#Moon Knight system is a fine system

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: Who tells the story (Issue 27)

Moon Knight, Issue #27: Cop Killer! 

Opening strong here. I adore any time they do a sky type view down on the city and the characters. 

So opening on Moon Knight watching Jake drive his cab at night is just wonderful. 

....Does that sign on the side say Steven Grant is the writer? 

Let's see what Mr. Grant is writing. 

"August in New York. I hate it. Mostly I hate the heat. That sticky, damp heat that soaks you to the bone and oozes back out your pores. Some August nighs, murder is just another way for people to forget the heat.

This was going to be one of those nights. 

On each of the last six muggy nights, a cop had been killed. Same M.O. in each case. Same markings on the bullets. Too bad no one could find the gun--or any other clues. 

It was a sure bet that the killing hadn't stopped. I --Or rather, cabbie Jake Lockley--was wondering if we couldn't find a way to stop it. 

Oh yeah. They call me Steven Grant. Me and Lockley, we're Moon Knight." 

HOLY SHIT PEOPLE WE HAVE A GRANT STORY TEAM UP WITH JAKE. 

(And let's not forget that Steven later goes on to become a director for Spetor studios in Lemier's run. I am excited people.) 

"One Edge Lockley has over me or Moon Knight--When we need information, he's got the connections." 

Why Steven, you are being generous today. 

We see Jake in his cab pull up to a taxi waiting zone. 

A cop named Richardson is there waiting and Jake calls out to him with corney jokes. 

"Hey! Richardson! What's the going price for a cop these days?" 

"Two years we've known each other, Lockley, two years you've been using that same lousy Joke." 

That's my boy Jake alright. 

Richardson is reading the paper with the headlines about a cop killer being on the loose. 

Jake doesn't like that the cop killer is getting so much press. Neither does Richardson, but the commissioner is making noise to get the killer caught before the copycats start in. 

Jake remarks that it's funny how the killer only picks out the Plain clothed cops and not the ones in uniform. 

"You'd think he'd find easier targets, like uniforms. Must make you nervous, huh?" Jake jabs, considering Richardson is in plain clothes. 

Richardson agrees that it does bother him quite a lot. 

"Like...How the heck does he spot a plain clothes cop? F'r'instance, who could tell from looking which of us was the crimefighter?" 

"Boy! Nobody, I'd think. Maybe you got something there, Richarson." 

Ah, comic humor. 

Richardson heads back to work, telling Jake to be careful out there too. It's dangerous being a cabbie. 

"Richardson had tried to not tell Lockley anything, but he told him enough. It was clear the cops knew more than we did. I wondered what Moon Knight could do with their information." 

GUNFIRE! 

"The shot came from just around the corner. Richardson had gone that way." 

Jake runs towards the sound. 

"In my gut, the part of us that was Marc Spector, the ex-soldier, knew what had happened. He had known that gut feeling in more wars than he could count.  

Spector knew how fate worked. Spector wouldn't have joked about these things. Spector would have known better. 

There are times I wish I hadn't put Spector away.

Then again, Spector would have laughed this off. Lockley and I just felt sick. 

We shouldn't have left the scene, but the cops would have a field day investigating Lockley. His trail would lead them straight to Moon Knight." 

OKAY. There is a LOT going on right here. 

First, Jake makes friends so easily. Everyone is first and foremost a buddy. He’s the friendly man of New York and he knows how to get people chatting. 

Second, they talk about how Moon Knight might know how to use the information Lockley gathers. Another key indicator that Moon Knight is seen as his own separate person now. 

Jake, Steven, and Moon Knight seem to have come to an understanding and are starting to actually work as a functional system. This is pretty big news! 

It also shows that they have sorted out roles. 

Finally, we can’t overlook the way Steven talks about Marc. He addresses the fact that Marc knows how things like this work. Marc expects death and ill-fate. He also addresses that Marc has faced a LOT of death and loss. So much so that he not only expects it, but he has learned to laugh it off as a defense mechanism. 

And the BIGGEST thing here: There are times I wish I hadn't put Spector away.

I’m standing in a room pointing at this and screaming. Steven has accepted the role as gatekeeper. He has also deemed Marc not fit to run the body and ‘put him away’. Time and time again they try to remove Marc from their lives. Marc tries to remove himself from their lives. Steven takes the life from him and refuses to let Marc touch it. Jake will even often fight Marc out of front seat to prevent Marc from doing what Marc does. 

At this point, they all feel that Marc is not something they feel is healthy in their lives right now. Marlene hates him. Marc is self destructive. Jake and Steven feel that Marc is too violent and causes them pain and strife. With Moon Knight acting as the one that can fight, Steven keeping watch on the body and life, and Jake acting as an emotional grounder and spiritual guide, Marc is just not something they need right now. Or so they think. 

ANYWAYS. Back to the story. 

Jake heads home. 

"I called the cops from a pay phone, then beat it back to my mansion on Long Island. All the way I could hear Spector begging to get out. 

He wanted the killer's blood. Lord help me, I wanted it, too." 

Jake’s friend just died. Jake is obviously upset. Marc does not do well when people close to him are hurt. Even if he doesn’t always get along, if something happens to Jake or Steven, Marc is going to want to hurt someone. 

The second Jake walks through the door to the mansion, Steven takes charge. 

He looks for Marlene, possibly wanting some sort of comfort. 

There's a fight going on inside their head and they are in pain. 

Marlene: "Well, well. My favorite schizophrenic. Can't be Moon Knight-You're not dressed for it! WHo are you today. Steven? Jake Lockley? Marc Spector?" 

(NOTE: I had to grit my teeth SO hard at this part. We have entered the era where the Moon Knight system is often going to be called Schizophrenic. Remember everyone, this was written in 1982. Multiple Personality Disorder didn't get an officially recognized diagnosis until 1980. It was often thought of, along with MANY mental illnesses, to be a form of schizophrenia. Prior to that, in 1968 it was listed under 'hysterical neurosis'. It was often thought of as "making up people". It wasn't till 1980 that the term Dissociative was even considered a class of disorders and not at all hashed out. The term was changed to DID in 1994 but was still not fairly fleshed out and still often thought of as just an amnesiac state of the ego. It wasn't till 2013 when the DSM-5 came out that things got updated to current accepted terms and definitions of dissociation. THERE IS GOING TO BE A LOT OF UNFAIR USE OF THE TERM SCHIZOPHRENIA. THIS HAS BEEN A WARNING. It’s also going to paint Marlene is a REALLY REALLY bad light. I’m going to try to give her the benefit of the doubt but fuck is it going to be hard when she outright starts being abusive towards them at times.) 

Marlene takes a playful jab. I don't know... Maybe this is her way of trying? Maybe she's trying to make it a game? 

It does not come off well. 

Steven is not amused. 

"Not Spector! NEVER Spector! This is MY home! I don't want HIM here!" 

Keep in mind that Steven admitted that Marc was worked up and wanted blood. Steven has been holding him off since they found their friend dead in the street. 

It's honestly probably gotten loud in there. Marc demanding to get out and DO something about it while Jake is in pain and sad about his lost friend. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to yell. A man...A Friend...Was killed tonight. Cop. I was thirty feet away. I couldn't stop it. Didn't even know it was happening until it was over." 

Steven is struggling to handle things inside. 

Marlene: "What are you going to do about it?" 

Steven: "Me? Nothing of course. We know what Spector would do--Grab a machine gun and start cutting down suspects until he found the right one!" 

Marlene: "Moon Knight?" 

Steven: "Moon Knight." 

He tells Frenchie to get ready. He wants Moon Knight out there doing something. 

Moon Knight heads to the police precinct. 

It's a hot night in New York and this makes people dangerous. The cops are overworked and understaffed. 

We see a chaotic station of cops asking for backup, dangerous criminals starting a fight in the office, and one cop who claims to be a transfer but no one can find his paperwork. 

As the Sargent tries to figure out the paperwork on the new guy, Mondnacht, the fight gets serious and he has to run out to help. 

The new guy is left alone in the Sargent's office to start looking through files. 

Mondnacht.... Mond-nacht. REALLY? Moon-night. 

"'Pt. Mondnacht' had a whole strategy for getting into police headquarters--and didn't need it. Life's like that. Not that it mattered. Moon Knight had what he wanted." 

Moon Knight now has a list of the duty roster. 

"The plan smacked of Spector, but it was a good one. Find out which cops were handling the case and read their files. The names were on the pilfered duty roster." 

Moon Knight heads to the office of the first name on the list. 

"The empty station house seemed full of ghosts to Moon Knight. Like he was one of them. A ghost. Or maybe it was the air. You don't get these feelings in the sunlight. 

Or maybe it was me, not Moon Knight. Where do I go when Moon Knight takes over? Or Lockley? Or Spector? Maybe WE'RE the ghosts." 

Jumping up and down screaming and pointing people. Look. Look. Steven is starting to ask questions. 

Moon Knight breaks into the office by picking a lock. "One more skill gleaned from Spector." 

Steven wonders where the skills are learned and who can access them. If Marc has a skill and Moon Knight uses it, is it Marc using his skill? How do they share? 

Moon Knight digs through the files and makes a discovery. But he's interrupted! 

The detective is not happy to have Moon Knight there. 

Moon Knight asks him why there are no suspects listed in the case after so many days and so many dead. 

The detective tries to arrest him for interfearing and breaking into the office. 

Moon Knight tells him that he's on his side. 

"Not on THIS case. This is a departmental matter." 

This gets his attention. 

"I wanted the cop to keep talking --But from somewhere, Spector screamed, 'Jump him!' Moon Knight only heard Spector." 

And there he goes… Jumping out the window again… At least Flint wasn’t there this time. Maybe I should start a ‘jumps out window counter too’. 

Moon Knight heads up to the chopter to discuss with Frenchie what he learned. 

"Ever hear of the Kingpin?" 

Oh shit! We got Wilson Fisk people! Moon Knight has officially made it into the Marvel New York Universe! 

"Few people messed with the Kingpin of crime. Fewer lived to talk about it. We had to beat the odds. The files proved that each murdered cop had busted a kingpin operation--and the fat man bore grudges." 

You don't just sneak into Kingpin's building. He's got more security than fort knox. 

So of course Moon Knight....

Right through the window… 

Well, at least Wilson is blunt about it. 

Moon Knight takes out all the goons and demands answers from Fisk. 

Fisk tells him that he bought the cops and had the cases they were working on dropped. 

Moon Knight is pretty upset, declaring that one of the cops was his friend and couldn't possibly be corrupt. 

Fisk doesn't care. He knows where his money goes. 

"My reputation for violence is useful....But there are cleaner methods of dealing with people. MOST men have their prices. I can meet most prices. Your friend and his fellow officers had their prices." 

And Moon Knight makes a rooky mistake. He lets Kingpin get up close to him. 

Everyone always assumes that the fat man is just money and blubber. 

Everyone always forgets just how freakishly powerful Kingpin really is. 

It takes one solid punch from fisk to knock him out cold. 

Luckily, Fisk has more ideas than killing. 

He tells his goons to set Moon Knight free up on the roof. He wants his contacts at the station to give Moon Knight everything he needs to solve the case. 

The cop killer is killing HIS bought cops and he wants the killings to end. 

"Though woozy, Moon Knight heard everything. He feigned unconsciousness as they dragged him up the stairs." 

The thugs drag Moon Knight to the roof. 

"Spector clicked in. He didn't like being knocked around--And he was ready to take it out on anyone." 

He springs up and knocks around the thugs a bit before heading to the copter and taking off. 

Meanwhile, the two sargents Moon Knight was looking into have also just seen the Kingpin. 

They have their orders and are on their way to carry them out. 

As they head out, another car speeds past them at top knotch. 

They call for backup as they give chase. 

Moon Knight and Frenchie catch their radio signal in the chopper. 

Frenchie asks if they should get involved. 

"Sounds like routine business. We have better things to do." 

Steven: "Moon Knight voiced Spector's thoughts. I wanted to get involved. For all his skill, Spector can be so bloody blind." 

We see the Sargents corner the speeding car. They recognize the driver. Just as they are about to ask why he's speeding around so fast, he pulls a gun on them and opens fire. 

The suspect yells "I know what you're doing and I know where you've been!" as he fires. 

So he has been gunning down the crooked cops working for Kingpin. 

One cop is dead, the other frantically calls for help on the radio. 

Moon Knight picks up the signal and they rush over in the chopper. 

Moon Knight arrives too late to stop it.

Moon Knight arrives as the one cop tries to warn him. He manages to get out “Looey”, but it all sounds like gibberish. 

The suspect comes from behind and pulls his gun on Moon Knight. 

"I only want the bad ones. Not you. Investigations don't stop them. Commissions don't stop them. When a cop turns bad, nobody's safe! You know what I mean! I never hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it!" 

As the man rants, Moon Knight quietly reaches for his truncheon under his cape. 

He's too late! When he turns around, the suspect is gone. 

"Moon Knight had failed to stop the killer -- And deep inside, we weren't sure now we wanted to." 

The killer is going after crooked cops working for kingpin. 

Before he can think about it, the police show up. Moon Knight makes a break for it and the cops prepare to open fire. 

A Sargent steps in and tells them all to hold their fire. 

"He has it on good authority that Moon Knight's not our man!" 

And an old partner shows up late, claiming he was stuck in traffic. 

Now, if I know my Moon Knight crime comics, I'm willing to bet one of these men is the killer. Let's see if I'm right. 

Back at headquarters, we see the old partner returning. He's there to fill out paperwork and Moon Knight follows. 

"Don't turn around, De Rais! You gave me a break--and I'm giving you one! I know your secret--and I sympathize. I know what it's like to do evil in the name of good!" 

Moon Knight explains that he knew the matters were a departmental matter, leading him to believe it was a cop that was the killer. He also theorizes that Looey meant Lieutenant, which is what De Rais is. 

He warns him that Kingpin has a man inside the investigation. Since it isn't him, that leaves the Sargent. 

He tells him that the killing must stop. "Stop now, before you're caught -- Or you mke me come after you!" 

And Moon Knight leaves him. 

Of course the guy figures his next move is to take care of the Sargent and then worry about Moon Knight later. 

Steven is...Idealistic. 

"That was supposed to be the end of it. Time would pass and people would forget and the case would go unsolved, like the Jack the Ripper killings. It was clear when I returned to my mansion that it wouldn't work that way." 

Marlene can't believe that they let the killer go. 

"He's not a mad dog, Marlene--And his victims deserved what they got! I found that out!" 

"His motives don't matter! He's still a killer!" 

"You forget--So am I!" 

Marc is still angry and fighting for a say in it all. Steven puts the reigns back on him, but Marc is still pretty upset. 

I find it funny that Steven KNOWS Marc used to box, and when he’s angry and struggling with Marc, he always goes to the punching bag to work out the angry Marc energy. 

We see the sargent return to his home across town. It's a lavish apartment that far exceeds a police officer's payrole. 

He finds an envelope of cash on his table and gets a phone call. He has orders to take out his partner, permanently. 

Sargent calls his old partner, asking to meet him at his place. 

Both men are setting a trap. 

Steven tries to call De Rais but gets no answer. He worries that De Rais is going after the Sargent. 

While looking up the Sargent's number, Marlene takes pause. The Sargent's full name is Louis Fulcanelli. LOOEY! 

So is it the Sargent or is it the lieutenant?? 

Spector wants to go seek out the Sargent's home. Moon Knight decides to head to De Rais's place. 

For once, Moon Knight takes the lead. 

The two cops meet up and Sargent gets the upper hand, holding De Rais at gun point. 

It's all laid out on the table now. Sargent Louie is the cop killer and De Rais is working for Kingpin. 

They argue on who is in the right. De Rais gets the upper hand and takes a shot, hitting Sargent in the shoulder. 

Look at that dramatic entrance. He’s always gotta make an entrance and an exit. 

Sargent cheers that Moon Knight is on his side. 

"We can work together! CLean up the department for good..." 

Moon Knight turns to Sargent. He tells him that after a trip to the hospital for the gunshot wound, he's going to jail. 

"You're a killer...As Bad in your way as the men you've killed... And I have to be better than that!" Moon Knight kicks away the gun and calls the police. 

We jump ahead to a fancy restaurant where Steven is dining with Marlene. 

She asks what happened with Sargent. 

Steven tells her that he was put away under psychiatric observation, though he believes that in a way he is saner than a lot of people and in a way, a good man. 

"You did the right thing, Steven." 

"Too bad the right thing isn't always the decent thing. Well, I can live with that. And if Marc Spector would ever accept it--He might become a whole man again." 

And we end on glasses of wine clinking. 

OKAY. There was a lot in this comic. Like..A LOT. 

Steven narrating (And this is big because we don’t get a lot of Steven’s perspective in the old runs, much less in current runs where half the time they forget Steven exists!), Jake being the good buddy he is and losing friends despite it all, and Marc fighting with Steven and Moon Knight. 

We get Moon Knight acting on his own, but also under heavy influence from Steven and Marc. Moon Knight is a really special case and I’d need to do more research into alter roles and presentation to really speculate what sort of person he is. He’s his own person, but sometimes he seems to act under heavy direction from the others. And I have my suspicions but I don’t feel it’s my place to do a full call out. 

We also have another moral decision on their hands. The choice they were forced to make with Stained Glass Scarlet still weighs heavily on them and not all of them are in agreement that it was the right choice. It haunts them and will continue to do so for a long time. 

Being faced with a killer who is trying to clean up a corrupt department of cops, and the corrupt cops…. The system is at odds on what to do. 

And Steven Grant chooses what he views as the high road. He strives to be better than Marc Spector. He feels like he and Moon Knight and Jake HAVE to be better than Marc, or it was all for not. Sometimes this leads them to go against Marc just to be contrary. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. 

We see Marc argue to do things that could have saved some of the cops, but we also see Marc argue to do some things that lead to deaths. 

Steven is taking the role of Gate Keeper and in his eyes, this means keeping Marc out. He views Marc as a threat to their very wellbeing. Unfortunately, this is also causing strife in the system and inter-system arguments and fights for control. 

We also start to see Steven view Marc as a wounded man that needs to be corrected and healed. He starts to get notions that if Marc can see and start to act in a more just manner without his temper and urge to hurt those that hurt them, then maybe they can heal and become overall a single better person. 

We see what is often seen as a huge controversial problem solve of “Final Fusion” when it comes to DID. I’m not going to get into that. I have my own opinions on it, but it isn’t my place to discuss them without someone that actually has any say on it present. 

Steven believes that Marc can go away and they can start to live as one man that can act justly. He sees Marc as “THE PROBLEM”. And this is going to cause further issues in their system that is just starting to figure itself out. 

We’ll see more of this start to pop up later on. 

Pretty excited about this issue! Hope you liked it! 

[moonyflesh]

[☕️]

Oscar Isaac on his way to the stage (after picking up some hot coffee) of the 2023 Broadway production of “The Sign in Sydney Brustein’s Window”.

I wanna get a cup of coffee with this man SO bad.

[faebirdie]

me seeing all these moon knight fanfics where the boys celebrate christmas rather than hanukkah:

[pimosworld]

Blueberry Pancakes

Moon knight system x f!reader

Summary- You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.

CW-NSFW, 18+ MDNI, Depictions of DID, Smut, mentions of sex, Unprotected piv,fingering,rough sex,slight dom Jake, piv cream pie,cum,light angst, fluff.

Please let me know in the comments if I missed any warnings.

WC-3k

Not beta-read

———————————————————

You slowly blink open your eyes taking in the soft morning light of the flat you share with your boyfriend-boyfriends. You’ve been spoiled by Marc and Steven for a year now and you couldn’t be happier. The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts amongst the flat and you can’t help the bittersweet feeling that consumes you.

Jake makes you blueberry pancakes.

Despite doing all the things a loving, caring boyfriend does- he refuses to front. A simple hi and bye is the most you’ve gotten out of him. It shouldn’t bother you really, you have two wonderful men that kiss the ground you walk on. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t think he deserves to be a part of this the way Marc and Steven are.

You're pulled from your thoughts as the door to the bathroom opens and you're graced with the sight of Marc stalking towards you only wrapped in a towel. His broad shoulders and chest are still dripping with water from the shower. He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You smile up at him feeling slightly guilty. You secretly hope one of these mornings it’s Jake emerging from the bathroom still glistening from the shower, he climbs into bed and fucks you like his life depends on it and you both enjoy those sweet blueberry pancakes together.

“Prince Charming made you pancakes again.” He says sarcastically as he makes his way to the closet to get dressed.

It seems to be a sore subject for Marc as you think back to the first time he made them. Marc excused himself from the table as you moaned into every bite. You didn’t miss the way he glared into his reflection in the toaster while he stood in the kitchen waiting for you to finish.

“You know I love you and you make the best omelet.” You say as you make your way out of bed and wrap him in a tight hug from behind.

“Yes but you don’t sound like we’re fucking when you eat my omelet.”

You nip at his back and smack his ass on your way out of the bedroom. As much as he calls you a brat he definitely has his moments.

You make your way to the kitchen to enjoy your breakfast before you have to head to work. As you sit down to take your first bite you feel Marc’s eyes on you. You look up from your plate and see him with arms crossed and a smirk on his gorgeous face. You cock your head to the side and take a slow bite stifling a moan, because now is not the time.

“Are you going to watch me eat the whole thing?” You say playfully as you watch him make his way to the coffee maker that Jake got ready for Marc-because you prefer tea.

