked.”

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I hope you liked it! Tagging a few people I know haven't read sunshine/ this chapter (literally no pressure to read it I know it's long as fuck)

@jake-g-lockley @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @in-between-the-cafes @welcometostayingawake @lucianadraven32

[spctrsgf]

sick

summary: being sick is never much fun, but it’s even worse when your boyfriends are nowhere to be seen.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: throwing up, basically just fluff otherwise

You were sick. You were the energy draining, skull splitting type of sick. You hadn’t slept more than about an hour at one time, and you had basically lived in the bathroom for the past two days. Wonderful.

What made matters worse is that no one had come to check up on you. Not Steven, who fluttered around you, not Marc, who hovered as if he couldn’t last a second without you, not Jake, who knew what was happening even before you did. You knew they had reasons to not be floating around you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt when they didn’t react to you being gone from your normal spot in the living room.

Right about now, you would be getting off of work, shooting whoever was fronting— today it was normally Marc— a text telling them you’d be home soon. He’d meet you at the front door if he had a minute, but even if he didn’t or forgot, you would still greet each other after you made your way into the bedroom. You’d kick off your shoes and throw down your bag, flopping onto the bed next to Marc. You would sometimes peer over his shoulder at whatever was flashing on his computer screen. 

You were thrown harshly back into the present as you felt another wave of nausea coming on, turning and hurling more into the toilet bowl. “Why, universe,” you groaned. “Why.” 

Soon– and that’s putting it lightly– you were finally able to bring yourself up into shaky legs, crashing into the blankets with a sigh. You stared down at the recently emptied bucket beside you as you gloated, reasoning with yourself for the past forty-eight hours as to why the boys hadn’t come up. Yeah, you were still on that. It was usually ‘they know and they don’t want to get sick’, but you had run through ‘they hate you and don’t care’ more times than you’d like to admit. 

You slapped your hand across the wood of your bedside table until you found your phone. As you turned on the screen, you saw countless texts from none other than the very men that had been occupying your thoughts. As you scrolled through the texts, they mostly consisted of ‘Y/N!’, ‘hey what’s going on’, and a special appearance of ‘I’m sorry but I have a trip for the old bird. be back in a few days’. 

Groaning, you flopped your head back down onto your pillow, willing whatever stomach bug you had currently would just go away. You picked up your hand as you dialed their number, Marc picked up after the second ring. “Y/n! Y/n!” He screeched into the phone. “What happened?!? I called you like twenty times and I’ve sent like a thousand texts!” You cringed at the volume of his voice as it spiked a headache. “Marc, not so loud.” 

“Are you okay?” Concern lined his voice.

“I’ve definitely been better.”

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“I got some stupid stomach bug. I haven’t stopped throwing up in two days and I feel like shit. That’s why I haven’t called you back.” 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Will you be home soon?” You asked, hopeful.

He paused. “I don’t know?”

“You don’t know? Marc..”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. This is just really important.”

You scoffed, annoyed. “I get it. Good luck with it.”

“Y/n, don’t hang up! I’ll call you often, I promise.”

You nodded resentfully, still slightly pissed in your sick-addled mind. “Fine.”

“I love you.” He murmured.

“Love you too, you idiot.”

As you both hung up, you shot out of bed and back to your new home near the toilet. “Time for round one thousand.” You grumbled. 

━━ ✦ ━━

When Marc cruised into your shared flat a day later, he was met with an unreal sight. Normally, the room was in top shape, as you hated any sort of mess. But, the curtains were hastily drawn, quite a few of your outfits were thrown across the floor, the bed was unmade and disturbing sounds came from the bathroom. 

You were currently throwing up. Again. No surprise there. Marc was lucky in that he walked as soon as you were done. You threw up your hand haphazardly in greeting, unable to speak at the moment. Marc was still in his suit pants— which is confusing, now that you think about it—, but he bent down nonetheless to carefully pull back your hair into a ponytail. 

“I’m so sorry, sweets.” He cooed, leaning in to place a kiss on your head when you jerked away from him. “Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick too.” You chided with a hoarse voice. 

“Not doing better, huh?” He asked as he helped you up from the floor. 

“Eh. I woke up and could barely walk-“ you stumbled over your feet. “-as you can see.” 

With a smirk more characteristic to Jake, your boyfriend hooked his arms under your knees and carried you to the bed, bridal style. You squealed, choking out a laugh. 

“Have you taken any medicine?” He asked. You nodded. “Only the first day I was sick. I couldn’t muster enough energy to get to the kitchen after that.”

“I’m sorry that this is happening, hon. Tell you what. I’ll go grab a few things. Be back in ten.” He shot out of the room at a speed you previously thought was impossible. “I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point…” you mumbled as you sank further into the fluffy layers of comforting cotton.

━━ ✦ ━━

True to his word, Marc arrived exactly ten minutes later. You had counted. Nothing more interesting when you’re laying in bed. “I’m back!” Marc’s voice rang through the floor as he slid in. “Thank god.” You practically groaned as he made his way to you, plopping down on the bed and laying out all the items he’d acquired.

“Marc, go grab a mask.” You commanded, the sudden outburst surging spurring from the last ten minutes you’d spent hoping you wouldn’t get him sick. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?” 

“Because I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Y/n-“

“Now.”

“I don’t wanna-”

“Spector,” you growled. “I may be sick, but it will hurt no less when I attack you.” The said man deliberately got up and put on the mask as you smirked in victory. 

“There! Are you happy now?”

“Yes. See, that wasn’t that hard.”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that.” He muttered under his breath. 

“What?”

“Here,” Marc blatantly ignored your question and handed you aspirin and a glass of water. “Drink this.” You obliged, downing the drink. 

Marc placed a bowl of salad with your favorite toppings in front of you. “Lettuce helps clear out your system.” He clarified at your raised eyebrow. 

You shrugged and quickly went to eat the food. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Marc questioned your ferocity. 

“Substantially? Two days ago.” You jutted out between bites.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at him briefly while you chewed. 

“You need to eat!!”

“I was just gonna throw it up!”

“You still need to eat something! Or drink something! Did you drink anything?”

“Of course. I had water.”

Marc let out a sigh, running a hand down his face in frustration. “That’s good, at a minimum.” 

You mumbled a sorry and went back to munching. You watched from the bed as Marc fluttered around the room, cleaning. Cleaning. This was definitely not new, but your brain wasn’t processing things properly at the moment. “Marc,” he picked up his head and locked eyes with you. “You don’t have to do that.”

 “Just eat.” He ordered, waving you off.

━━ ✦ ━━

“And then I-“ you stopped mid sentence when you felt the all too familiar feeling brewing in your stomach. Marc took one look at your face and picked you up, making a beeline for the toilet. He pulled the strands that had fallen out of his loose ponytail as you hurled into the toilet. Tying your hair again, he rubbed your back comfortingly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’ll be over soon.” 

You felt the last things exit your stomach and you collapsed onto the toilet seat, exhausted. “Y/n?” Marc asked at your posture. “Mhm?” You couldn’t pull yourself up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tuckered out.”

“From?”

You glared at Marc. “Throwing up. Constantly. For the past two days. It takes a toll when you haven’t slept very much in that time.” 

“Or eaten anything!”

You sighed. “Or eaten anything.”

Marc shot you a half smile, even though you couldn’t see it through the fabric of his mask. You frowned quizzically as you took in the details of his mask, snickering nonetheless. “Of course you have a Khonsu mask.”

Marc chuckled, cheeks slightly flushed. “Yep.”

“Why, though? People barely wear those.” 

“Doctor people do!”

“Doctor people?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck off.”

You huffed. “You are so lucky I have no energy to tease you right now.” 

He grinned. “That I am.” 

━━ ✦ ━━

Before you knew it, you found yourself curled under Marc’s arm, all snuggled up and warm against him. “This is nice.” You hummed into his chest. He cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. We should cuddle more often.” 

“Maybe.”

“Marc,” you looked up at him. “Please.”

“I’ll try, y/n.”

You huffed in defeat. “Damn Khonsu.” 

“Hey! Be nice when you talk about him!”

You chuckled. “Whatever.”

He swatted you lightly. “Watch it, l/n. I can leave this bed anytime I want.” 

“No you can’t, Spector. I’m hella strong when it comes to this.”

“Wanna test it out?”

You smirked. “I guess.” 

All of a sudden, Marc jerked away from you as if he had been burned. But, much to his dismay, you hung on like a leech and dangled from his body in the exact position you were laying down in. He gaped. “How..?” 

You grinned. “I need warmth when I’m sick and my boyfriend has been gone for two days. It’s pure desperation.” 

He pulled himself back into the bed with you attached. “I love you.”

You yawned. “Love you too.”

When you woke the next morning, you felt a ton better. Rolling over in bed, you checked the time. 9:45, it read. “Yes!” You cheered. “Nine hours of sleep!” Then it hit you. Where was Marc? “Marc?” You called out. When you were met with no answer, you tried again. “Steven?” 

Still no answer.

“Jake?”

Nothing. Radio silence.

Sliding out of bed, you pondered where they could be. Another mission? Seemed plausible. You were about to accept that with a sigh when you heard noises from the bathroom, ones that didn’t sound all that happy. 

Your eyes widened as you flung open the door to the bathroom, and you were met with a sight that etched a frown into your features. “Marc,” you crouched down next to him, rubbing his back as he’d done to you the night before. “I’m so sorry.”

a/n: as you can probably tell, but i wrote this MONTHS ago while i was sick, so i apologize in advance for any typos or issues i missed! also look at his smile in the gif omfg

[writingfics-passingtime]

Song: Fahrenheit - Azee

With Marc Spector x fem reader

(I think this may fit well with the Outlaw fic 👀)

Lovely anon, thank you for this request! Definitely feels like Outlaw and that tough-guy reader, and I had fun writing that type of reader character again.

I completely failed at writing something drabble-length but my house, my rules to break. The urge to turn this into such a long fic was and is so fucking strong… sorry for how I left this one 😅 I hope you like it 💜

Compromise

This one-shot is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song prompt: Fahrenheit

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader

Words: 2450

CWs: Some swearing, mentions of violence

There’s a light on in an upstairs window.

A shadow ebbing through the soft warm glow tells Marc that it wasn’t left on by mistake; there’s someone else inside. But another intruder wouldn’t have turned a light on, unless they were dead stupid, so whoever’s inside is allowed to be.

He’ll have to be careful.

It’s a little past two in the morning when Marc sticks a pick into the keyhole of a maintenance entrance and enters the great stone building. As to be expected in this old library, no alarm or security camera pings the signal detector on his watch. He relaxes, still keeping his steps quiet, and hopes that this strange directive from Khonshu would remain simply strange and not complicated.

“Why do you need me to steal an old book?”

“It’s not a book in the way your human mind is limited to understand,” Khonshu explained. Marc didn’t pretend to look interested or unbothered, but some secret place found relief in the lack the command to end another evil life.

“The Ennead Codex contains matters of great importance, and it is in danger of falling into the hands of those who wish to access the underworld.”

Whatever that means, Marc thought. He didn’t question it further. Really, he didn’t care all that much. It was just another task from his master.

Without many more words, Khonshu told Marc where the sacred manuscripts had been hidden for the past several decades. They’d been moved to this seemingly insignificant library in a small town.

Hidden in plain sight.

As Marc lifts a brass handle and slips through a dark walnut door into the main chambers of the library, he doesn’t bother donning the suit. He’d probably slip in and out undetected, harnessing his years of covert ops.

For a small town, the room is towering and impressive and beautiful. Filtered through a expanse of glass in the ceiling, moonlight casts its judgement across the carved stone pillars of the rotunda. Patches of dark blue carpet are dimly aglow with the help of the night sky, until Marc casts his own shadow across them.

He walks past the circular desk that sits in the dead centre of the room, now having clocked the sign for the Reference section where Khonshu said the Codex may be hidden.

The shelves are shrouded in darkness as he approaches and searches for the number “202.” He doesn’t get very far before the hairs on the back of his neck pique his fight or flight.

His right hand meets the gun at his side, pointer finger itching to meet the strength of the trigger, and a small clicking noise on the other side of the room sends him slipping behind a pillar.

He waits, listens, tries to discern where the sound came from. Footsteps. Coming towards the centre of the room.

Towards him.

