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cherryredstars · 7 months

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OMG I SAW YOUR REQUEST IS OPEN AND OMG I WANTED TO ASK IF YOU CAN MAKE AN demon!MIGUEL x but Innocent/cute/ werid/quirkFmAngel! Reader (like the demon CAN be also called the spider demon that all work under Miguel eyes😝💅😩)

Reader is a angel that believes that there goodness in any creature that mean Miguel.yea but she doesnt believed in some angel like her ex- boyfriend,reader finally caught her boyfriend cheating while hanging out with the group while eating there ice cream or looking in the heaven village or city idk ??😣😭 ( miles, gwen, and pav and his girlfriend )which when Gwen and hobie and miles was shocked and gasp loudly at something that pulled reader attention and when reader saw it, reader came running away in tear at the sight of it.

and ran away far away from it ,While pav girlfriend with hobie beating his as while gwen is telling hobie that " ENOUGH HOBBIE " while pav is trying to stop his girlfriend from cheering on hobie from SCREAMING at reader ex- boyfriend for making reader spend ALL her time with such a USELESS F ING ANGEL WHO doesnt work FOR SH%T

meanwhile Miguel, is some were in heaven and hell which is what I called is the void or the pocket of both lands and that where Miguel is doing his business(while wearing his spider logo LIKE imagine him wearing an tight suit with some sort of amor ) killing angel and entity\antomty (I forgot the name💀) in his way with Layla of course but only telling him how many are there but that where reader came running away and fall into and also hitting a large rock and managed to hurt one of her wings,badly, which cause her to stare around for any help or tried to see if she know what is this place she flew into, And Miguel was done doing assignments (ahem- killing) amd then see her in such a state that make his heart beat again,

Meanwhile reader is crying not of fear, but she not in fear of the man in front of him.. She finding it sexist (ok I want to make reader weird,or quirky💀😭) ok it not her problem OR FAULT OK it was his aura, big BOTTY OF A ASS that reader probably think she has seen in her life form a boy ✊😝 and his horns,

reader realized she still have tear in her eyes and started wipes her face and getting up from the floor but then the pain of her wings finally came. (And Layla being Layla teleport to Miguel to see if he done with work and see reader on the floor with a broken wing with blood and Layla making an deal or some thing idk to convince him to let her live while saying in a language Spanish but that a ancient towards reader)

NFSW PART THAT J COMPLETED SUCK AT

Let imagine Miguel heat or is just hella intoxicated with a sex drug from layla putting there (putting or idk someone LIKE PETER B ) and left it on his favorite desk( that he like to slam on A LOT JUST FROM THE RETARD THAT HE HAS TO DEAL with work💀 ✊ men got his on TABLET FOR THAT lol) and it crash on the floor and broke and some gas that Miguel was intoxication from of it and went to his own place while reader was petting an demonic cat in his house

Here is a some plot idea for the NFSw part

(Also THIS IDEA WAS INSPIRED BY MANY WEEBTOON STORY AND I WANTED TO mush ALL THESE IDEA INTO ONE SO pls 😭 if I suck AT EXPLAINING THE PART and I wanted to say this but I feel like Miguel be the grump bear person character or big puffy cat person like he wouldnt like anyone touch his horn but when reader ask he let her touch his horn with a pout sound as he lean down 🗣😭✊ also you can make this a fluff/smut any kink will do honestly! THANK YOU bye ❤

Hope you have a great day and time ! (Sorry if this made be a long request but I dont see many people making a demon Miguel like this one and reader as well so yea and I really wanted to people be inspired by this one !!!😇😌🗣

Pairing: Demon!Miguel O’Hara x Angel!fem reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Virgin!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Cheated on Reader, Slight Corruption Kink, Slight Fingering, Oral Sex, Praise, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Blood

Summary: Even the devil has a soft spot.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

It had been a gloomy day.

You had never expected to find your sweet, attentive boyfriend sucking faces with someone else. It had ruffled your delicate feathers and for your wings to curve in with despair. Your friends had tried to pull you away from the scene, the dejection clear on your face as you stared longingly at the man you had given your golden heart to. Their reassuring words floated past you, mind preoccupied on why this could have happened to you. Was it something you did? Were you not enough? Were you missing something?