He doesn’t respond right away so you think this is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been bothering you.

“Why won’t he spend time with me?”

Marc groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I’ve already told you, please just leave it alone.”

“Is he listening now?”

“No sweetheart.” Yes cariño

“Well if you could tell him, I really really love pancakes.”

“Sure thing.” Marc says with slight annoyance.

****

You turn the key to enter your flat and as you open the door you're greeted with the sight of your boyfriend on the couch pecking at you over the bridge of his reading glasses.

“Hey love.” Steven smiles sweetly at you as he sets his book on the coffee table. “How was your day?” He always directed his full attention at you, as if you were the moon and the stars.

“It was fine.” You say rather unconvincing.

“Oh just fine,that won’t do.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch. “Come have a seat, let's talk.”

You make your way over to the couch and sit down and he grabs your legs placing them in his lap as you lean your back on the opposite arm rest. He takes your heels off one by one and begins rubbing your aching feet.

“I know you had pancakes this morning so the day started off better than fine.” He says jokingly with a smirk on his face.

“Well…that’s just it.” You say slightly embarrassed about what you're about to ask the sweet man rubbing your feet as he does most nights after a long day at work. “Could you help me with something?”

“Depends on what it is but anything for you love.”

“Could you…help me spend some time with Jake?” You say almost at a whisper.

He ceases rubbing your feet and looks at you with those deep brown pleading eyes. “You know how he is…but if it’s important to you I’ll try.”

You sit up enthusiastically and curl into Stevens' side wrapping your arms around his waist in a gripping hug.

“Okay, what does he like to eat?Does he have any favorite hobbies?What kind of shows does he watch? What’s his favorite color?…you realize your rambling like Steven does when he’s giving a tour at the museum, not even giving the poor man a chance to answer.

“Slow down love, one thing at a time.” He furrows his brow deep in thought. “Oh bollocks, I’m afraid I’m no help. I don’t know what he likes to eat, I’m pretty sure his favorite hobby is murder, he barely watches television and…well.” He chuckles to himself.

“What’s so funny.” You say slightly defeated

“Oh it’s nothing, it's just that I’m pretty sure his favorite color is red since he’s practically always covered in it.”

Steven looks at his reflection in the t.v. and suddenly drops his smile. “Right…well that’s about all I can help you with sorry love.” He stammers out quickly.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” He says as he hangs his head. Your sweet Steven has no idea how helpful he truly is.

You slide your hand to his cheek and tilt his head down at you placing a soft kiss on his lips. You sit up to straddle his lap and you can feel him getting hard for you already. As you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to whisper in his ear, you can tell his breath is ragged.

“I’d like to show you how helpful you are, if you’ll let me?” You bite down on his earlobe and hear his breath catch in his throat.

“I’d like that very much love.”

****

It’s Friday night, it’s been three days since Steven helped you-and you helped Steven. You’ve been planning and hoping that what you have in store will draw Jake out of hiding. If not you’ll just have to live with his silent affections.

Steven is relaxing on the couch as you stand in front of your full length mirror putting on the final touches to your look. It didn’t take much convincing to have him spend the night with you if things don’t go according to plan.

You got your hair done that morning, something you rarely treat yourself too. As you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel slightly turned on- this has to work.

You adjust the straps on your silk red dress and smooth your hands down the front. You slide in your strappy red heels that you hope you won’t have to walk very far tonight. You lean into the mirror to apply your crimson red lipstick to match the red you applied to your nails earlier that day.

As you grab your purse and make your way towards the door you can feel Stevens' eyes on you. You don’t dare glance over at him suddenly feeling like a predator's prey.

“Bye love, I’m going out with some friends, don't wait up for me.”

You reach for the door but an unfamiliar voice stops you in your tracks.

“Bebita I don’t think your boyfriends would be too happy about this.” You turn around to see Jake with his eyes narrowed as if he’s studying your movements.

“My boyfriends don’t care if I go out.” Your voice cracks a little and you're suddenly aware of how dry your throat is.

“I didn’t mean if you go out cariño.” He stands from the couch and you suddenly feel very small. “I mean dressed like this.” He gestures his fingers up and down your body.

“Maaarrrc…Steeeeven?” You mockingly call about the flat. “I guess they aren’t here so I’ll be going.”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror next to the door feigning confidence.

“You’ll be staying.” He says in a commanding tone that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.

You grab the door handle and look over your shoulder with the most sultry look you can muster (that you absolutely have not been practicing in the mirror). “Make me.”

He crosses the distance from the couch to you in two steps and pins you against the door with his chest pressed to your back. You can tell you’ve had an affect on him by the way his hard bulge is pressed against your ass. He grips both your wrists with one of his large calloused hands. He leans in close to your ear and breathes in deep.

“New perfume?” He says in a low husky tone.

He licks a stripe up your neck and gently bites down on your earlobe. Drawing a small whimper out of you.

“Not so talkative now are we hermosa? His chuckles reverberate through your body as he slowly draws his fingers up your thigh. He can feel how wet you are through your panties and a low growl from him sends shivers down your spine.

“This wet for me?” A breathy “ yes” is all you can manage as he drags his fingers through your slit at an agonizing slow pace. He starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and you can feel that tell tale sign that you're close to your climax as you clench down on nothing. He knows you're close and he wants to draw this out- you drew him out after all. He ceases his movements and all you can do is whimper.

“Shh it’s ok hermosa I’m going to take care of you.” You try to calm your breathing but he still has you pressed against the door with both hands behind your back.

“Answer my questions and I’ll take care of you.” He says into your ear as his breathing picks up. You give him a quick nod and his grip tightness on your wrist. “Words sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.” He nips at your shoulder with that last word. He resumes his movements dragging his fingers through your slit. “Did you buy this dress for me?”

“Yes.” You answer as he dips two fingers into your soft channel. If not for his grip on your wrists you’d be in a puddle on the floor. “What about these panties, did you buy them for me?” He’s slowly fucking you with his fingers and all you can hear in the flat is your breathy moans.

“Yes.” You say a little louder this time and he presses his fingers on those bundle of nerves inside and you think you might lose your mind.He brings his thumb to your clit as he steadily works you open. He places his knee between your thighs and slowly lifts you up. “Come for me hermosa.” You drop your head back on his shoulder and note down on your lip as you come with a silent cry.

As you come down from your high you realize you’ve never had an orgasm so intense without seeing your boyfriend's face. He slowly puts you down and draws his fingers away and you hiss at the loss.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” He says still with his back pressed to you, his obvious erection putting a strain on Stevens sweatpants.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say in almost a whine not even recognizing your own voice. He spins you around and you can see the hunger in his deep brown eyes, pupils blown wide. He looks very different from Marc and Steven, yet so similar. It takes your breath away how he looks at you like you're his world and also his victim in the same moment.

“I’m sorry about your dress.” He says sarcastically as you look down confused seeing nothing wrong with it. Before you can ask why he takes both hands and rips it down the front as if it was made of paper. “I’m sorry about your panties too.” You close your eyes and prepare yourself for what’s next as you feel a light tug on your hips and the sound of your new red lace panties ripping.

He takes in your form as you're now left in your sheer red bra and strappy heels. One of his hands comes to the back of your head and he pulls you into a bruising kiss, he kisses you like he’s been starving for you. Like if you pull away you’ll disappear. Your hands come to his arms tracing the familiar muscles you’ve come to know and love and this just feels right.

His thick bulge is pressed against your abdomen, as he grinds his hips into you pressing you further into the door. Precum now staining Stevens sweatpants (which you’ll have to hear about later). You suddenly feel very exposed and you slowly push him off you. As you both catch your breath he looks as though he’s done something wrong and your heart aches because you just want the man to be as exposed as you are.

“Clothes off.” Is all you can manage-real articulate.

Jake strips in two seconds flat and your thanking whatever Egyptian god that he didn’t rip Stevens clothes.

You’ve seen this body many times but as he stands before you with his thick cock, tip red and aching steadily leaking precum you feel as if it’s the first time. He backs you against the door again and grabs your face with both hands as he stares into your eyes.

“Tell me again.” He says in a pleading tone.

“I want you to fuck me Jake.”

You yelp in surprise as he grabs your waist and hoists you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He takes his hand and wraps it around his thick cock slowly coating it with your slick just teasing your entrance. You whimper at the feeling as he pushes in and you both moan in unison at the stretch. You drop your head to his shoulder and he’s not moving but you desperately want him too.

You dig your heels into his ass and he groans as his grip tightens on your waist.

“Just give me a moment cariño.” And you almost don’t recognize his voice. You squeeze your core around his throbbing cock and that’s all the moment he needs before he’s thrusting into you at a bruising pace.

“Oh. Fuck. Jake..” your words are punctuated with each thrust as he fucks too against the door.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy is so tight.” He’s quickly falling apart as he slams you down on his cock over and over. “I can’t believe I waited this long to do this.” Your moans in his ear as you hold on for dear life are going to send him over the edge. But not before you. His movements slow and you can feel his thick cock drag through your walls as you drop your head to the crook of his neck.

“Tell me what you want cariño.” He turns his head to see his reflection in the mirror next to the door.

“Fuck me harder Jake please.” You’re practically crying at the sensation as if it’s your first time. He smirks at his reflection and your pleas are all he needs.

“I love when you beg hermosa.” He holds you up with one arm and brings his thumb to your clit as he resumes his pace, roughly fucking you against the door. He can feel your pussy gripping his cock as your slick coats both your thighs.

“Fuck. Me. Right. There.” You're screaming now and will surely get a noise complaint, but you can’t care at this moment you’ve wanted for so long. Your vision goes white as you reach your climax and you're digging your nails into his back as you come undone. That’s all it takes for him before he comes with a choked sound as he’s shooting hot ropes of cum into your quivering channel. He groans in your ear as he slowly rocks his hips up pinning you to the door.

You don’t know how long you stay like that trying to catch your breath as you both come down from your high. It feels like you're floating and you realize he hasn’t put you down but he’s carrying towards the bed. He gently lays you down and you both wince as he pulls out of you. He places a soft kiss on your sweat soaked forehead. He takes off your heels and brings you one of Stevens shirts to sleep in.

“I’ll be right back cariño.” Your smiling to yourself as you watch him walk towards the bathroom.

Sleep is starting to claim you as he makes his way back to you with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your thighs and your swollen folds. He tosses the towel in the direction of the hamper not caring if he makes it. He lays down beside you and pulls your back into his chest wrapping you in a deep hug.

“Shouldn’t you call your friends so they aren’t worried?” He mumbles into your hair.

“Hmm?” Your blissed out brain can’t grasp what he’s talking about. He chuckles lowly to himself.

He’s not sure if you're asleep when he whispers to himself.

“I really really love pancakes too.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[minispidey]

03: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.

03. Everyday she wears pink.

(A/n: your feedback on the last chapter about me writing the moon knight system is so amazing tysm! i referenced mpgis here and more legally blonde. i wanna note that reader has been a lawyer for a couple years now and amazing at it 🤸‍♀️ btw update tags are open!)

warnings: mention of cock, swearing and cursing, mention of blood.

the cock line is from my bubs @ominoose ily

"This isn't just a date. This is a date!" You told yourself as you threw random articles of clothing behind you as you hunted for a specific dress.

You thought maybe you shouldn't wear pink. Maybe you have a pretty dress he hasn't seen you in.

You barely slept due to excitement.

The way he talked and looked at you made you swoon over him. Just thinking about makes you-

You squealed as your leg involuntarily kicked up. You blinked twice in confusion "That is so weird..."

Maybe you were horny.

"Oh gosh, not again. Bad leg!" you scolded your beautiful leg as it kicks up again "Down girl, down! No nasty thoughts about... about... about the hot neighbor across us- no!"

You almost moaned at the though of his lips against yours... You shuddered as you kept remembering the way he looked at you. You laid down in the pool of clothing as you imagined how your little lunch date will go.

As usual, you two walked out of your flat at the same time, discussing where the two of you were going for lunch.

"Wetherspoons..." you parked your pink corvette outside, looking at the flowers decorating the place. Your high heels clicked on the pavement as you walked inside, still in your pink work suit despite planning on changing.

It was a busier day than you thought, but of course lunch time is important.

Your eyes lit up as you spotted Steven, sitting up rather stiff "Stevie!" you smiled as you walked over to his table "Hi, so sorry I'm a bit late. Traffic and all."

But Steven looked back at you with such a loving look in his eyes "It's alright, love. I haven't been waiting long."

The truth is, he thought you weren't gonna show up.

"Have you ordered yet? Gosh, you must be starved." you opened the menu and browsed.

"I haven't." he shook his head, opening his menu as well.

"Cross examination was a success." you smiled "Next week's the next trial with the witness."

Steven didn't know what you were talking about, it was out of context "That's great!" he responded.

"So then he was like no and I was like, you are. Then he was like no but then I was like you are! And he was like, I kinda am. So long story short he's like, totally gay." you said as you looked at your compact mirror.

"Thank gosh I figured it out, because no way can he say my Chanel is so last season when his shirt is so last year. My client was totally bugging, but we figured it out and I, like, totally won that. How about you, Stevie? How's your day?"

Steven smiled back at you "T'was alright, love. Just the usual." he says sarcastically "Donna's been a real-"

"Excuse my language— Bitch? Cunt? Pain in the ass?"

He chuckles "Yes. A pain in the arse, love."

"She always sounds like she's giving you a hard time. You sure you don't want me to talk to her?"

"I don't think it's lawyer-worthy. It's really alright, love." Steven shakes his head "Just another typical day."

"Yeah, which can be classified as workplace abuse."

"Really. I'm fine."

You press your glossy lips into a thin line before sighing "Alright. But if you need someone to represent you in court, I'm your girl." you playfully winked at him.

Steven blushed before nodding "I'll keep you in mind then." a waiter comes up to the two of you and he began to order "-and a cocktail. Uh, how about you?"

"Um, I'll have the Soup of the Day with half a baguette, and Pasta Pomodoro with salmon. And— wait did you say a cocktail?" you blinked twice at Steven "I'll have a cocktail too, thank you."

You smiled at the waiter as he repeated the order to you two before walking away.

"Jeez, Stevie. It's only lunchtime." you giggled at him.

"I-I just wanted something strong."

"Work's really stressful, huh?"

"It really is." he sighed "Working late again tonight. But this uh lunch date is really cheering me up."

Your cheeks felt hot, making you smile "That's so sweet... tell you what, I'll pick you up from work tonight again. I'm working late too anyways."

It was Steven's turn to blush. His hand shakes with his head "You're way too nice. I don't wanna bother you. It's quite overwhelming too." even his ears turned red.

"Steven, you shouldn't turn away blessings." you winked as you giggled. Your cocktails were served just a few minutes later.

"I haven't had a cock in a while."

Steven felt his drink rush to his nose and he quickly grabbed a napkin. He coughs a few times before looking up at you.

"Oopsies, I meant a cocktail." you covered your mouth, smiling "Well, I mean... I haven't had that in a while either."

You took a sip of the drink and Steven stared at the lipstick mark left on the edge of the glass. You always wore a certain shade of lipstick, and it always drove him crazy.

There were times he'd imagine smudging your lipstick... in more ways than one.

After lunch, the two of you laughed as you drove to the museum. Steven just kept falling more and more into your wonderland of pink and diamonds. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, listening to every word you said.

The thing about Steven is that he loves to ramble and talk a lot, and so do you. He knew you were perfect.

"-and I was like, thank gosh I talked her out of buying an orange chiffon scarf. It doesn't suit her spring tones at all! There's a fine line between terracotta and brown."

That evening, your pink corvette was parked outside of the museum, waiting patiently for Steven after a long day of reading case papers. You puckered out your lips to reapply some lipstick before popping and smiling at your reflection.

Your freshly manicured nails tapped on the steering wheel while humming a small tune.

Then suddenly someone knocks on your window.

"Steven?"

He looked like he was roughed up, red staining his clothes, but it's not his blood. It didn't even look like the same clothes he was wearing during your lunch date.

"Oh my gosh, Steven-"

...but that's actually not your main concern.

"-I told you, blue and black as a combo is a total crime against fashion. If it were me, I'd make it law." you groaned, opening the locks of your car "Get in."

His eyes widened but he doesn't respond, only taking the passenger's seat like you commanded.

"Oh, you have a little stain there." you pat the patch of blood using a pink handkerchief with lace trim and your name embroidered on the corner.

He continued to stare at you as you took his hand and placing your handkerchief on his palm "Here. You can give it back to me some other time because I seriously I need to take you shopping this weekend."

You thought maybe he's always tired after work, that's why he's so quiet, like yesterday.

"Maybe I can figure out your color palette so I know what looks best on you. Your shirts are cute, I'd have to admit, but some of them are... meh. No offense but some prints are worse than the last. OH! I know, we'll do a whole shopping day on the weekend. An hour or so won't cut it. I know it's your weekend off, but trust me when I say when your pretty neighbor's a fashionista, your life is gonna change."

Steven looks at you from the mirror's reflection before shifting his eyes towards the body— Jake. Unlike Marc's creepy silent behavior from the night before, Jake actually looks at you as you went on and on.

He even responds with small nods.

"Can we not make this a habit? First it's Marc pretending to be me in front of her, now it's you. I don't need your help with her. Can I please go in my own pace?" Steven tells Jake, but Jake shook his head in a not now kind of motion.

As Jake entered the apartment after waving goodnight to you, he's met with a poor attempt of a glare from Steven "Don't look at me like that, you wanted the girl so I gave it a push."

"I want to do this on my own. Marc doesn't want me to, I don't know about you, but I don't need help. Can I please do it my way? It's all I ask."

"Can you ask her out?"

Steven pressed his lips into a line before letting out a sigh "Give me the body. I'll... try."

"Alright, alright. You go on ahead."

Steven, now in control of the body, swung open the door and he sees you struggling to find your keys. You blinked twice before smiling at him "Hi again, Stevie. My keys are just- ugh, a lot." your keychains jingle as you tried to find the right key.

"Can we go on a date after shopping this weekend?" he blurts out quickly. Steven was red as a tomato "D-Dinner date."

Your eyes lit up and you felt the butterflies in your stomach again "I'd love that! I'll just- oh! I found my key!"

And you also found the key to your locked-up heart.

UP NEXT: the best weekend ever! a date with steven and a little breaking and entering 💅

tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3

[oddballwriter]

Reader fangirling over moon knight not knowing it was steven/marc/Jake? 🎃

Under Your Nose

Warnings: Not much other than the moon boys lying to you and keeping a secret from you. Also the idea of walking alone at night while drunk. 

Author’s Snip: I am so sorry, I literally forgot that this was in my inbox. Sorry for the long wait.

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

Word Count: 764

They found it kind of funny. In a sense. You had no idea that the vigilante that you've been fixating on is actually your boyfriends. You didn't live with them so you wouldn't know that them leaving for something was actually them going on a mission. It also kept you from connecting the dots that whenever they leave, Moon Knight's out and about.

They liked to hear your praise. In a way, you not knowing that it's them made your positive comments more genuine because, to you, Moon Knight was just a crime fighter that you would hear about, and so the influence of them being your boyfriends didn't make way for a bias. There were, however, sometimes there were cases where they barely managed to keep the secret.

One night, there was a gang that the boys had to take care of that put up more of a fight than they thought they would and left the system sore from having to fight back and defend. When the next day came, Steven, who was fronting at the time, decided to pay you a visit. But you were able to tell that he was stiff. When you asked, Steven threw the explanation that Jake was fronting last night and he had done an intense workout. You took it and so it was left at that. "Well, then how about we lay down and watch something so you can feel better, yeah?" you recommend. Steven just nodded with a smile,

Next came the time that you had gone out with friends to a bar and had more drinks than you usually do. You decided to walk to the boys' flat since you were not sober and didn't have a ride, and it was closer to the bar than your place. Maybe you should have texted them as a heads-up to your sudden arrival, but by the time you thought of that you were already going up in the elevator.

When you knocked, there wasn't an answer. Maybe they were asleep, it was pretty late after all. After remembering that they had given you a spare key, you unlock it and let yourself in, trying to be as quiet as you can. But looking around, no one was even home. You figured that maybe Jake was cabbing around town or Marc was on a late-night walk. With that idea in mind, you shot them a text telling them that you were at their place and why before taking a quick shower. changing into some clothes you had there, and promptly falling asleep in their bed.

Marc was there in the morning making you some breakfast. He of course, just confirmed that he was out for a stroll around the block because he couldn't sleep, even though he was patrolling. If anything he seemed more concerned that you walked there alone drunk in the dead of night. "I'm fine. It was just a ten-minute walk here." you shrug off. "Still, I don't like the idea of you walking alone like that when it's dark out." Marc said. "I'm surprised we didn't run into each other to be honest." you remark.

And then there was Jake. He had to deal with getting information out of someone and he figured that the best way was the old 'talk in a chair' way. But as it turns out, that guy was more of a hassle than he thought too. He put up a good fight and actually got him good with a punch to the face that damaged his nose. But they always, lose when it's Jake so he got his way in the end. But when you came over the next day, again, you say the bandage and got worried. "It's nothing, beba. I had this guy in my cab. He was drunk off his ass and being a pain. When I looked at him to tell him to knock it off he socked me in the nose." Jake lied. He could still see the concern on your face as to gently touched his bandage. "I'll be fine." he said as he kissed you on the forehead.

