#Marc Spector Fan fic

[jake-g-lockley]

Worthy Distraction (Marc Spector x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

A/N: I just wanted to write some Marc Spector fluff to calm my brain. Also Marc Spector’s unruly curls are the love of my fucking life ugh

Word Count: 913 words

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc groans again, running his hand through his curls. This was the fifth or sixth time he had run his hands through his curls in pure frustration as they flopped hopelessly down onto his face. 

You glare at him, the action of him constantly running his hands through his hair has been a worthy distraction, pulling you away from the work that you were doing and sending you staring straight at your best friend. 

His handsome face was contorted into a look of concentration, eyebrows pulled down low and his mouth set into a magnificent frown that made him extra adorable. He was hunching over the book he was reading, finger skimming over the words as he gripped the pencil he was holding with determination.

You had invited him to the library so that you could spend some time with him as well as get your thesis done. The table that the both of you were using had snacks, papers, cups of coffee and books scattered all over it and you were sitting across from him. 

The reality with this whole situation was that you were in love with Marc. You knew a little about his past and you knew about Steven and Jake, but even so, you had found every reason to still let yourself fall in love with him. He trusted you and when he began to open up, you felt him being vulnerable to you and that opened a whole new can of beans in your head.

Besides, you couldn’t deny that your best friend had a face worthy of the gods. He was hot and all you wanted to do was to kiss his nose and the frown line between his eyebrows. 

He raised his hand up to his hair again and you stood up in frustration, slamming your hands down onto the table, scaring him and making him jump out of his seat. 

“WHAT?!” he whisper-shouted, staring at you. 

“Stop doing whatever you’re doing, it’s distracting me!” you whisper-shouted back, pointing at his hair. “You and your stupid hair, it’s just so…”

Your trail of, as Marc blinks up at you, a boyish smile gracing his face. 

“What are you smiling at?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest.

“At the fact that you’re looking at me instead of doing your work?” He answered, the smile somehow turning smug. 

“That’s- That’s the whole point Marc, you’re really just distracting! Why can’t you stop fidgeting?” you said, groaning and rubbing your face with your hands. 

“I can’t help it, my hair is too long and Steven won’t let me cut our hair.” he muttered, doing it again as his curls flopped back down onto his forehead.

“Well, think of something!” you warned giving him a stern look.

“You have to stop being so mean to me, you know? Or, I swear to god…” he trailed off, closing his book. 

“You swear to god what, huh?” you push, putting your hands on your hips.

Marc stood up and walked to where you were standing, tipping his chin down slightly to look at you, making your breath hitch slightly and your glare wavered for a second. He was too close. You could see every detail on his face from this angle, every curve, every stubble and every inch of skin that you’d want your lips on. His lashes were long and his eyebags were prominent but it only made him look more beautiful and rugged. One of his hands cradled your face and the other reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair that curved down from your head. 

“As if touching his own hair wasn’t enough, now he’s touching mine.” you thought as you gazed into his eyes. 

“I swear to god, I will fall in love with you.” he breathed. 

Your eyes widened and your gaze dropped to his lips, wondering if the both of you had the same thoughts. Your theory had been proven correct when Marc took a single step closer and let his lips fall onto yours, tilting his head slightly so that his nose didn’t bump yours. He kissed your lips softly and unhurriedly, ensuring you that he’d give you all the time in this world. 

The both of you pull away slowly and you bite your lip and watch Marc from under your lashes. He was smiling, a light pink tinge covering the bridge of his nose, making him look so kiss-drunk. 

“Damn Marc,” you said, a little lost for words. 

“I had to do it, you just look so fuckin’ hot when you’re frustrated.” he chuckled, kissing your cheek. 

You laugh softly, kissing his forehead, his nose and then his lips for one final assurance. 

“Wait, let me fix your hair.” you mutter, curling a finger under his chin and tipping it up so that you can adjust the mane on his head.

You pulled out a few pins from your own hair and flattened his curls, pinning them in place before holding out your phone for him to see. Marc grins at your masterpiece and you hold out your hand for him to take, leading him back to the bench and tucking his hand and your hand into your hoodie pocket while you get back to work. 

Marc fell asleep after a while, his arms around you and his face slotted into your neck, the soft whoosh of his breath on your skin providing you solace as you typed away. 

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

Tagging my babies: @mintpurplemnm @lia275 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @brekkers-desigirl @romanarose @melodygatesauthor @welcometostayingawake @campingwiththecharmings (also this fic doubles as a present for surviving the MK foot anon)

[melodygatesauthor]

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 10: A Beaten Stone

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

Chapter Summary

The trip back to Khonshu's mansion is painfully long. You learn more about who you are, and why Marc couldn't turn you.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/WarningsNSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 2.2k

It was a long trip back to the mansion.

The return journey took no more time than the trip there, but it felt longer. Marc had been bound in enchanted chains, not unlike the ones Khonshu made you wear back at his home. You recalled seeing him getting into the back of one of the vans just before you were shoved haphazardly into Khonshu’s black luxury sedan.

You’d been blindfolded for the duration of the trip, but now with only an hour remaining – or so the driver reported to Khonshu – he removed the cloth over your eyes. You blinked, the light piercing your retina for a moment before you adjusted to the sight around you. There was a long coast visible through the trees. Waves crashed against stone, beating them down until they were nothing.

“I thought that you and I could talk, sweet one,” he said in a soft tone, one that you knew he used when trying to appeal to you.

You were all out of care for his facade. This, Khonshu, the mansion, his promises, you didn’t want any of it anymore. You’d rather die than remain under his command, especially now that the truth was unfurling.

—

“Please don’t hurt him! I won’t see him anymore! I promise! I’m sorry!” You’d yelled in your room in Ammit’s house, the same night Khonshu had caught you with Marc.

Khonshu had laughed at you, as though your emotional agony brought him nothing but pure bliss. If there was ever a moment you’d seen Khonshu for the monster he was, it was then. He tsked, walking over to you and sitting on the edge of your bed. His hand reached out to rub your calf, a soft gesture for a horrid creature.

“I’m sorry, little dove,” he’d whispered to you, “I know this hurts, but it’s for the best. I can’t have Marc interfering with my plans more than he already has.”

 When you asked him what ‘plans’ he spoke of, he dodged the question.

“I don’t want you to worry about him at all, okay? By the time he’s allowed out of the thirst room, you’ll be long gone and it won’t be your concern anymore.” 

You wondered if he genuinely thought that was supposed to comfort you, or if he just wanted to torment you further by telling you that you would never see Marc again.

—

You remained silent as the car drove along the winding road. You’d hoped your silence would provide a sufficient enough answer. You didn’t want to fucking talk to Khonshu if he was the only thing left on Earth with the ability to speak.

“Fine, then perhaps you care to listen?”

No.

A thousand times, you did not care to listen, but being trapped in a moving car with two vampires and no way to fight, you were left with no other choice.

“You should know that what I said was true, I did save Marc Spector,” he started. You kept your eyes trained at the window. “It was 1935, and he was at an archaeological dig site in Cairo. Did you know he used to be in the marines?”

You didn’t know that. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about Marc Spector, but you’d fallen for him regardless. His past wasn’t particularly important to you. At this point, you both were trapped in the same living hell, and all you had was each other to get through it.

“Well, after he was discharged, he started working for some mercenaries.”

You felt a hand snake around your waist and pull you back against Khonshu’s chest. His large hand rested casually over your stomach. The rise and fall of his chest against your back felt comforting, despite your desire to kill him the moment you figured out how. You relaxed, body going pliant against his while the car continued along the quiet road.

He continued, “When Marc refused to gun down some innocent archeologists, the other mercenaries turned on him, and he managed to drag himself into my temple.” Khonshu laughed, “I’d felt a disturbance at my statue, so I went there at once.”

“What were you searching for?” You asked quietly.

��That’s not important right now. What’s important is that I gave Marc a choice, and he chose this life,” Khonshu’s tone grew very serious. “He would have you think that I tricked him, but I did no such thing. I offered him life, and in exchange, he would serve me. He chose to live so I–”

“Enslaved him,” you interrupted, feeling your body shaking with frustration.

You could hear Khonshu sigh in aggravation, “I. Saved. Him.”

The car became silent for another beat, the two of you rocking in each other's arms every time the driver rolled over a bump in the asphalt. You didn’t know why he was telling you this story, and you didn’t quite care to listen any longer, but you still didn’t have a choice.

