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#moon knight x desi!reader
jake-g-lockley · 2 years
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The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 1: Lord of Dance
Parings: Steven Grant x femdesi!Reader Warnings: Talking about anxiety and stress, parental trauma, racism, colorism, is this angst? Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Translations will be at the bottom of the chapter xoxo, this is the first time in a long time that I have written something outside of academic writing and I really pushed my brain over the edge with this haha
Taglist: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart Chapter 2
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You slowly and groggily sit up, stretching your arms up and over your head, right hand still holding onto your whale plushie. Blindly, you grab around at your bedside table for your phone with your left hand, switch it on and realize that you were awake before your alarm went off.
“Wow, I guess that I am way too excited for my first day of work huh?” You muttered to yourself, trying to blink away the sleep from your eyes.
You knew that you couldn’t go back to sleep, so you swung yourself out of bed and had a quick wash-up, and started to tidy up your flat. As you cleaned, your mind began to wander back to your past, which was riddled with uncertainty.
Indian and Hindu history has always been a passion of yours. You’ve always wanted to be a historian, finally to be the person to share your culture and history instead of hearing it from some vellaikaaran who had only learnt it from the history books and never really experienced the culture. But they never understood, your parents, your toxic, traditional adhering parents. They never wanted you to be a historian, instead, they wanted you to be the normal daughter, the one who would be a doctor, lawyer, or accountant. They constantly brought up your failures, your mistakes.
You look up and you gaze at the mirror in front of you and you see flashes of the girl who your parents wanted you to be. As the tears flowed down your cheeks, you saw the person who wasn’t her parent's daughter, living alone in her flat in London, struggling to get jobs to keep said flat, and enough anxiety and stress to put down an elephant. You think back to all the times you were called ugly by your relatives, how they would put you down for your golden brown skin.
“You are never going to get married if you don’t lighten up that skin of yours.” your grand-aunt once said.
“Your parents are fools for letting you go out looking like this, like someone’s maid.” your other aunt would say.
Those words never left you, no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin raw or how many at-home remedies you tried. You sob at the times where you were cat-called and thrown slurs at the restaurant that you worked at to get you through university.
You kept to yourself and never made any friends in university, you felt like a loser compared to all of the girls who had confidence levels higher than the Burj Khalifa. The bullies made you feel small, withdrawn and you had nowhere to go.
You were tired, so tired of everyone letting you know that you were not good enough.
As you blink away your tears, and you see yourself again, the you that you wanted people to see. The you who would sit with your great grandmother, your Acchi, for hours on end, listening to all of the tales, myths, legends and even the pain that was endured by your ancestors before you. Moving out of your parent's house and in with Acchi was probably the best decision you made in your adult life.
You were only 18, freshly kicked out of your home for wanting to pursue history and you had no one to help you. But Acchi was there and she insisted that you come and live with her in Chidambaram, Tamil Nadu, to learn her art. Acchi was a classical dance teacher, she taught Bharatanatyam.
You never knew that you could dance, your parents made you stay at home and learn multiple musical instruments as they noted your slightly plump frame. Despite your protests, Acchi never stopped teaching you. She had a heavenly singing voice that would help you feel lost in the stories that you were dancing to.
You danced till your lungs lost their breath, you danced till your legs were so sore that you could barely move them without feeling waves of pain, you danced till the trauma of your past dissipated and the sounds of your salangai mended your broken heart.
That was until it all stopped. One minute she was there and the next minute she was gone. You knew Acchi was getting old, but she was nimble and healthy and oh you wished that she would live forever. When she succumbed to old age, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You would sit at the temple for hours and hours, staring directly at the idol of Lord Shiva, begging Him silently to bring her back, to heal your misery. Until you felt it. You could never explain what happened that day. Something just told you to follow your gut, to remember everything that you have been taught.
The stories that your Acchi told you had ignited something that could never be extinguished and it burned through you like your lifeline. The gods who kept you alive and the dance that channeled energy that only you could justify. Now, 10 years later, you knew your path.