It's not that the boys want to keep lying to you. If anything all three hate it. But they feel this air of worry when thinking about you knowing too. They know it's dumb. And they know that they can't keep up the secret for long since they want you to be in their lives. But they just need to think of how to bring it up to you at some point.

[mundivagantsoul]

✩ Bookshopist Moonboys✩

Part 1: Nerds, Dead Trees and Dust

Moon Knight System x Reader

A/N: Hi all! This is my first time posting my writing. I apologies for poor grammar and spelling, my only excuse is daydreaming throughout school when I was was supposed to be learning this stuff. If you have any feedback or comments please let me know, I'd love to hear from you! Hope you enjoy ♡

Warnings: mentions of violence (nature documentaries), coarse language, British lingo?

Word Count: 1K

Masterlist | Next ->

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

Seated in the dim living room light with tea-steamed glasses, a certain chocolate-curled Brit scrolls aimlessly through job adverts until a particular post catches his attention

Full-time bookseller- The Old Town Bookshop

Taking a sip of his Earl Grey, Steven opens the listing, greeted with the classic rhetorical questions and enthusiasm only found in job adverts.

Love books? Are you a passionate reader who wishes to share your enthusiasm for literature with others? Come work at “The Old Town Bookshop”, where you can expand your literary knowledge and create a meaningful career with fellow book lovers!

“Living amongst books isn’t enough for you?” Marc quips from a small mirror placed deliberately on the desk's corner.

“I thought you cared about animals and the environment, and yet here you are, further supporting an industry that indoctrinates the destruction of their homes?” Jake nonchalantly adds from an adjacent mirror, oblivious to the surprised faces of his headmates.

Marc raises a brow, “Since when did you become an animal rights advocate?”

Jake shrugs, gaze subconsciously finding Viejita lazing on the lounge before returning back to Marc. “Dunno. Guess I actually pay attention when Steven puts on his nature documentaries”.

Marc mocks being insulted. “Oh I’m sorry, I just don’t find watching baby antelopes getting mauled to death entertaining”.

“Of course, you much rather maul people to death yourself”, Jake's voice mimics Marc’s, enticing a scoff from the latter.

“You’re one to talk Mr. I abuse wheelchairs and kidnap patients from psych wards and then murder them in the back of my fancy car”. 

Steven interrupts the dispute before it can get out of hand. 

“Bloody hell, Lads’ shut it! Look, if I’m being honest, I’m not gonna take animal ethics from either of you carnivores”, then adding, “And need I remind you two, you’re the reason we’re in this dire situation”.

It’s true, between Marc, Jake and Khonshu’s shenanigans, they’d managed to lose their only legal job, and unfortunately, being an ancient Egyptian deity’s ‘fist of vengeance’ doesn’t pay well.

Marc begins to grasp at any logic that means they don’t have to work amongst nerds, dead trees and dust. “Well… Jake and I aren’t avid readers, and the job description says we must be ‘passionate readers’”. 

“Well… I’d say with the number of ‘adult’ novels you read, you’d be classified as a passionate reader”. Steven states matter-of-factly, earning a snort from Jake and a finger from Marc.

“Look, capitalism exists, fish need feeding, and it’s either this, working at the laundromat on 6th, or grovelling for my old job back. You pick”.

Sharing a glance, they sigh, “Fine, we’ll work at your nerd hub”.

Triumphantly, Steven opens the application form.

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

A weathered sign inscribed with “The Old Town Bookshop” hangs atop the quaint corner store. Parallel white arches and a broad window decorate its petite structure with morning sunlight reflecting off the seemingly fresh coat of indigo, enriching the buildings' otherwise aged aesthetic.

Breathing out a puff of warm air, Steven adjusts the strap of his shoulder bag, a nervous habit he’d picked up over the years. Peering at the lit window, he opens the door. Greeted by the homely smell of paper and ink, Steven gazes around at the array of books and colours, marvelling at the unexpectedly large floor plan. 

"Like the Tardis". Marc hums from the window reflection whilst Jake observes their surroundings, habitually checking for threats.

Strolling further into the store, a warm pressure rubs itself along his calf. Peering down, Steven’s met with honey eyes and golden fur.

“¿Gatito?” Jake chirps, seemingly forgetting about surveying the area.

The cat meows in return as if replying to Jake’s comment. 

“Great, now we’ll be covered in dust and cat hair”. Marc comments, trying to remain apathetic about their adorable feline coworker.

Kneeing down, Steven scratches the tabby’s head, earning a delightful purr from their new acquaintance. Checking the collar, ‘Dorian’ is engraved on a fish-shaped name tag. 

Dorian huh? Makes sense, you’re a pretty lookin’ fella. Steven observes before returning to the task at hand. 

Following the familiar monotonous sound of a sticker gun, the Brit finds himself walking towards the counter where, surrounded by a pile of new releases, you are busy at work. The boys take in your features, entranced as the morning light caresses your face, highlighting the soft beauty that adorns your profile. Eyes roaming over your features, they notice your slight frown of concentration and inaudible movements of your mouth. 

As Steven approaches the counter, your words become interpretable.

“How are we already getting Christmas and holiday content when it hasn’t even been Halloween yet?” you grumble, condemning whoever decided it was a suitable practice. “I swear if I start hearing Mariah Carey, I’m gonna…”.

Someone clearing their throat interrupts your malicious thoughts. As your head shoots up, you notice the fidgeting man in front of the counter. Shit. How long has he been standing there?  You think, face heating up at the possibility of him witnessing your moral decadence.

“So sorry to bother you love. I’m here for my shift? I was supposed to start today… I’m Steven, by the way”.

The realisation smacks you in the face like a flying stop sign. Crap, it is already 8 o'clock? Internally criticising yourself for losing track of time, you scramble for an apology. “Right- yes, Steven, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise the time”. Sticking out your hand, you introduce yourself. 

God, your name sounds as beautiful as you look, They simultaneously think.

A warm, calloused hand engulfs your own as Steven rolls your name over his tongue. “All good love happens to the best of us”.

You smile warmly, and suddenly, the prospect of spending 9 hours a day surrounded by nerds, dead trees and dust doesn't seem too bad.

Thank you for reading ♡

Also please go check out the fabulous @viejita-n-co who created Viejita! You’ll find a bunch of fanart and pictures of the boys too ♡

[xcalciumx]

A Night to Remember | Moon Knight System x Reader

Word Count | 4.5k

Summary | A nice night with your boyfriend Marc quickly unveils into chaos. A third altar? A horrifying demon? Your half-assed Egyptian God of Wind and Air, Shu? What could possibly go wrong. 

—

“Here you go.”

You smile sweetly at your boyfriend as you set the cup down on the coffee table, taking care not to spill the hot contents inside.

“Thanks, baby,” Marc says as he sinks further into the couch, the NFL playing on the television becoming a background buzz. You watch him with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before snapping open again. His breathing is heavier than normal and it’s almost as if he’s curling in on himself as he sits there, eyes blank.

“You alright, Marc?” You murmur, reaching over to lay a hand on his shoulder softly. At the contact, his gaze shoots to you. He mumbles something incoherent before speaking up.

“Mm, i’m alright, hon. Jus’ a little dizzy. That’s all…”

You hum noncommittally, not sitting down yet as you observe him carefully. 

“Stevey’s not trying to front, is he?” you ask calmly, head tilting in question. A few dark locks of hair fall over his forehead as he blinks blearily over at you. His strong jaw is accentuated by the gentle glow of the lamp, his features seeming to darken with exhaustion. “Marc?” 

He shakes his head.

Your lips thin as you keep watching him, a part of you suspecting that Steven was, in fact, trying to take the body. He continues to sit there in a haze, and you think for a moment before cupping his face gingerly. He blinks up at you, though it's as if he's not really seeing you.

“I’m gonna get you some water, alright? I don’t think coffee is gonna do you any good right now.”

Marc doesn’t respond. Turning on your heel, you quickly make your way back into the kitchen, hands wringing together in worry. Marc can handle it, you remind yourself. He’s a big boy. Nevertheless, you can’t help but put an extra hop in your step, hoping to get the glass of water and return to his side pronto. The glass is cold in your hands, the filtered water that had been sitting in the fridge making it even more so. Though you can’t see into the lounge from where you are, you can't help but keep glancing towards the doorway in concern for your lover.

The water quickly rises to the top of the cup. You hurry back into the room. 

Except now, Marc isn’t there. You stop in place, lips pursing. Where had he…? Before your mind could come up with anything crazy, you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching you from behind. 

“Marc, lovely? How are you…feeling?” 

As you spun around to face him, your words slowly trailed off. Marc was standing there, but immediately you could tell there was something off. His eyes seemed to have gotten somehow darker, his back straighter than usual. Any signs of his previous delirious state had practically vanished into thin air. You cocked your head to the side, assessing him. Silently, he stared back, his empty stare now a piercing glare. 

“Marc?” you cleared your throat, “You alright?”

Slowly, like a creeping vine, a smile made its way across his lips.

“Fine, darling.” He replied, though there was something off about that too. His voice was rasping just a little too much, a strange accent lacing his voice. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?” 

You blinked a couple of times while you processed his words.

“Fine,” you stammered. “Um, I suppose you’re feeling better then.” You amended, not fully believing that he was just suddenly okay. Just to make sure, you shot him a sheepish grin, beckoning him over. Wordlessly, he answered your call, coming closer. When he was within reaching distance, you raised the back of your hand to his forehead, feeling the skin there for any signs of a fever. At the unexpected action, he looked down at you with confusion, body tensing. Before he could ask, you were already retracting your hand to your side. “You’re not coming down with something, right? I mean, you don’t feel warm but your voice…”

His dark chocolate eyes met yours with a sudden intensity, making you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. Nervous. Why were you nervous all of a sudden?

“Maybe I am getting sick,” he said slowly, eyes tracking the length of your face carefully. “I feel a little…faint.”

Knew it. You gave him a reprimanding look, bringing your hands up to push him back down onto the couch next to you. He went down with ease, not putting up a fight. Remembering the glass of water you had discarded onto the table, you quickly found it, situating it in his hands. 

“Drink,” you ordered. 

He did so, eyes still not leaving you even as his throat bobbed with each swallow. You mirrored him, eyes a little tight around the edge as you regarded his actions. A dreadful feeling crept up your spine but you shrugged it off for the time being, leaning onto the arm of the sofa casually.  

“Can’t believe Konshu would let his avatar get sick,” you murmured, loud enough for Marc to hear. “I’d say the old geezer’s not exactly doing his job right, is he?” The silence that met you was eerie. Marc lowered the glass from his lips, reaching over to place it on the oak table. He didn’t say anything, didn’t laugh. Normally, Marc would be the first to laugh at any remark or joke made at Konshu’s expense, so this quiet response had you concerned. He must have realised his silence unsettled you, as the next moment he was cracking a small grin.  

“Yes, well…” he didn’t finish his sentence. Just sat there, something heavy going on behind those almond eyes of his. You wanted to do something, hold his hand, but that daunting feeling was back. When he glanced at you, you swore that, even for a second, you were looking at a stranger. But if it wasn’t Marc, then who was it? At the thought, you blinked repetitively, mentally scolding yourself. You were just paranoid. All the worry for his well being was turning your head into mush. But the idea was incessant, haunting. Maybe something funny was going on up in his deep and complex mind; perhaps Steven was causing a ruckus. You nearly laughed at the thought of your sweet British man doing anything remotely annoying or ‘causing a ruckus.’

“Hey, Marc?” you spoke, conscientious about what you were saying. “Are you sure you’re the only one driving the car, right now? I mean, Steven’s not shotgunning, right?” He looked at you with bewilderment, as if the analogy wasn’t one the two of you had used a thousand times before. Quickly though, you watched as he dispersed of the shock and instead, shook his head calmly.

“No.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “Oh, okay.”

Just then, a dark shadow flew past the corner of your eye. When you tilted your head slightly to the left, you were met with the sight of your very own god, Shu, standing by the bookcase in the corner of the room. Very minutely, you raised your eyebrows; a silent query. 

His response was instantaneous.

That is not Marc Spector, little mortal.

Your eyes widened a tad but you schooled your features, urging him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. In front of you, Marc had his eyes trained to the tv, lips curled into a displeased frown. Though you wanted to inquire more from your god directly, it didn’t seem like the right thing to do given the situation at hand.

There is a darkness radiating off him. Like a plague. But I'm not quite sure what it is…

A plague? Curious, you peeked over at where Shu was standing, but was met with the barren walls of the apartment instead. You couldn’t help but mutter a soft curse. That annoying old prick. Hearing your profanity, Marc peered back at you again, a salacious grin curving his lips.

“Filthy mouth, mi amor.” 

What were meant to be supposedly cute words had you holding back a flinch. Marc never spoke Spanish to you; and he certainly never called you his ‘amor’. You couldn’t show him that though, so instead of gaping in shock like you wanted to, you returned his teasing with a cheeky little smile.

“¿Sí? Mala mía, nena.” Something twinkled in his eyes as he leaned towards you. He clicked his tongue tauntingly. Though there was something strange going on, and there was a large possibility that this wasn’t Marc - it was still his body, and you were still just as attracted to it as you were twenty minutes ago, which didn’t help much at all.

“No bueno, not good at all.” he admonished, dark eyes looking you up and down like prey. Beside you, your hand clenched into a fist. Spanglish banter with Marc? Something was definitely up.

You hesitantly stood up, nodding towards the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back, need some water.” Marc waved at his nearly empty glass.

“You can have some of mine, hermosa.” He eyed you quizzically as you shook your head.

“You’re sick, remember?” you huffed out a quiet laugh over your shoulder, already walking away. Back turned, you missed the way his lips straightened seriously, eyelids falling into a bored expression.

This time as you crossed the threshold, you were in a rush for a whole other reason. 

Be careful, little mortal. That is definitely not one of your boy-toys in that meatsuit.

You jumped at the booming voice in your head, whipping around to the kitchen counter where Shu had returned, sitting nonchalantly on a stool. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Yeah, thanks, I got that part.” you hissed quietly, walking towards your knife block. “But if it’s not Marc, and it’s not Steven - who the hell is it?” The ancient Egyptian made a shrugging gesture at you, ostrich feather flopping around on his head while he looked around the room.

Something dark. Something ominous.

“Okay, would you stop it with the mysterious, vague crap? What is - “ you paused suddenly, ears faintly picking up on movement from beyond the door. The hand that had been reaching for your chef's knife instantly stopped and redirected to the cupboard above your head, in an attempt to appear like you were searching for a glass.

Uh-oh.

You shot a last minute glare at the wind god, grabbing hold of a glass as you heard footsteps hit the tiled floor of the kitchen. Briefly, you closed your eyes and took a calming breath. Whatever this was - you would deal with it. A cold draft made its way up your spine.

Don’t turn around, little one.

Shu warned you, his usual booming cadence levelling out as he watched over you. As you observed him from the corner of your eye, you watched as he mimicked a gun with two dark fingers, your lips downturning at the action.

“Oh, hey Marc?” you asked in an attempt of casual indifference, one hand grasping at the door to the fridge. He took a moment to answer.

“Yes?” 

It was almost like he wasn’t even trying to hide the New York accent anymore.

“Steven forgot to feed Gus and Frankie this morning. Could you…?” he anticipated your question and you heard the hefty sigh that escaped his lips behind you. There was a slight tapping sound against the floor before you heard him walking off to supposedly feed the goldfish. You let out a breath of relief, go you. 

It was a lie, of course. Steven could never forget to feed the fish. However, Marc had been fronting all day, and well, Marc didn’t really care for, in his words, ‘the stupid pets’. Naturally then, it was your job to feed the fish when Steven wasn’t present; though, you had returned home from a mission early this morning and had fallen right into bed with Marc, your fatigued mind not even remembering till now that you owned Gus and Frankie. Still, the excuse to get this Marc imposter away from you and unsuspecting was as good as any.

Make haste, little mortal. He will kill you if you don’t do it first.

You directed an angry snarl at your god.

“I’m not killing my boyfriend.”

Though as you said this, the silver of the knife sheened as it slipped from the block.

Why don’t you just wear the suit?

“Because I’m trying not to let on that I know he’s not Marc!” You whispered angrily, stalking around the counter and stopping at the hallway door.

The suit will keep you safe.

“If I need the suit, then give me the damn suit. But for now, shut up and watch my back.” The god huffed dramatically in your head but you ignored it, creeping along the wall till Marc, or Marc’s body you guess you should say, came into view. He was standing at the fish tank, large hands fiddling with a packet of feed. 

You nearly started cursing at him - that was the wrong stuff! He was holding the special treat pellets Steven liked to give them when they behaved. The bloody bags cost double the amount of normal feed. Steven wouldn’t be happy if it was wasted, neither would you.

Delicately, you snuck up behind him, air stuck in your lungs. The knife you brandished was tucked closely to the small of your back, your eyes never leaving the enigmatic figure in front of you. Appearing stoic and collected on the outside, you were freaking the hell out on the inside. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. Would you threaten him? Demand him to reveal himself? You weren’t going to actually hurt this dude, right? Afterall, it was still your boyfriend's body and just the idea of bringing him harm caused a gnawing pit to grow in your stomach. You’d known Marc for well over a year now, and although your first meeting had technically been a fight between the two of you (a petty god vs a pettier god kind of thing) it had been the last time you had laid hands on eachother so violently and with so much ill intent. 

It’d bring you a lot of pain to hurt Marc, but him hurting you? It would kill him. So, the fact that this guy was seemingly trying to outright murder you…Yeah, it stung a little. Imagining Marc or Steven finding you dead on the floor made you feel sick to the stomach.

With that in mind, you crept closer, only a step away from grabbing him and putting the knife to his throat like you intended. You weren’t going to cut him - no way, you were just gonna scare him a little and hopefully get some answers.

Well, that was the plan at least.

Until he whipped around and pointed a beretta M9 straight at your chest.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on -”

He did not. 

You saw the squeezing of his finger, heard the click of the gun and then your ears began to ring with the sound of a gunshot. Straight into the heart. 

Gasping for breath, you stumbled back, eyes frantically darting to the golden chestplate now wrapping around your torso. 

Told you, you needed the suit. 

Your panicked expression quickly morphed into one of fury, hands shaking by your side. The chef's knife that you had intended to use was quickly chucked behind you as you snatched your spear from your back, your armour now encasing your whole body.

“You asshole!” You yelled at the man, stunned at how easily he had tried to murder you. He blinked at you innocently, gun lowered to his side.  

“Nothin’ personal, sweetheart.” he said, this time the fake voice he had kept up shattered completely. “Orders are orders, you’d understand.” 

Your jaw clenched. No, no you would not understand. 

“Konshu is making you do this?” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Who else?”

“Who else? I - why the hell,” you didn’t know what to say to that. Konshu wanted you dead? Since when? “Who even are you?” you managed to get out, trying to gain some semblance of control back. A smug smirk came over his face. 

“¿Que? I’m Marc Spector,” he taunted you, knowing full well that you knew he was not Marc Spector. Not in the slightest.

You ground your teeth, shooting a glance at the Egyptian god over near the bed. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes trained on the window. 

“Shu?” you hissed, no longer bothering to hide the fact you were talking to him. Not Marc Spector raised a brow. “What is it?” The god looked over at you quickly, his eyes darting between you and not Marc. His eyes flared with golden light.

Shaytan.

A cold wave flowed through you at the word. The scrunched up, concerned look on your face did not go unnoticed by the imposter opposite you.

“Wow, you’re loco. I’m probably doing the boys a favour gettin’ rid of you.” 

You tried to ignore his words, but the sheer malice of what he was saying caused an involuntary reaction. You whipped your head back to him, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“Shut your mouth, dimwit. You must think this is a real joke, huh? Shaytan - it’s a demon! You need to back off, now, because something really, really bad is going on.”

All you received was a flat, deadpan look. 

“Okay, I’ve entertained this long enough. No hard feelings, loca.” As he spoke, he tucked his gun into the sweatpants Marc had been wearing, head tilting back a little. You watched as he closed his eyes and then…nothing happened. The silence was prominent when he peeked one eye open, lips pulling down. His fists clenched by his side but still, everything stayed the same. You could’ve laughed. 

“Having a problem there, estúpido?” you mocked. He glared at you, mumbling something under his breath. Then too, he looked towards the window, completely disregarding you. 

“Aye, where’s the suit?” he said. You looked at the blank space that he was talking to, glancing at Shu who had come up next to you. He rested a glowing palm on your head.

Look.

You had to stop yourself from screaming as the light flooded your mind, opening up your conscience to the world beyond. By the window, ghoulish form trembling and heaving, you witnessed the creature Shu claimed was the ‘Shaytan’. Long pale limbs, glowing silver orbs for eyes and a body that resembled a starved, withering corpse. It was definitely not Konshu. Your stare wavered to where not Marc was speaking to him, confusion washing over you.

He only sees Konshu standing there.

Shu’s words made you frown.

That’s what those Shaytan do. They hide their true form, encapture gods and feed on the vulnerable souls of well…avatars. 

“Are you saying that thing wants to eat my soul?” The horror on your face doubled. “Wait, are you saying that it’s also gonna eat Marc and Steven’s soul?” 

Shu grimaced.

It looks hungry, little one. You should probably run.