Marc slows his breathing to keep it quiet. He wonders if the other presence in the library can sense him in the way he could sense them. Sure, years of tactical training hone the senses, but there’s also a distinct human instinct that tells someone when they’re not alone. He swallows hard when he remembers that it’s possible this other presence is not human.

“I know you’re in here,” a voice echoes through the aisles and up to the ceiling. Sounds human enough. She doesn’t sound afraid so she probably has a weapon. Marc tightens his grip on the gun, readying to draw.

“Come on out,” you command, sounding a little impatient.

You don’t declare a weapon. He doesn’t hear the safety of a pistol disengage, or the cocking of a shotgun, so he emerges from the shadows with a hand on his holstered gun.

You look sharp and powerful, standing in the centre of the room. Empty hands hang by your side - no visible weapon - you tilt your head, intrigued when you see the intruder. The light of the early morning moon chisels harshly against your features, projecting something familiar and severe towards the man who’d broken in.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is accusing. You take a step towards him, head lowering to show him an unwavering, disarming stare. There’s a flicker of hostility and a glint of gold in your eyes that numbs his tongue just long enough to be too long. “English?” You stop walking and set your jaw. You look like a normal person.

“Yeah, English,” Marc finds his words and quickly assesses you, your stance, the outline of your body. There’s no bulkiness to your clothing, there’s no tension that gives away a readiness to strike; you’re no threat to him. There’s time to grab the book and get out before the small-town cops arrived.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. No one needs to get hurt.” He says it as he turns away from you and you immediately call out after him.

“I won’t let you take it.”

He turns back and narrows his eyes in question.

“I know what you’re here for,” your fingers begin to curl into fists, your chest rises with a breath of preparation. “You need to leave. Now.”

Marc’s eyes flick to your growing battle posture, and he begins to summons the suit.

The exhales of the old pages lining the bookshelves glitter dust through the streams of moonlight. The same moonlight from which Khonshu’s vessel draws the power he begins to feel pulsing through his fingertips, through his chest and the back of his head. He lowers the hand from his gun and looks you dead in the eye. Marc sees another glimmer of gold. It was so fast, if he’d been blinking he’d have missed it. He juts his chin in challenge. “Who are you?”

“Leave,” is your only answer. “I won’t tell you again.”

The room fills with a gentle thundering the second your hands close into fists. Books, across every shelf, buzz with a strange power. The light fixtures are barely swinging, there’s no dust falling from the ceilings, but the shelves are alive with a ferocity you held. No more time to waste.

Lunar silver fills Marc’s vision as the sacred suit fixes tightly around him. He can’t leave here without that Codex. He’s fully prepared to fight you for it.

He positions himself into a stance ready to defend and to attack, watching with bated breath as you see his suit take place. The moment the ceremonial garb fits the last swath to Marc’s skin, you raise your fists.

The room falls quiet. The books fall still.

Marc waits, he listens, he watches as you determine he’s a bigger threat than you’d thought. It looks like you’re bleeding energy to hold your fists above your head, like you’re holding great power. Then, he notices the stream of moonlight begin to dilute. A warm, golden light begins emanating from the bookshelves. From the books themselves.

In a move too swift to predict, you draw your arms down towards your chest and fall to one knee.

A thread of light shoots from what looks to be every page in the room, blasting towards you before he has the chance to blink. Marc has to shield his eyes and again duck behind the pillar to protect himself from a glare so bright he was sure it rivalled the sun’s surface. It’s overpowering, debilitating, even through his tightly shut eyes, he throws his face against the crook of his elbow until he can sense the light begin to wane.

He emerges from the pillar fully prepared to attack, but stops in his tracks when he sees you rise to your feet.

You had transformed.

In a way that was all too familiar.

Golden cuffs circle your wrists, upper arms, your collar adorned with twists of gold and ivory. The breastplate of your armour is blanched leather bordered in the bones of an ancient being. A white cloth drapes around your waist, falling halfway down your legs. Your shins are wrapped in the same cloth, down to where your ankles are cuffed in gold above your bare feet.

Marc hold up his hands in surrender when he eyes the long golden staff in your white-knuckled grip. Not because he thought he couldn’t win, but because it looked like something he’d seen before. “I think we’re on the same side here.”

You smirk, scoff through your nose and point the staff at him. “Anyone attempting to steal the Ennead Codex is on no side of ours.”

“I’m not trying to steal it,” Marc drops the hood and lets the cloth peel back from his face. To show you his eyes in an appeal for trust. You didn’t waver. “I was sent to retrieve it.”

A raised eyebrow tells Marc that, to you, it’s the same fucking thing.

He holds his breath and asks, “Who do you serve?”

He watches you examine him. His suit. He watches as you realise you have a lot more in common than you’d care to admit; somehow, somewhere along the way, your lives ended up in the hands of beings too powerful to comprehend.

You don’t lower your staff as you say, with pride and strength in your voice, “I am the Scribe of Seshat. Tasked with protecting the Ennead Codex, and any knowledge those would seek out to use for destruction.” Marc takes a step forward and you don’t like that. With a single nod up, you counter, “Your turn.” Your grip on the hook-ended staff tightens. He doesn’t flinch.

“I am the Fist of Khonshu. Tasked with protecting travellers of the night.” He only stops when he’s a step away from the end of your staff. “Khonshu sent me to retrieve the Codex.”

You pull the sharp hook away, planting the lower end back on the floor beside your feet, and the books thunder for half a second. Again, Marc doesn’t flinch.

After several moments of tense, insular processing, you fix your eyes on a shelf behind your intruder and you begin to look nervous. “Seshat said this day would come.” You then meet his eye with an openness he hadn’t expected. “I just didn’t think it would be this soon.”

“Seshat doesn’t sit on the Ennead Council,” Marc subtly probes, keenly watching the way you’d react.

“No,” you confirm. “Never wants to. The only reason she has an Avatar is to keep them at bay. Seshat wants nothing to do with the Council…” you begin to walk past him, pausing at his side to add, “Especially Khonshu.”

You keep walking so Marc turns his body towards you, and don’t tell him to stay or back off so he follows as you enter the darkened rows.

Your barefooted steps are automatic and confident, carrying you to near the end of a nondescript shelf of reference material. After a moment of pause, reverence, and reflection, you place your hand on the spine of a thick book and chant a few words under your breath. It glows gold for a moment before changing appearance and sliding out into your hand.

Marc watches you caress the edges of the pages and look at the Ennead Codex as if it were something you truly cared for. Truly believed in.

He holds out a hand and promises, “I won’t let anything happen to it.”

Your head snaps towards him and he sees a startling intensity in your eye, along with those flecks of gold. “I know you won’t,” you start, “because the Codex isn’t leaving my sight.” Marc opens his mouth to protest but your protective grip tightens and you set your jaw. “I am the keeper of this Codex. I go where it goes.”

Marc shakes his head once. “Not gonna happen.”

“It’s not up for debate.”

“Don’t make me take it from you.”

A new low rumbling begins all around. Your eyes don’t leave each other as a smirk peaks into the corner of your mouth. “A sliver of waning moonlight versus a roomful of knowledge… do you like your chances against me in my domain, Moon Knight?”

Marc’s stomach lurches, though he gives no outward indication. Moon Knight. He didn’t tell you that name.

Your eyes burn gold, brightening every moment you build the power you’re pulling from the sources around you. Marc bites his tongue and assesses the situation as the library fills with the show of the ancient being you carry the mark of.

Marc arrives at the conclusion that, if you are indeed a vessel for Seshat, fighting you here would be a losing battle. He has no advantage. So, like a good Marine, he knows when to call the retreat. He knows when to compromise, and he does so with a gentle lift of his hands in surrender.

Your eyes return to normal, the books stop readying themselves for battle, and you brush past him with the Codex in your hands. He turns, recovering quickly, and starts after you. “How d’you-”

“Know that name?” You suddenly stop and turn. Marc’s body almost crashes against yours but he stops on a dime and plants one foot behind him, giving you two at least a little bit of personal space. You look him up and down before levelling him with a single look. “How do I, Avatar of the great Goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge, the goddess who invented writing and record-keeping… how do I know who you are?”

Your rhetorical question hangs in the air like the smirk lingers on your lips. After a few moments, Marc nods and sticks his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “We’ll go together to Khonshu, then go our separate ways.”

After, in silence, you reminisce on what Seshat had told you about this day that would come, you nod. “Fine. But if you try to take this from me, I’m gone.”

He gestures around and tries to look unimpressed. “Do you need to do a little light show to change outfits or…?”

He drops the suit in a matter of seconds, before showing a forced and sarcastic smile. Without breaking eye contact, your own garb seamlessly transforms back into the simple clothes you’d been wearing when you first walked in. Your height lifts by an inch when the sneakers finally form around your feet, and you don’t waste a second to turn and begin walking back towards the door from which you and Marc both came. “Keep up, Moon Boy.”

Marc huffs a low grunt, takes a deep breath to ground himself, and sets his jaw before following after you.

This was supposed to be a simple in-and-out, not a full-on extraction. He was here for the Codex, and now that you’ll be leaving your power source he’ll have to look after you until gods know when.

U.S. Marine to glorified fuckin’ babysitter…

Khonshu owes him. Big time.

[kingcrow01]

DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

[perseephoneee]

⭑ FIC RECS ⭑

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

last updated: 04/15/2024

↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*

SUPERNATURAL

every headcanon from @via-l0ve

her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)

dances with team free will @octoberclidan

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse

ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney

dean reads you wrong @zepskies

she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme

smoke eater (series) @zepskies

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER

a taste of summer @impala-dreamer

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer

beautiful to me @impala-dreamer

angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin

i'll watch over you @octoberclidan

if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites

neckties @supernaturalfreewill

love, by any other name @zepskies

peculiar @supernaturalfreewill

because of books @supernaturalfreewill

last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51

don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51

his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer

sharing is caring (III) @zepskies

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines

aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines

hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy

mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

cruel summer @hotdogwillex

come back to me @hotdogwillex

cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy

i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf

drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife

dream @rogershoe

fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs

teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs

prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals

VAMPIRE DIARIES

dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

hold (18+) @wholoveseggs

extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs

blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs

warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs

the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

she knew better (18+) @klausysworld

distracted @theeoriginals

you bring me home @theeoriginals

sharp (18+) @theeoriginals

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

christmas khaos @wholoveseggs

goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines

frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri

thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

proposal @kmikaelsonimagines

Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey

bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey

shots @so-long-soldier-writes

little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey

of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey

ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey

like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER

for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx

lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

kisses @socio-kai-path1972

why? @socio-kai-path1972

affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES

a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI

reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose

overtime (18+) @cleo-fox

loki's happy ending @gingerwritess

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES

graveyard @wkemeup

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

red flags (18+) @astroboots

HUNGER GAMES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR

oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore

darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs

TED LASSO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT

chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly

about you @buckychristwrites

saved you a seat @benedictscanvas

operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff

DOCTOR WHO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR

family christmas @writerlyhabits

gestures and evasion @doctenwho

before you go @doctorslove

falling in love again @doctorslove

CRIMINAL MINDS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID

virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland

i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks

all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland

a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer

second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems

preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva

STRANGER THINGS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE

two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve

[soft-girl-musings]

Cry (MK Spring Bingo #1)

Marc Spector x Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: panic/anxiety attacks, possibly inaccurate description of an emergency room visit (i don't remember the exact process i borrowed from my own experience bc i was sick… in the ER…), no use of y/n

wc: 1,356

fic summary: Three times Marc told you it was okay to cry, and one time you returned the favor.

A/N: Finally got around to writing something for someone besides jake lockley, bless. once again this is self-indulgent, but if anything hits home for you i'm glad <3 (based on Adam Melchor's "Cry" , which is the most marc-coded piece of music i've ever heard. in this essay i will)

_____________________

The first time came out of nowhere.

Nothing was wrong per se; no major injury or crisis had come up. All you knew was that you were frozen in the corner of your room, hot tears streaming down your face as your mind raced between a million different things.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my–” Marc’s request stopped the moment he saw you frozen in the darkened room, gripping the sleeves of your shirt as you bit your lip so hard you risked giving yourself another reason to cry.

“I just need a minute,” your voice came out trembling and heavy, as if too many syllables would cause the tears to fall with greater force. Not that you knew how to stop them, or how they even started.