Later into that day, after numbly reassuring your friends you were alright, you had wandered aimlessly across the angelic city. You were so lost in thought that you had not realized you had taken too many turns out of the city, finding yourself in the Void. So unused to the dark, unfamiliar land, you had stumbled your way around, catching your wings on things you couldn’t see clearly until your body was sore and you had wilted to the ground in a hopeless mess. You were unsure of how long you had laid there, a withering mess of innocent pain before he had sniffed you out.

From his account of events, he had just been back from one of his sessions of…repentance as he calls it. Even though his suit and dulled armor was splattered with blood, he knew the lingering scent in the air was fresh, more innocent than the kind he had spilt. He had followed the sweet fragrance, finding your helpless form crowded to the ground. You had looked up at him with such shiny eyes, a puffed pout on your lips. Your appearance alone was angelic, his hand itching to reach out and taint your delicate skin. He swore a glowing aura shielded your body, setting you apart from the gloominess of the Void. If not the scent of your blood, the shininess of your glow would attract dark things like him to you.

You had shrunk back in response to the strong presence he held, not realizing tears had flowed down your face until he commanded you to wipe them away. When he had told you to follow him, you had weakly pushed yourself up, using the sound of shifting armor as your guide through the dark. He had taken you back to the modest cabin, cold and nearly as empty as the world outside. He had left you by yourself, your wings fluttering nervously as you tried to see more than blurred darkness. When he had lit a dim light, you had instantly flocked towards it while he kept his distance. You had crowded around the greenish-yellow flame like a moth, staring at it as if it was as angelic as you were.

His rough hand was firm around your shoulder blade, pushing you into a seat near the flame. He stood behind you, as if using you to shield him from the light as he bandaged the fracture in your wing quietly. You had sat still, watching the flame dance on the candle wick. The light illuminated your face in a ghastly light, creating intense shadows against the features of your face. When he had pulled away, you turned to look for him, only to be met with pure black. You reached your hand out tentatively, pulling it back when you had met the cold metal of his armor. HIs own hand reached out to you, centimeters away from your face so you could see it.

Your delicate fingers brushed over the calluses on his hand and in a gravelly voice he had asked you, how pretty, innocent you, found yourself an injured bird in such a dark place. With his adapted eyes, he had seen the darkening of your cheeks and the wounded look in your eyes. You had looked away, a half-hearted excuse of getting lost leaving your plush lips before asking him for his name.

He answers begrudgingly, a low grumble that you have to strain your ears to catch. You find it only fair to tell him yours in return, and Miguel lets the word circulate into his head until it's fully memorized. The name suits a gentle creature like you he thinks, a soft symphony of syllables that are yours to own. It sounds like church bells and birds chirping, something that's shunned in the Void. The natural greed that fuels his body wants to lock you up and keep you for himself.

Instead, he shoves the lantern into your hands, a silent demand to follow him as he walks towards the cabin’s entrance again. You two walk through the barren land, your small form following him as you stare at the more clearly defined shapes of the land. When you begin to slow or stray too far, he lets out a slow rumbling noise from his chest that draws you back to him. He doesn’t seem particularly annoyed when he does it, but he isn’t exactly happy about it either.

You follow him until he stops, your distracted mind almost causing you to crash into him. You peak out from behind him quizzically, holding your lantern up only to find it useless. Even though Migurl stopped a good distance away, the light of the holy city is visible. A delighted smile makes its way onto your face as you look up at him, a silence thanks for his kindness. He doesn't look visibly affected, but his unmoving heart stutters in a single kick.

You wordlessly walk out from behind him, taking a few steps forward before stopping and running back. His eyebrow raises as you stop right in front of him,a shy smile on your face as you take his hand and wrap it around the lantern’s handle with a soft thank you. You had given his hand a lingering squeeze before turning away from him and walked towards home. You had turned once after crossing out of the Void, eyes searching for a figure and a green glow, but both seemed to have disappeared into the darkness.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

Two weeks later, you were surprised to see that green glow in the distance. Based on the height of it, you knew it had to be Miguel. You took a hesitant step into the Void, then another and another until you were getting closer and closer to the light. You had stopped five feet away, close enough for the light to be an arm away, but far enough that you couldn’t see the face you’ve yet to see. It was silent for a long moment before that familiar rumble vibrated in the air. The softest of smiles came over your face as you walked closer, taking the lantern from him when he offered it to you. You lifted your arm up, letting the light travel up his form until you were looking into deep red eyes.