“My point is, that as much as you both seem to think that I am hurting you, I encourage you to remember where you came from,” he hissed in your ear.

You cursed the tear that trickled down your cheek. “Why didn’t it work, Marc’s blood?” You asked through clenched teeth.

Khonshu laughed, “I was going to wait until a more opportune time to tell you, but Marc changed a lot of my plans with his…primal behavior.” His hand rubbed your stomach and you felt uneasy. “You, my little dove, are special. Though I’m sure you already know this. Your smell attracts vampires like a moth to a flame and your blood…well, imagine if vampires had a drug for performance enhancement.”

“Like a steroid?”

“Precisely. Your blood is not unlike a steroid for us. You’re able to heal rather quickly as well, have you noticed that?” He trailed a finger up your arm. “I’m sure when you were a child your bumps and bruises would mend faster than your peers, hm?”

You didn’t respond, though you knew his words to be true.

“There used to be several other humanoid species on Earth besides humans. Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, etcetera. Many of them have been eradicated at this point for too many reasons to list, but you, sweet one, your species was plucked from the Earth for being both too dangerous and too advantageous to my species.”

You moved to sit, and to your surprise, he didn’t insist on you staying cradled against him. You looked at him incredulously. If what he was saying was true, and based on the evidence, you didn’t see how it could be a lie.You really weren’t human.

“What am I then?” You asked, furrowing your brow.

“Relax, you’re more of a sub-species of human than a different species altogether.” He chuckled, looking out the window with his cold, dark eyes. “You’re what’s called a hunter.” Your mind was racing, but you didn’t know what to say. “It may shock you to know, but I don’t know who the first vampire was, nor do I know the origins of my kind, butthe other ancient ones and I saw to it that the hunters were removed from existence.”

The realization hit you right away. Your parents…

“My…”

“That’s right, dove,” Khonshu cooed, brushing a finger over your cheek. “I had my knights kill your parents, and anyone else you may have called kin.”

You didn’t feel emotional pain around the people you never knew, rather you felt pain for the girl who spent her life trying to understand why they would abandon her; why she was deemed so unworthy of their affections. You felt a simultaneous relief and ache that you couldn’t shake. It was comforting to know that they hadn’t discarded you carelessly, but Khonshu just told you that his knights had hunted down and killed your parents.

“Marc and Arthur?” You looked into his emotionless eyes.

“Who else?”

“You’re lying.”

“Think what you must for your mental comfort, sweet one, but I assure you, I sent my men on a private mission to kill the last two hunters alive around twenty-one years ago.”

The car was silent again, and you felt like your breath was stolen from your lungs. It was all too much at once, learning that you’re a human subspecies, your parents are deceased, and Marc may have been the one to do it. No doubt he would’ve remembered killing them though, right?

“I told them to kill you too, but you were already gone. It was when I heard that Ammit was searching for the little huntress that my interest was piqued.” Khonshu looked at his nails as though you were discussing the weather or the price of milk. “The blood of a hunter is…” He snatched your hand and pressed his nose against your wrist, inhaling deeply, “intoxicating, but simultaneously it’s invigorating. There’s nothing else like it in the entire world.”

With a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist, he let go, snickering wickedly when you scowled at him.

“Why have you kept this from me? What benefit is there of keeping this a secret? If my smell is so potent then surely the others would know that you have a hunter with you.”

Khonshu’s large hand reached out and touched your stomach. He rubbed over the fabric of your dress, thumb caressing you affectionately. His lips parted and his breath trembled as if he were heady with arousal.

“It was always forbidden for blood hunters to exist in our world. Some thousand years ago they were spreading like wildfire, vampires and hunters fucking like rabbits, spitting out the little cretins left and right.” He smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with cruel mischief. “You wouldn’t believe how many people and children burned when we decided to kill them all.”

“We?” You asked, feeling a wave of terror wash over your skin, making your hairs stand out straight.

“Myself, Ammit, Osiris, Horus, Isis, the majority of your ‘gods’ are supernatural beings that have been around for, well, a long, long time.” He sighed. “The blood hunter genocide was a dark time, but it had to be done. Hunters were already dangerous on their own, well-trained supernatural killers that couldn’t be turned into lycan, vampire, or any other sort of unnatural creature. Your blood is immune to the diseases that plague us with our cursed lives.”

“That’s why Marc couldn’t make me like him…” you looked down at your palms, realizing what this meant.

“You’re missing my point here, my little dove,” he said to you in a patronizing tone you despised. “Blood hunters are the children born of a vampire and a hunter, and they’re dangerous because they cannot die as easily as man. They age remarkably slowly, and they can still lure in a vampire the same as you can, with your delicious scent.”

“Why are you telling me this,” you asked, despite already knowing the answer.

He chuckled, “I’m done with this impasse between myself and Ammit. I’m tired of living in this mansion tucked away at the edge of the world.”

As he said that, the place you called home, Khonshu’s mansion came into view over the hill in the distance.

“I was going to take you myself. Plant my seed so deep in your belly you couldn’t walk for weeks, but I wanted to give her the chance to submit before I create a creature as vile as a blood hunter…but it would seem Marc couldn’t contain himself for that long.”

You touched your stomach. You didn’t feel any different, though it had only been a few days, so you shouldn’t feel different. As if he could read your mind, Khonshu answered your burning questions.

“We have an incredible sense of smell, dove, and you have a scent that is designed to draw my kind in. When you’re pregnant that smell changes, and because your scent is so pungent already, even the slightest change is easy enough for us to sense.”

You felt your palms start to sweat, your heart rate rose and the car felt like it was getting smaller. Everything felt loud, the sound of the car rolling over the dirt road as the driver turned onto the final stretch of the journey, your breath coming out of your mouth, and the way Khonshu chuckled at your distress. You wanted to jump out of the vehicle, and for a moment you fantasized about it, opening the door and throwing yourself into one of the trees that you passed, but you couldn’t do that. You didn’t really want that.

“What are you going to do to Marc?” You asked, finally finding the ability to speak once more.

“My sweet girl,” he said just above a whisper, tipping your chin up so you were forced to look him in the eye. “Marc is going to stay in the thirst room until he withers away, and you’ll be dead long before that day comes, so don’t worry your little head.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[starryevermore]

isn’t she lovely ✧ marc spector

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Hi! This is my first time requesting and I love how you wrote for our moonboys. I notice a lot of fics have Steven meeting reader working at the museum. I was wondering if there could be a situation for Marc or Jake that has a fluffy meeting the first time because I feel like they deserve that. There could be eventual smut but doesn’t have to. - anon

summary: marc has a crush on the girl he always sees at the café.

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

word count: 1,204

warnings?: fluff, meet cute, not proofread

Marc wasn’t fond of spending time in London. He respected it, knowing that Steven loved the city. Steven had a job he loved, a home he loved. He had a reason to stay, and so Marc didn’t push about moving elsewhere. The one time he brought it up in passing, talking about maybe moving back to Chicago one day, Steven got so tore up that Marc dropped it without a second thought. So, Marc kept his thoughts to himself and tried to figure out a way to make London a tad more bearable. 

That’s how he found this little 24-hour café just around the block from Steven’s flat. It was a quaint, little place. It had plush chairs that you could sink into and take a nice, long nap in (which he sometimes did, when he got back late from a mission for Khonshu). The ambient music that played was oddly comforting. The coffee wasn’t half-bad, either. A tad overpriced, but better priced (and better made) than the shit he could get at the nearest Starbucks. Plus, sometimes, he’d get to see the pretty woman who sat in the corner booth, typing away at your laptop, completely engrossed in your work. 

You weren’t there all the time. There really was no rhyme or reason to when you’d be at the café. But when you showed up, you were there for hours, drinking the same drink. A white chocolate mocha, every time. Always just the one that you’d drink the entire you were there. Some days, you finished it. Other days, you tossed a half-empty cup in the trash on your way out. 

Marc felt something like a freak when he watched you. He didn’t mean to. It’s just…You looked kind. You looked like the kind of person Steven would fall head-over-heels in love with. (And, if he was being honest, you looked like that kind of person to Marc, too.) He couldn’t help but wonder about you, about what it would be like to actually know you. He hoped you didn’t notice. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was some creep. 