Quick strides across the room brought Marc to your side. His warm hands wrapped around yours, cold and losing color from digging into your arms. 

Words were never his strong suit; Marc’s a man of few, usually letting his presence and actions suffice. So when faced with consoling you against some invisible threat, he could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking in tandem with your staggered breath.

So he stood there. Until your fingers relaxed and entwined with his, he stood there until he could guide you to the floor. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, he cradled you as you continued to cry.

“This is so stupid,” you groaned as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So fucking… ugh.”

“Hey,” he shushed you. “Not stupid. You’re feeling what you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t know why,” you choked out. It was hard enough being so distraught; not having a valid reason for it made everything hurt more.

“You don't have to justify it. Don't have to do anything but just… be here.” A hand to your temple eased your head against his chest. “I'm here, as long as you need me to be.”

This was all the permission you needed to let another rush of tears spill down your cheeks, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind.

___________________

The second time was in the emergency room.

You'd never struggled to catch your breath like this before; a common cold turned south and triggered long-dormant childhood asthma, making your lungs betray the rest of your body. Marc drove you to the ER when your hollow coughing didn't let up for the third day in a row. Head spinning and chest aflame, you were rushed to the back as soon as Marc told them you couldn't breathe.

“You've got to breathe steady, honey.”

“I'm trying,” you muttered around the medicated tube in your mouth. It had to be almost 3 in the morning; your body ached like crazy and you didn't catch a word of what the nurse told you to do with your medication. All you knew was that you were cold, exhausted, and grateful to have Marc there to time your breathing.

But even with his hand holding yours, you still felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every inhalation brought medicine to your airways, but the ragged sensation resonated through your chest and made your body ache more.

“I'm so tired,” you finally said around the device. With that, your tears fell faster than you could swipe at them. Your frown pushed the device from your mouth, but you didn't care.

Marc sprang up, catching the equipment when your grip faltered. He said nothing; instead, he climbed onto the bed with you, leaning your back against his chest and taking your hand in his once more, bringing the medication back to your lips. You let him bear your weight, immediate relief washing over you as he took over keeping the device steady with one hand and gently dabbing a tissue at your cheek with the other. 

“Nothing wrong with a few tears, honey. Means you’re alive.”

When you finally went home, the fire in your lungs extinguished, he held you again until you fell asleep.

_____________________

“.....The movie just started.”

(The third time was on the living room couch.)

You had finally talked Marc into watching La La Land with you (with the promise of his getting to choose the next movie night film, of course). You were barely 30 seconds into the opening number when you'd started crying, eyes glued to the screen as dozens of up-and-comers danced and sang about their dreams to make it in the industry.

“They haven't said anything.”

“They're saying everything.”

“He's dancing on a car.”

“Because he's excited!”

“Why did they stop traffic to dance?”

You didn't hear the rest of his quips, too engrossed in the scene. The colors, the music, and the highly impractical interstate  choreography had a way of getting to you ever since you first saw this movie. Meanwhile, Marc sat with his arms crossed and eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow along.

When you noticed his body language, you reached for the remote and paused the movie. “Do you… want to watch something else?”

Marc's face fell when he realized this new batch of tears wasn’t because of the movie, but because of him. The thought of making your cry hit like a punch to the gut.

He took the remote from you, moving closer to your side. “Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. I need your commentary if I'm gonna keep up.” He hit play and choked down every criticism as he saw your face light up, tears of joy brimming during the remaining 2 hours of the film.

The next morning, while making breakfast, you could have sworn you heard Marc humming Another Day of Sun under his breath.

_____________________

As you'd grown closer, you began to know Marc as your rock, your steady landing place when you had thoughts and feelings too big to deal with on your own. He never had to say much to be there for you. He kept you tethered and together, happy to be of service no matter how ugly your hardships felt. 

It was only a matter of time before you saw a crack in his foundation.

You got home late one night, a thunderstorm hot on your heels. You had shrugged off your coat and shoes, calling out to Marc to see if he was home. No response.

You checked each room diligently, until you found him sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Marc?” You asked softly, walking toward him. You knelt in front of him, and the sight of his face twisted into an unfamiliar expression, a steady stream of tears spilling from his reddened eyes, was more than you could bear.

The first time came out of nowhere.

“Can you give me your hands, Marc?” He complied, his breath short and his eyes fixed on the storm pelting the window with sheet after sheet of rain. His vision darted between drops of water and streaks of lightning. The room shook with the echoes of thunder as the worst of the storm hit.

“Hey,” you urged him. “Just be here. With me.” Your thumb traced his wrist as you tried to stay calm.  “Can you breathe with me, Marc?” You sat up on your knees. He nodded, slowly but surely matching the pace of your breath. 

You didn't know what was on his mind, only that it was racing. You couldn't tell what had him so worked up, only that his breath escaped him even as you counted to ten again, and again, unrelenting in your focus on him. You had no idea what made your rock, your anchor, cry like this.

Maybe he'd tell you later; maybe it'd remain a mystery. None of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was the rhythm of your breath as the rain let up; the way his tears drenched your sleeves when you dabbed at his flushed cheeks; the steady thrum of his heart as his body relaxed beside yours. All that mattered was how, with your chest pressed to his back as you lay on top of the bedspread, he let you hold him for a change.

_____________________

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added/taken off this wee tag list)

[toracainz]

Shrike

Masterlist

Summary: Things with Marc have been…touchy to say the least. Can things get better?

Pairings: Marc x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing. Established relationships. Verbal conflict. Break up. Physical conflict with some asshole. Knife but no harm to reader. Everything is wet but not how you think. hurt/comfort. angst/comfort. i mean I hope the comfort is there lol.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: this is for my first-ever fic request. never thought someone would ever want to ask me of all people for a fic. I hope everyone likes it. it kind of got away from when writing it sooooo lol

Things were fairly quiet in the flat as Marc enters looking exhausted. It doesn’t take him long to notice the sound of the shower running. You were home. Just great. With an exasperated huff, Marc makes his way to the chest of drawers to quickly pack for yet another mission. Grabbing the things he was looking for he begins to shove them in a bag, trying to hurry out of the flat before you can notice, but he was never that lucky.

The shower turned off as he was putting the last couple things in and in a rush Marc runs into a chair with a loud thud and a “Fuck!”

“Marc?” You called from the bathroom, hoping it was him and not some burglar, as you stepped out, wrapped in your towel. He had been gone for quite some time with no word on if he was okay or when he’d be coming back. You and Marc had been together a while now, so long that he actually trusted you enough to tell you about Khonshu and what being his avatar meant. It was a bit hard to believe at first, until Marc summoned his suit in front of you…there’s no denying it then. So you came to understand that what Marc was doing was for the greater good, that he was out there helping good people and punishing bad ones. The first few times he left on a mission, you were worried sick and oh so relieved when he got back no matter how long that would be for…but after a while, after many discussions about just a simple text being enough, some kind of indication he was alive and maybe even when you would see him again him being away also brought frustration and maybe a little anger. While fights had become frequent when his missions were brought up, you both managed to make up and move on…until it happened again.

“Shit…” Marc muttered under his breath, “Yeah!…yeah, it’s me. Just stopped by to grab some things…got a uh…long trip ahead.” He knew what was about to come, another fight, another round of the same old thing.

“That’s it?! You’re just grabbing things and going? Were you even going to say ‘hello’? Or ‘I missed you’? Or ‘I love you’? Just grabbing things and avoiding me now?” Your tone became more and more agitated with each question. You had been waiting for him to come back, like you always did, and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Did he seriously need to go on another mission right as he was coming back from one??

“I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“Do you even know what day it is? Of course I’m home, Marc.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Spector. How many more times do I have to ask you, to beg you to just send me a message or call me? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you really just didn’t give a shit.” By now you’ve shed the towel that was wrapped around you and began to dress yourself. You were fuming and you truly wondered if he did care, if he could change.

“Is that what you think?” Marc let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, his grin at your accusatory statement beginning to  turn sour. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. To be right about me, huh? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about us, about you? Fine…you know what you’re right. I’ll save you the trouble and just get the fuck out of here.”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Is he fucking serious right now? That’s it. “Good. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” The words felt cold even to you, but what else could be done? Sleepless nights, the secrecy, the blatant disregard for your relationship…you were basically like another goldfish for him and the flat your tank, just waiting for Marc to come back and feed you the little flakey sorry excuses for quality time or physical touch. It’s time to find open waters.

Marc couldn’t believe you, he didn’t believe you, that you would seriously leave. If he’s being honest with himself (which let’s be honest he can rarely be honest with the people he cares about let alone himself) he’s surprised you haven’t left him before now. Maybe he really is a piece of shit that doesn’t care…no, he can’t think like that. You’ve fought before and you make up and…everything’s okay. That’s right. You’re the one constant in his life and he really does look forward to seeing you after his missions…everything’s going to be okay.

He looks at you, intense brown eyes assessing you for your bluff…of course you’re bluffing…he shakes his head letting out a puff of breath through his nose before turning and walking out the door, shutting it a little harder than intended but not quite a slam.

Unfortunately for Marc…you weren’t bluffing.

As he makes his way out of the flat and on to his next mission you had begun to pack your things, anger simmering into frustration and heartbreak as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to steady yourself but you can’t stop the tears. Grabbing your things, or as much of it as you care to take with you, you walked out and locked the door. With the key in hand you looked it for a moment and sighed.

“Goodbye, Marc Spector.”

You knelt down and slid the key under the door, turning away and headed home.

~*~*~*~

Marc tries to quietly enter the flat like he had weeks earlier…once again he hadn’t called or texted you to update you on his mission, how he was, when he was coming back. This time however he was going to be able to just relax a while. Knowing things were left not on great terms, he had been ruminating on how to make it up to you. “I won’t be here when you get back.” The whole time he had been away those words stayed with him, he would tell himself you didn’t mean it, that you would still be here. After all, you were so patient and understanding of him, his past, and trying to help him make a better future.

Marc wasn't the best at keeping people close, especially the people he cared about. He told himself the reason he never called or texted you while on a mission was for your safety, he didn’t want anyone catching wind of him having something or someone to lose. He told himself it was the same reason that when he returned from a mission he would never come directly home. He would always stay at his storage locker a night or so or even stay somewhere else entirely before making his way back to the flat to see you. Of course he never expressed this. That would have made too much sense, made things too easy. And Marc was never good at making things easy, especially for himself.

He walked around the flat, looking for a sign you might be here. He didn’t see your bags or your laptop anywhere and he didn’t hear the shower or sink so you weren’t in the bathroom.

“Babe???” He called out. Maybe you were hiding? Yeah right, not really any place to hide in this open floor plan flat. “Baby???” Still he called out hoping just maybe you were hiding. He started back to the front of the flat, thinking you might have been in the kitchen (maybe with your headphones in listening to music) and he just didn’t notice. Marc was beginning to feel like a kid that had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store. But when he got to the kitchen it was empty. Now he was beginning to panic. Maybe someone had found out about you and took you. He was already jumping to the worst possible scenario.

Clenching his fists, he hung his head trying to think of what to do, how to find you. His hands found their way into his curls as he gave them a tug getting more and more desperate with each passing second. That’s when the glint of something metallic flashed at him from a spot on the floor in front of the door. Confused and intrigued, he slowly approached it as if it might suddenly attack, but once he got closer he felt like he would have preferred a key monster attacking him.

Your copy of the key.

He knelt down, picking it up, examining it. This was definitely your key. Realization came crashing down on him. You really meant what you said. He really fucked up.

“Shit…SHIT!!”

He had to find you. He never wanted it to end like this, hell he never wanted it to end in general. It was one of those moments where you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Marc grabbed his jacket and keys and started back out into the chilly London night, thunder rolling in the distance. He had to find you and apologize. You deserved at least that. He told himself that even if you didn’t take him back, even if you didn’t forgive him, he wouldn’t blame you or be upset, you had every right to be upset. He fucked up royally after you begged him to be better. Maybe next time he would learn from his mistake, if he allowed himself to find someone else…but he didn’t want anyone else.

He managed to find a flower shop that was just about to close. Briefly summarizing his situation the shoppist took pity on him, letting him buy a small bouquet. Marc felt that if it was too big his apology might seem insincere or that he was just trying to bribe you to come back. No, the size he got was modest, but not puny. He hoped you would like it, even if you no longer liked him.