A stifled gasp had left you, but it held more fascination than fear. Your eyes had drunk in his features, eyes mostly trained between his glowing orbs and the twisted points that spiraled from his soft hair. He had studied you too, eyes flashing at the delicate bow of your lips and the twinkling shine in your eyes. When you lowered the light, you kept your eyes trained to the place of his own eyes as you whispered a hello. He grunted back in response and turned to make way back to the cabin. You never hesitated to follow him back.

It was in that very cabin that you spent most of your time together. Where the two of you bonded. You sat and talked, Miguel listening as he cleaned his armor or prepared you desserts made from sweet berries and cream that he bought from travelers in anticipation for your frequent visits. The first few visits acted as check ups, Miguel making sure your wing mended and had full capability. Those visits were quick and silent, but they made you anxious for the next one.

Sometimes, after being too cramped in his cabin, you would ask Miguel to show you around the Void. He always grumbled about it, muttering how the Void was, well, void of anything besides plain terrain and the occasional hut or trading stand. But he had found that there was little he could deny you, something in his body against the idea of rejecting something so bright and lively. He had discovered this trait during an earlier visit where you had asked him in the sweetest tone he had ever heard if you could touch his horns. The disapproval was on the tip of his forked tongue, but seeing the way you had blinked so hopefully up at him only resulted in the bowing of his head as your gentle hands traced the grooves of the foreign keratin.

On special days, the days where MIguel had no repentance to take care of, he would let you decorate his horns and hair with beads and accessories you had brought over and never took home. He would hold the lantern up for you so you could focus on your work, and he told you in a gruff voice about the more tamer quests he had been on. But those stories were rare and far between, Miguel finding someone as pure as yourself in no need to know about blood and death as he’s known them. But, they were fun to hear even with their heavy censorship and you absorbed every word like gospel. Honestly, you spend more time focusing on the sound of his voice rather than his words. You loved the deep calmness to his speech, wishing you had a way to record it so you could play it over and over in the hours you spent away from him.

On the really bad days, the days where Miguel had come to fetch you at the border of the Void and the holy city in more blood than usual, he would take you back to the cabin in silence and wash up before pulling you to his sofa and cradling your innocent form to his chest. The both of you would be bathed in darkness, the lantern a far away glow on the dining table as he tried to absorb your good. He would hold your head gently, breathing in your sweet scent as he played with the ends of your hair or flattened the feathers of your wings. It helped calm him down, feeling the slight pleased purr vibrate against his chest as you beamed under his attentive care. He would rumble his chest slowly in response, showing his own content. Those days you knew you had to distract his mind, letting his mind fill with nothing but the events of your day or any days you were apart. When you ran out of events, you started telling him your own thoughts. Recalling a question you have about the universe, a flower you saw on your way to the Void’s edge, how you think maybe the next time you visit you’ll bring Miguel a nice piece of decoration to hang up so his cabin doesn’t look so sad.

But no matter the type of day, no matter how many times you had visited him, he always walked you back to the edge of the Void at the same exact time. It was like clock work. It didn’t matter if you didn’t finish your story, it didn’t matter if you weren’t done removing the decorations from his hair, it didn’t matter if he hadn’t fully calmed down yet. When a small chime ran through his house, he would drop whatever he was doing, standing to give you your lantern before walking you out of his cabin. You had asked him about it a singular time, but he had ignored it. You waited, debated if you should ask again in case he didn’t hear you, but then that time happened and you dropped it. You had stayed curious about it, but you had come to terms with the fact that you’d possibly never know.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You don’t know what compelled you to come so late. It was far past the time you would usually come, proven by the fact no lantern glow greeted you at the edge of the Void. But something in you urged you to go, your feet basically dragging you through the darkness. Luckily, the frequency of your visits made you familiar with the path to Miguel’s cabin, hand stretched out until it hit the flat wood of a door. It only took you a few pats to find the doorknob, turning it and sliding it open.