“What!?” You almost screamed. Just then, the haunting eyes of the creature locked onto you. Your heart dropped to your feet. “Do something!” you hissed at your god, “get rid of it!” The awkward laugh booming in your head was not reassuring. At the same time, not Marc met eyes with you, determination ever-present on his face. Great, just what you needed. One horrifying monster and one murderous psycho. Amazing.

See, that’s not really my area of expertise. We need the moon god, he has more experience with those things.

Slowly, you began to back away, spear clutched in a death grip. “Are you kidding me? Where is he then?”

Like I said, they encapture gods. Konshu is probably fighting his way back from the underworld right now. Don’t fret though, I’m sure you will be alright. If you…if you leave. Right now. Um. 

You were already running, floorboards thudding beneath you as you skidded down the hall towards the front door. When you glanced back, you noticed that your god had completely vanished, probably not wanting to be the next one on this demon's hit-list. 

“You’re the lousiest god I know, Shu! I swear to - OOF!”

As you reached for the silver knob, something heavy came barraging into you from behind. Your back throbbed at the harsh contact. As soon as you hit the ground, you twisted your body - expecting to come face to face with the psycho occupying Marc's body. You wanted to cry when you realised that it was not the psycho, but rather the soul-hungry boogeyman that was trying to rip you to shreds. Its paper skin rippled as it leant towards you, mouth opening into a deep, black hole. As soon as you saw the pink tendrils that slithered out from that darkness, you knew you’d be having nightmares for at least a year after this. 

Beyond him, the moon gods' avatar came screeching to a halt, his eyebrow drawing together at what he was watching. 

“Konshu?” he asked in that thick american accent of his. If it weren’t for the fact you were about to get your soul sucked from your body, you would have shouted at the man for being so stupid. The creature huffed above you, a low howling sound echoing from its skinless lips. “Right…” not Marc responded. You could barely believe what you were seeing and hearing. He really believed this was Konshu, didn’t he? You almost felt bad for the man for being tricked by this demon. Almost. 

Those tendrils got closer and closer. It was only when they were a hair's breadth away from your face did they stop. You inhaled noisily, trying to escape the grip of this thing. But even when you managed to pull a hand free and swing your spear haphazardly, it simply passed through it like a cloud, having zero effect. The Shaytan didn’t like that, growling and snarling in your face. You turned white as a ghost. 

Holy hell. You were going to die.

A dark shadow fell over your head and you were barely able to make out Shu above the demon's head. The tendrils tickled your nose and you had to contain a shout.

“Do something,” you whispered through clenched teeth. “Shu, don’t you dare let me die to this thing.” Your eyes fluttered in uncontained fear as you felt it latch onto you with those tentacle things. It’s heaving, rough breaths amplifying as it tugged at your skin. “Shu!”

To your utter relief, the Egyptian God actually did do something. His hand, decorated in sapphire jewels and dark beads, reached out in front of him, some sort of ancient Egyptian chant leaving his lips. You could just make out the ankh held firmly in his other hand. As the words spilled out, the Shaytan began to thrash, angry howls filling your ears. Even so, it didn’t disconnect from you. You were beginning to feel dizzy, a tiredness taking over your body. It was like the feeling of running nonstop for hours and finally passing out from dehydration. Except you weren’t just passing out, your very mind and being was being pulled from you.

“Shu,” you rasped desperately. His chanting stopped.

Nothing’s working, little mortal. I’m sorry but there’s not much else I can think to do.

You’re giving up on me? You wanted to yell. After everything you’d done for him, how loyally you had served him all these years, he was just going to let you die? You had never felt so angry in your life. Not to mention this whole thing with not Marc; how long had he been hiding from Steven and Marc? How long had he watched the three of you living a content life and decided ‘right, I’ll just kill her and it’ll be no big deal’? You wanted to punch him in his stupidly handsome face, not just to quell your own anger but for the other two men who had to share a body with him. You couldn’t imagine how he could try to hurt you so nonchalantly. He really was a psychopath. 

Dark spots clouded your vision, the anger swelling inside of you becoming mute as you could no longer keep fighting back. It was done. You were done. What a miserable fucking way to go out. 

Through the dark haze, you heard a distant voice, a familiar yet unfamiliar one, a loud yet quiet one. Booming. Reprimanding. Godly?

- you are certainly reaching old age, you dumb little man. What god doesn’t know how to deal with a Shaytan in this day and age? 

Pressure seemed to suddenly vanish from your chest, the growing exhaustion in your body coming to a still. That voice…that voice.

Konshu?

Jake Lockley, you must be under the influence of the other two’s stupidity. By what order would I be sending you to kill her? Astonishing. Truly.

Slowly, the world came back into focus, your eyes straining to look up at the wooden ceiling above you. The Shaytan was gone. 

Thank fucking lord. 

The towering figure of your god presided over you instead, a grim set to his lips. You shot him the nastiest look you could manage in your half-conscious state.

Forgive me, little mortal. Konshu arrived and he saved you from your imminent end. No need to be bitter. 

You coughed, throat dry, before turning over onto your hands and knees, whole body aching painfully. 

“No need to be bitter?” you sputtered, leaning on the wall as you tried to stand. “You were going to let me die,” you hissed. 

I tried!

“You didn’t try hard enough, you big, dumb god!”

That’s not very nice. 

You growled, turning back towards the apartment where a certain Moon God now stood with his avatar. Your furious gaze settled on ‘Jake Lockley’. 

“You gonna apologise now, you fool?”

Jake’s dark eyes settled on you, his shoulders lifting in a half-shrug. Now that you were looking at the real him, you could make out every little thing that made him distinctively different from Marc and Steven. From the posture to the look in his eyes.

“You can’t really blame me for all that,” he said. Konshu made an annoyed noise at his side. When you looked at the Moon God, he made another frustrated sound.

It’s not my fault that I chose a dumb avatar, little girl.

Your lips pursed.

Meet Jake Lockley, the third and last one inside your partner's head. My real Moon Knight. 

You looked back at Jake, hands settling on your hips as you regained your bearings. Everything that just went down flashed through your mind, a crease forming on your forehead. Tonight was supposed to have been a nice night-in with Marc, but this…this?

“You and I have a lot to talk about, Jake Lockley,” you scowled.

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of sleeping aids, some alcohol

A/N: For this chapter I've given Layla a helmet one for protection and two, like... I have this badass design in my head I plan on sketching out. But imagine it slides over her head like this. Also, featuring another hobby headcanon for the boys done by the lovely @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction!

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr

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Chapter 6:

Whiskey Rose

Layla put her hands on her hips as she paced back and forth on the rooftop.

"There is just no way they haven't figured it out at this point. No absolute damn way!"

Taweret sighed, her hands clasped in front of her as she refrained from smiling at Layla's frustration.

"Well, dear, we both know how--ehm--daft those boys can be, at times... It doesn't surprise me that they haven't noticed their soulmate has been living down the street from them for ages..." She said.

"Ugh!" The woman said, ruffling her hands in her curly hair. "I know that! But her? How could she possibly be so blind? She's smart! Did they not even notice that she just happens to have vegan-friendly items on the menu? Marc's favorite coffee? Steven's favorite tea?!"

Layla tossed her hands up in the air, sighing. "This is ridiculous! It could all be a coincidence, sure! But her hand! Her hand, Taweret!"

Layla grabbed the same hand that you had burned, the same hand Marc felt pain in the day you said it happened. "No way is it a coincidence on that!"

"Well yes, of course, there is that..." The goddess smiled finally, her tone even and soft so she could soothe her frustrated Avatar.

"But you can't always force soulmates to realize these things. They just have to happen naturally. Maybe because they haven't realized it yet means that they're not ready to realize it yet?"

Layla stopped in her tracks and squinted up at her.

"You said you were going to help me on this."

"I am."

"You're literally contradicting that promise by basically saying it's "not their time, yet"."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. I could just be helping in a different way."

Layla made a frustrated laugh and rubbed at her temples. "Why are Egyptian gods like this?!"

"Part of our charm, I s'pose, dear." Taweret giggled.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll drop it for now." Layla sighed, looking up at her with a tired smile.

"But you're not off the hook for this." She warned playfully.

"Oh, but of course, my dear!" Taweret replied, her hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture. "I would never break a promise to you!"

Layla shook her head and snorted in an effort to keep down the fit of laughter that wanted to escape. She lifted her gaze and looked out on the cityscape of London, the grimy dirty streets that were teeming with life.

But also teeming with crime and cruelty. It was like lifting a rotted log; look in the right place and criminals will scatter like bugs beneath the surface.

"...I wish they boys could talk with Khonshu like I do with you. Their lives would be so much easier." She murmured, crossing her arms.

"I know, darling." Taweret sighed softly, her ears flattening in distress. "That old codger! He's so... so rough with them! I would hate to see how poor Steven gets spoken to. He's such a sweetheart!"

"Oh, trust me... Steven, when he wants to be, can be very, very, very sassy." Layla smirked playfully up at her. "From what Marc has told me, he can give as good as he can take verbally, especially to Khonshu."

"Oh? But Steven is such a doll! It's hard to imagine him saying such things." Taweret gasped in surprise. "I would love to see it if he ever does snap at the old bird, though!"

"Oh, definitely. Next time it happens? I'm having Marc spill everything. Or Steven. Whichever feels like talking."

"Oh, I'd rather be a fly on the wall next time it happens!" Taweret giggled, rocking on her heels.

She had such a cute appearance and personality, despite being a large gal, her little physical tics just served to endear her to Layla even more. She was so sweet; the only thing she was missing were tiny little glasses at the end of her muzzle and a little bonnet to complete the look of an adorable cartoon animal mum or grandmum.

"Ugh, so do I!" Layla laughed along with her, laughter finally tumbling out from where she kept it held in.

The two laugh amongst one another for a moment, until their levity dies down. After a pregnant pause, Layla looked back up at Taweret and sighed deeply.

"Well... Should you do the honors?" She asked. "But... Let's keep our suspicions about her a secret from him. Last thing we need is the old bastard using her as a bargaining chip with the boys like he tried to do with me."

"Of course." The goddess replied, giving a curt nod of her head.

She lowered her head and closed her eyes, her hands clasping in front of her once again.

When her eyes reopened, they were glowing with a soft golden light, her ears flicking about.

The moment stretched on for what felt like an uncomfortable length of time. She finally blinked and the light went away from her eyes.

She looked back at Layla and let her gaze. "He should be here momentarily. Though, I will warn you he is very cross you "took" the boys from him for the night."

"Oh, please! They need sleep! They can't go out every night and do his dirty work for him and he just expects them not to suffer from sleep deprivation!" Layla scoffed.

"I know, but he seems more angry that it wasn't brought to his attention first..."

"If that old bastard has a problem with it, he can--"

"I can what, Layla el Faouly?" Khonshu's gravelly voice rumbled out, a chill sweeping through her body.

Layla frowned and glared at him where he sat, perched on the edge of the roof, his staff resting casually against his shoulder.

"You can shove it and go get your kicks somewhere that isn't at my ex-husband and his alters' expense! Or better yet I can kick your ass!"

"I'd like to see you try, little bug." Khonshu sneered.

She knew he couldn't emote, with that stupid, dessicated skull that hovered in place of his head. But she could feel the condescending expression he surely would be fixing her with just by his tone of voice as well.

And boy, did it piss her off.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you keep trying that shit with me. I'm not Marc, or Jake, or even Steven. I will fight your bony, mummified ass!"

Khonshu stood, taking lumbering steps towards her.

"You insolent little worm. I will--"

"Do nothing. Layla is my Avatar, Khonshu." Taweret said, her tone unusually hard as she stepped between Layla and Khonshu.

Her motherly role decided to come out. And nothing was scarier in the animal kingdom, logically, than a pissed off hippo.

Let alone a pissed off hippo goddess who happened to be one of motherhood.

"You will not lay a finger on her. You are still in deep trouble with the Ennead for the stunt you pulled with the night sky, and having Jake kill Ammit and Harrow. Do you really want to push your luck by attacking another god's Avatar because you can't take a few quips?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously, a sharp glint to the normally kind and warm depths.

Khonshu leaned back a bit, turning his head with a scoff, rolling his shoulders.

"Fine. Now, tell me why you have taken my Fist from me this night. Tell me why you two kept them from performing justice on those who have harmed the innocents under my protection."

Layla had to physically bite her tongue to call him out on his hypocrisy.

"Because, Layla and I agreed we would arrange a deal with you. Whilst Layla is here in London, she will handle the dispatching of justice on those you deem need it." Taweret huffed.

"The boys need rest. You are overworking your Avatar to a dangerous degree. Lack of sleep can and will kill. Then what would you do? You can't exactly serve justice without your Moon Knight. And the time you spend looking for another deserving of the title, too many evildoers will slip through your net, yes?"

Khonshu stamped his staff on the rooftop, not speaking.

Layla smirked.

'You go, Hippo-Mama.' She thought. 'Tell that bastard what-for.'

"But you will understand that Layla will only kill if she absolutely has to. If it is absolutely necessary. Otherwise, she will leave those individuals for the authorities, understand?" She jabbed an authoritative finger at him.

Khonshu was silent for a long moment, his grip tightening on the bleached wood of his staff.

"...Very well. I agree to your terms. I will let Marc and the other two rest. For now."

"Now that all the unpleasantness is out of the way..." Taweret rubbed her hands together as she spoke. "Who do you want Layla to go after, first?"

"There are individuals tied to the trafficking group that Jake Lockley eliminated not too long ago. They will be what you start off with. They have already moved on to other groups and are already stalking their next kidnappees." Khonshu grunted.

"I want you to stop them before they move. Start at the Avernice Packing Plant. It is a front."

"Human trafficking, eh?" Layla sighed. "Disgusting. I'll help, like we promised."

"Yes, you will." Khonshu growled.

He stomped his staff twice and disappeared in a puff of mist.

Layla cracked her knuckles, "Well, let's get this done."

"Oooh, of course! You go get em, babygirl!" Taweret said, pumping her fists in encouragement.

Layla turned and stepped to the edge of the roof. Shrugging her shoulder softly, a golden and bejeweled helmet slid in place, her hair tucked safely away inside.

"Let's go save those people."

She threw out her arms, her gleaming golden wings slinging out from her sides as she leapt off the rooftop.

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For the next few days, Layla would come to visit you, chatting you up and listening to you talk. You had the feeling that something was bothering her, but you didn't want to pry. It seemed to be weighing on her a little bit.

Perhaps you'd ask about it. Later

Today, on the other hand, Layla was already there, perusing your stock for any more books she may have been missing. You were happy you had already set the kettle to boil and had the coffee freshly brewed before she arrived.

You'd given her a polite smile as you passed, carefully balancing the tray of tarts you had finished, and Layla gave you a small wave and smile in return, plucking a book off the shelf in front of her.

What you didn't expect however, was to spot a man in one of your nooks.

He sat like a dark shadow being cast; a golf cap hanging low over his forehead, raven hair slicked back beneath, a dark leather jacket and worn leather gloves made up most of his attire as he sat with his fists balled on the table, watching people walk past the windows of your shop.

Like Marc, he looked a dead ringer for Steven. But unlike Marc and Steven, this man looked absolutely miffed about something as he sat in quiet thought.

This must be the third brother. Jack, or something like that? Marc had told you about him but his name slipped your mind. He mentioned they were triplets or something like that, so... maybe...

He had dark bags under his eyes, making him look exhausted and... well... pissed about something.

You decide to forgo your usual greeting and leave the man to himself, carefully slipping the fresh treats into the display case.

Then, you turn and walk over to the counter that held the mini fridge, coffee machines, and tea kettles along with all the proper dishes you'd need to serve such things you had on your menu.

You grab the pot from the coffee machine and pour the bitter black brew into a freshly cleaned mug.

Something tells you to skip the sugar and cream, leaving it black.

You take a half a step before looking at the small drawer beneath the checkout counter.

You decided to add something after all.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Jake sat, glaring out at the passerbys as they went about their daily lives, never the wiser about the evil creatures that walked amongst them.

The monsters that were laying in wait to pounce like a predator on their prey the moment the sun went down. The very monsters that he wanted to protect everyone from.

The very monsters Khonshu gave him bidding to hunt each night.

Except he hasn't been hunting them all night. Not as often as before. Not since Layla decided to come to London and stay for a while, taking the load off their shoulders a bit.

Jake knew Khonshu was pissed that he and the other two gave in to Layla and Taweret's urging that they rest. As much as he hated passing the reins off, as much as he hated not doing his duty, he relented. They were indeed overworked and exhausted.

It wasn't easy to go against Khonshu's will, let alone without warning him first.

But Marc and Steven welcomed the rest, even if they weren't precisely well-rested. The nights they were used to prowling the streets, they couldn't help but wander the flat. Steven would clean, or cook new things, Marc would watch recorded sports events, and Jake would sit in the recliner by the window and knit. He decided on making something for Layla, as a bit of a thanks.

He knew she didn't trust him still, not very much anyways, but she deserved to be rewarded for her hard work covering for them and trying to help. Maybe he could even knit something for Taweret...

However, their respite didn't last long. The three of them were in agreement that they didn't want Layla to bear the burdens of dispensing Khonshu's justice alone. That while her intentions were noble, she simply couldn't do it alone. She wasn't used to it like they were, and the short time she was doing it, the strain was already taking a toll on her.

So, the past few nights they'd all been up well into the wee hours, hunting criminals, fighting and defeating them together.

Jake was a bit overbearing at times, but it was only because he didn't want Layla to get hurt. Even before Marc or Steven or even Layla were aware of him, he did what he had to do to protect them. To protect her.

Like killing Harrow and Ammit.

She just didn't fully understand that he wasn't cruel, or callous. He simply knew what--

His thoughts were cut off when a mug was placed in front of him, the steaming dark contents waiting up into his nose.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, and your sheepish smile.

"Uhm... Sorry to interrupt you. But uh. Here..?" You said to him a bit nervously.

"...Thanks." Jake muttered, taking the mug, feeling the warmth seep through his gloves.

"So, uh... You're... Er..." You tried, your expression twisting slightly.

John? Jack? Joe?

"...Jake?"

He nodded, looking back up at you, raising a dark brow in curiosity.

"Sí, I am." He told you.

You couldn't help but grin.

"So we have the Brit, the American, and the... Spaniard?" You tried to joke.

He laughed tightly, almost like dry leaves blowing in the wind. A bit chilly, but not entirely devoid of humor.

"Something like that." He said, tipping the mug to his lips. He was impressed. Most people tended to put cream, milk, or sugar in it despite his wishes. Insisting he needed flavor. It looked like you left it entirely black, for him.

Only... You didn't. He could taste it.

He pulled the mug away, looking down at the coffee and back up at you.

"...Did you put whiskey in this?"

"Well... Um. Yeah... I keep a flask under the counter for... uhhhhh... emergency... purposes..?" You saif, your sheepish smile returning.

It looked cute on you.

Jake blinked at you in shock. He reached into his pocket and fished out an old, beat up and tarnished flask.

"I... was actually going to add some of my own." He replied.

"You kinda looked like you needed it..."

Jake stared at you in shock for another moment more, his jaw clenched not in irritation at your assumption, but in an effort to keep it from dropping.

'...I think I'm in love with this woman.'

"So, um. Welcome to my shop..." You tell him, introducing yourself and the name of your store.

He repeated your name under his breath, finding that it blended well with the taste of the smokey honey whiskey and coffee he'd just sipped.

"It's nice to meet you. My... Brothers and Layla have told me about you. I'm Jake. Jake Lockley." He offered you a hand to shake in polite greeting.

After you pulled away, you noticed his sleeve ride up a bit on his wrist and spot the edges of a tattoo? Or maybe... a mark?

It wasn't any of your business... You only just met the man, after all. You pushed your curiosity aside.

"It's nice to meet you too, uh, Mister Lockley." You replied curtly.

"Ah, just Jake. Please, señorita. "Mister" just sounds awkward and too formal." He chuckled.

You giggled softly, "Er... Yeah. Sorry about that. So uhm. Are you looking for anything in particular today? Or did Layla drag you along?"

Were you... teasing him? He couldn't tell.

It takes him a moment for him to come up with something. Deciding to ignore how you might look at him, he goes for it anyway.

"I was looking into making a gift for someone." Jake said to you.

"Oh? You're looking for craft books then? Something specific?" You chirped, your eyebrows raising.

"Eh... Knitting, if you can believe that. I'm looking for patterns I haven't tried before, and I hate looking them up online. Because at the start of those stupid articles..."

"Someone writes a ten page essay about their god-forsaken childhood?" You finished with a smirk.

"Exactly." Jake grinned at you, flashing his white teeth.

"Well, I actually don't know if I have anything on knitting in particular, but I can check for you."

"Ah, gracias señorita."

It wasn't until you walked away, that he realized Layla was looking at him, a wide, shit-eating grin on her face.

His expression immediately soured as he sipped at his spiked coffee.

"What're you looking at?"

"Nothing." She hummed, opening her book to flip the pages innocently.

"I see you're reading another one of your bodice-rippers." He sneered softly, jabbing at her preferred genre of romance.

"And I see you were gawking at the store clerk." She shoots back, not looking up from her book.

"Maldita mujer tonta! I was not!" He hissed, careful not to slam the mug down too harshly.

He feels a presence envelope him, a pressing feeling like someone just sat on either side of him.

Marc's voice comes from within.

(Jake. We heard you.)

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 7: Link

[parttimewritings]

Stay For Now, I Love You Forever

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader (a tiny bit of Marc Spector x Reader- pining)

Summary: Steven meets a girl. Steven falls for her. Marc falls too.