With an aching heart, he begins the trek to your place. You both hadn’t talked about moving in together just yet, but maybe if Marc hadn’t been such an ass maybe you could have.

~*~*~*~

The past weeks had been…hard, to say the least. You had gone home and cried and got angry and cried some more. By now the pain, though still fresh, had simmered down a little. You didn’t want things to end that way, but Marc just wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t change. It was hard having him gone so often, worrying if he was alright even knowing the suit would heal him. You just wanted to have him near you, hold you, and you wanted to do the same to him. He’s a good man deep down, but he just can’t seem to get out of his own way.

Your friends had been taking you out on the town since you broke things off with Marc, trying to get your mind off of it all. It worked, sometimes. Other times you would call it an “early” night and head back to your flat. This was one of those nights.

You had dressed cute, a very flattering outfit in both fit and color. You had a drink or two but nothing crazy, not like one of your friends. They all decided to stay out into the early morning, you however thought about your bed and sleeping in. The sound of your shoes against the sidewalk was really the only sound around in this sleepy part of town, aside from the thunder that seemed to get closer. Heaving a sigh, you cursed at yourself for not having brought a proper jacket or umbrella, but you were close to your neighborhood so maybe you could get there before it truly started raining. Now the bed was sounding even better than before, rain outside, cozy blanket, your comfort movie on, the feeling of being watched…your steps were no longer the only ones heard echoing in the night air. Your thoughts were yanked from the blissful thoughts of home to the very present moment and the gravity of just how alone you are this late at night.

You don’t dare look back, so you start to walk a little faster…the other steps picking up their pace too. Again and again, until you’re practically running, but try as you might those other steps are quicker. A strong arm suddenly grabs you from behind as a hand quickly covers your mouth as the body begins to carry you into an alley as rain begins to sprinkle down. The man harshly presses you against the hard exterior of the building…a glint in the dim light…a knife coming to hover in front of your face. As the rain begins to come down truly, it hides the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek.

“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s your friends, hmm? Seen you walking this way couple times…watching that ass move down the road. But that isn’t all I want. Give me your purse, your phone, anything of value…now.” His voice was harsh and his smell somehow still carried through in the rain. You hate how close he was, close enough to know things about him you never wanted to know. As he shifts against you, adjusting his hold on you, you can’t help but whimper in fear.

“Come on now! Don’t have all night pretty thing…out with it.” He barked in your face as your trembling hands began to comply, handing him your things.

“P…please just…please don’t…” Trying to catch your breath at this moment proved nearly impossible. Your heart pounding against your ribs, your lungs doing the same as your hastened breath matched your heart. This couldn’t be happening, why was this happening.

The man tucked your things away, to where you didn't know and didn’t care. You let out a whimper of fear of what might come next. The cold rain beating down on the both of you made you feel even more helpless, especially when a figure was suddenly standing at the entrance to the alley you had been dragged in. It was difficult to make out his features with the way the street light was lighting him from the back. Anxiety spiked as you began to wonder if this was another creep wanting to get in on the action, if they were a weird team or something, but more than anything you hoped it was some kind soul who would help you…though you were quickly running out of hope.

“Oi, what are you looking at huh?” The creep challenged the figure, so they obviously didn't know each other. You glanced around hoping the man would be distracted enough that maybe you could make a break for it, but before you could hatch a plan the figure was headed towards the both of you. “Are you deaf?! You better walk the other way and mind your business, yeah?!”

By now you had closed your eyes, you didn’t know what to do, words were failing you. All you wanted was to be home in bed and for all this to be some sick nightmare brought on by the night's tiring events. The sound of plastic hitting the ground was nearly drowned out by the pattering of rain. In an instant you were colder than before. Was this it? You stood there trembling as time seemed to drag on one agonizing second after another. You realized the creep was no longer caging himself around you, there was a thud and splash of a body hitting the puddling rain on the ground…then a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk.

Your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as you slowly opened your eyes, raindrops collecting on them before inevitably falling to your cheeks. And there you see the second man, pummeling the creep until he’s just a groaning barely writhing mess on the ground. When the man stood he gave the creep a swift kick to the gut causing him to cough and wheeze as the man wiped his knuckles clean before retrieving your things…and pocketing them himself. Oh shit, no this can’t be…not another asshole. Your legs could finally hear your brain’s commands as you started to hurry to the alley opening, the crunch of plastic as you stepped on what the man had dropped.

A strong, forceful, calloused hand grabbed your arm as you let out a scream. “NOOOOO! LET GO!!!” Somehow your fight had returned as you pulled against the man’s grip, his other hand coming to grab your arm. He was…saying something, but you didn’t want to hear it, you just wanted to run.

“BABY!!”

You froze, your eyes snapping to look at the man holding you still, eyes wide from adrenaline, fear, and shock. The street light no longer casting a shadow over his features, now the light shone on his damped tan skin and making his wet curly hair glisten.

“M…Marc? Marc…” You couldn’t help it, seeing him there feeling his grip holding you steady, everything came crashing in. A heartbreaking sob clattered from deep inside. Marc reached up, cupping your face in his hands.

“Shhhh…shhh it’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks before slipping behind to pull you in close. The rain beat down on you both as Marc held you until you had managed to calm down enough so your thoughts could catch up with what was happening.

“Marc, you…how did you…why are you…?” You stuttered as his hand reached up, gently wiping your hair out of your face where it had clung to your skin.

“I uh…I was coming to see you…to apologize. Wanted to get my thoughts together on what I wanted to say…felt like walking was the best way to do that. Well, walking where I could. That’s when I heard a bit of…what was happening. I was already ready to step in and do something…but when I saw it was you I just saw red. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” The way he looked at you, his chocolatey brown eyes seeming so dark in the late night, you still didn’t understand.

Marc carefully and slowly let go of you to pick up the plastic wrapped bouquet of flowers, now slightly trampled and looking a little rough.

“These were…these were for you. Though, I don’t blame you if you don’t want them now.” He turned the bouquet this way and that to examine the little bit of damage they sustained. Looking back at you, clearly still in shock, he hands you the bouquet and begins to take off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders. The jacket shielding you, it was warm and helped take the chill from your skin. Putting his arm around you, he began to lead you out of the alley and down the sidewalk to your flat. Once at the door, he helped you to unlock it.

“Well, um…you get inside and get warm.” He stood there a moment, not sure what to do really. Should he come in? Would you even want him to come in? Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over…Marc doesn’t believe you’d want him to stick around too long. So, he begins to take a few steps away from you and the door.

“Why did you come to find me, Marc? The flowers? What is…what is happening here? I mean—thank you, for saving me. For—for being there, I just…I don’t understand.” Shaking your head you still tried to make sense of what felt like a very strange sequence of events. You looked at him, like really looked at him. The man you thought you’d never see again except for an awkward exchange at a pub or a tesco. He resembled a sad puppy that had been left in the rain.

“That’s probably the shock. You’ll want to lay down for a while…like I said, I wanted to—to apologize. For being an ass, for not listening to you, for all the times you begged me to do something and I never did. Look,” Marc took a deep breath, his shirt now beginning to cling to his body. “I am in no way expecting you to forgive me or take me back or give me a second chance cause quite frankly I don’t deserve it. You asked me so many times to do something so simple and I had convinced myself that by me not doing that—not texting you or calling you—I was protecting you. That I was making it so people wouldn’t find out about you…and I should have just told you that. I am so sorry. If I had—if I had maybe you wouldn’t have been out tonight. Maybe you would have been back home waiting for me to come home, you wouldn’t have…” his chest began to rise and fall as his breath hastened.

He did this. He caused this domino effect where you could have gotten seriously hurt. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t help but hurt the people he cares about. Maybe it is better that he just not get close to anyone…as much as it breaks his heart.

While Marc had begun to spiral you made your way down the front steps over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“Marc, stop that. None of what happened tonight is because of you…sure I might have been somewhere else, but some creep could have found me any other night. He could have found me while you were gone on your mission, but,” you quickly added, giving Marc a stern look, stopping him from saying that that would have been his fault too for not being here, “you can’t blame yourself for that. Marc, do you know how long I’ve just wanted an apology? An acknowledgment of how you were hurting me.” When those words left your mouth, Marc brows knit together, causing that crease between them to appear, he looked positively gutted. Of course he was hurting you, there didn’t need to be some weirdo in the middle of the night or some enemy of his to cause you pain—he was already doing that.

“I know…and I should have said it a long time ago. I should have because you deserved that much…that’s why I came out to find you…why I got the flowers. I—You deserved better. I understand why you left and I’m sorry it had to end like that.” He did everything he could not to look at you, he thought if he did his heart would hurt more than it already did. “You deserve far better than someone that doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone.”

Your hand reached up, gently cupping his rain slick cheek, the both of you thoroughly soaked by now, but not wanting to leave the other despite the rain. When Marc felt the warmth of your hand on his cheek he couldn’t help but lean into it, damn he missed this.

“Oh, Marc…damn it. I never wanted to leave. I wanted you to work with me. It broke my heart to leave, but I didn’t see any other way. You didn’t seem like you wanted this to work…wanted us to work.” Your other hand came up to move his hair from where it stuck to his skin like he had yours. This really hit Marc hard. He wanted to be with you, couldn’t imagine life without you. Well he got a glimpse of it tonight and the horrid taste it left in his mouth was something he wished to never taste again, but that wasn’t up to him.

He took a deep breath, a calloused hand coming to hold yours against his cheek.

“Come inside, Marc.”

“I—I shouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t asking. You say you don’t want a second chance, that you don’t deserve one, but if anyone deserves a second chance it’s Marc Spector.”

His eyes snapped up to find yours, slightly widened at this news. “Baby…”

“Marc, I love you. And I want you in my life, but if this is going to work, if we’re going to be together…some things have got to get better. All I’ve done since I left was think about you. So…promise me, if we do this, that things will get better.” You stepped closer to him, your body pressing against his as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.

“I swear. Baby, I swear. I’ll text you, call you, send postcards, anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, all the times I fucked up.” He pulled you closer, arm wrapping around you.

“Marc, let’s take this a step at a time. Okay? A new start. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven on Earth. Like I’ve been reborn.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his flowery statements. Marc could be goofy when he wanted to, you felt like he was only able to relax when you were around and you didn’t mind that. It meant that you made him comfortable, that he felt like he could let down some of his walls and let you in.

Hearing your laugh made his heart lighter, a smile spreading across his lips. Marc was in awe of you, of your features, your laugh and voice, and your saint-like patience. He found himself leaning in, eyes drifting down to your lips, yours doing the same. You couldn’t help it, not with how close he was and how his hand held you against him.

“Marc,” you breathed out before his kiss took your breath away. He pressed his lips to yours like it had been a lifetime since he’d kissed you. The rain didn’t seem so cold anymore as you both embraced.

taglist: @saberlight1 @roseqzpd​ @rosecentaur1916​ @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

[oddballwriter]

Personal Nurses

Summary: You get sick with something and need to stay home, and so your lovely boyfriends take up the job of nursing you back to health.

Warnings: Mentions of being sick (sore throat, stuffy nose, and fever). Taking medicine. Half Google translated Spanish, my high school Spanish is really rusty the grammar may be weird. Other wise a nice wholesome sick comfort fic.

Author’s Snip: Fun fact, this was originally going to be a fic where it was about Abi (the reader and system’s daughter that have a bit of an unofficial series with) getting sick. But I decided to make it about the boys taking care of you because I got a nasty cold a while ago and wanted to see this.

Notes: Again, the grammar in Jake’s Spanish speaking might be not so good because my Spanish is rusty as hell.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 692

Being sick wasn’t that great. Sure, it got you out of needing to do things, but you also had to deal with actually being sick. And that’s never great.

You went to bed last night with a tickle in your throat and runny nose that you thought would pass in the morning, but then you woke up dying for water, barely able to breathe through your nose, and now you were burning up like a whore in church.

When Steven eventually woke up and found you in the kitchen you could tell he knew. You made an attempt to brush it off by saying “I’ll just drink some tea and sit under an air conditioner today.” but you could see Steven and the rest of them in that brain vote no on even letting you get out into your work clothes.

So now you get to wallow in bed and have three personal nurses.