Instantly, a dark musk filled your senses. It makes your head dizzy and you grip tighter onto the knob to steady yourself. When you think you're stable enough to walk, you take a step forward only to almost trip on an overturned chair. A spike of alarm rings in your head and you can’t help the urgency powering your voice as you call Miguel’s name. In the darkness, there is a faint noise of shuffling before you yelp out in surprise. Large hands grab you and flip you on the couch, your hands shoved above your heads as the sound of deep breathing echoes in your ear. Your body instantly melts into the fabric at the sound of Miguel’s voice asking you what you’re doing here.

You try to shift your hands, but Miguel tightens his hold on them. You huff out a pout but stop struggling as you ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t reply, burying his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling deep. His breath tickles around your neck and you can’t help the soft squirms your body makes.

“Smells s’good,” Miguel mumbles against your skin, his hips pinning yours down so you can’t try to escape. You try to stifle the gasp that builds in your throat at something hard pressing into you. When Miguel’s wet tongue glides up the length of your neck, a soft noise leaves you parted lips. Your hips buck up to push him off, but he only grounds and grounds his hips into you.

Another sound leaves you, slightly louder than before as you feel something rush into your panties. The feeling of the wetness is uncomfortable and you try to shift to relieve it. Miguel’s hands find your waist and grip hard, holding you still as you pull away from your neck. His eyes are glowing so brightly that you can see the red tint in the darkness. “It’s witching hour, y'know.

Can’t be here, ángel.”

Despite the gruffness of his appearance, the words are sweet and full of concern. If you could, you would have reached your hand up to cup his face. He looks and sounds pained. You don’t know why, but you want to help. “Are you okay, Miggy? You don’t sound so good, is there anything I can help you with?”

The honey dripping from your voice makes him grind his hips against you again. You just sound so sweet. His perfect little angel was so worried about him. Wanted to be helpful to him. So sweet and pure and innocent. So goddamn tempting. And, like he said before, he can never deny you. He can’t deny you. Who denies help from an angel anyways? Definitely not him. Definitely not when you can help.

His hand reaches down and cups under your pretty white tunic, a gasp leaving you when he cups your clothed sex and the heel of his palm presses the wetness against your skin. A deep moan leaves Miguel at the dampness, his hand rubbing it eagerly. “Yeah, you can.”

Before you can ask him what it is he needs help with, you feel too long fingers slip under your panties. Your body instantly tenses as Miguel teases them along your entrance, more slick rushing from you to coat his fingers. He tries to push them in, absolute surprise coursing through him when your walls don’t instantly give to take them at the same time. He tries to ease the tips of them, but still gets nothing. It frustrates him. You’re so wet, he can see you glistening before him. Fuck, you hips are even pressing back into his hand. So why can’t you take his fingers?

Then, it hits him. His sweet little angel is a virgin.

He grows impossibly harder at the thought. You really are pure. His tiny little angel, untouched and pure. All for his taking. His eyes trail up your body, looking into your confused face. Poor thing doesn’t even understand what’s happening. But, it’s okay. Miguel, he isn’t mean. He may be a demon but he isn’t mean. He’ll take care of you.

“Need you to spread your legs f’me, doll. Spread your legs and relax.”

You obey so beautifully. You don’t question or hesitate. You only do, only please. Your legs spread for him and he watches the way your tunic bunches around your waist. The sight of your drenched cunt is downright heavenly and he can’t help but lick his lips. His hands glide up your legs until he’s helping you keep your legs open. Gently, he bends down and places them over his shoulder until he’s face to face with your practically see-through panties. He licks a long strip up them, tongue swirling around your poked bud. Your lips instantly buck up in response and your hands find his horns for support.

He chuckles at you, studying you as he pushes your panties to the side again. He licks another strip up you, your slick collecting on his taste buds. You taste as sweet as you smell and it’s driving him wild. The grip on you tightens as he prods at your entrance. His tongue is wet and warm and causes you to feel things you didn’t even know were possible. Your hips lift in response, and you cry out when Miguel slips his tongue into you.

The buckling of your hips is instinctive as his tongue dives in and out of you, occasionally playing with your clit. Your eyes are threatening to roll back as your hands tighten around Miguel’s horns to aid your movements. “M-miguel…what are you..?”

Miguel’s own eyes roll back at your clueless question. You don’t even understand what’s going on, but here you are desperately trying to ride his face like a fucking succubus because you feel that good. A deep groan vibrates against you as he eats you out more desperately, drinking up everything you’re spilling out. In response, you keep letting out the prettiest of noises. If this is what it's like to go to church, Miguel just might consider being stricken down for the chance to hear your moans.