Warning: Some angst. Set mostly pre-series. (Also for the sake of the fic, Marc is already divorced). First time writing Steven/Marc/Moon Knight system. This is not spell checked as I’m posting at nearly 2AM lol.

A/N: Meant to finish this sooner but I got Covid :( Tagged @marvelenthusiast10 )

***

“Okay Steven…what’s your symptoms.”

The man before you shifted in the chair, drumming his fingers on his jeans, eyes flickering over the walls. It looked like he was battling the urge to run away. It was obvious that he felt awkward, and you couldn’t blame him. It was pretty bizarre having to explain your sleep symptoms to a total stranger.

“Right…” Steve started then trailed off “Sorry Uhh…” he hesitated once more as he looked away from you and rested his gaze on the view from the window. where he could see I t had started to snow heavily.

“Huh…it’s snowing.” He commented “Didnt know it was going to snow? Did you?…Do you think the buses will be running?”

Sensing his rambling was a outburst of nerves, something to distract himself, you attempted to placate him “I didn’t…but I like the snow… I’m sure the buses will be fine but I’ll check the TfL website for you before you go. Do you need a drink?”

Steven brought his dark eyed gaze back to you. “Right sorry, sorry…” he muttered, scratching his jaw… “I’ll get to the point and stop rambling…”

“It’s okay…take your time…” you reassured him. “I have lots of time”

He hesitated, once more before he took a breath for composure

“Okay, so sometimes, yeah, I wake up… and…I‘ve lost… hours or even sometimes days at a time…like couple of weeks ago… I went to bed on Friday…” he gestured, with one hand, the sleeve of his over sized jacket sliding up as he did “but I woke up on Sunday…but I’m still tired…Fell asleep on the bus…” he trailed off for only long enough to rake a hand through his wavy dark hair “Feel like I’ve been hit by one too.”

He gave you a muted smile, as he pulled the long sleeves of his blue jacket back down.

Your lips lifted at corner as a response to his joke, and you nodded slowly, writing down what he was saying.

“That’s not normal is it? Losing days…” He frowned a little, his gaze on you, as you could feel him almost crying out for help “I feel like I’m losing my bloody mind.” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

“No Steven, you’re not, a lack of sleep can do all sorts of things to our bodies, that’s why I’m here. Sleep is a very difficult thing to get right… but we can help you…once we work out what might be causing whatever is happening…do you have any other symptoms? Do you ever sleep walk?”

“See… I thought maybe I did, cause I’d wake up and be like coming back through the door…” Steven leant forward, uncrossing his arms to draw a circle in the air “But like the sand circle would still be yknow in a circle, right? So I can’t be?” He spoke as if he was offering a suggesting, shoulders moving up and down in a shrug that did not look as nonchalant as he had clearly hoped

Now he’d lost you.

“Sand circle?”

“Oh god I’m gonna sound like a right weirdo…” he flopped back in the seat. “I put the sand circle around my bed…, yeah, cause if I was sleep walking I’d shuffle and ruin it.” Steven explained with a wave of his hand. “Wouldn’t I?”

You had to admit it, it was clever, if a little unconventional. “Yeah, that’s actually quite a good idea… never heard that one but I like it.” You nodded encouragingly. As the years you’d spent helping set up various sleep studies, you’d heard all the classics-no caffeine, no cheese, lavender oil, hot baths, white noise, black out curtains… but you’d never heard of using a sand circle to test if you were sleeping walking.

“That and the restraint on the bed.” Steven tacked on then instantly realised what he clicked your eyebrows shooting upwards “Not like that...I’m not like…” He muttered, a red creeping up over his face, as his hand crept up to itch the back of his neck. “Don’t really get the chance for anything like that with the…funny sleeping stuff and that…” he trailed off.

stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking. He told himself internally and shook his head, trying not to visibly shudder at his own awkward comment. How he’d just told you, the prettiest woman he’d seen in…god knows how long, that he had a restraint on his bed. God Steven, way to show off your glaring red flag.

“You…you have a restraint?” you paused, trying not to smile at the flustered man before you, as he now was staring directly at the spot where your desk met carpet. “To prevent the sleepwalking of course.”

The comment about not having the chance stuck out to you. Must mean he’s single.

“Yeah, uh..I have tape too for the… for the door. So I can’t get out and bother anyone…Tried to keep myself up aswell, listened to a podcast and did the stuff it said… puzzles, reading books, all that…didn’t work though…”

His eyes shot back to you as hand ran through his thick wavy hair again Everything about him was a bundle of nerves from the fidgeting to the eyes looking from you to the window and back to the tangents, now on top of that, he was worried his sleep issue would bother anyone. You couldn’t help but feel for him.

“And how long have you been using these… techniques for?”

“Oh god…” he blew out a long exhale “I don’t actually know…to be quite honest…ages now…Doctor”

“It’s okay Steven, anything that can help you is worth trying…and I’m not a doctor… I’m a sleep…tech…” you held your hands up. “I just check you in and help with results.”

“Oh..sorry…” he faltered, a little embarrassed , trying to find the words “…Ms. Sleep… Tech…Technician?… Technologist?”

He cringed inwardly at his own sentence only seconds after the words had left his mouth and for the… he’d lost count… time since he’d entered the room.

“Just….[Name]”

Once again, you weren’t pulling back, recoiling or phased by his awkwardness. You were, much to his surprise, smiling at him. Not the weird passive smile Donna gave him when asking, or rather telling him, to stay late. Not the fake nicety smile exhausted tourists usually gave him, you were actually smiling at him like you thought he was funny. The smile you were giving him was so genuine and warm, he felt himself relax under your eyes.

“You must always be well rested. Must be nice.” Steven attempted to extend the conversation, hoping his attempt wasn’t too ungraceful.

“Ah. You’d be surprised,” There was a smile toying at the corner of your mouth “I’m better at giving advice than I am at following it.”

“Suppose It’s like chefs innit…they come home and probably just Deliveroo themselves a Nando’s or KFC or something?”

You laughed “Yeah, exactly what I mean…Now look…I know this is going to sound cliche but…problems with sleep, it’s more common than you think.” Pausing, you put your notebook down, and leant in, elbows planted on the desk. “But basically in your deepest stage of sleep… your brain switches off the muscles… so you won’t be acting out your dreams or anything crazy. If you are in that stage, you won’t go anywhere, Steven.”

You turned one of your folders over and pushed a case plan towards him, and pointing out the diagrams with the end of your pen.

“We’ll chart your brainwaves whilst you’re asleep… then we can use them to work out what’s going on.”

“And that’ll help me?” He sounded hopeful as his gaze ran over the notes, following your make shift pointer.

“Yeah I hope so, i mean it might not stop the processes but it’ll help us understand what’s going on.”

“You must think I’m a right weirdo…but it’s nice…to talk to someone that isn’t my fish…or the living statue bloke,” Steven turned back to you, giving you a thankful look. “Or my boss.” He pulled a face.

“I don’t think you’re weird, Steven… I want to help you. I’ll listen for as long as you need me to”

You hadn’t automatically assumed he was some weirdo which was a relief. He felt comfortable with you like you actually wanted to help him rather than judging him.

There was a moments silence, then your eyes flicked down to the notebook that lay between you and back to Steven.

“Do you drink tea…or coffee?”

“Oh… um, just tea with soy milk and one sugar. Sometimes a hot chocolate? Although that’s not caffeine is it? I wouldn’t mind one of those flavoured ones, Think they do them that cafe around the corner if you’d like?” He grinned somewhat awkwardly “they do refills…which you know in London, gotta get your moneys worth… it’s expensive.”

You felt a heat creep up your face “Erm…it’s for the questionnaire? I need to know how much caffeine you’re drinking?”

“Oh..oh god I’m sorry, I’ve just put my foot in it havent I?… I thought you were…and now I’m rambling, I do that…”

“But…yes Steven. I’d love to have any hot drink with you…”

“Wait. Really?” Steven faltered, surprised.

“Of course. I finish at half five. I’ll meet you there.”

And when you’d walked into the cafe, saw him already waiting there, drink gently steaming on the table and book in hand, reading glasses on, you’d slid in beside him and had never looked back.

*

When Steven offered to meet you at your flat to go for dinner two days later, you agreed. It was suggestion, that had it come from any of the fuck boys in your Tinder matches would have had you hitting the un match button…but with Steven…you knew he was being sweet.

You knew he wasn’t just asking to try get into your place and into your underwear, although you wouldn’t have minded. He was asking because he didn’t want you to walk to the Tube station alone in the dark.

Steven had wrapped up in a winter coat, and worn a dark blue scarf and matching gloves. He brought chocolate and a dozen pink roses, which as he’d handed over, he’d told you that he noticed your notebook had been pink and thought it was a safe bet for the colour. Before you could say thank you he’d already apologised for the chocolates incase you hated them or incase he’d got the colour wrong.

You’d kissed him on the cheek, told them they were perfect and that you’d share the chocolates with him, before linking your gloved hands together and starting your walk to your favourite Asian restaurant in Camden, where he’d had a tofu version of a curry and you’d had chicken teriyaki skewers. It was closing time before you’d left arm in arm, giggling as you walked together.

As you made your way back to the Tube station, Steven had excitedly wanted to try a bubble waffle, so you’d opted for a shared vegan friendly version and ate it with two forks. You’d hugged him outside the station then met him outside his work two days later…and before long you’d fallen into an easy pattern of dating.

The first time he hadn’t called when he said he would, was one month into dating and he was eight hours late. Steven had saw the voicemails left from you and panicked, fully expecting the “you’re an arsehole, never talk to me again” but no, you’d called him to check he was okay, came by his place and even posted a card through his letterbox telling him you were thinking of him and you hoped he was okay.

You were worried.

Steven kept that card in the top drawer of his beside table alongside a napkin from your first date, one of the gratuity sweets from your second, the first note you’d ever wrote to him, a puzzle you’d bought to do together and a model pyramid you’d saw online and thought of him. You’d said you just saw it on Amazon, but it wasn’t one you could just buy. Steven knew from the model that you’d have had to buy it from a specific retailer. You’d never tell him you googled it specifically but he loved that you did.

He knew he loved you then and there

*

“Hey babe.” You stuck your head around the entrance to the gift shop and grinned at him.

Steven, at the sight of you, dropped the plush back into a box and ran to you, squeezing you tight.

“Hiya love, I’m just finishing up here. Won’t be five minutes and I’ll be over to you” he kept his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck and kissed him before reaching up and straightening the collar of his patterned shirt

“Okay, babe. I’ll just wander around. We can go to that new bakery if you like. I’ve checked the menu, they do have vegan options.”

His lips curled into a smile and he squeezed your hand by way of thanking you before you headed off to wait for him.

“That sounds brilliant. Really good!”

“Stevie!” A call rang out from across the room and Steven rolled his eyes

“Oh fuck Donna.”

“Stevie! I told you the answers no. So just stop talking to guests…alright? Leave it to the real tour guides…”She turned to you, not giving him the chance to reply “Is he bothering you?”

“Actually…” you wrapped your arm around Steven. “He’s not. I’m…”

“Oh…Stevie’s girlfriend.” Donna pointed at you “Gunna be honest, thought he’d made you up. Kept saying you were dead pretty and let him talk. Didn’t actually think you were real.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Thought he was bothering the guests again!”

“Well Steven is a wealth of information, and I want my info from the best source” you gave her as friendly of a smile as you could muster.

“Best source is a tour guide” she smiled “but I’m glad he has someone to listen to his weird rambling.”

“I’d rather hear about it from someone with a passion for it”

“I’m sure our guides are plenty passionate.” She turned on her heel to face Steven. “Clock off please. I’m not paying you to chat to your girlfriend.”

“Sure, Donna. Pleasure as always.” He gave a curt wave, however she had already stalked off before she could return the acknowledgment. “Back in a sec, love.” He leant in and pecked your lips before disappearing off to clock out.

When he returned a few minutes later you linked you arm through his, and noticing he looked slightly dejected, attempted to offer him some comfort.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. I’ve done a few of these tours and I’ve learnt more from listening to you at home than I have from any of them”

“Really?” He perked up “Cause we have this new exhibit, it’s basically like the super group of Egyptian gods and it’s really interesting…the posters only show seven but there’s nine and…” Steven was suddenly conscious he was babbling but when he looked at you, he was still holding your attention.

“Tell me about it?” You asked him.

“About the super group?” Steven was quick to check, excited at the chance to discuss his passion before stopping. “I don’t want to bore you, love”

“You won’t.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze through

Steven could never bore you, everything about him was captivating. He was so excited and so passionate about Egyptian mythology that you couldn’t help but be drawn in by his wide eyed enthusiasm. You liked it when he went off on a tangent. It was cute.

“I love you, you know. And not just because you let me go on about Egyptology or that, I just really do love you, and I never thought I’d get that.”

“I love you too Steven.” You kissed him. “Now tell me about these super gods, I wanna know about the missing ones…”

***a few weeks later***

Marc froze. You were half asleep-half awake, the lights from the window, casting bright lights through the window of Stevens flat. You looked angelic, the slopes of your face, the curves of your body as you pulled the duvet tighter.

He’d watched from the background as you and Steven had fallen for each other over the past few months and Marc had, having seen how you were to Steven, had fallen for you too.

He’d realised it when he saw how gentle you were with Steven, after he’d woken one night when you’d been staying the night. He’d stumbled back to bed, a struggle to keep control of the body and barely collapsed into a half slumber before Steven had woke with a jolt around fifteen minutes later, pulling hard at the restraint and checking around him.

**flashback**

“Hey hey, it’s me babe, you’re okay…” you, on instinct, sat up next to Steven. He was checking the restraint, pulling at it hard to make sure it was in place. “…Steven, babe. You’re here, I’m with you, it’s okay.”

You reached for him slowly not making contact until Steven turned to meet your eyes. He was breathing heavy, chest heaving and shoulders tight, brow furrowed as you wrapped one arm around him and held his hand with the other.

“Steven. You haven’t had anything like this in a while.”

It was the first time you’d been there when it had happened. Usually, if Steven had a rough night, he’d call you and you’d talk and you’d stay with him listening.

“Im here babe.” You whispered

“Youre here.” His voice sounded so small and lost and such a far cry from how you’d ever heard him. A part of your heart broke seeing your usual bubbly, chatty Steven such a wreck. “I thought you’d left.”

“No. No.” You pulled him into you, lying back with his head on your shoulder as you carefully carded your hand through his curls. “I’m not leaving.…” You reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please stay for now”

“Of course, for as long as you need me.”

**

Marc had felt so guilty that night that he’d resolved that he wouldn’t go far when you were staying the night. Steven deserved some happiness, a sense of peace, some chance to be normal so tonight he’d kept it short, a quick hour before returning back to you.

Marc wondered if he’d met you first…rather than Steven, would you have fallen in love with him? Would you be stroking circles on his back and whispering sweet nothings to him when he woke in the dead of the night, freaked out and panicking.

He doubted it. Everything you loved was so rooted in Steven. Sweet, endearingly quirky, good-natured, warm hearted, clever Steven, who was nothing like Marc.

You were always staring at Steven, looking in his big wide eyes, playing with the fluffy curls that Marc usually slicked back, sliding your hands under Steven’s oversized clothes that Marc hated, asking him questions about the book Steven was reading that Marc didn’t know anything about, offering suggestions for whatever puzzle Steven was looking at that Marc didn’t care for, you cooked Steven vegan versions of your own lunches where Marc would have preferred the meat, you left cute notes for Steven to find. You called him Babe all the time.

Steven deserved the world but, god how Marc was jealous. He wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Steven. He could feel it heavy on his shoulders as he breathed and like an open wound in his chest.

“Steven?” He froze in the spot where he was, you turned over in the bed, voice half asleep. “Come back to bed. It’s cold.” You muttered

“Shhh, back to sleep.” He had hoped you wouldn’t notice the change from London to American as he whispered approaching the bed.

“Babe you’re talking different.” you muttered.

The second of silence that passed felt like an age to Marc, the only sound was his hammering heart rate, before you filled the room with a sleepy laugh “You’re so funny…I love you Steven.”

And like that you were back to sleep, leaving Marc alone with his own racing heart.

**a few weeks later**

Steven had been gone for five days. You’d spent most of your mornings leaving early for work to drop in on him and see if he’d shown up, your lunch breaks scouring the local news to see if an anonymous man had shown up in any hospitals, you’d called almost every hospital and police station within a ten mile radius. The police had told you they’d “note his name and description” and let you know. By Wednesday you’d even went to his work twice only for Donna to tell you Steven doesn’t work here.

You’d began to wonder you should be going back to the police to tell them the missing person you’d reported still had not shown up when you heard a knocking at your door

“Gimme a minute,” You called out as pulled yourself off the sofa and headed to the door. Hauling it open you half expected to see your neighbour or the postman. What you were not expecting to see was your boyfriend, in a baggy navy jumper, hair sticking up at all angles and looking like he’d come off a 72 hour all nighter.

He wouldn’t have of course, Steven barely drank so you couldn’t process exactly how or what the fuck had happened until he spoke.

“Hi.” He managed to get out “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“Steven…You‘ve been gone for days…where the fuck where you?” Your mouth formed the words, quieter, more concerned than angry.

Instead of saying a word, you felt him slump into your arms, exhausted.

“Fucking hell Steven, what happened?” You repeated yourself with a mutter as you looped an arm around his waist and the other you used to support him and helped him to the couch, where he flopped down. Your heart ached just looking at him.

“Don’t go.” He murmured, “Stay here.”

“I’m just getting you a blanket and a cuppa, babe… okay?” You brushed some of his curls back as he nodded. “I’ll be back in two minutes… I promise.”

You kissed his head and exactly two minutes later, you returned a steaming mug of tea and your favourite sage green blanket. You’d bought it in the Dunlem sale and it never left your bed until it made its way to Stevens. You’d wrapped him in it once when he’d fallen asleep at his desk and he’d looked so adorable you’d insisted he kept it.

“Are you okay? Should I be calling an ambulance or the police or something?”

His hands knotted around the edges as you draped it over him and sat the mug in front of him. You sat in silence beside him until he’d had a few large gulps. Steven shook his head

“I’m okay…no ambulance. no police needed. It’s alright..”

“Steven. You have to tell me where you were.” You tried “Please. I thought you were missing or dead, I kept expecting to see your picture on the news as a fucking body found.”

“You wouldn’t believe me…” he let out a tiny impression of a laugh “I mean not just you… no one would and I don’t blame them.”

“I will…I promise.”

“It sounds made up”

“Babe, not that long ago Spider-Man had a fight on Tower Bridge, and before that half the world disappeared and came back and before that Thor had a fight with that…alien thing in Greenwich and before that if you’d asked me, I’d say that shit only happens in New York but I’m three out of three of mad things that have happened to me so nothing you say is going to freak me out… but saying nothing is…” You pressed your head to his. “Please…please tell me where you were.”

Steven sighed, you looked so desperate to help, so worried and he could hear Marc, telling him to be honest with you, not being honest with Layla had cost him his relationship, and although they were still friends, he didn’t want the same to happen to you.

“Yeah okay…” he started “but you got to let me tell you the whole thing, alright? No matter how mental it sounds.”

You smiled. “Of course.”

And for the whole time, you kept your attention on him, nodding, asking questions and squeezing his hand”

“Suppose that’s it all.” He said with a finish “I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me anymore…”

“Steven.” You pulled him into a hug, hands reaching up to rub his back. “I believe you and I love you and of course I still want to go out with you.”

“But all I do is cause problems for everyone…I don’t want to mess up your-.”

“You could never be a problem. Not for me.”

“I will eventually.”

“Steven, there is no problem you could cause that would be too big. You were never a problem to me.” Your head shook vehemently “and you never will be. Not now, not ever. You and me always.”

“I love you…” he muttered leaning in and pressing his head to yours so softly “forever”

“…I love you so much.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me…us.” He paused, as you tilted your head with a smile “Marc won’t come forward now but he cares for you. A lot.”

“Steven, you will always be enough for me…but one day I’d like to meet him…Marc…if that’s okay with both of you…when he’s ready.”

Steven nodded. “I think he’d like that too.”

The relief lifted a weigh off his shoulders and he felt himself settle back into the sofa. You joined him, and slipped your arms around him, pulling the blanket around you both.

“I’ve missed you.” You muttered quietly.

“I missed you too.”

Steven kissed you softly and started to apologise before you planted another kiss on his lips, softly and gently.

“Shhh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad I have my boyfriend back.” You gave him an easy smile and he leant in.

.“I’m glad I’m back too…love. To the rest of our lives Eh?” He leant in to you as you repeated his sentiment.

“To the rest of our lives”

[stevesbestgirl]

Phases of the Moon - Part 4

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

4880 words

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, chances of a few swears, reader is still oblivious in the beginning and as always, painfully American, reader has a few moments of insecurity

A/N: Not a warning, but honestly, this is disgusting. Like it’s so cute it should be illegal. And I’m not sorry. Steven Grant being an absolute sweetheart means that it’s all fair game. Posting the first date in two parts at the same time because it’s ridiculously long.

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

“Steven?” You were surprised to see he was calling you. You hadn’t made plans with him for Saturday, had you?

“Could you come to the museum today?” Steven skipped the greetings, his words blending together in his haste to get them out.

You chuckled, “I suppose I could. Are we touring more today?”