Since Steven was the one who woke up with the body, so he was the one who set everything up. He politely shooed you back into bed, placed extra pillows, called your work for you, made you your tea and breakfast, and brought all that to you in bed with a cold rag and medicine. He also checked your temperature which, of course earned an “Oh, love. That’s no good.” that seemed more like him thinking out loud.

Steven was the one mostly in charge of your comfort and doing things for you when you’re sick. If you wanted an extra blanket, you got one. If your fever rag got lukewarm, he made it cool again. Do you want more water or tea? You got it. Is it too bright? He’ll draw the curtains for you. If anything he was more of a bell boy than a nurse. But it still made him blush a little when you called him that.

Marc was the one in charge of making sure you got your medicine in, and he was on top of it. Apparently, when you were taking a nap after eating breakfast, Marc took the body to go to the pharmacy and get new medicine and vitamins because “The one we have isn’t strong enough.” as if he was able to tell just by looking at you. When he came back, he had you eat some bread, saying “So that it doesn’t mess with your stomach if it's empty already.” and also “It helps it stay down. It has something to stick to.”.

“How do you know all this?” you questioned, to which Marc simply said “Trial and error,”, “Now take the vitamins. It helps your immune system fight it off.” Marc orders. You just shrug and comment “Whatever you say, Nurse Spector.”.

Jake was dead set on making food for you, making Marc go to a whole different market while he was out, just to buy ingredients for the soup he wanted to make you.

“Qué no, Marc. No puedes compras los sopas enlatadas.” Jake said to himself with a laugh. “Mind letting me in on the joke?” Marc asked as he watched Jake cut up the ingredients from the reflection in the soup. “You couldn’t buy them canned soup, Marc. Canned soup doesn’t do it. You gotta make it.” Jake explained, clearly referring to the whole ‘make it with love’ thing. “Well, that’s what we would have,” Marc mentioned. “Because that’s all we got.” Jake said back, “But not for them.” he added as to pointed to where you were resting. “They’d do the same for us.” Jake stated confidently.

When the soup was settled and done, and cooled down enough, Jake brought the bowl straight to you in bed. You thought he was going to bring a little table like Steven and Marc did, but it was clear when Jake kept holding the bowl and took up a spoonful of it and held it towards your mouth. You say his name with a scoff and he smiles. “Come on, mi amor. Steven and Marc got to play nurse today.” Jake teased. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him and let him feed you.

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 14: The Truth About Steven

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @whatthefishh

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary

The boys finally come clean about their past, and their disorder. You take it as well as could be expected.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu (as a deity), talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 2.4k

----

You knocked on Steven’s apartment door, and you could’ve sworn you heard him in there talking to someone before he answered it. Once again he looked different than the man who’d left you sitting in the library just a couple of hours ago. You narrowed your eyes. He didn’t look like the man you’d been meeting late at night outside of your dorm building either. Now his hair was slicked back, face more serious than you’d ever seen it look before.

You’d contemplated whether or not you actually wanted to give him the time of day. After your mental pep-talk, just before Steven had interrupted while you sat at the library, you were ready to let him go. You still thought that might be the outcome, but after everything you’d been through with him, you felt like you had to see it through. You pushed past him in a huff, walking into his apartment like you owned the place.

“For someone who doesn’t care about this girl, you’re wearing an awful lot of cologne compadre,” Jake commented as Marc watched you step inside.

“Have a seat,” he pointed to a chair at the kitchen table, ignoring Jake completely.

Immediately you noticed the distinct difference in accent. You felt a lump in your throat, and you fight or flight kicked in. This was the time to run if you were going to do it, but you decided to stay firmly in place. You held onto the strap of your bag like it would save your life if things went south. Steven had mentioned having brothers, but he’d also mentioned having a bad relationship with them. If this was one of them, you couldn’t be certain you were in a safe situation.

You shook your head, “no, I’m good to stand right here,” you said firmly.

Marc pressed his lips together tightly, “alright…can I get you a coffee or–”

“Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on already, Steven? I’m sick and tired of getting treated like this,” you damned your bottom lip for quivering. You wanted to look strong. “You took my virginity, then you broke up with me, and then you kept sleeping with me at night, now you don’t even sound the same?! Who are you?!”

“I’m not Steven,” Marc said bluntly, keeping his expression stoic.

You stepped back, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. Your breathing became shallow.

“Then y-you’re his…his brother?”

“No,” Marc looked away from you.

This was the time that he’d normally retreat, letting Jake handle the tough situation, but he knew that this had to come from him. Marc ran his hands over his face and then looked back at you again. You were terrified, despite your attempt to keep a strong expression. He could see the way your bottom lip trembled, and the way your chest was heaving.

“You’re really blowing this bruv, are you sure you don’t want me–”

“My name is Marc Spector,” he started, eyes scanning your face to watch for any change in your expression. “I’m not sure how to tell this story so…I guess I’ll start from the beginning.”

Now you sat down, realizing that this ‘Marc’ person wasn’t a direct threat. You put your bag on the floor next to you before crossing your arms, waiting for him to continue. Though you weren’t sure you wanted him to continue. Part of you wanted to tell him to fuck off right then and there and leave the apartment, but you stayed. Love really was a funny thing, forcing people to make the dumbest choices. You felt like you couldn’t go anywhere until you knew what had happened to Steven; your Steven.

“When we were young, we had a little brother. His name was Randall,” Marc started, walking over and sitting in the chair across the table from you. He looked down at his hands. “Ro was…he was the best kind of person; kind, loving,” Marc sniffed out a laugh as he remembered his younger brother, “everything I’m not.”

He looked at you again, you noticed the sorrow etched in his eyes, now glossy with tears. Despite your frustration with Steven and this entire situation, you felt some level of empathy for the man, his expression tugging heavily at your heartstrings. He looked back down at his hands while he continued his story.

“I got him killed–”

“We talked about this hermano,” Jake muttered.

“Jake’s right, you know that’s not true Marc, try again.”

Marc sighed, “we were kids, playing in the rain and we got stuck in a cave. I made it out, Ro didn’t. I was only ten, he was eight.”

“That’s better,” Jake said.

“Our mother, Wendy…” Marc heard Jake grunt at the mention of her name, “she was heartbroken, as any mother would be at the loss of a child,” he let out a deep exhale, “but she blamed me for all of it, ‘you should’ve been watching him, this is all your fault’, she’d say while she…” his voice wavered.

“While she what?” You asked, finding yourself invested in the tale, despite how disturbing it might have been.

“While she beat me with a leather belt,” Marc’s face got even more serious somehow, and you felt a silence lingering in the air with the weight of his words.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, regretting pushing him to finish his sentence.

“It was a long time ago,” he grumbled, looking back down at his hands again, “but I developed what’s called dissociative identity disorder. I guess it was how my mind dealt with the loss of my brother, finding a way to let him ‘live on’ even after he was gone. Taking all the guilt and creating someone within myself that resembled him in so many ways, while still being so unique and not really the same as Ro at all.”

The apartment was quiet again. Marc could tell you were being compassionate by listening, but he could also tell that you were ready for him to get to the punchline. How did this affect you? What did this have to do with Steven? Why the hell had you come there in the first place to listen to some thirty-eight year old man ramble on about his mental health issues?

“Steven Grant is that someone. He’s what you’d call an ‘alter’,” he watched you shift uncomfortably, “when DID was called ‘multiple personality syndrome’, he would’ve been called one of my personalities.”

“Are you serious?”

You dropped your arms down from where they were crossed and rested your hands on your thighs. If you were hearing him correctly, this man, Marc, was trying to tell you that he and Steven were the same. That all this time, you’d thought you were with one man, but really you were with someone else. He was a conman, and you’d never felt like such a damn fool.

“S-so what you go around roleplaying as a British college professor and preying on students just for a fucking laugh?” You felt yourself getting upset at the prospect.

Marc sighed in frustration, “no, it’s not like that, weren’t you listening to me at all?” You could hear the distinct Chicago accent coming out in his frustrated tone now, “I have a mental disorder, Steven is a real person, he is British, he is a college professor…your college professor and the way he feels about you is real.”

“Then what is all this? Hm? Why did he break up with me instead of just telling me the truth?” You stood up, feeling tears threatening to fall. “Why didn’t you just say ‘hey, I’m a fuckin’ nut job who likes taking advantage of stupid girls in my class’?”

“What in the hell is your problem? Huh? I’m trying to open up to you here, which let me tell you little girl, isn’t something I do often.” Marc stood up now, brow furrowed while he stepped closer to you. “After Steven broke up with you, I thought everything was going to just go away quietly, but you just had to keep it going didn’t you?!”

“I missed him!” You said in your defense.

The tears started coming down then, trickling over your cheeks. You felt embarrassed.

“No, you fucked your professor like an idiot, and didn’t think about the fuckin’ consequences because you’re young and naive,” Marc got closer to you, and with every step he took, you took a one back.

“Stop talking to me like I’m a kid, I know I made a mistake, alright? But that doesn’t change the fact that you could’ve, or Steven or…” you grumbled, “whoever the hell could’ve just stopped! If you didn’t want it that bad then you could’ve just stopped!”

Marc formed a hard line with his mouth in his aggravation.

“I tried to stop them, but Jake and Steven just had to have you. They couldn’t just leave you well enough alone. I didn’t even want to have this conversation with you but they insisted!”

Your heart stopped, and your voice got quiet again, “Jake? Who the fuck is Jake?”

To hear you talk about him like you had no idea who he was hurt Jake’s feelings, if he was being honest. It wasn’t surprising, of course, there was no way you could’ve known who he was, but it stung nonetheless. Marc had wanted to tell you about Jake in a calmer way, when you weren’t both throwing jabs at each other in your mutual anger, but it was out now, and he had to work with it.

“Jake is the other one,” Marc said in a slightly more collected tone than before, “he came about during my time in the marines.”

“You said you ‘tried to stop them,’…” you gulped, “what the hell do you mean by that?”

“I tried to stop Steven from seeing you which was…obviously unsuccessful, and Jake…I didn’t even know he was…” Marc couldn’t bring himself to say it. He looked at the empty water glass on the table next to the lounge chair, “Steven, please…”

“On it…”

You watched in disbelief as Marc’s entire body shifted, posture slouching a bit and his expression changing before your eyes. His brow went from furrowed in frustration to being turned up in concern. Either he was an incredible actor, or you were a fool.

“Love, I’m so sorry, I know this is a lot but, it really wasn’t my story to tell. I wasn’t there f’most of our life, neither was Jake so you see–”

“What did you do to me?” You looked at him, trying to decipher how much of what he was saying was real, and how much of it was a lie.

What a convenient excuse it would be to say that he had a mental illness, and that’s why he had to break things off with you. He could blame it on some disorder and make you feel bad for him, maybe even make you fall back into his arms like a pathetic and desperate little girl. If he was a good enough actor, surely he could put on a fake accent and slouch his shoulders a bit.

The other part of you, the part that still loved Steven so much that you wanted to kiss him until your lips went numb, that part believed him. That part believed that there was this man with a mental disorder who was struggling to navigate through his life and somehow you managed to get caught up in it, and he was just as confused as you were in that moment. You weren’t going to let yourself be fooled though…not again.

“Well remember love, it wasn’t me.” He cleared his throat, “right so Jake said that he saved you twice, once at the art gallery when you nearly fell on the steps, and again when you were in the bar alleyway and someone tried to take advantage of you.” Steven scanned your eyes to find the truth in his statement, “did that really happen, love? You must’ve been so scared I…I’m sorry–”

“Keep going,” you cut him off, not wanting any of his sympathy, not after he was the reason you were in that situation in the first place, and not when you were still unsure if he was being honest with you about this disorder.

“Y-yeah, right, well…” he cleared his throat, “J-Jake says he was really only going to give you a ride home but then, you kissed him and…and he tried to say no, but then you just kept pushing and he couldn’t help himself.”

You huffed out a laugh in frustration, “so if what you’re saying is true, Marc is a filthy old man with two ‘alters’ who just can’t manage to keep their fucking hands off a college student who is young enough to be their daughter, is that it?”

“W-well I mean, technically yes, but I wouldn’t put it like tha–”

The tears were freeflowing now, “and I’m just supposed to believe that you, Steven, aren’t just some creepy man who likes to play pretend and fuck his students and that this isn’t some sick and twisted game you’re playing? Hm?”