He didn’t expect you to come in tonight. You hadn’t come in for over a week. (He was more than a little bit concerned, but he wasn’t sure how to check in on you.) But when he walked in, he saw you sitting in your little corner booth, typing away at your computer. Your head lifted when the bell above the door jingled. Your entire face lit up, a smile stretched across your face. You lifted your hand, waving at him. 

Marc looked around, trying to make sure you were motioning at him. It had to be. It was only you, the barista, and him. 

“Yeah, you!” you said. You had a pretty accent. Marc wished he could listen to it all the time. You waved your hand, motioning for him to walk towards you. “C’mere!”

Marc stumbled forward. His feet felt oddly heavy. What the hell was happening? What…What were you doing? Was this real? Was he stuck in a dream world right now? He slid into booth, sitting on the opposite end of you. A thousand questions were on the tip of his tongue as you pushed a drink toward him, but he didn’t get to ask a single one. 

“Americano, right?” you asked. “I’m pretty sure I heard you order that a few times.”

Marc nodded. “I—”

“Oh, good! I was worried that I got the wrong drink for a minute there. One of my friends always gets an Americano, and I thought maybe I got your order switched with hers. I’d buy you another, of course, if it wasn’t right. Wouldn’t be fair of me to make you drink something you hated, would it?”

Steven would love you. Maybe he should introduce you to him. Or would that be weird? He didn’t know you. He had no right to introduce you to anyone. (Besides, Marc loved you more. When was the last time someone thought of him like this?) 

“And then I worried you weren’t going to show up. I haven’t been here all week, so I wasn’t sure if you were in town. Holiday season, you know? People travel, wasn’t sure if you were that type of person. And then I thought, well maybe he is in town but this is the one night he doesn’t show up. I mean, just because you happen to be here the same days and times as me doesn’t me today would be the same, you know? Anyways, I’m so glad you’re here and—”

“What’s happening?” Marc finally managed to say.

Your brows pinched together. “What? Oh, I’m sorry! Got ahead of myself, didn’t I? I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Marc.”

“Nice to meet you, Marc. Anyways, I got it in my head that since we’re always here at the same time, it would be nice to actually get to know each other, you know? Fellow insomniacs unite, or something.” Panic washed over your face. “Oh, shit. I’m not being too presumptuous, am I? Oh, I shouldn’t have assumed anything! I’m so sorry, if you’d like to go back to your regular business and forget this all happened, that’s totally okay! I’m so—”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Marc said.

Your mouth slammed shut. 

“I’m, uh, terrible at small talk, but uh…What do you do? You know, when you’re not hiding out in a café at half-past midnight.”

Your mouth twitched up into a smile. “I think about the cute guy who’s also hiding out in a café at half-past midnight.”

Marc’s heart stuttered in his chest. Okay, Steven may love you if he ever met you, but Marc wanted to keep you to himself. If there was anything that was going to be wholly Marc’s…He wanted this to be it.

“Funny. I think about the cute girl who comes here.”

“A cute guy and a cute girl walk into a café,” you started. “…and, I don’t know. Some funny punchline, I guess. The girl freaks out about his coffee order and the guy totally thinks she’s a freak.”

“I would never think you’re a freak. It was endearing, actually.” Marc swallowed again. He lifted his drink, taking a long sip. “I can’t remember the last time someone just…did something for me. No strings attached.”

“That’s a sad life to live.”

Marc shrugged. 

“Well, every time I come here, I’m gonna get you a drink. Okay? No strings attached.”

Marc paused, a thought popping into his head. He wanted to ignore it, but…Well, it was so tempting. “Actually, I’d like one string attached.”

You raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. 

“I’ll let you get me a drink every time you come in, if you let me to take you out to dinner.”

Your smile grew wider. “Like a date, you mean?”

“A proper date. Fancy restaurant, flowers and chocolates. Maybe a horse and carriage, if I can find one. I mean, this is London, isn’t it? All historical and shit. Someone’s gotta have a horse and carriage business.”

“You know, that would be lovely.”

“Almost as lovely as you.”

[winniethewife]

Thank you @silvernight-m For the most wonderful art of my OC's and their Respective partners.

If anyone is in need of commissioned art Please reach out to Mani, She is amazing and a Joy to work with <3

~

My Masterlist

[marcspectrr]

My favorite genre of mk fanart btw ＼(^-^)／

Shoutout to you talented people @marertossss @leica-tendo @wp-38-rg-p08 @haliaz @hachihachi-888 @lolalikesflora @lawao

Here's a snippet for a fic based on the vibe above :')

TW suicide ideation

'good luck with that'

He'd felt faint.

Unsteady arms reaching through the gritty yet cool sand, unsteady breaths reaching no one ears but his own, unsteady grip on the rifle he'd finally worked off from his back while discarding it somewhere in his pathetic trek.

He'd lost time laying on those sharp steps, staring up, up, up, thoughts of a light polluted sky with Roro's hand in his filling his fading mind. Logically, it was the blood loss, sending his brain down confused paths. Logic was seeping away, though, leaving him right back to those scratchy sheets and blank faces and pills that made anything more than walking hard.

He'd felt...weak.

So weak, weak in the way that slowed his hands as he reached for his pistol, distinctly making him want to pull the trigger even more.

He could do it, finally do it, drag it under his chin and hope the world stops spinning for half of a split second to not throw off his aim, that's all it'd take, that's all it ever took.

He could barely pull it from his holster. The energy it took to merely squeeze his eyes shut was monstrous.

The effort it took to pull in a breath grew with every aching movement. Stillness left a soreness, movement was an agony.

Something strained was holding him back, something faint and weak, just like him, holding him in that timeless moment somewhat relentlessly. A thread, maybe. He'd wanted to cut it.

A merciless thread, tying him down, bounding him to the taunting thought that he wouldn't be able to do it. All the pain and sheer measure of guilt, decades worth, should be enough, yet he's suspended.

Mid-air, faint, weak. Lost.

He gives a shaky laugh at the voice despite it hurting his ears. "Good luck with that."

Unbalanced, untethered from all but one strained and derisive thread.

Eradicated. Seems like a fitting end for him, if end didn't quite mean what he'd always wished it did.

One thread turns into two, then four, then he's suffocating all over again.

Strength pours into him, filling all the cracks and erasing any hesitancy.

His breath hitched as it's torn from him, all the faintness, all in one swift motion, one fell swoop. It's trapping him now, feeding him ceaseless power not meant for him.

The wrappings are tight, scratchy, reminiscent of the way every CO he's ever had left no room for argument, like he was no longer his own, belonged not to himself but someone else.

Wrapped around the finger of a voice that fed him another end, this one just at the beginning.

[atlasscrumpit]

Hiii! If it isn’t a bother to you, can I request for Yandere Marc and Jake with a bratty reader refusing to eat?

Chase

"What if I made your favourite?" Steven suggested as you glared at him.

"I don't want any food, especially not from you." You grumbled making Steven sigh.

"Love, you have to eat sooner or later." Steven said as you turned away from him.

"I would happily starve." You grumbled making him sigh softly.

"Sweetheart, you know what happens when you don't obey us. You don't want Marc to be angry do you?" Steve said as he sat on the side of your bed.

"Do you remember what happened last time?" Steven said as you looked away from him.

"I'll eat if you let me go outside." You grumbled as Steven groaned and rubbed his head.

"Please stop being so frustrating, love. I can't do this again." Steven said as you stood up and backed away from him.

"Yeah? You're frustrated? Must be hard for you, Steven. Must be hard being free, kidnapping someone must be hard!" You shouted as Steven tensed up and you watched, waiting to see if it was Marc or Jake.

You wrapped your arms around yourself until they looked up and smiled.

"Jake." You grumbled as he stood up and slowly walked towards you.

"Come on, puppy. I thought you would be over this by now. Or do you just really enjoy when papi breaks you down?" Jake growled as you narrowed your eyes at him.

You quickly opened the door and ran out as Jake smiled.

"Are we playing tag, little girl?" Jake said before running out into the living room where you were.

"Come on, baby. You know this just makes it even more fun." He said as you backed up against the wall.

"Now, Dove. I'll give you one more chance. Eat your food or papi is going to teach you a little lesson." Jake said as he began to undo his belt.

"Fucking try me." You growled as Jake took off his belt and smiled.

"I was hoping you would say that."

--

"Now, let me ask again sweetheart." Jake said as he towered over you.

You were on the floor panting with tears in your eyes as Jake gripped your hair, making you look at him.