“Not today. But if it’s alright, I’d sort of like it to be a surprise.”

Your brows pinched; what was he up to now? “Alright then. It’s not more of those awful candies from the gift shop, is it?” You’d dared Steven to try one after he’d complained about their lack of relevance to Egypt, arguing that they were still a good product if they tasted good. They were not a good product, as it turned out and you’d both found out the hard way.

He laughed, the sound making your heart skip, even over the phone, “No, it’s a good surprise. At least I think it is.”

Now curiosity was gnawing at you a bit, “What time then?”

“When can you arrive?”

“Maybe a half hour, depending on if the bus is running on time.”

“Let’s say twelve then- don’t want you rushin’ around.” His words didn’t quite match his eager tone. 

“Right, guess I’ll see you in a bit then.” 

You really weren’t sure what to make of any of this; it was outside your routine with Steven- outside the carefully laid boundaries you’d set for yourself. But you still hung up and got dressed, said goodbye to Dalton, and headed out to wait for the bus.

Meanwhile, Steven was fiddling with his collar in the mirror, “I don’t know why I have to try the tie every time- I know it doesn’t work.”

“You’re a mystery, Steven,” Marc quipped. He liked seeing Steven all whipped up like this. “Maybe you should try the jacket again.”

Steven stared at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, “Don’t be putting ideas into my head, I’m all mixed up as it is.” He glanced at his phone on the bedside table, “D’you think she sounded excited?”

“About the gift shop candies? No.”

“Marc-”

“Fine. But isn’t it a little hard to be excited about something you don’t know about?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Steven admitted, his excitement quickly morphing into nervousness. 

“She sounded happy to hear from you, Steven. Don’t overthink it. Just listen to your gut. And me.”

“Right. Gotta listen to my gut.” 

“And me.”

Steven hesitated, “Sure.”

At five to twelve, you stepped off the bus and crossed the street to the museum. You’d thought you would see Steven out front, but there were only a few stray patrons on their way into the museum. Making your way up the steps, you paused in the entrance, spotting Donna at the information desk. 

Skirting around the edge of the room, you made a beeline for the gift shop, but you heard Donna’s voice call out, “Oi, you!” You kept walking, hoping she wasn’t talking to you, but then her footsteps approached, “Hang on a second, would you?” How was it possible for someone to be so disagreeable so consistently?

You looked now and she was indeed speaking to you and, as always, she looked rather cross, “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Are you out of your mind, bringing food into a museum?” Your expression must have betrayed you because she looked a bit smug, “That’s right, JB told me about last night. He also told me that our boy Stevie got all riled up when he shooed you out.” She smirked at that, as though the idea of Steven upset was somehow satisfying.

“Actually-”

“I haven’t got time to hear your reasons, alright? I know you and Stevie had a date scheduled for yesterday or whatever, but just because your boyfriend works here doesn’t mean you can do whatever you please.”

“Steven and I are-”

She cut you off again, “I won’t ban you this time because I suspect he might just quit if I did and I need someone to cover the shop next week, but don’t press your luck, you understand?”

You’d given up on replying, so you just nodded, absently wondering if Steven had called it a date or if Donna was paraphrasing. Donna cocked an eyebrow, “You mute or something? I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

“Right. Then trot on- he’s in the gift shop.” She shook her head, “In on his day off again-” the rest of her musing was unintelligible as you parted ways. 

Donna was right about one thing; Steven was in the gift shop, fiddling with his unruly curls in the mirror behind the counter while the staff member manning the counter tried awkwardly to avoid meeting his gaze. You watched him for a second, a small smile at the corners of your mouth. 

He looked a bit more put together today, if only a bit. His shirt was plain, not one of the patterned ones he normally seemed to favor. His jacket didn’t seem quite as wrinkled as usual either, almost like he’d made a vain attempt at ironing it.

“Got a big date tonight, Steven?” It was a stupid thing to say; what would you do if he said yes? But he was too cute not to tease, fussing over his hair as if he would ever cooperate with him. 

He gave a start, whipping around and burying his hands deep in his pockets to hide the evidence. He shuffled over to you, hands still buried, and the awkward gait almost made you laugh aloud; he was definitely nervous about something. 

Steven tried to smile, but it almost looked painful, “I was, ah- actually sort of hoping that might be the case.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “You were…hoping you’d have a date?” He was biting his lip, his hands still buried in his pockets; that one stray curl was slowly being pulled back into its usual spot by gravity, determined to spite his efforts at styling it. 

And then you got it, just as Steven spoke again, “Would you wanna- you know, go on a date with me today?” Your lips parted in surprise; you’d resigned yourself to never hearing those words. Your moment of shock was enough time for Steven to lose a bit of his nerve, “It’s alright if not, apologies if I’m out of line-”

“I’d love to.”

He didn’t seem to notice your response, “I’d be devastated if you and I weren’t friends anymore, so I understand-”

“Steven,” you said, more firmly this time. “I’d love to go out with you.”

There was another pause as your words sunk in, “You would? You’re not just having a laugh? Because I’ll be crushed if you are, honestly-”

A laugh bubbled out of you and you reached for him, hesitating a bit, “Is it alright if I-”

He nodded rapidly, “Y-yeah, course.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle in a hug, tucking your head into his shoulder. He did seem surprised at first, his arms rising to make room for you and then hovering for a few moments before he gently rested them on your back.

You breathed deeply, that distinctly “Steven” scent washing over you. “I thought I was just pining like an idiot,” you admitted, your words muffled.

Steven felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hug- a real hug. And it was you. Your head was tucked against his shoulder, your breath on his neck. Realizing he’d been holding his own breath, he forced himself to exhale and then inhale. It took a couple of repetitions to find a rhythm again. He could smell something sweet; he wasn’t sure if it was perfume or just soap, but he thought it might be making him dizzy. Or maybe that was just you.

He knew he was too stiff- unused to the sensation of that much physical contact, but god, he didn’t want you to go. He wanted to hold you like this for as long as you’d let him. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure what you’d been asking for, but he would’ve agreed to just about anything you’d asked. 

And you’d been pining for him? He’d been a bit pleased with himself for deducing that you’d liked him, but it was entirely different to hear you say it out loud. 

His heart ached when you pulled away, unwinding your arms from around his back, but then you smiled and he didn’t mind as much. 

You couldn’t have put the relief you felt into words if you’d tried. You glanced around the gift shop; the clerk was still pointedly looking anywhere but at you two and you felt a bit guilty. Grabbing Steven’s hand, you pulled him into the next room, “Not that I mind, but why didn’t you just ask me out when you called?”

Steven looked a bit affronted at the question, “Well you don’t ask someone on a date over the phone, do you?”

You smiled at his conviction, “Of course not. The only proper place to ask a girl out is in a museum.”

“Well, it’s not the only place-” he paused, “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Only a little.”

That warm glow swept up his cheeks, “I should have asked you when we were here last week, except I botched it. So I thought that maybe if I did it here for real, I could- you know- do it over.” He followed up quickly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I’ve wanted to take you on a date since the first day I saw you, but I didn’t want to rush it, you know? And I’m sure it seemed like that was what I was asking, but it never even occurred to me since I wanted to take you on a proper date, ‘cause that’s what you deserve.” 

Steven was rambling; you probably should have stopped him, but instead, you listened to him speak, a faint smile on your face. He was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you’d ever met. 

He stopped, noticing the way you were watching him, “And here I’m going on and on and you can’t get a word in edgewise- that’s fantastic, Steven.” He bopped himself on the temple with his palm in a show of penance before you had the chance to speak. 

“I like listening to you talk.”

“I think you’d be the first,” he chuckled, suddenly self-conscious.

“I’m quite happy to be,” you assured him. “Shall we get started then?”

Steven nodded, “Right, yeah- I thought we could get some lunch. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I should I have said something on the phone, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes-”

You were smiling again, “Lunch sounds good, Steven.” 

“Great. After you then?” 

He gestured grandly, making you laugh, and following you out into the lobby. You could see Donna muttering something to JB at security as you and Steven left the museum together. 

He began walking down the sidewalk and you followed his lead, “So was yesterday supposed to be a date then? Donna seemed to think so.” You couldn’t help teasing a bit more; you were feeling giddy. 

“I meant to ask you to dinner after the tour.” He looked a bit chagrined, “I thought dinner might be a bit more romantic.”

You felt the corner of your mouth twitch upward, “We could have done dinner today, if you’d have preferred.”

The rosy glow returned to his cheeks, “Well I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure I could wait all day to call you.”

You leaned in, your shoulder brushing his, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“When did you talk to Donna?” 

“She caught me on my way in- scolded me a bit about the pizza. Said she wouldn’t ban me this time only because she didn’t want you to quit.” He looked a bit distressed until you gave him a reassuring smile. Your hand brushed the back of his. You were walking close on purpose, hoping he might take the lead, but he’d been taking things slow, so you didn’t want to rush him. 

He chuckled in disbelief, “She said she didn’t want me to quit?”

“Well, she said she needed you to work the desk next week.”

“Now that sounds more like Donna,” he grimaced. Though he quickly brightened, “Ah, here we are.” He stopped outside a little cafe; it was rather cute, with little, iron-wrought tables out front under the awning. He peered into the front window, looking like he’d suddenly remembered his nerves. 

“Have you been here before?”

“Just once. I thought it was quite nice, so I made sure to remember it in case- well, in case I ever had someone to bring.” 

“It looks cute. Shall we get a table?”

He nodded, rushing to get the door for you, smiling at your flustered thank you. The woman manning the counter smiled, “Will it be two then?”

Steven’s head bobbed rapidly, “Yes, two. Just us- on a date, you know.” He cleared his throat and you glanced at him, trying not to smile. He grimaced, “Sorry. Bit nervous.”

The server smiled, “That’s lovely. Pick a table wherever you like and I’ll be over for your drinks in just a few moments.”

“What do you think? Outside?” you prompted, trying to save Steven the anxiety of deciding where to sit. 

“Sure- I mean, yes, that sounds quite nice.”

You led the way back out, opening the door for him, which sent him tumbling into a spout of flustered thanks intermingled with halfhearted protests. As if to compensate, he pulled your chair out for you before taking his own seat across from you, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands.

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just like all the times we chatted at the museum. You were never nervous then.”

He smiled weakly in return, “Hard to be nervous when you’re spoutin’ off facts about ancient Egypt, innit?”

“I’m just as interested in what you have to say now as I was then. Arguably, I never cared so much about Egypt as I do when you tell me about it,” you admitted.

“I suppose that explains why your pronunciations could use some work.”

You opened your mouth, gasping in mock offense, “You said I was getting better!”

Steven panicked, “Oh god, I was only trying to tease you, they aren’t really that bad-” He cut off when you smiled, catching on to the joke again.

You laughed, “I’m sorry I keep teasing you, Steven. It’s sweet how you get so flustered.”

He chuckled weakly, “Maybe that’s why Donna is always so cross with me.”

He was joking, so he was surprised to see your expression harden,  “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but why do you stay at the museum when she’s so awful to you? I know you love Egypt, but I’m sure there��s lots of other jobs that could use someone as smart as you.” You spoke with conviction, but your gaze kept pulling to where his hand rested on the table.

He glanced down at his shoes, “Well, I would really like to become a guide someday. You’re givin' me too much credit anyway.”

“I’m definitely not giving you too much credit, Steven,” you insisted. “You know so much about Egypt; you’re probably overqualified to be a guide. Donna is wasting your potential. And even if she won’t make you a guide, she should treat you better.”

He shrugged, “It’s not so bad. I like spending time at the museum. Plus, I’m lucky to have got my job back after I got binned.”

“They fired you?” you asked incredulously.

Steven rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I deserved it though. Bunked off for a couple of days without calling.”

You looked puzzled; you couldn’t imagine anything making Steven jeopardize his job, “Like a mental health thing?”

He offered a weak smile, “Something like that.” 

You weren’t planning to press; you knew how that could go, but the silence was saved by the arrival of the server, offering you the lunch menus and taking your drink orders. Steven ordered a white tea and while you were tempted just to get the same as him, you were afraid you might not like it; you didn’t have much experience with tea. You ordered a chai tea, the only kind you really recognized on the menu. 

You wanted to mention the fact that you were on a leave of absence from your own job- maybe it would make him feel better. But talking about that was a direct line to why you’d come here in the first place and that wasn’t exactly a first date topic.

So instead you tipped your head, “I suppose as long as you’re happy there. I’ll try to hold my tongue with Donna, if only for your sake.”

“Sorry love, I’m afraid she’ll probably have it out for you if you’re associated with me.” He looked genuinely apologetic, like you may have wanted the opportunity to be friends with his witch of a boss.

“You think? Maybe if I tell her we’ve had an awful time, she’ll forgive me and I can get back on her good side.”

He gave a hesitant chuckle, like he couldn’t tell if you were joking, “If you insult me enough, I’m sure you could.” He paused a moment, “You’re not, are you? Having an awful time, I mean.”

“I’m actually having quite a lovely time with you, Steven,” you slid your hand across the table, brushing the edge of his fingers with yours.

“There we are, two teas: a chai and a white.” Steven quickly moved his arm out of the way as the server returned with the drinks. You did the same, busying yourself toying with the menu. “Do you both know what you’ll have?”

You placed your orders and the server disappeared again, taking the menus with her. You gave your tea a cautionary, cooling blow before taking a sip. Steven watched you curiously, making you a bit self-conscious, “What? Am I drinking my tea like an American?”

He grinned guiltily, “A bit, yeah, actually.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “How is that then?” You rested your chin in your palm, waiting for his answer. 

“You sipped it like you were afraid of it,” he chuckled, drinking his own, the correct way, you presumed. 

You let your hand fall to the table with indignation, “I haven’t had much tea up until now. Apologies if I’m not a natural tea drinker.” You rolled your eyes, hoping he was catching on to when you were joking. 

He moved quickly, like he was afraid to lose his nerve, resting his hand on top of yours on the table, “I think it’s quite cute, actually.” He tipped his head to your cup, resolutely not looking at your hands on the table, as though you’d believe he was feeling nonchalant, “How d’you like it then?”

You bit your lip to suppress a smile, flicking your gaze to his, “Not bad. I could be a tea girl.” 

Once it became clear that you weren’t going to pull away from his touch, he curled his fingers around yours. His palms were surprisingly rough. He swallowed a bit thickly, “I could make some different kinds for you to try sometime, if you wanted.”

“I’d like that.”

His thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand, the movement slow and deliberate, “D’you wanna try a bit of mine?”

You gave him a small smirk, “Drinking from the same cup? That’s a bit like indirect kissing, isn’t it Steven?”

His eyes went wide, “I didn’t mean anything untoward. You’re right, that was a bit silly-” 

Your laugh broke his train of thought and he faltered, “I’d love to try it, Steven.” You held out your free hand toward the cup, “Unless you mind, of course.”

He shook his head, “No- no, course not.” 

You paused before taking a sip, “D’you want to try mine? Fair’s fair.”

He looked surprised at your offer, but he nodded, reaching for your cup, his hand looking a bit shaky. You raised his cup in a small toast, smiling at him before taking a sip. 

“Pretty good,” you admitted, returning his cup to its saucer in front of him. “And you?”

He nodded again, “Good.” He liked the faint spice of a chai tea, but he couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that your lips probably had that same spice lingering on them right now. But he was getting ahead of himself.  He was already pleased just to be holding your hand. Just brushing his thumb over your soft skin made his heart race. 

So when the server came over with the food, he almost wished it had taken longer because he wasn’t ready yet. He thought he might have to manually unwind his fingers from your hand because he really didn’t want to let go, but when the moment came, he released you, not realizing that his emotions were transparently displayed on his face.

You thanked the server and waited until she departed to smile at Steven, “You’ll get to hold my hand again, Steven.”

He gave a weak chuckle, “Am I that obvious then?”

“A little. But I think it’s very sweet.”

He still looked a bit nervous before blurting out, “Sorry. I’m a bit new at this sort of thing.” His expression changed instantly to one of regret; like he’d had an agreement not to disclose that particular tidbit and failed to keep his word.

You had questions; how new did he mean exactly? But it was obvious that he was embarrassed by it, so rather than ask your questions, you sampled a fry from your plate, “That’s alright- no shame there. I’d rather you be a bit new than some tosser who thinks he knows everything.” You laughed at the new word, “Did I use that right? I’m still learning the slang here.”

He nodded, “Yeah, that’s how you use it.” He took a moment, appearing to rouse himself, “But you’ve gotta sort of throw it away- like you don’t care. It’s not a word you use quite so deliberately; it’s more like they’re an afterthought, yeah?” He seemed to remember his own food, suddenly realizing he could eat.

You nodded, pleased to see him relax a bit again, “Right, I’ll remember that. I’ve started picking up a few things from my cousin and his wife, so if I misuse something, you’ll need to let me know, alright? I’m counting on you to keep me from sounding like an idiot.”

“Well, I might not be the best for that job- I’m fairly certain I sound like a knob all the time.”

“You do not!” You rolled your eyes, “Just because Donna and JB don’t appreciate you doesn’t mean you’re- what was it, a knob?”

His face flushed; he wondered if he should have chosen his words more carefully- not very romantic for a first date, “Yeah that was it.”

“What’s that one mean then?” He almost choked on his food and you followed hastily, “Oh god, I was only teasing you, Steven. I know what it means. I’m so sorry.”

But he wasn’t annoyed at your ill-timed joke, he only cleared his throat, muttering, “Oh, thank the gods.”

You made a little sound of excitement, “Oh! Speaking of the gods, we’re still going to finish our tour, right?”

Steven cocked his head, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, you said the museum tour wasn’t your idea of a date, but I would quite like to finish it. I might’ve been more interested in learning about you than the museum the first few times I came back, but now I’m a bit invested. In both, actually.”

Steven gazed at you, his eyes soft, “You came back because you were interested in me?”

“Well, the first time I came in, I really meant to just walk the museum that day. But I was a bit embarrassed after making a fool of myself-”

“You got knocked over, that’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” Steven interjected.

You raised an eyebrow, “So if someone knocked you down in front of a pretty girl, you wouldn’t be embarrassed at all?”

“Well of course I would, but I’m no pretty girl, am I?” he gave a nervous chuckle. 

“Steven, you are very handsome, first of all. And second of all, you were so sweet to me that day that I was absolutely mortified. So I bailed and decided to come back and hope I would run into you again.” You sipped your tea to cover your embarrassment.

Steven couldn’t seem to formulate a response, but you took that as a positive sign, considering he had a dopey half-smile on his face. You wondered how far and few between compliments were for him to react this way; he seemed so stunned by your interest in him.

“At risk of sounding forward, I’d like to go out with you again, but I don’t want to give up the tour. So maybe you can make an exception for me and we can plan a date to finish the tour so I can stop wasting your breaks.”

That appeared to break him from his stupor, “You haven’t wasted anything- spending time with you is the best way I can think of to use my break time- or any time, really.”

You smiled, “I do like visiting you. But if I keep making you go over on your break, I might end up banned from the museum.”

“Maybe I would quit then,” he offered. 

You pointed a fry at him, “I wouldn’t let you. We can follow the rules so no one gets banned or fired.”

“You know, if you’re feeling up to it, we could go back to the museum today,” he suggested, hesitating a moment before clarifying, “If you want to, of course.”

You nodded, “I’d like that.”

He held your gaze seriously, “You’ll still come to visit me on my break even once we’ve finished the tour, yeah?”

You laughed, his intensity making you self-conscious, “Of course I will.”

“Then we’ve got a deal.” He beamed, making your heart skip. You’d been on one date with the man and you were already good and smitten. Steven raised his hand to signal the server that you were ready for the bill and you reached for your wallet. “Come on now, put that away,” he insisted. “Call me old-fashioned, but it’s on me.”

“Steven-”

“I asked you here today, it’s only right that I should pay.” As the server approached with the bill, he hastily placed a few notes into her hand before she could even drop the slip on the table, “Keep the change, love.” Hearing him call the server “love” made a tiny spark of jealousy erupt in the pit of your stomach.

But he sprang out of his seat, rushing around the table to help you push back your chair and offering you a hand up. As you stood, he not-so-subtly slipped his hand into yours. You smirked at him, “Smooth.”

He dropped your hand, “Oh god, sorry, is it a bit much?”

You laughed, chasing his hand with yours, “Wait, come back!” Steven thought his heart might stop as you laced your fingers through his. “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know. I like you a lot, Steven.” You wrinkled your nose, “That is a bit much for a first date, huh?”

He shook his head, “No- yeah- I like you quite a bit.” God, you made him want to relax, but every time he did he grew too bold. He wanted to treat you with respect. And god forbid he do something to offend, making you come to your senses and tell him to get lost.

You half smiled, “I don’t think ‘quite a bit’ is very much compared to ‘a lot,’ you know. Should I be offended?” You made no move to remove your hand from his, so he was pretty sure you were teasing.

“No offense intended. I like you a great deal. And I think you’re quite lovely, I might add.”

You looked away, your lips betraying you with a smile, “Normally I wouldn’t believe such a nice comment, but if you spend all your time with Donna and JB, I’m sure even I seem lovely in comparison.”

Steven spoke before he could talk himself out of it, “You’d seem stunning next to a rose, love.”

Despite all of your effort to brush off your embarrassment, your face burned, “Bit prickly though, aren’t they?"