“Well, darling that’s not really nice to–”

“No, you know what Steven? You can have fun with whatever this is,” you gestured to his body, “I’m done for good. I was going to text ‘Jake’ that anyway, you know, when I thought he was you? I was gonna tell him that I was calling it off because the sneaking around was getting to be too much for me, but this is a whole other mess that I don’t want to be a part of.”

You grabbed your bag off the floor and went for the door while Steven was still stammering over his words.

“Goodbye Steven, or Marc, or whoever the fuck you are.”

Steven stood there as you slammed the door to the flat and left, taking a piece of his heart with you. He let out a heavy breath, clutching his chest tightly.

“Well there you go guys,” Marc’s tone was laced in sarcasm, “still glad we decided to have a chat with her? Hm?”

“Shut up puto…she’ll be back…”

----

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

wrapping up the last three hundred and sixty-five days with a round up of all the 'x reader' fanfiction I have published in 2022. thank you all for all your requests, feedback, reblogs and support over the last twelve months, especially during the 10k month of fic! sharing this love for these characters with you all is such a mental refresh for me, and hopefully I can publish even more fics in 2023. and I hope that you'll love all the new fics as much as you've loved these ones :)

happy new year!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

afterwards (drabble) *** aftercare with bruce.

bend, don't break (oneshot) *** /// the take a reprieve during a party, and take a new step in your relationship.

fear and loving in iowa (oneshot) when you’re injured in johannesburg, bruce blames himself.

fireworks (oneshot) thanks to the frigid air at the top of the tower, you share a tender moment.

first times (drabble) *** having sex with bruce for the first time.

p.s. (ficlet) an unfinished note leaves you confused during your college graduation.

restoration (oneshot) after johannesburg, you have nightmares. bruce provides you with comfort.

BUCKY BARNES:

bedside manner (oneshot) sam calls you to say bucky has been hurt on a mission,and you panic.

early hours (oneshot) *** after a mission, all bucky wants to do is crawl into bed with you.

morning grind (drabble) *** morning sex with bucky.

shards of glass (oneshot) *** /// you share a past, and now bucky's tracked you down to find closure.

CLINT BARTON:

after hours (oneshot) *** clint stops by your office after work to distract you the best way he can.

body heat (oneshot) *** /// the there's-only-one-bed trope in the back of an suv during a blizzard.

bound (drabble) *** clint is really into bondage and you're happy to spoil him.

coffee break (ficlet) there's an avenger bleeding in the bathroom of the cafe where you work.

crossroads (oneshot) clint receives an offer that could change his life & you encourage him to take it.

a delicate hand (oneshot) /// clint attempts to pull you out of a funk by helping you get ready for the event.

green light (oneshot) *** /// you surprise clint with a new toy, and he is very eager to try it out.

hey, you (ficlet) *** /// you receive a note from a certain avenger in the middle of a crowded bar.

in the stacks (ficlet) *** you steal a moment of intimacy in the back of a bookshop together.

respite (oneshot) when you’re hurt on a mission, clint has to convince you to take a breather.

think of me (oneshot) *** /// when you're dragged out for a night, clint has an idea of what to do in the club.

three a.m. (oneshot) /// a knock on your window comes from a certain injury-prone avenger.

we could play pretend (oneshot) you bond over all the little things you miss about being in a relationship.

welcome home (drabble) *** you welcome clint home after he's been away on a mission.

JESSICA JONES:

reprieve (oneshot) she has to drag you out of a dingy bar in the middle of the night.

snooze button (drabble) jessica isn't exactly a morning person.

MARC SPECTOR:

fast lane (drabble) *** /// marc gives you a preview in the car of what to expect when you get home.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

follow my lead (oneshot) natasha offers to teach you how to slow dance.

PETER QUILL:

raincheck (oneshot) /// convincing quill to go to bed isn’t exactly an easy feat.

SAM WILSON:

miss me? (oneshot) you're finally reunited with sam in the middle of the battle of earth.

soul food (oneshot) /// when you’re sick, he ditches his responsibilities just to make you feel better.

STEVE ROGERS:

lost time (oneshot) *** late for your date, steve walks in on you working off your frustrations.

TONY STARK:

afterglow (drabble) *** after care with tony.

as you're told (oneshot) *** /// tony calls you to his office with a new game in mind…

between the sheets (oneshot) *** you've decided to try for a baby, and tony can't wait to get started.

come back to me (oneshot) after tony almost dies, you’re left lost and furious at what just happened.

count (oneshot) *** /// tony is nothing if not a giver. but… he is also a bit of an asshole.

echo (oneshot) /// you’re struggling to forget the past, so you try to bring part of it back to you.

idiot (drabble) *** just an soft, sexy moment between the two of you.

insatiable (drabble) *** the real question is, which one of you is the bigger tease?

mood lighting (ficlet) *** tony spoils you by candlelight.

on your knees (oneshot) *** the idea of having you on your knees is far too tempting for tony to resist.

quick question (oneshot) tony has a question to ask you, battlefield be damned.

red and gold (ficlet) an afternoon in central park lets you appreciate the seasonal color change.

simple pleasures (drabble) *** tony loves nothing more than eating you out.

sober hearts (oneshot) a look at your relationship as it has evolved over the years.

spare key (drabble) *** you give tony a key to your apartment.

subtlety (oneshot) *** impatient, you make use of the ‘emergency stop’ button in the elevator.

warm hands (ficlet) *** the two of you share an intimate interlude out in the snow.

WANDA MAXIMOFF:

hold tight (oneshot) *** /// she loves to spoil you & sometimes that means leaving you a quivering mess.

reflected in you (oneshot) you try on your new uniform, and wanda helps you find your confidence.

spicy sweet (oneshot) *** you plan on surprising wanda, but disaster means a change of plans.

sweetness (oneshot) *** /// wanda loves the way you sound, and doesn’t care who else hears it.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

hands free (oneshot) *** /// you find clint on the phone, and you can’t help but distract him.

player three (drabble) *** /// clint x bucky x you. game night takes a turn when they team up on you to win.

SERIES:

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - more to come...

tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @wittyforachange @lovely-dreamer19 @castieltrash1 @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @ruderavenclaw @enna-core @hearmyharmony @katsies @youralphawolf72 @whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish @hallothankmas @meeksmusic83 @fallinginlovewithqueue @justanothermagicalsara @dragon-chica @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @starrynightsforever @baku-writes @sorryurnotbrucebanner

[romanarose]

Romana my love 😩🤌

I was at a party earlier and my stomach was no bueno ✋️ and I couldn't help but think.. What would the boys do if they noticed you weren't feeling well at a party?

See, I was being stubborn and didn't want to leave even when I felt like shit 💀 so if you wanted to pull the stubborn card to make things interesting, then that would be lovely too 👀

Thank you, love! 💕

AN: I know this isn't probably exactly what you were looking for but I took a lil liberty. I had violent food poisoning a few years ago and fought it all alone. I'm also prone to fainting spells so this is a bit self indulgent. Hope you like anyway!

Also, you don't gotta read the first fucker notices everything. This is just a theme of Marc being perception as shit.

WARNINGS! Sick fic stuff, talk of vomit and references to diarrhea. Nothing too descriptive lol.

Fucker Notices Everything part 2

The lights of the party were starting to throb in your eyes, making you squint just a bit. You force them back open before Marc’s watchful eye notices. Always on alert, this one. You were already tired from the long day, Marc had suggested you two stay home, but you refused, insisting you just need a pick-me-up. You made him stop at McDonalds for iced coffee. And a big mac. It was the big Mac wreaking havoc on your stomach right now.

“Oof” You mumble under your breath before you can stop it. Marc’s eyes were on you in an instant. Fucker notices everything.

“What was that?” He asked, eyes scanning you for injury or pain.

You pause, trying to think of an excuse while dodging his eyes. “Wooulllddd you believe me if I told you I did drugs in the bathroom?”

“No”

You sigh. “It’s nothing Marc, just the usual indigestion McDonalds causes.” 

“You’re flushed.” His hand was on your forehead. When he dropped it, he gave you a pointed look. “And you’re warm. Sweetheart, I told you we should’ve stayed home.”

“I tOlD yOu We ShOuLd’vE- oh hush, you just didn’t want to come because you hate going out. I was perfectly fine until that stupid burger.” You pout.

He softens, wrapping his arms around you. “I hate parties but I like going with you. I like how happy you are when you go out and see your friends. I would never take that away from you just because I was being cranky.”

You started to feel worse, nausea building up. “I don’t wanna miss the fun.” You mumble into his shoulder.

“You won’t be having any fun if you start throwing up in Jessica’s bathroom.” His hand rubbed your back as you felt the flush creep up from your chest, to your neck, to your face.

“Marc, I don’t, ugh, I don’t feel good.”

Marc felt you sway a bit in his arms, feeling suddenly very weak. “Jessica!” He called out for your friend. She hurried over, seeing something was wrong.

Her hand was on your arm assuringly. “Hey honey, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, still in his arms, unable to answer for fear of throwing up.

Marc answered for you. “I think McDonalds gave them food poisoning, can we have a waste basket? I’m gonna take them home.”

Jessica nodded, quickly popping into her room and giving you her trash can. She said she hoped you felt better and sent you off with a bottle of water.

As Marc began helping you down the stairs, your legs began to give out. He noticed it before you did, dropping the trash can on the lawn and caught you, propping you up against the stairwell. Your vision faded out, and all you could hear was the muffled sound of his voice. You didn’t loose consciousness, only focusing on his voice, or what you could hear “Hey, hey honey” He slowly came into view, his hands on your face, keeping you upright. Your face must’ve given some inclination that you were back, his facial features coming into view enough to see him smile warmly at you. “Hey baby, I’m right here.” You realized you were harshly gripping his arm for security. Always there. He was always there. “I’m gonna grab the car, get you home so you can fight this. Stay here.”

You laugh. Like you could even stand.

Before you knew it, Marc was scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to his car where the trash can and water bottle waited for you. You absolutely made use of that trash can. A few times.

Marc brough a pillow to the bathroom floor where you lay in your underwere from a hot flash, unable to leave the bathroom and unsure what end it’ll come out of. Marc laid down beside you for a moment, until the familiar “oh god” left your lips and he helped you sit up, holding your hair back as you threw up again. There wasn’t much left in your stomach at this point, the puke was bordering on bile. 

“I’m so fucking gross.” You mumble.

“Shhhh. You’re beautiful. Even with violent food poisoning.” He draped a blanket over your shivering form. “Here.” He held a bottle to your lips. “Rinse” You swished the water around and into the toilet. He repeated the action .”Now drink, little sips, you can easily get dehydrated like this.” You did as he was told, little sips.

You laid back down on the floor, Marc crawling under the blanket with you. “Marc, honey, go to bed.”

“I am in bed, what are you talking about?” He said, adjusting to the bathroom floor.

“C’mon, I’ll be fine, baby.”

“Shhhhh I’m trying to sleep” His arm pulled you closer.

“Fine” You settle in, pretending you were in your nice comfy bed. You were always thankful for him, every day, in the big and small things. But you were particularly thankful tonight. He would do anything for you, and you would do anything for him. Just as you are almost asleep, a low gurgle in your lower stomach begins.

“Oh fuck” In a moment, Marc has you on the toilet. 

Fucker notices everything.

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

Thank for reading everyone!!! reblogs help a lot and comments mean the world to me!!

Be sure to check out my ongoing Moon Knight fic, Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside, we're on chapter 30 out of 33 total!

[phantomspiderr]

Not A Bad Morning

Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader (ft. Marc Spector too)

Word Count: 2.5k+

Summary: Steven was just trying to have a stress free morning before his job interview but it just seems like everything’s against him

Warnings/Tags: not a lot of warnings really, it’s fluff. Steven has a little self doubt, reader has a dog, just a little meet cute in the park, Marc being soft and helping Steven

a/n: ohhhh Steven my beloved. Yes it's another Steven fic, sorrrrrrryyy. I promise I am working on other things, specifically a tlou fic if anyone is interested👀 also this is probably terrible but I hope you enjoy anyway

*(I orginally posted this last night but something kept happening to the end of the fic where it just kept deleting the last two paragraphs so we've had to make a new post and hope that works)

**any lines all in italics are Marc talking with Steven in case that isn’t clear

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

The morning had not been kind to Steven.