"Are you going to eat?" He asked as you glared at him.

You didn't want to eat, but God you were tired and sick of fighting.

"Fine." You growled before he let go of your hair making you fall forward.

"Good girl, was that really so hard?" Jake said as you slowly stood up.

"Let's just get this over with." You grumbled, stumbling to the kitchen.

"That attitude will be gone soon enough."

[pedroshotwifey]

Badly described WIP poll

Ty for tagging me @nerdieforpedro!! ❤️

Gonna cheat a bit and use some of my idea that aren’t 100% in progress yet

Tags: @kewwrites @princessanglophile @superhoeva @sweetercalypso @survivingandenduring @callachloe @yorksgirl

[bluemoonperegrine]

WIP Wednesday: The Return of the Cawfords

"Moon-Crossed Lovers" is winding down!

-------------------

The late morning sun felt good on Jack’s face and arms as he approached the Cawfords’ oak tree in Bird Park. The crows’ vocalizations ranging from simple calls to the hisses of squabbling relatives brought a wistful smile to Jack’s face. Despite everything, he missed his family.

Jack’s phone buzzed in the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled it out and found a notification of a new text from Marc, who was meeting with Mr. Sader in a nearby cafe. It had required working all Sunday evening and into Monday, but his diligent partner had gotten the translation done. 

“U ok?” Marc texted.

Jack smiled as he sat on the bench under the Cawfords’ tree. He replied, “yes hanging out with the crows. pay attention to ur client. love u bebé”

Marc’s reply was instantaneous. “Ok. Love u too”

Tears welled in Jack’s eyes again. Marc wanted the two of them to take a trip somewhere, traveling either by Air Moon Knight, by airplane, or a road trip. He’d pay for everything, Marc had said, since he’d be a few thousand dollars richer once Sader’s check cleared.

While tempting, Jack knew he couldn’t do more than a day trip or two. The moon wasn’t a factor—it wouldn’t be full for another 12 days—but he needed to reach out to Ana and see if he still had a job. If not, he’d have his work cut out for him.

[boredzillenial]

Writing Masterlist

🥰 : fluff , 🥵: NSFW

🌙 MoonKnight Bingo🌙

🎃 Fawktober 2023 🦇

Series: all 🥵

A Gift Horse and His Mouth: Doctor Strange x afab!reader (Word count: 3k)

You came to Kamar-taj for help with your mental health. Little did you know your dreams would work against you and make things a lot more complicated.

Yes Sir: Part II to "A Gift Horse and His Mouth" (Word count: 2.8k)

Dealing with the aftermath of your dream Stephen has an idea on how to work through some issues.

Attitude Adjustment: William Tell x afab!reader (Word Count: 3k)

A friend of your fathers pays you an unexpected visit you aren’t likely to forget.

One-shots:

🥵Bad Bet: William Tell x F!reader (Word count: 2.6K)

William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

🥵 Sweet Relief: Laurent LeClair X F!reader (Word Count: 1.1K)

Laurent finds you during a difficult time of the month, he wants to help you feel better.

🥵 Stronger Than I Look: Steven Grant X curvy f!reader (Word Count: 2k)

You and your coworker Steven are doing inventory late at night. Being a bigger girl you hadn’t worked up the courage to make a move. But an artifact hidden amongst the trinkets in stock changes things.

🥵 A Simple Arrangement: Jonathan Levy X f!reader (Word count: 1.3k)

Jonathan wakes you in the night for some much needed relief.

🥰 That Damn Smile: Matt Murdock fluff x afab!reader (Word Count: 1.6k)

You’re new to Hells Kitchen and there’s a stranger who’s caught your eye, but you’re not sure if you’ve caught his.

🥰Giftshop Steven: Steven Grant with gn!reader (Word count: 1.4k)

Steven comes to your rescue in the crowded museum.

🥵Caught: Marc Spector x afab!reader (Word Count: 1k)

You get bored while housesitting for Marc and are caught in a rather compromised position.

Drabbles/Thots/Ficlets:

🥰 Drunken Confession: GN!reader X Miguel O’Hara (Word Count: 517)

You snoop around Miguel's office and confess to the "empty" room.

🥵Blue Jones Thots: just some HC and a quick drabble on this very unstable man. gn!reader (WC on drabble: 552)

What I will and won’t write

Messy masterlist for Kinktober 2023 here

[bigbadripley]

Normal People - Prologue

Marc Spector&Co. x Ex!F!OC, F!OC x Husband!Miguel O'Hara

Summary: Two and a half years have passed since Simone lost Marc and consequentially, her place in this world. As she begins to find it; however, the revolving door of tragedy spins again. Violence and liquor become her coping mechanism as she sinks deeper into her darkest era, but Simone learned a lesson years ago: nobody stays dead forever.

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT |   Warnings: Language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. Angst, reference to smut, mention of death, reference to violence, use of alcohol, miscommunications, infidelity, hurt/comfort, established relationship, multiversal and time travel, survivor's guilt, death equivalent

Words: 1.8K

A/N: I'm putting the prologue on Tumblr but the rest and what is to come is on Ao3 here along with the first 2 works (this is the third installment) The first work in its entirety is on tumblr here and most of the second. I won't be posting this work beyond this sample on here.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

" The devil came back He's dancing in your path So you're acting like you need me now, hey So tell me if I'm mad There's something in your laugh That makes me fear the way you smile It's hard to believe sometimes We can pretend we're normal people " -"Normal People" by Joji

It felt like his body was inside of a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Stiff, fighting against whatever held him in place. He could hardly breathe, due to both the weight on top of his chest and the moist soil surrounding his mouth and nose. In the same vein, he couldn't open his eyes or yell for help.

He willed his brittle bones and creaky joints to work again, wiggling his shoulders, neck, arms, and legs to loosen the dirt and reintroduce blood flow throughout his limbs. Once he could feel his hands, he was able to push further, ripping tough grassroots as he freed up space just for it to be refilled by endless earth. His muscles ached already from the efforts, but he needed to be free.

Whilst he struggled against the ground, he started to hear a faint voice over him. It sounded older, and he couldn't make out what they were saying. They continued to speak, uninterrupted by the sound of a shovel sinking and slicing through the land above.

"Don't work too hard, I got you." He was finally able to comprehend the words as daylight peeked through and he pushed the rest of his way out, swiping away at the granules around his eyes. The man who dug him out was George Humbletoes, the mortician who handled his burial arrangements. He looked a bit more gray now than the last time he saw him. "It's about time, Mr. Knight. I was beginning to believe you'd never be back." He said with a wan smile.

Marc began to hoist himself out of the hole, taking note of the brown, dead grass that covered the ground and the flat, moss-grown headstone that read:

Marc Spector

Son ~ Protector ~ Friend

"How long have I been out?" He asked as he sat down and caught his breath heavily. His lungs ached along with the rest of his unused body, even more than normal. George leaned on his shovel and thought about the question for a moment, referring to the date on the gravestone to help with his answer.

"About two and a half years." He said nonchalantly.

Years? Marc thought to himself, nearly saying it aloud amid his huffing and puffing. God, what have I missed?

At first, this wasn't cause for much alarm until his neurons began firing in a way only he could. He thought about the city, Khonshu, Reese-

Moni. He thought to himself, remembering his final interaction with her was shoving her through the gates of Osiris. Forcing her to come back here without him. That was when he didn't think he would be back, himself. It was strange, one moment being in the Field of Reeds and the next being in the dirt with the worms.

Marc began gathering himself to his feet, rickety old bones be damned. He had to find Moni. Had to see what became of the mission in his absence. Two and a half years is a long time to be gone.

"Woah, don't rush. Get your sea legs back first." George spoke with concern, but Marc ignored him and continued to frantically stand and start walking.

"I have to go."

Running through the streets, Marc was able to reach the mission without a word said to him by anyone in the neighborhood. He had his usual white suit on, but the mask was nowhere to be seen. He was covered head to toe in dirt, there were pebbles in his shoes, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach Steven or Jake.

Upon stumbling across the mission, he realized that it wasn't that anymore. It had been repurposed into a Spirit Halloween, which told him it was nearing the holiday.

Nearing Moni's birthday.

This took him to his next stop, being a newspaper stand. The date was October 20th, but that was no longer his greatest concern when he noticed his vestments on the front page, only fitted to a more feminine form. Whoever wore them was pictured hanging 8-Ball from a building by chains wrapped around his body. It was sloppy and could have been accomplished privately just as effectively unless this individual was trying to send a message.