“Some things are worth gettin’ stuck on, yeah?” He brushed his thumb over your knuckle where your fingers were intertwined. 

You were entirely speechless. He was so earnest that you couldn’t even be annoyed about how cliche that was because he seemed to really mean it. You gave his hand a little squeeze in lieu of a response; nothing you could come up with was the right way to reply to something like that.

[rattymess]

Kabedon-ing Headcanons w/ Moon Knight System

Genre: Fluff (but it might get a leeeetol explicit ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )) Pairing(s): Steven Grant x Reader; Marc Spector x Short!Reader; Jake Lockley x Tall!Reader Summary: In which you want to kabedon the moon boys Word Count: 1500-ish Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing, (I can't think of any more at the moment) Author's Note: I thought of this at the late hours of the night (as rats tend to do) ┬┴┬┴┤(･_ ├┬┴┬┴ ...anyways, here's a youtube link if you don't know what a kabedon is: https://youtube.com/shorts/YpoqG_VBNas?si=Wywo9pQ2clL6ZbsW

STEVEN GRANT:

You’re both getting ready to go home after your shift at the museum

As he’s fiddling with his coat, you remember a video you saw on the internet and stare mischievously at Steven 

“Hey, Steven?” You motion for him to come closer

He stops adjusting his coat, putting all of his attention on you

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you know what a kabedon is?”

He’s a bit confused, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively at your question

“K-Kabedon? What’s that?”

Seeing your shit-eating grin, he gets a little nervous and starts fiddling with his fingers

“You’ll love it,” you say as you take his hands in yours 

Honestly, he wouldn’t be that anxious if you weren’t quietly chuckling so hard

“Move by that corner of the wall over there.”

“H-Huh? Oh, okay”

“Put your hands together like this,” you say as you grip your hands together

He’s sweating a little but he cautiously does what you say

“Put one of your hands up, Steven.”

He gulps

“Steven, I’m not going to kill you. Come on.”

Trembling, his right hand slowly lifts up from his hold

You slide your right hand into his, holding his fist

“Now that wasn’t so bad, right, Steven?”

A little bit flustered by your touch, he clears his throat

“I guess not…but what are you–OH!”

You quickly lift your right hand onto the wall above, teasingly pushing poor Steven into the corner with your left arm with a small thud

He’s turning red now, a fluttering mess that’s looking everywhere but your face

You hold your right hand still, with little to no resistance from Steven

You gently prod his chin up to stare into your eyes

You examine his face, from his quivering pink lips to his pinkening cheeks to his messy curls that are a little tousled by the wall, and then down to his widening doe eyes that are locked onto yours 

“You’re so much cuter up close, Steven.”

“H-Huh?” He sputters out, his brain still trying to get a sense of the predicament he’s in

“I said,” you repeat louder. “You’re so much cuter up close.”

His words get choked up in his throat, rendering him silent

Thinking you might’ve crossed a boundary, you gently put his hands down and swiftly disentangle your hand from his

“I-I’m sorry, Steven. I think I did something I shouldn’t have.” 

You back up a step from his figure, lowering your head in shame

“N-NO!”

You look back up, confusion clearly littering across your face

“Please hold my hand again,” Steven blubbered out, desperation clinging to his words

Oh?

You slowly reach your hands out to Steven, as if one wrong move might startle him again

He clasps your hands together, flustered and still a little bit embarrassed after what just occurred

“Guess you really liked it, huh?” You say, grinning ear to ear as you tug him out of the corner

“Yeah,” he replies, reciprocating your grin

“I guess I did.”

MARC SPECTOR:

“Hey, Marc!”

Marc’s normally-scowling face softens as he sees you sprint to him from across the hall

“Can I try something on you?”

“Hm?”

He eyes you cautiously, trying to figure out your intentions. You aren’t usually this chipper

He sighs. 

What can you possibly do anyway?

“Fine.”

You bounce on your feet, beaming as you point to his door

“Can I come in?”

He shrugs, fitting his key into the lock and twisting the handle to open the door

“Be my guest.”

Before he can even walk past his doorway, he sees you quickly kick off your shoes before darting into his living room

“STAY RIGHT THERE!” You scream behind your shoulder to Marc

He furrows his eyebrows, crossing his arms as he waits for you. What the hell?

You come back with one of his chairs in your arms

“Sit down.” 

You pat the chair in front of you lightly as you place it right in front of the door

Marc cocks his eyebrow, a slight frown evident on his face

“Why?”

You groan.

“Just do it, Marc.”

“Fine, fine.”

He roughly plops himself down onto the chair, arms still crossed 

He kind of looks like a primary school child in time-out, honestly

You’re now just at a slightly higher level than him

Looking down, you can tell that he’s calculating your next move based on the way his eyes are trailing you

“Okay, Marc. Hands together,” you instruct, positioning your own hands together to demonstrate

He grumbles, begrudgingly clasping his hands together

“You know I have things to do, right?”

“Right hand up,” you continue, choosing to ignore his previous comment

He rolls his eyes and lifts his hand up

You quickly slide your hand into the space between his fingers, grasping his fist tightly as you pound it above him against the door

“Hey! Wha–!”

Marc thrashes against your grip but to no avail. You’ve got his hands completely incapacitated

“Not so strong now, huh, Spector?” You smugly tease

It’s rare to see him in such a powerless position…you kind of like it

He growls, continuing to pull against your hand

“Let me go,” he snarls, anger pooling in his eyes

“Make me.” You motion towards his hands with your head. “What are you going to do without your precious hands, Spector?”

He looks down and smirks

“This.”

He kicks your feet from under you, causing you to gasp and fall (not so gracefully) onto his lap, hugging him tightly with your free arm

“I’ll use my feet, sweetheart.”

You can feel his deep breaths against your neck. (It's comforting) 

Feeling your heart suddenly quicken in your chest due to your close proximity (and the endearing nickname he just so casually muttered out), you quickly scramble off of him, untangling your hands in the process

“W-Well played, Spector,” you stammer out, flustered from the incident just seconds prior. “You win, okay?”

He lowly chuckles, sensing your embarrassment

“Let me try now, sweetheart.”

JAKE LOCKLEY:

(Author's Note: GOOGLE TRANSLATE IS HAVING A FUCKIN FIELD DAY W THIS ONE LMAO)

You were the last passenger of the day for Jake Lockley 

But if he has to be honest, he’d rather spend another hour with you than have to close up and head back to his place

Normally, customers would try to keep to themselves, maybe engage in a bit of conversation before ultimately quieting down to a mildly comfortable silence 

But you? Yeah, no. You talked about everything

But it wasn’t like you weren’t passively engaging him in the conversation

You can feel Jake indulging your thoughts and stories with his hearty chuckles and tight-lipped grins from the rearview mirror

So, when he finally parked by your street, you were a bit disheartened that you may never see him again

“Jakey?”

“¿Sí?” (Yes?)

“Do you know what a kabedon is?”

He loses himself in thought for a second before shaking his head

“¿No, qué es eso?” (No, what is it?)

You cheekily stare into the rearview mirror to catch his eyes

“Do you wanna know what it is?”

Sensing your teasing behaviour, he cocks his eyebrows in question but slowly nods his head

“Can you come out of the car?” you ask as you begin to pull the door handle to leave

He tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth in apprehension

“I promise I won’t mug you,” you jokingly quip, climbing out of his car

Hey, what did he have to lose?

Sighing but getting out of his car anyway, Jake breathes in the cold night air as he closes his car door

It's a beautiful night

He fixes his cap as he turns to face you

“¿Que sigue?” (what’s next?)

You grin, glad that he was going to indulge in another one of your stupid shenanigans

“Okay! So, put your hands together, like this,” you direct him, cheeky grin still plastered across your face as you grip your hands together tightly

“Uh huh,” he mumbles as he mimics your actions

“Then put your right hand up.”

“Mm.” He looks intently at your fingers

“And thennnn…” You purposely reach your hand out to clasp his fist, holding it in place

You then quickly and swiftly raise his hands onto the car’s roof, hearing a soft thud and groan as his body comes in contact with the door

“That happens,” You say, hovering over him

You scan his face for any signs of hurt or discomfort (and also because, let’s face it, he’s a pretty attractive guy)

He cracks a smile, letting you see the canines of his teeth (GOD that’s hot)

“Eso era bueno” (that was good)

“Yeah? I saw it on the internet,” you chuckle in relief as you start releasing his hands from your grasp. “I’ve always wanted to try it on someone.”

Jake intensely scans your chuckling figure through his half-lidded eyes, a smirk now gracing his face

Just before you can react to what’s happening, he grabs you by the waist and pushes toward the car door, eliciting an unexpected gasp from you

“Déjame devolver el favor, hermosa/hermoso” (allow me to return the favour, beautiful)

...

(im going to have to assume that they traded numbers after that ‘cuz no way in hell did they just leave that tension unresolved)

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - MOON MAGIC AND MYSTERIES OF THE NIGHT WE MET.

“Who in their right mind would name themselves ‘Jake Lockley’?” Marc sneered, prompting Jake’s astral form to abruptly rise, about to throw fists at the Chicago man a few meters away from him.

“If this hijo de puta doesn’t shut up–”

“Will you two shut it?!” Steven finally shouted, acting as the middle ground between his mental brothers before turning his attention to you who is now sporting a bewildered look. “Mira? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay, Steven, don’t worry. Just trying to wrap my head around all of this”, you finally spoke, nodding gratefully to Steven as you grasped Jake’s hand in his astral form to physically express your gratitude. “First thing’s first - it’s nice to finally meet you, Jake Lockley”

“The honor is mine, princesa”, Jake chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on your hand as Steven prevented the currently frustrated Marc to launch himself at his suave, Spanish-speaking New Yorker alter. “Hola a ti también, Steven, Marc.”

Hello to you too, Steven, Marc.

“Hello, Jake”, Steven greeted politely, waving an awkward hello. Marc, on the other hand, merely grimaces before flipping the bird, prompting Jake to chuckle at his host’s childishness.

“Looks like this is going to be more chaotic than I thought”, you shook your head as you couldn’t help but smile at the amusing interactions happening before you. This is proving to be a very strange day for you, no Sorcerer Supreme pun intended.

The room seemed to hum with energy as you circled around, absorbing the revelations that had just been thrust upon you. The three men in their respective corporeal forms simply observe as you work your moon magic, placing a protective spell to prevent any other spiritual forces from taking possession of their unconscious body.

“You’re some kind of witch, then?” Steven wondered aloud while witnessing your magical prowess before his eyes, while Marc and Jake were looking inquisitively at you as you took a seat at the foot of the bed. “Like Wanda Maximoff from the Avengers? Or was it Doctor Strange?”

“The politically correct term is a priestess, or babaylan in my mother tongue”, you started to explain. “I’m not a witch, but I did train to control my moon magic from Kamar Taj. It’s where Doctor Stephen Strange was taught with the mystic arts by the Ancient One. His mentor and I have been good friends for centuries”

“Centuries, bloody hell”, Steven exclaimed, not yet realizing the weight of your words. “And how old are you exactly?”

Jake snorted at Steven’s choice of words. “Pendejo, it’s rude to ask a woman her age–”

“He’s asking the right questions, so it’s fine”, you waved away, throwing a small smirk at Jake that he couldn’t help but return. “If you really wish to know the specifics, I was born in the early 900’s, so you do the math”

“You certainly haven’t aged a day”, Marc spoke mainly to himself. Upon hearing his thoughts aloud, you smiled serenely at his silent compliment. 

“I’m amazed you can still flirt with me at this stage”, you chuckled before shifting your gaze between Marc and Steven, straightening your posture before jumpstarting to your most pressing query. “So, my turn to ask you the questions. I’m guessing you two are not really twins, are you? Triplets, maybe?”

“I like your sense of humor, hermosa–”

“Zip it, Jake, this is serious”, Marc interrupted, clearly exasperated at his third alter’s quip as the latter made a face, rolling his eyes in derision. His astral form then reached out, a spectral hand brushing against your shoulder. "Steven and I - and apparently Jake too - we’re all facets of the same person sharing the same body”

“We suffer from a mental health condition known as Dissociative Identity Disorder” Steven spoke next, prompting you to nod slowly as the astonishment slowly painted your facade. “Have you ever heard of it?”

“Only read about it in clinical studies and theory”, you spoke softly as you absorbed the factual truth they’ve laid out to you. A myriad of emotions coursed through you as you absorbed their words: surprise, empathy, understanding. The truth was like a jigsaw piece that finally fit into place, and though the revelation was jarring, it also felt right. You couldn't fault them for keeping it hidden, for their fears and concerns were as genuine as the bond you had formed with them.

It was a lot to take in, and your mind whirled with questions. "Were you ever planning to tell me?"

"We plan to tell you, love, but we just don’t know how”, Steven stepped forward, his presence less domineering than Marc's but equally sincere. “We were afraid of how you'd react, of what you'd think of us."

“I know it’s not an easy matter to tell anyone”, you whispered, nodding slowly as you understood their reluctance. “I’m sure you haven’t meant for me to find out this way, but I’m glad to hear that you weren’t intending to keep this a secret from me”

“Of course not, baby”, Marc shook his head, his voice measured and somber as his translucent hand took yours as a symbol of reassurance. “We should’ve told you ages ago. I’m sorry you had to find out this way”

“We all are”, Steven chimed in, while Jake nodded thoughtfully in silent agreement.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize”, you interrupted, much to the trio’s collective surprise. They knew how complicated their situation is, but your verbal acceptance was everything to them. “I can understand, I mean, you’re not the only ones guilty of keeping secrets, am I right?”

“I’m sure you had your reasons too”, Marc, of course, was the first to understand your hesitance to let them know of your other life. “But I want you to know that I’m here for you, Mira - we all are. You can confide in us, whenever you’re ready to tell”

“Thank you, Marc”, you smiled appreciatively. Steven, on the other hand, offered you a giddy smile at the realization that you were no ordinary woman.

“Your secret’s safe with us”, Steven chuckled. “I mean, we really don’t have anybody else to share it with. But it’s just bloody cool to know you’re a magical person. And coming from an ancient time too, I… wait, hang on a moment–”

“What is it, Steven?” you asked, indulging the curiosity of the British man hovering before you.

“When we talked back then about your history”, Steven started, recounting your earlier conversation on the first day you met. “You’ve actually lived during the times when your country’s colonizers discovered and invaded your homeland?”

Your knowing smile and multiple slow nods prompted Steven’s eyes to almost pop out of their sockets, his mouth agape as he slowly connected the dots with your creative storytelling that night. 

“Bloody hell-”

“I’m sorry to cut the storytelling time short, querida”, Jake’s voice was heard next, his tone apologetic but his expression meaning business. “But I have to tell you about what really happened last night. I’m assuming you would want to know that, sí?

"Yes, that’s right," you began, addressing the man who had saved you during the new moon, "Tell me what happened. Do you know who shot me last night?"

Jake Lockley leaned back against the room's battered wall, his rough-hewn features etched with a certain heaviness. "They were assassins, sent to eliminate you for good. They work for Set’s avatar, and it seems that they know you well, given their weapon of choice."

His revelation sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed further. "Knew me well, huh? I’m assuming the bullet was made of wolfsbane?"

“Yeah, that’s right”, Jake nodded, his voice low and gritty. "They took advantage of last night’s new moon, which weakened your innate ability as an avatar to a moon goddess to heal and be impervious to harm."

“That’s why you fronted. To save her”, Marc said, trying to piece his own memories together. “But how on earth did you survive that attack?”

“I’m curious to know that as well”, Steven added, his mind working to solve the imminent puzzle of Jake’s heroic act that night. “As far as I know, wolfsbane is also toxic to humans. We shouldn’t be able to survive that”

“About that”, Jake started, now avoiding everyone’s gaze as he kept his eyes directed on the wooden floor of their flat. “Mira’s healed wounds should answer that question”

“What do you mean by my healed wounds?” you echoed, pulling the sleeve of your white t-shirt once more to reveal the spot where you’ve been shot. Your heart quickened as you slowly pieced together the puzzle, arriving at the most feasible conclusion you could only think of. "It can’t be. You mean to tell me that you serve a moon god too?"

A sharp intake of breath echoed from Marc and Steven. They exchanged panicked glances, clearly rattled by your revelation.

“Es cierto, cariño”, Jake sighed, finally admitting his long kept secret. "I'm still serving Khonshu as his avatar, as the Moon Knight"

That’s right, honey.

Marc Spector and Steven Grant exchange incredulous glances, their collective disapproval resounding in the room. The room was immediately filled with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife as you watched the tumultuous battle unfold before you. Jake Lockley had just dropped a bomb of revelation that had left his two alters reeling, and a cacophony of outrage erupted from them both. Their voices overlapped, and their collective disapproval reverberated through the room like an ominous drumbeat.

"I can't believe you'd keep this from us, Jake!” Marc was the first to speak as he leaned forward, his hands clenched into fists. The anger in his voice is palpable, and Steven's expression mirrors his outrage. 

"So, you're telling us that you saved our life as Moon Knight that night in Cairo", Steven's voice was laced with disbelief, his eyes narrowing at Jake. “And you're still serving that lunatic god, Khonshu?!”

“I am”, Jake Lockley nods, his eyes unwavering. "It's the only way to truly protect all of us."

“This is fucking insane!” Marc gritted, barely containing his anger any longer as his face contorted with frustration. “Khonshu had us trapped in his service for years, and we barely got ourselves free. How can you do this?!”

“Jake, why?” Steven, ever the voice of reason, sought understanding amidst the chaos. “Why continue to serve as Moon Knight?"

"I serve because I have to, not because I want to”, Jake shifted uncomfortably, but his tone remained firm. “It's the only way I can do my job: to protect you both."

“We do not need protecting –”

“Maldito idiota, do you even know how many enemies you have, pendejo?” Jake rolled his eyes at Marc’s side comment, prompting the other to shake his head in pure disbelief. “Besides, I wasn’t just protecting you two”

“What do you mean?” Steven inquired, not understanding what other possible reason would Jake have to still take the mantle of Moon Knight. Jake's gaze then flickers to you, as if he's seeking your support. You meet his eyes, trying to understand the turmoil in his soul.

"It’s the only way I can protect you, Mira", Jake replied, his voice filled with a mix of regret and determination. His answer brought a brief silence to the room as you stood in the midst of it all, your mind whirling like a tempest as you tried to make sense of his current revelations.

Suddenly, Jake Lockley's eyes softened, and he revealed something that shocked you to your core. "I've known you for a long time. Even before all of this."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You stand in the center of the room, your arms wrapped tightly around your own body as you struggle to absorb this revelation. 

"What do you mean, you've known me?” you took a deep breath, stepping closer to Jake. “How is that possible?"

“I remember the night we first met”, Jake's resolute gaze met yours as he nodded solemnly. "I wasn't the one who was fronting that time, but I remember seeing you. It was the night when Khonshu enlisted your help in shifting the night skies to find the right constellation leading to Ammit’s tomb.” 

The room grew quiet as your mind processed Jake's words. You struggled to remember that night, but everything was shrouded in fog. It felt like a distant dream, something you couldn't quite grasp.

“I don’t understand”, your mind raced, trying to grasp the implications of this revelation. “If you remember me, why Marc and Steven couldn’t? Why couldn’t they remember any of it? Why can't I remember you?”

“I was supposed to forget too, but Khonshu retained my memories of that night since I still serve as his avatar”, Jake sighed, his eyes a mix of sorrow and frustration. "As for Marc and Steven, those memories became recurring dreams that do not make sense”

"Wait a minute," Marc interjected, his eyes narrowing. "Jake’s right, we've had countless dreams about that night."

“That’s right, yeah”, Steven nodded in agreement. "Just like what he says - moving stars and shifting constellations. But it was always blurry, nonsensical."

Jake Lockley's gaze softens, and he begins to recount the dreams that Marc and Steven have been experiencing, helping his headmates remember what they could. These were the dreams that you've never been privy to, until now. 

In the midst of their quiet recollection and Jake's revelations, you continued your restless pacing around the room, your mind racing like a wildfire amidst the buzzing tension in the room. Something about all of this didn't sit right with you, and you require a direct line to the truth.

You needed answers, and you needed them now.

"I wish to speak to Khonshu," you declared, your voice unwavering. "Summon your god. I need to hear the truth from him, to explain all of this to me."

END OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

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[split-spectrum]

Water and Rock

Chapter 1

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: (None in the first chapter, but more to come) explicit content, drug use, dubcon, character deaths, slow burn

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

--

A second explosion rocks the port side of the ship, and you can barely hear your own muffled voice over the ringing in your ears.

"They've disabled our hyperdrive."

General Kenobi's face is grim. "Not good."

Your legs are struggling to keep you upright as you stumble against the bucking of the dying ship.

"Any suggestions, Commander?" he asks, a note of detachment in his voice that you wish you could mirror while plummeting to certain death.

☆☆☆

"Now would be the time to share any skills you've acquired on your solo missions."

You bite back a sarcastic comment about espionage missions rarely ending in dogfights. "Sir, if you're able to clear the atmosphere, we might still lose them in the asteroid field. If you can keep us from getting shot down for the next few minutes, I think I can manage the changes needed in the power converters to get the hyperdrive back online."

He considers this, then nods. "Fine. Do it. Divert as much power as you can without shorting the main systems."

He takes his place back at the helm and you slide a few feet to the back of the ship, dropping to the floor and immediately getting to work on the wiring. Another glancing blow hits the ship, and the tool you've grabbed skitters across the floor.