Your legs begin to shake, trying to fight Miguel’s strong hold. Your body quivers and twists, head thrown back as you try to stop whatever it is building inside of you. “Miguel…stop, wait!”

Your begs and pleads are absolute music to him, He can feel the clenching of your walls, and he tries to ease a finger into you to hold them apart. His fingers slip in easier than before, but it still has resistance. But the moment he’s knuckle deep and curls, you’re crying out as you finish. Miguel’s eyes snap up to you, watching drunkenly as you twitch. He slurps everything up, moaning into you as he sucks your lips. He pulls away with a pop, placing a gentle kiss onto your sensitive clit as you try to breathe. Your chest rises and falls, sweat making your tunics stick to your body and become transparent in some places. You’re nipples peek through the fabric, and Miguel sucks them until they’re clearly seen under the garment.

He finally reaches up to your face, kissing your cheek to call you back to him. Your eyes are hazy as you turn to look at him, a small film of satisfaction coating them. The sight makes Miguel smile, nuzzling his nose against your skin to breathe in the lingering scent of sex and sweat on you. You smell absolutely divine and he can’t help but palace a slow kiss to your lips. Your own lips are clumsy, not really knowing what you’re doing. You just follow Miguel’s example and whatever your brain is telling you is right. But Miguel seems to be enjoying it, pressing his lips harder against you and humming.

You’re the first to pull away, a gasp ripping from you as you feel his finger slide back into you. He wiggles it around, stretching your walls out in preparation for something bigger. You whine against his lips. Hips shifting when he pulls it out of you. But soon you feel the warmth of something larger poking at your opening. Your eyes meet Miguel’s glowing ones, a silent question in your eyes.

Miguel presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye as he begins to push in. His hand tilts your head to the side, his face looking down at you as your own twists in discomfort. “This is gonna hurt for a second, sweet angel.”

Before you can ask what he means, his hips snap forward. A scream begins to leave your throat, but it dies once Miguel surges towards your neck and bites down. The pinch of something painful hits you before it all dies down into a euphoric numbness. A soft moan leaves you as Miguel slowly thrusts in and out. He pulls away from your neck, giving it a quick lick and kiss before taking your arms to wrap them around his neck loosely. He kisses your cheek again, moaning at the coppery smell of blood that begins to feel the air as he stretches your hymen.

“That’s it. So fucking good for me, good girl.”

Even in your dazed state, your body glows under his praise. A slow hum leaves you, and you arch your back into him. Miguel’s hand slips to your lower back, pressing your skin into his body and he begins to speed up his thrusts. Each snap of his hips brings shockwaves of pleasure through you, and it isn’t long before you feel the familiar build up in your body again. Miguel groans as your walls tighten around his cock, teeth grinding together as he pushes through your tight walls. With another sharp thrust, you're moaning out again as you release.

Miguel continues to work you through it, working at your clit to make it last longer. You whimper in appreciation, body pressing up into his fingers for more. He chuckles at the involuntary movement, working you even after your body jolts from oversensitivity. His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop until he feels his own pleasure beginning to form its peak. WIth a few sharp thrusts and you moaning his name, he spills his hot seed into you. The feel of it filling you makes you come again, hips lifting and pressing into his pelvis to keep it all into you.

Miguel rubs soft circles into the skin of your hips to help you calm down, pressing kisses to your shoulders and muttering praise. He pulls out slowly, his cock an ombre of pink to creamy white cum as the same mix drips from you. His fingers fuck it back into you absentmindedly, only stopping when you cry out softly. He gives you time to rest, leaving to get a soft cloth to wipe you down.

Midway through his cleaning, you hand lands to his arm. He looks up at you questionably, watching the dazed look beginning to leave your eyes. But he can’t help the wide smile that forms on his face as you ask: “Again?”

Teehee

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #cherry's requests🍒#spiderman 2099 x you #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #atsv smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader

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nyx-aira · 2 years

Text

Headcanons: Moonknight characters with a sarcastic reader

Characters: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Layla El-Faouly, Arthur Harrow

A/N: Yes I caved in, I will write both of them :) It's just too good of an opposite to write and I'm gonna regret not writing both so yeah.