The headline read 'Clinic Burgeler Found!' and off the side, there was a blue box with red text inside that read 'Still No Spidey? See page 7.' Indicating that the web-head hadn't been seen publically in a while. Marc never really cared for the guy, but he was good at his job.

"You gonna buy it or keep gawkin'?" The man running the stand asked. This was Marc's queue to put it back and proceed to his next stop- Moni's apartment. This would prove to be fruitless as well, as when he knocked on the door and a totally different woman with a toddler on her hip answered, he knew she was no longer living there. Asking if the blonde woman knew where the previous tenant went didn't help either.

This left him with one last spot to look, and that was her office. Once he arrived, he was disheartened by the sign on the door that read 'Alias Investigations' , now the office of Jessica Jones and freshly-licensed private investigator Kate Bishop. Last he checked, Jessica worked alone unless he was with Luke.

Marc nearly lost hope there. Moni moved out of her apartment, moved offices, and there were no leads. He had no cell phone or he would try the number he knew by memory.

She may as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. He thought to himself before he peered over at the office next door to Alias to find 'Nelson and Murdock' still stamped onto the glass of the door. The prideful side of him didn't want to speak to Murdock, knowing what he knew now, but it was his only tip.

Hope walk-ins are welcome. He thought as he turned the nob and proceeded inside. At the desk was a blonde woman with the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen, speaking on the phone and writing something down. She regarded him with a smile and a finger in the air that told him she would only be a moment.

His gaze darted around the office and caught the blind lawyer through a window on the left. Marc stormed into the door of the small office space like a bat out of hell, strangely startling the receptionist more than the man in the sunglasses.

"Murdock, it's Marc." He announced, letting the attorney know who he was straight out of the gate. Matt stood, shocked, not only with his being alive but his being at his place of practice. For a moment, he didn't believe it, but the smell of fresh soil and the oh-so-familiar sound of the fabric of his expensive suit confirmed it for him.

" Marc ? How are you alive?"

"I don't know, but listen, I'm trying to find Moni. Can you tell me where she might be right now?" He asked, scrambling for answers. His rushing made Matt stammer,

"Uh, shit. If I had to guess, either at Josie's or her apartment." Matt advised before realizing that Marc wouldn't know where that apartment was. Though, he had been there before, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. "The Rothwell building, quote-unquote luxury apartments."

That bland shithole? Marc thought to himself, making the connection that he had been there, but not the reason. The last thing he caught Murdock say was the apartment number before he bolted out like a man on a mission.

Simone awoke from a not-so-deep sleep, stretching her achy muscles and yawning. Her joints and jaw cracked and popped like she was made of glowsticks.

Another fuckin' day in paradise. She thought to herself as she did every morning. As she attempted to check the time on her phone, picking it up off of the nightstand, she remembered it had been destroyed beyond repair; the screen smashed and revealing some of the mechanisms inside, slightly bent backward at the center. I'll get a new one later.

For now, the shower was calling her name. Once inside, the warm water soothed her sore limbs as it washed away the dried blood that sat on her skin for the few hours she had to rest. As the water around the drain turned pale pink, she examined herself to find that it was the other guy's and not her own.

Once all the residue of the late night and early morning activities was rinsed away down to the bit that had somehow caked under her short fingernails, she got out and toweled off without reason to linger. It was just another normal step in her routine and as she slipped on a pair of tight athletic pants, she was sure of it.

Until there was a loud knock at her door. That part was unusual and made her groan as she threw a loose black top over her bare chest that simply said 'Trophy Husband' on the front in white letters. It was a gag gift, but it was comfortable. The knocking persisted, growing heavier as if the person on the other side was looking to punch it off its hinges. They clearly didn't know who they were getting the attention of.

"I'm coming! Jesus Christ , guy." She yelled out as she heavily trudged to the source of the sound. It made them stop, which was a relief but did nothing to rid her of her displeasure. With that, she swung the door open in an attempt to intimidate them, ready to scold the rude visitor.

Said visitor made her freeze in place with wide eyes like a deer in the headlights. She had faced many enemies as of late, of all sizes and creeds, but nothing made her feel more terrified than what stood before her.

"What the fuck." She muttered with disbelief as she stared at the face a phantom. It was Marc motherfucking Spector, wearing the suit she buried him in. Only he wasn't a ghost. He was very much a physical presence, covered head to toe in soil. It was a dream she had had numerous times and had half a mind to pinch herself if it wouldn't make her look like a chump.

Simone wasn't the only one shocked by what she was seeing. Marc's mind was racing, examining the woman she tossed out of the Duat seemingly the day before. Both of her arms were covered in full-sleeve tattoos and she had chunky strands of silver running through her dark, now shoulder-length wavy hair which was a gift from her mother, who also started graying prematurely. His own observing was cut short by her speaking again,

"Marc? What the fuck !" She exclaimed a bit louder than she meant, backing up out of the doorway and nearly falling as she stumbled.

Zombies weren't on my bingo card for the year. She thought to herself, preparing to fight as the figure before her continued to stare blankly and follow her inside.

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Next to Godliness - Moon Knight

Steven is spending some time at the museum and trying to ignore the bad memories when a young woman who works in another area of the museum arrives and gives him a whole other subject of interest.

On AO3 Here!

Fluffy, Cute, Cutie-Fluffy-Stuff!

Although I wrote it as purely friendship, you can read it as the beginnings of romance if you want to!

Reader insert if you want to, otherwise an OFC. The OFC isn't given any description other than dressing boho and wearing beads and crystals.

Discussions of Paganism - based off my own adventures in Spiritualism and Paganism.

Not Beta'd ;-)

Unfortunately Steven Grant / Marc Spector / Jake Lockley / Moon Knight stuff doesn't belong to me, I just like to play with them!

DO NOT edit or repost my fics to other sites / apps, or claim as your own! Thank You!

Steven has lost track of time. So absorbed in staring at the sarcophagus in the corner of the Egyptian exhibit, the world has ceased to exist around him as the rampant noise in his brain has gradually faded into a strange whirring noise. The bright blues, deep reds, and crisp golds slide in and out of focus as his eyes wander over them. Every time he notices something new, he’s reminded of how old these colours are. Ancient. A real person painted these thousands of years ago. A human being - a living, breathing, human being - picked up a paint brush, dipped it in a dollop of azure, and painted with painstaking precision. A real person who maybe stepped back from the completed piece and assessed their handiwork. Were they pleased with what they’d achieved? Did they huff out a frustrated breath and repaint sections? Did they smile and present their work to their king with pride?

Something in his head and his stomach stirs seconds before he senses a presence appear beside him and he’s sharply pulled from his reverie.

A woman a few inches shorter than Steven, her outfit smart with touches of boho, has joined him at the glass case. Bangles and beaded bracelets clack up and down her arms as she moves, and stones hang around her neck on chords - pink, blue (Lapis Lazuli, Steven recognises it from his Ancient Egyptians), green, clear. There’s a gentle, open smile on her face and her voice is bright but soft.

“Hey, I know your face! You’re Steven, right? Used to work in the gift shop?”

Steven’s adrenaline is already running, but there’s a jolt at the mention of his history with this place. It’s like a painful memory he wishes he could scrub out.

“Um… yeah, yeah I did.” 

“You were wasted in there, should have been a tour guide.” At first Steven feels a spike of fear - is she another person making fun of him? - but her smile is still gentle and genuine, it puts Steven at ease somewhat. He can’t help the flush that rises through his face and neck.

“What, really?”

Her smile widens. “Yeah! I loved watching you tell people things that weren’t written on the displays. It was lovely to have someone else here who was actually passionate about their subject.”

“Right, yeah thanks, appreciate that…” Steven shoves down his unease at the compliment. “You’re from the… Pagan exhibit, right?”

She looks mildly delighted at his recognition. “Yep, that’s me!”  

“Yeah, I always wanted to visit but I never had the time, with work and uh…” Steven found himself trailing off awkwardly. “ - Well I guess I’ve got the time now.” Steven snaps his mouth shut. You donut. 

They’re quiet for a moment, then - “It was Donna, right? The reason you lost your job?” Somehow her question doesn’t make Steven flinch. Her voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of something behind it - anger? Distaste? 