"I would love to recommend that you stay low until you reach the city limits, in case they have any qualms about shooting their own people and decide to use less firepower... but you're in command of this mission and I don't give the orders," you say, as if talking to yourself.

You snatch the tool back up and send a quick look to the captain's chair where Obi Wan is giving you a mildly unimpressed look. But he adjusts his controls, lowering the trajectory.

Too late. Another blast, and the ship is now shaking violently.

"All main engines are down on the port side." You flip through diagnostic screens, reading them aloud as Obi Wan struggles to keep the controls steady. "Remaining engines operating at only sixty percent. No, fourty... we're not going to make it."

All hope drains from your face while Obi Wan pulls up a map on the main console, adjusting coordinates. "Even if we manage to survive, our location has been compromised and our cover blown. I see only one option at the moment."

He zooms in, highlighting a nearby moon, Keoth. "We can try for a landing, and hope they believe we've died in the crash."

You take yet another hit, and this time you're knocked to the floor. You give a desperate smile. "They certainly aren't giving us many other options."

You stand back up and manage to strap yourself into the copilot's seat just in time for the power to begin failing. The ship begins its death spiral toward the moon below, its surface filling the viewport much too quickly for your stomach to handle. You give yourself over to the force, your master's piloting, and whatever luck has brought you this far.

Wordlessly, you plummet to the ground, reminding yourself not to give in to fear as the belly of the ship scrapes first against the trees, then against the rocky terrain. When the skidding finally stops and you haven't burst into a fireball, you silently thank the force as both of you remain in your seats for a moment, catching your breath.

"Let's hope the Black Sun didn't see where we went down," you say, finally unstrapping your belt once your legs are steady enough to stand up.

Obi wan stands as well. "I suppose we'll know soon enough."

His comment is enough to silence both of you again, and you listen in anticipation of more blasting. When nothing immediately happens, Obi Wan makes his way to the back of the ship and opens the cargo bay door. It creaks, straining against broken hinges, and slowly reveals the dense jungle outside. You step out, inspecting the damage to the ship. It's catastrophic.

"Black Sun or not, we aren't going anywhere anytime soon. It appears we'll need to send a status report to Coruscant and wait for rescue," he says, heading back into the ship to access the comm panel.

You step forward to follow him and wince, touching your head. Your hand comes away with blood, which must have been trickling down your forehead. He stops on the cargo ramp, placing a hand to the back of your head, steadying you for inspection.

"Hold still."

He turns your head this way and that, and steps back, walking into the ship to get a medpac. He takes one out of storage and makes his way back to you. "I am no medic, but that needs attention."

You wave a hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I must have hit it when I was working on the power converters. I'm more concerned about the ship's condition than a bump on the head."

He ignores your protest and starts to unpack a gauze pad, leaning toward you. Instead of letting him finish, you take the pad from his hand and press it in place, holding it there. You give him an appreciative look, which is enough to end the conversation. He turns his attention back to the comm panel. After a moment, he sighs.

"The normal communications systems are too damaged and the long-range communicator can't get a signal. We're cut off."

You close your eyes, trying to accept this new turn of events and find a way to move forward. You open them again and stare out of the cargo bay for a long time, thinking. Finally, you speak.

"If we can boost the signal of the long range communicator, we might be able to get a message back to one of my contacts on Oba Diah," you point, and his gaze follows your hand to the top of a mountain. "We just need to find higher ground."

"It's a possibility." Obi Wan considers it further, then gives a small shake of his head. "Probably our only possibility at present. We'll need supplies."

The both of you get started packing, eating and drinking as much as possible before leaving the rest of your supplies behind on the ship. With the pressing heat of the jungle, you consider leaving your robes behind, but ultimately pack them for extra bedding.

You shed the rest of your layers and leave on your tunic, arms bare. It doesn't do much to alleviate the pressing heat, but at least the fabric is light. Meanwhile, Obi Wan somehow decides to leave his outfit unchanged, removing only the most outer layer. It seems unbearable, but then, he's always been one of those jedi who choose to wear the most uncomfortable clothing. He told you once it was a constant exercise in learning to ignore the distraction of discomfort. You simply thought of it as unnecessary suffering.

"If I remember correctly, this moon has a 9-hour rotation. Looks like we have about 3 hours of daylight left," you say, pulling your bag over your shoulders.

Obi Wan follows you as you enter the jungle, stepping over vines. "We should make the most of it, then. Be wary. We don't know what kind of wildlife we may find."

"Actually, I've read the wildlife on Keoth is non-aggressive. So long as we don't provoke anything, I imagine we'll be fine."

"You keep your studies sharp, as always."

There's an unfinished lilt to his voice at the end of his sentence, where years ago, the words 'my padawan' may have fit.

When the jedi council had been deciding where to place you as a youngling, you hadn't made the choice easy for them. You didn't have any decipherable talents. At least, not at first. You weren't skilled with a blade, nor with hand-to-hand combat, and you weren't a particularly quick study at meditation. You weren't *bad* at any of those things, just not as adept as your peers. Nothing about you stood out, so finding a master with whom to place you became an ongoing task.

At first, you were sent to spend time at the healing houses. Often if a youngling wasn't predisposed to combat, their healing abilities soon revealed themselves. After months of training, not even the faintest sign of a healing ability made itself known. After that followed new master after new master. You learned from all of them, picked up skills from each of them, but none had been able to bring out your true strength. Your only consistent abilities seemed to lie in making rash decisions and engaging in reckless behavior. And as you neared the age for knighthood, it was becoming more of a liability to the order with each passing day

Thankfully, the council decided to counteract your behavior with a jedi who was the embodiment of forethought and decorum: Master Kenobi. You thought of your new assignment as a punishment at first, being placed with one of the strictest masters in the order, but with time and patience, he had shown you how to connect with the force like no one ever had.

It was through his guidance that you had discovered your unique talent for mind tricks. Most jedi could control one person with a weak will. You, on the other hand... you could control whole rooms of people with nothing but a suggestion. You could influence the minds of those with stronger wills and higher intelligence. You could disappear into a crowd by hopping from one consciousness to another almost effortlessly. It was a very rare gift, and it made you the perfect Republic spy.

It also meant that your tutelage under Master Kenobi was short-lived. Once your exceptional talent was revealed and honed, you were soon urged by the council to take the trials. A part of you always wondered if the need for your specific skillset in the war effort had driven you to take the trials before you were ready. Nevertheless, you passed. You struggled terribly, but you passed. And you were soon inundated with intelligence missions. Many jedi worked in partnership with one another, but on your assignments, a partner was often a liability. Instead, over the years, you formed a network of contacts in some of the seediest places throughout the galaxy. It was crucial work leading to vital information, but it was also isolating.

So, when you were given an assignment on Oba Diah with your former master, it was welcome news. Your mission had been to spread a rumor within the Pyke Syndicate that someone was selling a rare jedi holocron on the black market, in order to draw the attention of Lord Tyranus. When Tyranus arrived on Oba Diah to investigate, an attack would be launched in an effort to capture him. But the jedi council hadn't been aware of how deeply in league with the Black Sun Clan the Pyke had become, and weren't aware of their full numbers, or their access to information. Your deception had been revealed, and as a result, you're now staring up at the peak of a mountain that's miles away, while trudging through hot, sticky jungle air.

You've been walking for hours at this point, hardly able to see in the dimming light, and you ignite your lightsaber for the dual purpose of lighting your way and cutting a few branches out of your path. "It's nearly dark. Maybe we should make camp soon."

Obi Wan nods, although he keeps walking, and you keep following. "You're right. We'll make better time when we can see where we're going."

He finally stops in a small clearing, pulling out his water ration and taking a drink. You pause as well, using your lightsaber to slowly walk around the area and inspect. The trees aren't so dense in this area. Once you clear the brush off ground, it should make a reasonable-

You cut your inspection short, hearing a loud cracking sound in the darkness. You lock eyes with Obi Wan.

"Yes, I sense it as well," he says, lowering his voice. He ignites his lightsaber and you take your automatic positions, backs to one another, as you peer into the darkness of the jungle. Something is out there. You can feel it watching you.

A ravenous snarl suddenly erupts nearby, as a creature twice your size lunges out of the vegetation at Obi Wan. He deftly moves to the side, dodging its enormous claws. The beast's eyes glitter in the green reflection of your saber. Its teeth are so large it can't even seem to entirely close its mouth, drool dripping onto the ground below.

As the beast circles you, searching for a weak point to attack, you look over the matted hair covering its body, its raked-back ears and its short, stunted nose. You don’t recall this species in your study of this planet's moon. It roars and launches itself toward you again, and you slash upward, singeing one of the tufts on its ears. The smell of burnt hair and flesh hangs in the humid air, and the creature howls in pain, scrambling back toward both of you.

Obi Wan force pushes the beast backward, but it uses its legs like a springboard, ricocheting off a tree to snap its jaws at his neck. Again, he dodges, but not quickly enough to avoid its claws, which manage to catch his shoulder. Obi wan returns the stab by driving his lightsaber through the creature's arm, which finally causes it to relent, letting out a screech of pain.

It shuffles backward, then quickly disappears back into the jungle, leaving as suddenly as it had arrived. The two of you remain on alert, panting and glancing around the trees surrounding the clearing, now completely pitch black. After a few moments, it seems the creature has no plan to return, and Obi wan sighs.

"Non-aggressive, I believe, were your exact words?"

You grimace. "Perhaps the archive could use an update on Keoth."

He gives you a slight raise of his eyebrows, turning to say something else, but grits his teeth when he moves his arm. You shine your light toward his shoulder, seeing the blood seeping through his clothing.

"We should clean that," you tell him. Though your voice holds concern, it isn't the first time you've seen him injured. And because you've seen him injured plenty of times before, you're aware he'll ignore his injuries until you start to waste time over it. So you wait, patiently, unmoving.

He pulls his pack down from his shoulders and drops it to the ground. "We only have two medpacs. I'm not certain it's necessary."

He waits for your response, but you don't give him one, so at last, he searches his bag until he finds a medpac. When you see that he appears willing to listen to you in this instance and he begins to open a medpack, you drop your own pack to the ground and busy yourself with starting a fire.

You clear a small area of the ground and cut down some branches. Then you use the heat of your blade to burn some kindling you make by cutting off the bottom fringe of your tunic. Within a few minutes, the fire is crackling and you turn your attention back to Obi Wan, who has prepared the bacta spray and is pulling off his clothing.

He's... you swallow. Your eyes are drawn to his skin as it's revealed, and all at once it occurs to you that you've never seen your master without a shirt on. Even during late nights, you've seen him in his bedclothes, but never... never like this.

He's facing away from you, already having removed his belt and tunic, and he's quickly and unceremoniously pulling his dark brown undershirt over his head, dropping it to the ground. Despite trying to focus on the claw marks, you can't help but stare at his golden skin, the muscles of his back tapering down to his narrow waist. Then, all at once, your eyes fixate on the tattoo that graces his shoulder.

You can feel the synapses in your brain as they short circuit. You don't recognize the symbol, just a black marking of some kind which you've never seen before.

It's at this moment he seems to feel your gaze and turns around, holding the bacta spray. You tear your eyes up from his bare chest to look him in the eyes. He raises his arm, turning to the side. "Is it quite deep? I can't tell."

You blink, trying to steel yourself and focus on the task at hand. The injury doesn't seem serious, just a surface level puncture. You shake your head. "It's not that bad. You've had worse."

You try to force a smile but you imagine it comes off as nervous. Your eyes keep darting up to the tattoo as he displays himself for you.

"You look concerned, Commander. I assure you, I'm fine." He lowers his arm, giving you a strange look.

You stifle a cough, caught staring. "No, I know. I was just surprised."

"Surprised?"

"Yes, your... tattoo. I, uh, didn't know you had one."

A look of understanding passes over his face. "Oh, that. Yes."

He looks a little shy, but still as unreadable as always. "I had it done when I was much younger; a padawan. At the beginning of my time with Master Qui Gon."

You finally manage to regain control of your expression. "I see. I would never have suspected."

He dabs at his wound with a medical pad, then starts to spray it down. "You would probably be disappointed to learn that many jedi choose to mark themselves as a sign of their culture or for other reasons. In that way, I'm not as unique as I would sometimes like to believe."

You shake your head. "I'm aware. I just... wouldn't have expected it from you."

He smiles a little, then winces when he places a gauze pad onto his skin. "It was... a different time in my life."

The fire pops loudly beside you, the noise pulling you out of your trance. You sweep some more underbrush off the ground, throwing it into the nearby bushes while keeping your gaze firmly on your work. When the ground is clear enough, you lay out your bed roll and try to ignore him while he pulls his undershirt back over his body.

When your breathing finally returns to normal, you're able to turn your thoughts to something safe, like food. You pull a supply bar out of your bag, break it in half, and hand the other half to Obi Wan.

"Thank you," he says. Then he stares at you for a moment. His eyes narrow and he takes a step to close the distance between you, reaching his free hand out to nearly touch the side of your face.

Your breathing becomes shallow again. "General...?"

"You might do well with some of this spray, yourself. Your head isn't looking much better after all this walking."

You realize he's staring at your injury and your shoulders relax a little. "Oh. Yeah, thanks."

You take the spray as he offers it, then change the dressing as well. When you've finished, you climb, exhausted, for many reasons, into your makeshift bed and close your eyes.

You feel Obi Wan settling into his bed roll beside you. "I will take first watch. Rest well. It seems this journey may be more difficult than we had anticipated."

You stare up at the leaves above your head. Yes, you think. Yes, it may.

Masterlist // Next Chapter >>

--

[winniethewife]

What I did to you (Moon knight system x reader)

Past the blood and bruise (Marc x reader) Happiness

Jake Steven

Words: 741

It had only been a month. Everyone said that she would learn to live without them, but she was just surviving. Inhale and exhale. One foot in front of the other. Go to work, go home. Day in, day out. The days blur into nothing, the music stopped. She could hardly figure out what she was doing anymore. She would wonder if they had figured out how to live without her. She wondered if Layla had gotten Jake to come out, Was he taking her on late night drives, going much too fast down dark streets. Does she make sure that Steven’s library books get turned in on time? Does she let him lay on her on the couch while they read and listen to music? But when she thinks of Marc it all goes fuzzy, he was married this whole time. The whole time they had been together. She can’t help but think of the nights they found the weirdest B-rated movies and laughed the whole night, making up jokes no one else would understand. And the day she taught him to make French press coffee after he wanted to know how her coffee is better than when he makes it. Does he still want it that way? Did he get a French press, and is he making her coffee the way she used to for him? She shakes her head she can’t think about it right now.

“I can't make it go away by making you a villain.” She mumbles a she starts walking down the street.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and she was tired, she had been running errands all day and she hadn’t been getting the best sleep as of late. She was looking down as she walked by and she didn’t realize until she ran head first into some one.

“Oh, gods so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She looks up and her blood runs cold. Beautiful brown eyes, long dark curls, olive skin, She recognized Layla from the photo that Jake had showed her.

“Its fine, I’ve been there” Layla laughed, oblivious to who she was.

“Layla, Babe, I couldn’t find the uh….” Marc approaches the two of them and she could see the color drain from his face as he sees her.

“Hope you both have a nice day, good weather for it.” She says politely and she walks around them trying to get away. She should have known better because she only made it a block before Marc was pulling her around the corner into an alleyway.

“What was that? We’ve known each other how long and now I get fake niceties?” He asks with a snarl

“I’m sorry what was I supposed to do? Introduce myself? ‘Hi Layla lovely to meet you I’m your husbands former mistress. Sorry about all that.’ You think that would go over well?” She asked sternly

“No, I-” He has a pained expression on his face as he looks at her. He clenches his fists. “I’m sorry, I just knew if I didn’t try talking to you… Steven and Jake, they aren’t doing great. Hell I’m not doing great, but I made a choice and I have to at least try.”

“No one teaches you what to do in this kind of a situation.” She said softly. She wants to hug him, hold him close. But that wasn’t really an option.

“Have…are you seeing anyone new?” He asks tentatively

“No, I went on a couple dates a while back but…After giving you the best I had…I don’t know what to give anymore. I don’t know how to love other people.” As she said it she knew her words hurt him, the way he looked at her, he wanted to say something he can’t.

“I…I just wanted to say. The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you. You don’t have to forgive me, I know you’re having a hard enough time forgiving the other two and they deserve your forgiveness, more than I ever will.” He looks like he’s about to break down in tears. She grabs his hand and pulls him into an embrace, her own tears coming to her eyes. For a moment they just hold each other, just like they used to, hands held tight, pressed against their chests, her other arm around his shoulder, his around her waist, foreheads pressed together.

“You know I miss you”

~

Series Masterlist

Tag: @femmeanonymelives

[aliorsboxostuff]

MALE!READER WRITING REQUESTS (TEMP) CLOSED !

Come check out my works bellow!

I've seen how devastatingly little male!reader fics are in my big fandoms, and as a gay man i feel like i should provide us with said fics! Which is why I'm opening my ask box for any and all male!readers and gn!readers requests! (Including anon requests!)

RULES:

I WON'T ACCEPT FEMALE!READER FICS REQUESTS. I’m a trans-masc genderfluid, so male!Readers or gn!Readers are the ones that I usually write and am comfortable with. It’s hard looking for male!reader fics, especially in female-dominated fandoms, that's why I'm opening requests for any and all sad and touch-starved dudes out there! If these don't fit your preferences then you are free to leave, and if you're a female user/reader entering my blog, I hope you remain respectful about the fics I write or get requests for, thank you.

NOTE: I NEVER USE ANY FORM OF Y/N IN MY FICS. I find them kind of weird for me to write so my fics are mostly 1st Person POV. I write most of my fics based off on Fixations that may last a couple weeks, months, years. If you've requested something but havent seen the fic, that might be because i've lost interest!

What i will write:

male!reader

gender-neutral reader

Ftm! Reader

Smut 

Platonic or Romantic relationships

angst

fluff

comfort

headcanons

nsfw alphabets

drabbles

Series

Age gap (CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 19)

What I Won't write:

female!reader

underage characters (anyone under 17)

necrophilia

real people

pedophilia

Omorashi

age play

rape/non-con

incest

offensive/harmful things

THE CHARACTER LIST! Or, characters I will definitely write about if requested!

PEDRO PASCAL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Ezra (prospect)

Joel Miller

Javi Gutierrez

Javier Peña

Frankie Morales

Whiskey (Kingsman)

Tim Rockford (yes from the Ad)

TOP GUN 86’ & TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

MARVEL & XMCU

Miguel O'hara (ATSV)

Hobie Brown (Platonic/fluff only)

Pavitr Prabhakar (Platonic/fluff only)

Kurt Wagner (xmcu)

Loki Laufeyson

Bucky Barnes

Moon Knight System

Deadpool

Daredevil

Eddie and Venom (They come as a pair)

BULLET TRAIN

Tangerine

Ladybug

Jujutsu Kaisen

Satoru Gojo

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Ryoumen Sukuna

Yuuji Itadori (Fluff)

Toge Inumaki (Fluff)

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Connor (RK800)

Nines (RK900)

COD MODERN WARFARE II

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

John 'Soap' Mactavish

König

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Chris Knight (Real Genius)

Hannibal (NBC)

The Corinthian (Netflix Sandman)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE4 Remake)

Luis Serra (RE4 Remake)

Understand that these are all works of fiction; I am perfectly fine with writing for topics including mafias, mobs, murder, organized crime, war, mental illness, abuse, etc.; but please do not romanticize them in any way. Reading it is fine; please don't romanticize them in your head.

If any of this provided information may seem confusing or have any questions, feel free to drop a DM and I will explain further! I will try to post fic requests as regularly and as fast as I can!

For refrence, these are fics i've written and uploaded to my AO3!

Steven Grant/Male Reader fluff

XMEN Family Pride Fic

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #1

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #2

Deadpool/Male Reader Fluff Confession

Deadpool/Ftm Reader Smut

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader Fluff

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader sunshine x grumpy

Tangerine/Male Reader Fluff/Angst Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader (Escort Fic) Mature

Tangerine/NB Reader Teen&Up

Tangerine/Gender-Fluid Reader (Coming out fic)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Husband Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Ellie Fluff

Joel Miller & Kid Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Tess Fluff a bit Angst

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Fluff slight Angst

Din Djarin/Boyfriend Reader Smut

And the Short Fics/Drabbles on Tumblr!

Pulse (Tangerine/M!reader)

Deep Dive (Namor/M!reader)

Hold Tight (Tangerine/gn Reader)

Ner Mesh'la (Din Djarin/Male Reader)

Trinkets (Kurt Wagner/Gender-fluid Reader)

"Anythin' you wanna be." (Hobie Brown & Ftm Reader)

Little Nap! (Meows Morales Drabble)

Anyone that starts an argument about me writing exclusively for men and gender neutrals alike will get a very passive-aggressive and sarcastic reply to your request. There is an abundance of female!readers fics and writers who provide them; I am just here for people that takes a whole day searching for good male!reader fics. IF you do start an unnecessary rant about my fics or my writing preferences at a given moment; I’ve been in fandom spaces for the last 7 years of my life and run on pure manic adrenaline, I will throw hands. 

Without further ado, REBLOG TO TELL ALL DUDES! I OPEN MY FLOOD GATES! WELCOME ALL MALE!READER REQUESTS!