It had started with him somehow snoozing his alarm without even waking up and the water in his shower had run ice cold. Then all his clothes seemed to be in the laundry pile and he had to borrow a pair of Jake’s trousers that he felt were a little too tight for his liking.

It felt like some sick joke when he’d opened the fridge and it was empty; bar some dodgy-looking carrots, out-of-date oat milk, and a single egg—why is there just one egg?? Is it really that difficult to do a food shop??— so he had no breakfast and very little time. He makes a mental note to berate Marc or Jake the next time they show up on body sharing etiquette and making sure there’s bloody food in the fridge.

Steven was slowly losing hope for the day and it wasn't even 10am. He'd tried his hardest to plan the day to the tee. It’s been all he’s been able to think about since he saw the ad for his dream job and had been lucky enough to get an interview for it. He had wanted to make sure it was the least stressful it could've been but it was as if the universe wasn't on his side today.

Now he’s impatiently waiting in line at a local coffee shop, his foot incessantly taps against the floor as he anxiously checks his watch every few seconds.

You have plenty of time.

“Shut up,” Steven mutters quietly, looking off to the side into a mirror where he can see his own—slightly disheveled—reflection. A stranger gives him an offended look as they walk past, “not you-I-sorry!” He turns around to stare at the back of the person in fronts head and tries to act somewhat normal, giving Marc a cold shoulder in the process.

Stop stressing out.

Steven rubs at his temple while willing the queue to move even a fraction of a second quicker.

You’re going to get the job.

This time Steven sighs, this is one of those times he wishes he could just stick his fingers in his ears and hum a tune to drown out Marc’s voice.

Even if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world. We can go somewhere else. It’d be their loss.

There are just two more people in front, he can ignore him just a little longer.

You can’t ignore me forever.

A little more passive-aggressively than he’d normally be, Steven, rummages in his bag for his phone. Then he theatrically pretends to make a phone call.

“Hiya just wanted to let you know I’m fine.” He glances back to the mirror to see Marc with an unamused look and his arms crossed over his chest.

Sure you are.

“No, I’m not stressed.”

Clearly.

“I wish you’d stop saying I was because if anything that stresses me out more yeah?”

The tone in Steven’s voice is one that says he’s on the end of his tether and this time Marc just holds his hands up, not saying a word. Steven softens a little when after a beat Marc just gives him a look that says, ‘you are stressed out and I just want to help.’

“I appreciate you trying to help. I’ll talk to you later.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and gives his alter a final look in the mirror before turning back to see there’s no one in front of him now and the barista is waving their hand at him.

Now, with a fresh cup of tea and a surprisingly good looking vegan blueberry muffin secured, he takes the shortcut through the park to get to the museum on the other side. He went to check his watch, somehow forgetting the cup of hot tea in his hand and almost spilling it on himself. There was plenty of time for him to sit on that bench at the other end of the park, near the lake, where he could calmly enjoy his breakfast before his interview.

The park seems quiet enough that Steven feels comfortable talking with Marc now without worrying about people around hearing him. “You still there?” He asks the question while simultaneously knowing the answer.

Mhmm.

“Do you really think I’ll get the job?” Steven’s anxiety and self-doubt creep out with every word.

I already told you, if you don’t it’s their loss. Marc’s softens after a rather sad-looking Steven catches a glimpse of him in a passing puddle. You’re more knowledgeable on all that stuff than anyone else and you can do that job better than anyone.

“But what if…what if they just don’t like me, like how Donna didn’t?” Steven won’t even look at Marc as he passes another puddle, more interested in the plain-looking pathway below his feet.

Fuck Donna. And fuck them if they don’t like you.

Marc’s voice has an edge to it then before he relaxes again, remembering his goal is to soothe Steven’s anxiety, not make it worse.

Which they will…

…like you I mean!

People find your clumsy nature endearing.

Fuck, I’m not great at this.

The last sentence makes Steven chuckle just a little because Marc may not be the best with words but at least he tries.

As Steven goes to reply his thoughts are interrupted by shouting, for a second he’s so in his head he thinks it’s Marc but it sounds too far away and he looks up just in time to see a big dog bounding towards him. He doesn’t even have a second to react before the dog jumps onto him, knocking his tea completely out of his hand as he falls backward and lands on his ass with a thud. The dog continues to excitedly jump at him and tries to lick at his face despite him squirming as it does so.

“Val!” The shouting continues, this time much closer and it sounds like someone is running, “I’m so sorry! Val get off!” Suddenly the dog is pulled off of him and Steven’s a little dazed by what just happened. He blinks up at you, his eyes squinting because of the sun's brightness. Maybe that’s why he thinks you look like a literal angel standing above him. The sunlight behind you causes your silhouette to be surrounded by a ring of bright yellow light. “I am so so sorry! She’s a friend's dog and she’s just a pup. I’m just walking her while my friend’s away. I’m so sorry the lead slipped out of my hand and she just bolted.”

Either get up or talk please, this is painful to watch.

“Oh.” Steven’s head kicks into gear again and he awkwardly gets back up onto his feet, wincing slightly when he rubs a hand over his now sore lower back. “It’s okay, accidents happen.”

“I’m so sorry, I hope she didn’t hurt you. Shit, you’ve dropped your drink. Here-“ you start rummaging around in your pocket.

“Oh no, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t a great cup of tea anyway.” That was a lie. It cost about £6 and was actually a pretty good tea that he only got on special occasions, like today when the world seems against him.

“I’m so sorry,” your eyes look so apologetic and Steven still feels a little dazed while looking at you. He thinks you look like you belong in a museum, amongst the marble statues and fancy oil paintings. You’re something that should be admired by everyone.

Steven, the attractive person is talking to you and you need to talk back, like now.

Steven barely has a second to form any thoughts before Marc speaks again.

Let me front.

“No!” It comes out before he even properly thinks about it and he tries his best to play it off, “no don’t be sorry. What kind of dog is it?” He tries to shift the conversation so you hopefully don’t think too much about how weird he is acting.

“Oh… she’s a rescue so they think lurcher but my friend swears she’s part collie too!” You’re fondly looking at the dog while Steven observes you for just a second more, “she usually listens really well but apparently, we need to work on not running off and jumping strangers. Huh, Valkyrie?” Both the dog and you look at each other affectionately as you scratch behind her ear.

“That’s a really nice name, it’s from Norse mythology right?” Steven likes it when you smile right at him, a quiet giggle slipping out.

“Uh, yeah. That and I think my friend is in love with the king of New Asgard.” You both laugh this time and Steven thinks it’s the nicest sound he’s heard in a long time.

Then there’s an awkward moment of silence and Steven just doesn’t know how to keep the conversation going or if you even want to keep the conversation going and now he slightly wishes he’d let Marc front. Marc’s always better at flirting with people in regular conversation, he can pick up on certain social cues Steven is blind to. Steven wants to flirt with you, he was just immediately drawn to you and he wants to get to know you so badly, he just doesn’t know how.

Ask for their name or introduce yourself.

Marc’s voice filters through Steven’s self doubting thoughts.

“I’m Steven,” it comes out quickly and forcefully before he can overthink it and his hand flies out in your direction. He can barely look at you his eyes flickering anywhere but at you. That is until your hand slips into his, your hand’s a little cold but it feels nice in his slightly clammy one and he watches your smile grow after you say your name. Quietly he repeats it to himself as a way for his brain to better remember it and he really just likes the way it sounds.

“I’m really sorry again, can I buy you another cup of tea? There’s a cart just down this path that sells hot drinks.” He thinks he’s maybe getting ahead of himself or looking too closely into it but he really likes the idea of spending more time with you. Marc catches him just before he ultimately agrees immediately without another thought.

Steven, your interview.

“Oh sh-!” He reluctantly pulls his hand from yours to check his watch only to see time has somehow run away from him. Now he suddenly has very little time to get to the museum. “I’m sorry I have an interview for this dream job of mine in like ten minutes and it’s probably going to take me that long to run there!”

“Oh.” Is that disappointment seeping into your features? “That’s okay,” just like that it’s gone and you’re smiling at him again, “I owe you a cup of tea then Steven.”

“After?” It comes out a little more like a forceful statement rather than a polite question. He just had to say it before his brain chickened out. Now you’re looking at him confused, quietly repeating the word he just uttered.

Steven, buddy, you gotta say a little more.

“I’m trying,” he quickly mumbles to the side before turning back to you and more cautiously speaking this time, “maybe we could- if you want to-maybe you’d want to-"

Steven, calm, breathe.

He pauses and takes a deep breath, his eyes falling closed for just a second. When they open you’re still there. You’re real and you’re still standing in front of him, curiously waiting on him to speak again. That beautiful smile still gracing your face and he’s lost again, lost in the calm of your eyes on him.

Steven.

“Do you want to meet after?” Marc’s voice reminds him of what he was trying to say and it comes out more smoothly than he expected. Maybe that’s down to Marc being even closer to the front, almost slipping into control of the body for just a moment.

“Oh.” Steven thinks he’s misread the situation—it wouldn’t be the first time—because you look surprised. Just as he opens his mouth to rescind the offer and apologise profusely you speak again. “I-I’d love that,” Steven watches as a grin spreads across your face and he mirrors your expression.

As much as I want to see how this pans out, we’re late.

“Shi-!” Steven checks his watch just to confirm even though he already knows he’s more than late at this point, “I have to go!”

The last thing he wants to do is leave and he awkwardly moves to do so before something else inside him fights it. If this wasn’t his dream job he’d forget all about the interview and just stay here in the park with you. Maybe you could walk around the water and sit with a cup of tea on a bench, and get to know each other better.

“Go! Go!” You’re gently shooing him off so he listens, and forces his feet to move but he keeps looking back at you as he takes the first few steps. Val tugs on the end of her lead, a little cry escaping as she looks at Steven and then back to you.

Wait!

Steven halts abruptly almost falling over his own feet.

Give them your number!

Frantically Steven rushes back over to you, Val now pulling you almost off your feet as she excitedly taps her paws on the ground. How did he somehow forget a crucial part?! He quickly rummages in his bag and pulls out the receipt from the coffee shop, a loose pen, and some crumbs from his forgotten, now squished muffin.

“Here,” he messily scribbles down something that resembles his phone number and quickly decides to add a little note on the end. You delicately take the note when he offers it, smiling as you glance over it before looking at Steven again. His face hurts from how much he’s smiling, “see you later then?” When you excitedly nod he adorably waves as he starts to back away again. Steven walks backward for a second longer than he probably should just so he can admire the way you’re still standing smiling at him too. Reluctantly he pulls his eyes away from you and turns, breaking into a light jog as Marc reminds him they're late once again. Steven takes one last look at you, he’s surprised you’re still standing there reading over his little note with a large smile still plastered to your face.

You did a good job back there.

The small compliment makes Steven feel good. He'd been working hard with Marc on communication. Learning to breathe and formulate his words better in conversation and it seems the hard work is paying off.

Steven takes one final look at you before he speeds into more of a run, his heart now racing for another reason. Even now when he nervously answers the interviewer's question his mind stays stuck on you. He can't stop thinking about how nice you looked or the way you smiled so brightly-

Steven, focus!

[ivystoryweaver]

Moon Knight Headcanons - All Characters

Steven Grant Oblivious Roommate Headcanons 12 parts || CONCLUDED - I called these hc's so they are listed here, but it's honestly just a chaptered fic, so it's listed there too

"Moon Boys + Where They Like to Put it" Steven 720 words || Marc 830 words || Jake 600 words || 18+

Moon Boys listen to you after a bad day 305 words

Moon Boys' Kinks 404 words || 18+

Moon Boys as Dads 682 words

Moon Boys Respond to you Coming Out as Genderfluid 465 words

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday 635 words

Moon Boys Worry When You're Late Coming Home 567 words

Moon Boys Facial Hair Preferences 250 words

Moon Boys Care for Partner with Age Regression 179 words

Moon Boys & a Partner with Partial Hearing Loss 311 words

"Spector Acts of Service" 374 words

Spector Acts of Service part 2: Words of Affirmation 368 words

Marc Spector is Ticklish 240 words

Jake Lockley Dance Instructor 261 words

Jake Lockley Duat/Gods & Monsters 222 words

Spectre Marc Angsty Thots 430 words

"You're Not Alone" - Moon Boys Take Care of You When You're Sick 700 words

Moon Boys' Sex Drives 366 words

Moon Boys Marital Bliss 625 words

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[moonlight-prose]

A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE

a/n: i've been feeling stressed because i can't seem to finish any of my long fics due to writers block or burn out. so i decided to write a small thing for marc spector, because i really miss him and steven. also mainly cause this is my dream romance scenario.

summary: a sunday kind of love...that was all you could have wanted with him.

word count: 678

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: none, fluffy as fuck.