Steven finds himself floundering. “Oh, uh, well, not exactly. I mean, she definitely made things worse but -”

“ - Yeah, when I heard what happened I thought… well it was disgusting what they did to you. The way Donna treated you would give anyone a breakdown -” She suddenly winces “God, sorry, that’s none of my business-“ 

“-no, no that’s… it’s fine.” If it had been anyone else, Steven would have told them where to get off, but he doesn’t find her comments grating. In fact, he finds her anger on his behalf… comforting. 

Quiet falls again. Then -

“Hey I’m on lunch, want to come hang out in my realm?”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

They walk to the very back of the museum, stopping at the cafe to get sandwiches, and when they reach the Pagan exhibit she pulls two chairs out of a cupboard in the corner. She puts them down and gestures around.

“My favourite spot in the whole area. Nebra Sky Disk, lots of Gods and Goddesses… and Donna won’t come in here.”

“Why not?”

“She tried to do to me what she did to you. Then I managed to catch her bullying the poor newbie they put in your job. I filmed her taking the piss out of his stutter. I sent the video to head office.”

Steven feels both satisfaction and frustration bloom in his chest. “What, really?!”

“Yeah! You’d think she’d know better than to mess with a pagan. People have been trying to wipe us out forever, we’ve well and truly learnt to fight back. Me and Faye had a little commune with Hecate for the solstice, see if she could help us with the ‘Donna Problem’. Looks like it worked!”

“He-ka-tay?”

“Yeah, the triple Goddess over there, second cabinet on the right.”

Steven looks around, notices a statue of three Goddesses stood back to back in a triangle. “Triple Goddess? Like, three goddesses together?”

“Yeah, sort of. She has three versions of herself living in one body, and you can ask her to lead with the identity that will be of the most use for your request.”

Steven’s heart rate picks up as he feels Marc’s interest stir in the headspace. “Three - three people in one body? Is that… normal for pagan deities?”

She shrugs, head tilting to the side. Her dreamcatcher earrings dangle at a jaunty angle.

“Not ‘normal’, but it’s not an unusual concept. Many faiths believe that we all have different versions of ourselves, and that as our souls develop, we get to meet them and live with them. Three is the usual number, like with Hecate: the thinker, the lover, and the warrior. And I’m sure you’ve heard of “Maiden, Mother, Crone”? Whichever version is needed the most is the one who sort of controls the physical form while the others guide from the ‘soul space’ as it were.”

Steven is sure she must be able to hear his heart hammering by now. “Do you… Do you believe in that?”

Her face lights up. “Absolutely! I mean, we know there are real people with the same thing. I think they call it an “identity disorder” now, which I hate because the word “disorder” suggests there’s something wrong with the person. And I don’t believe there is.”

Something about her makes him think that she’s at least a bit suspicious about his “quirk”, but she doesn’t seem to be judgemental in the slightest. It makes Steven brave. He tries not to knock his sandwich off his lap as his hands begin twisting in his sleeves erratically.

“You don’t?”

“No. I think they just happen to have been able to access the other parts of their soul, and our world isn’t built to deal with that now. It would have been celebrated back when Britain was a pagan land.”

Steven can only nod, his brain running wild with the new information. They sit in silence for a while as they eat, both staring at the triple Goddess statue. 

Eventually she speaks again.

“Hey… You’re always welcome to come here, if you want. You can just grab a chair from the cupboard and sit for a while.” Her earnest expression matches her tone of voice, and for the first time in a very long time, Steven finds himself genuinely trusting someone. 

“I… What if you’re not here?”

She chuckles lightly. Steven notices she’s rolling one of her crystal bead bracelets between her fingertips. “Oh I’m here most of my waking life. I actually kinda prefer it here, I get to show people my world, y’know?”

He nods slowly. She mistakes his silence for rejection.

“I mean you’re always welcome! Whether I’m here or not, just grab a chair and stay as long as you like! Sometimes it’s nice to sit with the Gods and Goddesses, other times you just need to sit in here and be with it all, y’know?”

Steven finds himself all but beaming at her, her enthusiasm infectious. 

“I’d quite like to learn more about it, if you have the time anytime, sometime-” Marc tells him to stop talking. Steven winces. “Sorry, too many times.” he realises what  he’s just said. “I don’t mean - I mean there would never be too much time spent with you, not that I really know you, but I’m sure-” Marc tells him to stop again, and thankfully she cuts him off this time, her smile gentle and genuine. 

“- hey, it’s ok, I know what you mean - I’d love to hang out more and tell you about my world, and maybe in return you can tell me about your Egyptians? They seem to have some stuff in common with the Pagans…”

Her softness puts Steven at ease instantly. He finds himself nodding enthusiastically at her. “Yeah! Yeah that’d be great! Um, I actually have all afternoon, so..”

She lights up like a Christmas tree.  “Excellent! Let’s start with Hecate, and the sarcophagus you were looking at earlier - there’s a symbol on it that looks really similar to one I saw in a book about sigils…”

[jake-g-lockley]

Happy Birthday, Loves (Moon Knight x reader) | MK Birthday Special

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?

Warnings: Marc being a worried lil babe :(, mentions of the boys’ past, nothing else all FLUFF 

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE, LOVELY, ANGEL BOYS <3 AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSCAR, thank you for bringing my babies to life :)). Moon Knight will always be my favorite superhero and I’ll love my boys till my last breath. p.s. We following the MCU timeline in this so it means that this is set in 2024 :3

Word count: 1.9k 

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc was worried. 

He had been pacing back and forth for a few minutes now as Steven and Jake watched nervously from a nearby mirror. He had nearly gnawed his whole thumb off from the constant nibbling. His mind had been racing, minutely nitpicking at all he has done over the past few days, searching for errors. Marc was sure he had been perfect, keeping all his laundry in one place, cleaning the dishes, taking out the trash and all in all, being a good boyfriend. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong Marc, we’ve been through this.” Steven reassured him, although he himself was not too sure, from the way you had been acting all week, distant and quiet.

You have been everything to them, their entire world. Their lives revolved around you, since the day you waltzed into their lives, all smiles and joy. You were their lucky charm, as Jake would usually say and he would rub you down like you were a rabbit's foot until you would giggle and squeal, trying to get away from his grasp. The three of them loved you in their own special way and they’ve all come to terms with the way they felt for you a long time ago, figuring out that it was best to cave and be loved the way you loved them.

Surprisingly, Marc was the one to cave first, followed by Steven and Jake. He had rejected affection for many years of his life, turning down any form of love he was given, once even from a dog.The truth was that he guarded his heart a little too much, afraid to let loose. But when you came along, he found it easy to love, relaxing in the idea that you would not hurt him the way others did throughout his life, so he handed you his heart and watched as you mended it with your own love.

But here he was, pondering whether he should take his heart back, after how you had been behaving for the past few days. You hadn’t called as much, saying that you were busy at work and busy working on a project that had been assigned to you. You were busy before too, but you’d always find the time to call, or even just text, a small little message to let them know that you were okay and that you love them. You hadn’t come to their flat, choosing to go home after your day of work. 

Marc decided that he was going to cave and call you, although Steven and Jake did object at first, saying that you would be busy, but they craved to hear your voice, to hear you say that it was all okay. Steven decided that they could use a little detour to distract you from the main reason why they were calling.

“Heya, love! Happy International Women’s Day!” Steven chimed and you couldn’t help but smile as you wiped icing away from the corner of the cake’s plate. 

“Hi, baby! Thank you.” 

“So, whatchu doing?” Steven cleared his throat and said, making you smirk, knowing he was stalling. 

“Oh, you know, just working, you?” you licked the icing off your finger admiring your handy work before you.

“Just, umm, reading, at home. Listen, darling, we haven’t seen you for a while, is everything alright?” Steven rushed through his words and both Jake and Marc facepalmed in the mirror.

There it was, the question you had been dreading. 

When it came to keeping secrets, you were the worst person on the planet. It would keep you up all night, squeezing your brain and threatening to spill out of your mouth. This time, you were determined to not let it get the best of you. 

A few weeks earlier, you saw Marc’s passport lying on the kitchen counter. You sneakily wanted to take a peak, just to make fun of Marc’s passport photo, with the knowledge that no one looked good in their passport picture. You were spectacularly proven wrong, as Marc managed to look like a male model again, his chiseled jaw and cheekbones somehow popping through his passport. 