Also thanks for 900 followers, you guys are awesome ❤

TW! Swear words (that's it)

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

PSA c/@ynscrazylife

Steven

Steven can be just as sarcastic as you are.

If not indefinitely worse, when he had a bad day.

So your bond just came naturally although he still gets flustered sometimes on how blunt you can be because although he uses sarcasm too, most of the time he keeps his thoughts to himself.

When you followed them to Egypt you had always some comment to make.

"Yeah it's definitely a good idea to visit a tomb that most likely has something inside that wants to murder us"

Marc

Steven couldn't agree more but you went inside anyways.

Your only comment as things went south: "great, its not like I predicted how this would go at all"

Steven loved your bluntness but was always afraid it would get you into trouble - and it did - but that didn't stop you.

You have a competition on who can make Marc cringe more at your comments. Steven is loosing but he doesn't care. He just likes seeing you laugh and being happy.

Layla

Marc. Now Marc had a difficult relationship with sarcasm.

As he has been sharing his body with Steven for almost all of his life he was used to it but you? You were on a WHOLE OTHER LEVEL.

He would act all annoyed at your comments but secretly he loved them.

He loved how you could just make any threat seem so harmless with just a couple words and how you never felt afraid to say what's on your mind.

"Hey bone pigeon! Leave Marc the fuck alone with your stupid bullshit."

"Please stop referring to an ancient god as bone pigeon."

"What, he does look like one! Also what's up with the toilet paper obsession?"

He usually had to listen to Khonshu ranting about your antics but he ignored the gods remarks most of the time.

You were just looking out for him after all.Now Marc knew that most people would not understand your humour but he didn't care. He would glare at anyone who made a stupid remark and ignore the stares that were sent your way.

Arthur

Layla was surprised when she heard your sarcasm for the first time.

She was shocked for a moment but soon found herself laughing at your comments all the time.

You definitely spent way too much time with Steven.

"Yay let's follow your ex on a murder mission."

She very much agreed to that statement but just snickered as Marc glanced your way.

Layla loved your way with words and could listen to your rants for hours. Which she did most of the time because that was quality time to you two.

Layla would absolutely root for you in your competition with Steven.

"Listen I trust your judgement but that shirtless bitch on a horse doesn't seem too trustworthy."

Your comments were rude but true most of the time.

"Ha, told you so!"

"We're getting SHOT at! Can your victory dance wait a bit?"

"Fine but I was right."

Layla would lie if she said your comments didn't brighten her day.

-----

Oh boy did you annoy Arthur sometimes.

Not in a bad way, no, but if your partner just reveals to you that his mission is to free an Egyptian goddess and has explained basically his life work to you and your response is simply "sure sure" and you continue eating your chocolate bar it can be a bit disorienting to say so.

None the less Arthur loves you and your humour more than anything in the world.

You would make his day brighter and light up even the darkest situations with a sarcastic off hand comment.

"Let's follow an ancient scarab into the sands of Egypt, he said. What could possibly go wrong, he said."

Arthur really had to suppress laughter in front of his followers from time to time as you would whisper something in his ear.

"Is it just me or doesn't the moonlight suit look like some fancy toilet paper."

Your comments were always very blunt but that's what he liked so much about you. You always spoke your mind.

Weirdly enough you also had a thing for printing your comments on t-shirts.

So while Arthur walked around in his typical clothes you would trail behind, a shirt with the imprint "let's go and die by the hands of a mummy" on, as you headed to Egypt.

You had a collection of those shirts and Arthur loved, loved, loved gifting you new ones.

He would send his followers out to find the most horrendous shirts they could find just so he could watch the smile on your face as he gave them to you.

(He sometimes wore them to sleep as well but shh don't tell anyone)

Taglist: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @sokovianheadtilt @wandaswifeyforlifey @scarthefangirl @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @official-clint-barton @wlwlovesreading @multifandomfix @fairydxll @itsyourgirlmalise @eilarch @marvelwomen-simp @vostokoffscottage @sapphic-stress @dopeqff @adamcarlsenslvr

#marvel moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #marc spector #layla el faouly #arthur harrow #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #arthur harrow x reader #moon knight headcanons #headcanons #marvel #mcu

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