Hints of sunlight beneath the midnight blue hue of the curtains gave way to a combination of warmth and cold. A perfect encasing of the morning afternoon where sleep crept up one’s spine and the scent of coffee from outside wafted through the room. The blanket was too comfortable to remove. Almost as if this was your armor against what remained of the frigid morning air.

An internal war of waking up and slumbering fought in the back of your mind as you cracked open your eyes. Like a cat unwilling to stir from a nap, you slowly allowed all six of your senses to return to you. The remainder of your body, still stuck in the grasp of sleep. A yawn escaped you, tears filling your eyes as you stretched slightly, the curve of your spine cracking softly.

You were unable to fully surrender to the waking world. You couldn’t. The cocoon you were a part of felt too much like the embrace of a lover. While your lover was gone, vanished for the day, you were still in their arms in your imagination.

The door cracked open slightly, the shuffle of someone attempting to walk lightly across the wooden floors, echoed behind you. That small bit of noise brought you out of your sleepy state, eyes opening fully as you fought against the exhaustion that still wracked your body. It turns out working late hours didn’t bode well for your state of being. Rather it left you immobile, barely able to lift your head to see the dark head of hair as he stripped off his jacket.

“Marc?” Even your voice sounded different, far more gravelly than when you were wide awake. Although he claimed to love the sound of you first thing in the morning—claiming he’d never heard anyone hotter.

“Shit,” he mumbled, turning to look at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

A lazy grin spread across your lips, the scent of coffee stronger now. “Mm, did you bring me coffee?”

“Steven’s idea.”

“Bullshit,” you huffed, digging further into the sheets that still smelled like him. “C’mere it’s cold.”

Though you couldn’t see him, you knew he wore a smile as he pulled off his shoes, letting them thump on the ground one at a time. The blankets shifted, his scent now combining with the richness of the dark roast he knew you loved. If you could, you’d bottle it up just to smell it all day, to be reminded of the man who owned every part of your soul. Who promised you forever with the hope that you’d say yes.

As if on instinct, he reached for your left hand, twisting the delicate ring that sat there. The movement made you smile, your eyes fluttering open to see his brown ones watching you with a look that continued to steal your breath each and every morning. The look that made you feel loved and beautiful. Leaning in closer you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Savoring the flavor of the coffee he already sipped.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip.

“I have to get up for work.” The dreaded words that left a pit in the bottom of your stomach.

He still smiled though. “I called in sick for you.” Your eyes opened again, seeing the mischief that you could only claim as Marc’s. “So if they ask you have the flu.”

Sighing, you sunk into his embrace, feeling warmth encase your heart as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Love you,” you mumbled, being lulled by the steady beat of his heart.

“Love you more baby.”

Eventually you’d have to get up, join the sun in its ascent into the sky, but for now you could remain in your own haven with him. Falling asleep to the music of his love, the warmth of his touch. Sunday would come and go, but this was your forever. That alone was enough for you—forever.

[vermillionsails]

Marc Spector Headcannons part 1

I've been playing Marc Spector on a Discord group and have fics in the works for him but, these are the headcanons that my brain decides to come up with and bonk him over the head with the tragedy sick with. There will be a part two of him in a relationship and NSFW stuff related to that. After this, I will be posting my Jake fic so enjoy! ps. sorry for the clickbait gif, I promise there will be suit-related content in the Future.

Quick A/N I'm finally almost done with the Jake fic I'm working on I only have two more scenes to write. then I'll be updating Fountain pen and uppercut. I'll be posting two Miguel o'hara fics after that then ill be working on a Poe fic. that's my line up so far. for anyone that's interested. also, I googled some stuff to try and be accurate to the character. the marc I have in my head also doesn't practice Judaism anymore but Steven does so if the food headcanons leave you confused that's why. Also Tumbler decided it was too long so there will be a second part which annoys me but it is what it is.

Trigger warnings: child abuse, food, music, taking of his life, Military service, and training. NSFW stuff about puberty. That's all I can think of.

childhood

• He is uncomfortable with staring. When Wendy wasn't physical, she would go nonverbal and stare a hole into the back of his head until he would get out of her sight whether it be him running up to his room or getting on his bike and riding to the park.

it wasn't just his birthday that Wendy wouldn't join or get drunk and blame him again. It was every holiday and the anniversary of his brother's death. It even expanded into Wendy going off on him if he was visibly enjoying himself. It has caused him to curb his enthusiasm about things and not want to celebrate holidays.

Bathing/showering was hard for him to get back into after the accident. The spray and the sound of the shower would give him flashbacks to when the cave was filling up. Baths would give him the same flashbacks. It took him months to get to a place where he could clean himself and get out fast enough that it wouldn't send him spiraling. He still showers fast to this day. He doesn't like the sound of rain either.

He has to be quiet. If he was quiet then, he could be in his room and read or play a little bit with his toys. He walks quietly too or won't make much noise still. He accidentally sneaks up on people because of it.

Wendy wasn't hostile all the time, and on those days he would let Steven front unless he wanted the day to himself but that would be very rare. He always tried to protect Steven and take the brunt of it.

He doesn't trust himself to cook, mainly because Wendy would snatch whatever pan or utensil out of his hand and told him that he didn't need to ruin anything else in the house. His dad found out it happened so he would get things for the microwave or have Marc wait until he could cook dinner for the two of them. He only knows how to cook two things.

After his brothers Shiva and Wendy's outbursts, their family members quit hanging around. He would rarely get to see his dad's mom who was the only other woman figure that treated him warmly.

His dad made him go to Hebrew school. He didn't get a bar mitzvah either. His dad would make him go to the temple but after he turned 15 his dad quit asking or making him. He could see Marc lose his faith.

He and his dad would watch replays of Cubs and Bears games late at night as Wendy was sleeping. It was the only time his dad could show affection to him as well. Mostly a hair ruffle or a shoulder squeeze.

Marc was able to do enough to be passing in school, He didn't make friends after everything with his brother and Steven showing up. He couldn't risk spending the night or hanging out and switching. He spent most of his time at the park walking around or reading or drawing sometimes. 

(warning his edgy phase) He was at the park one day and saw a couple of goth kids walk by. He went to the library and looked up what he saw on their shirts and was hooked for a while. He wore mainly black and painted his nails until the bottle ran out. He got a long black coat and a choker too at the thrift store but the choker fell apart a week after he bought it. He tried to dye his hair and give himself streaks but his dad talked him out of it in fear of what Wendy would do to him. 

He would listen to The Cure, Nine Inch Nails, Bauhaus, the sisters of Mercy, Depeche Mode, HIM, Deftones, pearl jam, Alice in Chains, Nirvana, foo fighters, smashing pumpkins, L7, Bush, Incubus, Kittie, slipknot, Korn, Mudvayne, a system of a down, limp bizkit, linkin park, disturbed, Alanis morissette, Green day, he even listened to the cradle of filth and cannibal corpse for a while. 

He used to wear eyeliner. It was only in his waterline but Wendy found the nub of it he had left and threw it away. He didn't rebuy it when he found it in the trash. 

He has a fondness for bugs and the ducks and other waterfowl at the park he was at all the time. He use to draw them with an ink pen.

As a kid during the summer, he used to hide and sneak away from the house during block parties. He would set off fireworks and go trick-or-treating with the neighborhood kids then. They let Marc hang out with them cause they knew what happened to his brother and they didn't mind too much Marc was quiet the whole time. 

Marc had a hyper fixation with sharks. It started with him thinking it could help with his water phobia it didn't but he thinks they're cool creatures and knows a bunch of fun facts about them.

When he was a teenager a girl named Hannah asked him over for help with homework. He generally thought she wanted help. She didn't

He loves adventure and horror books. Stephen King and Jules Verne are two of his favorite authors. He also read Jumanji multiple times as a kid and watched the movie multiple times when that came out

(Puberty stuff ahead) when he started to get pubes he didn't understand why hair grew there cause he didn't talk to his mom or dad so he always shaved it off. He would usually nick or cut himself but got better over time. He didn't realize he could trim or grow it out until he watched porn.

When he explored his body for the first time he had to learn how to be completely silent. He went online and learned how to choke himself so he could be quiet. Over time with partners, he learned he didn't have to do that but sometimes he craves having a hand around his throat. 

Kissed his pillow as practice. He froze the first time a girl kissed him. All that practice went out the window. 

Picked at his skin when he had acne. Still does from time to time but Steven and Jake usually have the most consistent skin routine which lessons it. 

Cucumber melon and lip smackers send him back to high school and middle school. He always thought they were nice smells/tastes. If you wear those around him he definitely would give kisses throughout the day or kiss the gloss/chapstick off. He will smell and or sniff you when he hugs or cuddles you. 

Marc used to wear his shoes out so badly that the souls at the bottom would tear off or his toe would poke through the top. He didn't get brand new shoes until his military shoes and after that. He usually would wear what he could find at thrift stores with the money he got from mowing lawns in the summer. 

From the age of 14-18, Marc would mow lawns during the summer for money. He would go wash off at a truck stop cause he didn't want his room or parts of the house to smell like grass and give Wendy another thing to yell at him for. It usually cooled him off during the summer anyway. 

Before Marc left for the military at 18. He mowed a new neighbor's yard for her during one summer. He didn't understand why she would stare at him until later in life. He doesn't know how to take it to this day. 

Marc was a very awkward flirt at first. Hannah had to teach him how. He was very thankful for it. 

During middle school, he got a girl he had a crush on a sticker she wanted for her collection. She kissed his cheek in return. It made him noticeably flush a shade darker. He still will flush that deep if you kiss his cheek. 

Marc used to steal his dad's cologne and wear it. It was Old Spice. Kids at school would say he smelled old but he liked it anyway.

He bought his bike from a thrift store

Constantly fixed flats with duct tape.

  He used to visit and just sit at Randall's grave. It usually ended with him sobbing saying sorry and telling Randall what their mom would do to him. Eventually, it got to the point where Marc would eat lunch or just sit there after. The groundskeeper would give Marc pop during the summers. 

 Before almost shooting himself in Khonshu's temple. Marc tried jumping off a bridge as a teenager but couldn't do it; he was too scared to end up in the water below. 

Space is a hyper fixation for him along with sharks and baseball trivia. He used to collect baseball cards as a kid. 

Use to spend time in a comic book store and read TMNT comics and other superhero comics. He also used to try and watch Saturday

Morning cartoons before his parents woke up. He got to see a couple of episodes of TMNT, Thundercat's, Transformers, Jem and Holograms, sailor moon, gargoyles, and Gi joe if he was lucky. 

Had crushes on Demona, Pumyra, Jem, Sailor Mars, and April O'Neil

calmer headcannons

he listens to "newer" bands like sleep token, I don't know how but they found me, fallout boy, my chemical romance, and Lorna Shore as he works out. 

His music Tastes got expanded when he was in the military due to his fellow soldiers. 

He didn't have very many video games. He didn't get his game system until his housing after the military. Resident Evil and Silent Hill are some of his favorites. 

Marc didn't realize he and Steven were on the spectrum until the military and their assessments of him. He just thought he was weird

He's decent at masking and learned how to hide his fidgeting. He likes fidget toys he can squeeze or rub. It helps his need to be quiet and helps him focus or gives him something else to do when he's overstimulated. 

He's had a few meltdowns when a schedule has changed out of nowhere or when a spot he likes gets crowded with people. 

Has texture issues with shirts and blankets. If they're not cotton or just soft he won't use them. If he has no other choice he will be very grumpy. 

He zones out big time but it's only when he is comfortable other than that he's on high alert

He likes flying and doing parkour in the suit. Gets adrenaline filled easily after. 

Marc sleeps on his side and cuddles a pillow.

Sneezes loud and takes him a minute to function after

Refused to wear sunscreen and had to be broken out of it. (He got a really bad burn and learned his lesson.) 

Knows first aid and CPR.