But something else caught your eye, something that you hadn’t dared ask the boys in the few months you had been dating them. His date of birth read 9th March 1987, which would mean that he and the boys would be turning 37 in a few weeks. You panicked, slamming the passport close and  hiding the information in your brain, before silently planning what you could do for their birthday. 

You knew Marc was a little sensitive when it comes to details about his personal life. Unfortunately for him, you were now his personal life, and you decided that you were going to make the whole event as comfortable as possible for your boys. But it only made you overthink and you were nervous, choosing to distance yourself from the boys, hoping that they wouldn’t notice. A pang of guilt grumbled at the pit of your stomach at Steven’s tone and you were so relieved that this was finally going to be over. 

“Yeah, everything is great. Hey, wanna come over to my place today, you know, unless you boys have your own plans.” you quickly asked before you could change your mind.

This perked them all up instantly.

“Sure! I mean, we don’t have any plans, darling, we’ll be there!” Steven said quickly, saying his byes and cutting the call. 

“See, told you it's all fine.” Steven nervously chuckled, running a hand through his curls.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jake knocked on the front door, sniffing the bouquet of flowers in his hand that he picked up from a florist not too far away. You opened the door instantly, a huge smile on your face and a greeting on your lips. Jake handed you the bouquet and swept you off your feet making you giggle as he peppered your face with kisses. 

“Has my beautiful princesa been working a little too hard?” Jake frowned, cradling you close as you tucked your face into his neck. 

You enjoyed Jake’s coddling. It really made you feel like you were his princess and you knew sometimes he was doing it to show that he was the better of the three but you knew better than to pick favorites. Now he was just doing it because he missed you, missed the way you would say his name in a sing-song pattern whenever you’d see him and shower him with your kindness, a kindness he long wanted. 

“Mhmm, I’m so tired, Jake.” you fake a yawn that was pretty convincing as you arched your back and pushed yourself against Jake, making him look at you with hooded eyes. 

Without putting you down, Jake unwrapped the bouquet and placed the flowers in a vase, filling it with water and setting it onto the table. He then walked you straight to your bed, gently placing you down, removing his jacket and shirt before lying down next to you. You cuddled close, relishing in the feeling of your boyfriend beside you after so long. Soon, you could feel a change in the man’s grip, realizing that it was now Marc beside you.

“Hi, baby,” you said with a smile, kissing Marc’s nose as his eyes fluttered close. 

He pulled you closer and you hooked a leg over his hips as he slowly kneaded your hip. 

“I’ve missed you.” you slurred, genuinely feeling sleepy from the comfort they were bringing you. 

“Missed you too, angel.” he whispered, kissing your forehead. 

The last thing you remembered was Steven softly singing you a song before you let go of yourself and melted against you boys, succumbing to sleep.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Pst, Marc, Steven, Jake, wake up, my loves.” you whispered, poking your sleeping boyfriends’ cheek.

They were cute like this, snoring away with their limbs all over the place, at peace with their emotions. You almost didn’t want to wake them up, your heart pounding as you watch the soft rise and fall of their chest. The body stirred a little so you quickly flicked the lighter open and lit the three candles, poking their cheek once more. Soft, sleepy brown eyes met yours and you could see Marc, his confused face making you giggle as you held the cake in front of him. You could hear the clock strike midnight as realization dawned on Marc’s face.

“Happy birthday, my loves.” you whispered and Marc stared at you as if you had grown horns.

It was completely silent for a while, except for the soft crackle of fire and the sounds of traffic from below. 

“You remembered?” Marc asked softly, his eyes filling up with tears.

No one had celebrated his birthday since he was nine. It reminded him of his heartbreak, his grief and most of all, the loss of his mother’s love. A scar on his tummy was  the last gift his mother ever gave him on that last birthday and looking at it reminded him that he shouldn’t be a person, that his existence was completely worthless. But now he looked at you, the candles casting a soft glow on your beautiful face and he couldn’t help but feel forgiven. You reached out and wiped his tears without a question, without a look of pity on your face as you handed him the plastic knife. 

“Marc, you, Steven and Jake have been everything to me. I love all three of you with all my heart and you have no idea how special you three are to me. My beautiful boys, my days would be sad without you and my nights would be pitch darkness, nothing more than a blanket of stars to coax me to sleep. I love all three of you and you boys deserve to have the best day ever.” you whispered as tears flowed down Marc’s face.

“You didn’t have to do anything…” Marc sniffed.

“But I wanted to.” you said firmly, nodding towards the cake. “Make a wish, my love.”

Steven and Jake were wide awake now too, internally sobbing at your gesture of love and wishing the same thing that Marc wanted, to spend the rest of their days with you. Marc gently blew out the candles and kissed your forehead, looking down to admire your cake. 

“Did you make this?” Marc whispered, his eyes tracing the intricately piped letters that spelled out “Happy Birthday MS, SG AND JL.”

“Yea, I had to abbreviate, your names’ wouldn’t fit.” you frowned at the cake, wondering how you hadn’t just thrown the icing bag across the room in a fit of rage when you couldn’t fit their names on the cake. 

“It's beautiful.” Marc’s small smile was enough to calm you down and you curled a finger under his chin and brought his lips to yours, gently kissing him. 

Marc cuts the cake and feeds you a piece and groans at how good it tastes when he takes a bite himself. 

“Shit, baby, you outdid yourself.” Marc set the cake aside and pulled you into a hug. 

“Do we get 37 kisses for being your boys?” Steven whispers and you smile.

“Hmm, let me do the math, there’s three of you, so 37 times three is 111, so I think one hundred and eleven kisses should seal the deal.” you said, counting with your fingers. 

Suddenly you were pinned down and you squinted up to see Jake looming over you with a small smirk on his face.

“I think it's time to start paying up, princesa, the day only has 24 hours.” you giggled, pulling him down for the first kiss of a hundred and eleven. 

“Happy birthday, sweethearts.” you say between kisses, satisfied that your plan worked just right. 

Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous

[melodygatesauthor]

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 9: Betrayed

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

A/N: I've finished writing this series! I'll be posting the final 3 chapters every Sunday for the next 3 weeks!

Chapter Summary

You and Marc are running out of time. You need to come up with a plan...and fast.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 1.6k

You smelled different since Marc had been with you just the other night, and he felt more drawn to you than ever before. 

Khonhsu must’ve noticed it as well. It was obvious with the change in his attention toward you, especially in front of Ammit. Marc observed the way he held onto your hip so tightly, fingers digging into your side a little more possessively than before. Your scent had changed from that sweet aroma to a warm musk, and Marc couldn’t describe the way it made him feel.

Protective? Possessive? As if he would - without hesitation - tear the limbs off of anyone who thought of harming you even the slightest? It’s not like he didn’t feel this way about you before, but something was different now. He felt a deeper…connection. 

Something else had changed. Marc could see Khonshu paying more attention to him, which made his stomach turn. Did he know? Was he biding his time, toying with Marc until they got back to the mansion? Would he stick Marc in the thirst room until you were dead and he’d never see you again? It was as if all the wind had been punched out of his lungs when he thought about that. Your mortality was always on the back of his mind, but he’d never really considered living without you.

He couldn’t fucking live without you.

“Marc!” Khonshu snapped, forcing Marc to jump out of his thoughts and give all his attention to his master. “Out.”

The word was final, strong, and non-negotiable. Without any sort of acknowledgement, Marc left the lounge, which Khonshu had been using as a makeshift meeting room for his own household while on Ammit’s property. In his quarters, Marc stewed, an anxious poison bubbling in his gut at the thought of what may happen if his fears were justified. What if Khonshu knew about what he’d done with you, and what if, as a result, that night was the last chance he would ever have to save you both?

It wasn’t a matter of if, anymore, it was a matter of when he could sneak off to your room and a matter of how hard it would be to convince you that the two of you needed to get out of there immediately. There were several obstacles, but he thought he could figure them out with your help. The only thing that was for certain was the fact that you both needed to leave as soon as possible.

Marc had expected it would be a little more difficult this time around while trying to get to you, now that Khonshu was certainly suspicious of him, but to his surprise, he had no resistance getting to you at all. He wondered if everyone was busy in preparation for the return home tomorrow. You were awake, jumping out of your bed the moment he climbed in through the window. In a mad rush, you both collided, lips and tongues melting into one another through a series of moans. 

“I have to–” kiss “talk to you,” you moaned, breathing heavily in between each peck.

“Me too,” he rasped, pushing you against the wall roughly. “You smell different,” he growled into your neck.

“I know,” you whispered.

Marc hoped you didn’t feel the urgency in his shaking hands while he pulled his pants down to his thighs. You held onto him tight as he lifted you effortlessly, slowly lowering your body down around his dick. You’d neglected your panties. He wondered if you were expecting him to come to you one more time before you both had to leave Ammit’s home. 

You both exhaled out into the room as your bodies connected. Marc’s thrusting was ragged, and he knew it. He was desperate for you, he could feel it in every nerve ending, this intoxicating need to have you. This new scent of yours was driving him mad, and he couldn’t understand why.

“You have to bite me,” he muttered between thrusts, “and do it hard.”

You looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. He’d forgotten that you didn’t know much about his kind, other than their need for blood and the fact that they could live forever. Khonshu was careful about how much he told you and the other livestock in an effort to keep you ignorant and obedient.

“Khonshu is suspicious,” he breathed, “I don’t want to turn you but–”

Marc was cut off by the sharp pain of you biting hard into the side of his neck. He groaned as he felt the skin break. It wasn’t often that Marc felt pain, he liked it though, particularly while his cock was buried deep in your warm cunt. He sighed out a moan, completely engulfed in a feeling of pure pleasure while you drank from him. His hips started rolling harder, as if they moved on their own, basking in the feeling of the agony and ecstasy melting as one.

“Mm, yeah honey, just like that,” he cooed, kissing the side of your neck and trying to keep himself from tearing into your skin as well. 

He could tell you liked the taste based solely on the fact that you were moaning more than usual while you licked at his skin. You shuddered, walls clenching around him as he pushed deeper, fucking into you harder.

“M-Marc, oh-my…”

Your breath caught in your throat and you tilted your head back to rest against the wall while he moved even faster. His orgasm came rushing through his body, hips stuttering until they were flush against yours, cock throbbing and spilling into your gushing cunt. You moaned so loudly Marc thought you might get caught so he clamped his palm down over your bloody lips.

It took several moments of holding you there before you both had calmed down enough for him to lower you to the ground. You wiped your lips and stared at him wide-eyed as if you couldn’t believe what had just transpired.

“God, I didn’t mean to bite you so hard, I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to touch where you’d bitten his neck.

He chuckled, “don’t worry, I heal pretty quick.” He touched the wound. “Besides, we can call it payback for all the times I’ve tried to sink my teeth into you.” Marc pulled his pants back up around his hips. “How are you feeling?”

He tilted your head this way and that, looking for any indication of change. He didn’t understand. Your pupils weren’t dilated as he’d expected them to be, and you didn’t feel feverish to the touch. Turning a human didn’t take long, at least not from what he recalled. 

“I don’t feel different,” you said, a hint of worry in your voice.

“Of course you don’t, little dove.”

Khonshu appeared, like a villain in a movie, sliding in through your bedroom window and striding over to Marc. He grabbed Marc by the throat before he even had a chance to react, holding him high while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Marc held onto Khonshu’s forearm, choking and gasping, trying desperately to keep himself from losing consciousness.

“Sir, please!” You yelled, louder than Marc had ever thought your voice could go.

Khonshu dropped Marc on the floor, leaving him gasping and struggling to catch his breath. Marc could see you backing up into the corner in terror but knew it would get much worse for you both if he tried to stop Khonshu. It was obvious he valued you above any other cattle and wouldn’t kill you, but Marc didn’t doubt Khonshu’s ability to make the rest of your life a living hell if he chose to.

Marc watched as Khonshu grabbed your arm roughly and forced you to the bed, bending you over the mattress. You were brave, Marc noted, hardly making a sound above a quiet whimper while Khonshu pulled your dress aside and stuck two of his thick fingers into your cunt, still slick from before.

“Just as I thought,” he spat through clenched teeth, pulling out his fingers only to reveal Marc’s cum dripping from them. “Marc,” he said as though scolding a child, “to think that my own knight would betray me so. I saved you, Marc Spector, or did you forget?!”

You turned over now, scrambling to put some distance between yourself and Khonshu.

“I didn’t forget,” Marc managed to say as he fought to control his breathing. “But you can’t keep her in a cage like an animal, you can’t keep tricking innocent people into your bullshit cult.”

Khonshu sniffed out a laugh, “and why is that, Marc? Hm? Is it because she smells so good that you’ve changed your attitude toward the cattle trade? Because until I brought her home you didn’t seem to take issue with a free food supply.” He stormed over to Marc.

Marc kept looking to you for a change in your appearance, even the slightest shift in your posture, but nothing changed. You still looked the same as you did on the day he first saw you.

“Why didn’t it work?” Marc asked coldly, looking up at Khonshu from where he still knelt on the floor.

“I know you’re young, Marc, but you’re not a fool.” Khonshu walked over to Marc and grabbed the collar of his jacket. The door to your room burst open to allow several of Khonshu’s guards in. Before they whisked Marc away, Khonshu leaned in to whisper in his ear, “you know our blood only works on humans.”

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[starryevermore]

hello! can i request a fem! reader where she woke up from a really bad dream? and can you do it with marc spector? thanks !

chasing your demons ✧ marc spector

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: hello! can i request a fem! reader where she woke up from a really bad dream? and can you do it with marc spector? thanks ! - anon

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

word count: 536

warnings?: brief mention of marc’s abuse, mention of nightmare, not proofread, 

Marc Spector was a notoriously light sleeper. If anyone ever asked about it, he would say it was because of his time in the military. But, if he was being honest, the light sleeping started long before that. People, the very, very few people, who knew about his mother, would wonder if it was because of her. In some ways, it became worse because of her. But, no, it started long before her, too. No, Marc was a light sleeper because of his brother. His sweet, baby brother whose nights were plagued with nightmares, who would crawl into his bed in search of comfort, who believed there were no dangers in the world that Marc couldn’t keep him safe from. Even after all these years, Marc could wake at any bump in the night, ready to defend his brother from whatever he was scared of. 

Nowadays, though, all that meant was that Marc woke up every few minutes because of the noisy traffic down in the streets, the thumps and bumps of his neighbors, and, occasionally, Steven’s precarious piles of books toppling over, and all those sounds in between. Except, well, sometimes, it didn’t. Sometimes, Marc was called upon to defend those who succumb to the terrors of nightmares. 

When you began tossing and turning, Marc was awake in an instant. He sat up, propping himself up on his elbows, trying to assess the situation. Were you just trying to get more comfortable? Had he accidentally taken your half of the blankets? Were you about to wake up to go to the bathroom or maybe to get a midnight snack? But, then he saw the way your face pinched, the thin beads of sweat, how your breathing was more panicked.

He gave your shoulder a gentle shake, trying to pull you from whatever horrors haunted your mind. You pulled away, your face screwing up more, until another shake finally yanked you out of your nightmare. You woke with a gasp, eyes darting around the room before finally settling on Marc’s worried face gazing down at you. 

“What happened?” you mumbled. 

“You were having a nightmare,” Marc said. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Wanna talk about it?”

You were quiet for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, before saying, “I was dreaming that Khonshu made you go another a mission, but you didn’t have that healing power anymore, so when you got attacked—”

You choked on a sob. Marc was quick to gather you in his arms, pressing your face against his chest, rubbing your back. “Shh,” he whispered, “it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He held you, cradling you against his chest, until your cries quieted into sniffles, your breathing returning to normal. When he was sure you were calm, he asked, “Do you want to try to go back to sleep again?”

You shook your head. 

“Okay. How about we put on a movie and watch that until you’re ready to sleep again?”

You bit on your lip, before nodding. “Can we talk The Devil Wears Prada?”

Marc smiled slightly. “We can watch whatever you want. I just want you to feel safe from your nightmare.”

And he meant every word.

[winniethewife]

Art by @silvernight-m for my fic Eclipsing Love Last chapter comes out Friday!

[frisbs]

Fic requests anyone?

I can write:

Moon Knight (any characters from the show)

Winter Solider, Bucky Barnes

Platonic or healthy canon relationships

Fluff

The darkest depths of angst

I haven’t done fic requests before but fan fiction was always my first love and I’m trying to refocus on writing that brings me fun rather than the cruel world of literary submissions.

P.S. I’m not going to accept anything I can’t handle sensitively. I am fine writing most stuff but not if it seems to promote unhealthy thinking around it. For followers I will put all content under the cut & tag accordingly.