A weird form of clarity settled in and you felt some healing energy channeling through you. “Only you can write your own history Y/N. Today is the day that you prove everyone wrong and make your Acchi proud!” you muttered back at your tear-stained reflection. You wipe your eyes and step carefully towards your bathroom to get ready for your first day. ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You stare up at the colossal British Museum in front of you and warmth spreads through your chest even with the cold winds cutting harshly into your delicate skin. You grab your coat closer, say a small prayer and stomp away towards the entrance. The museum was not fully open yet, only a few staff here and there and a man at the security desk giggling at something on his phone.
Suddenly, you spot the magnificent artifact. Standing on a pedestal a few feet away from you was the statue of Lord Siva as the Lord of Dance, Lord Nataraja. Tears threatened to accumulate in your eyes again and you stepped forwards, not noticed by the giggling man. Your eyes scanned the idol in front of you and you felt a small pang of pain. The British were famous for stealing artifacts from the countries that they colonized and now all of them are displayed at their national museum.
You bit your lip as your mind fumbled at the thoughts that were flowing around you. “You're not supposed to be here, you should be at home, in India.” you addressed the Lord in front of you in a whisper.
Talking to the gods directly like this is not a thing, but to you, it felt normal as you believed that god came from within you. Then you smiled slightly and said “Since you are here, I’d like to ask for a small favor.” you hesitate, thinking of how to word your next sentence.
“Please send me a sign that I’ll be safe and I’ll be okay.”
A slight shiver runs down your spine as you breathe in the cold air whooshing through the museum and suddenly, you felt that fire inside of you as you held your gaze straight at the idol, that feeling of home, security as well as passion danced around you. Without even thinking twice, you let it envelop you and you pressed your hands together in prayer and you closed your eyes bowing your head slightly. You didn’t know how long you stood there but then you heard the sweetest sound your brain had ever processed.
You thought you imagined it at first, and you kept your eyes closed but you lifted your head slightly. It was a voice, a soft beautiful voice coming from the direction of the idol before you. Then you furrowed your eyebrows, thinking hard. “Does Lord Nataraja speak with a British accent?” you muttered.
Then you heard it again, soft, welcoming. But then you felt the hand on your shoulder and your eyes flew open as realization dawned, bringing you out of your little trance. Your eyes met with the most beautiful brown baby doe eyes that were framed with long dark eyelashes and laced with worry. You gasped slightly, bringing your hand to your mouth as the person before you snatched his hand back quickly. You took a step back and you couldn't help but stare.
He was gorgeous. Nope, scratch that, he looked like a god, despite being clad in a wild patterned shirt, his pale, olive undertone skin glowing slightly under the soft twinkle of the display lights. His curls flopped lazily onto his forehead and his eyebrows were knitted together in a concerned manner. His cheekbones sat high on his face and it curved down to a magnificent jaw. Your eyes trailed down the hook of his nose and settled onto his lips which were moving ever so gracefully which made your heart skip a few beats. They looked soft, oh so soft.
His lips were moving.
He was talking to you.
“Heya, you alright?” his voice penetrated through your thoughts, still soft and welcoming but confused. You opened your mouth and blinked but couldn't get the words out of your voice box. Instead you nod as your eyes still scan the beautiful man, his hands clasped close to him, his shoulders rounded as he slouches slightly forward. Then suddenly, you catch his name tag in your gaze.
Steven.
Suddenly it all clicked as your brain started to fire up your neurons again. This was Steven Grant, the guy you were supposed to meet for your first day. You took a deep breath, realizing that you hadn’t been breathing and suddenly realized that you were acting like an absolute moron.
“Hi, there! Oh, you must be Steven, I’m Y/N, I’m so sorry for this, I should have waited for you at the front desk. I’m okay, just slightly overwhelmed by the morning rush, that's all!” you blurt out, earning a beaming smile from Steven.
Oh yea, this man is going to be the death of me.
“Oh, so you’re the newbie! Yea, I’m Steven. With a V! Welcome to the British Museum. So, what drew you to Lord Nataraja?” He asked enthusiastically, averting his eyes towards the statue. You weren’t expecting to be quizzed so early on but you answered anyway.
“Well, I’m a Hindu, a Shaivite, to be exact, and I’ve always prayed to Lord Nataraja. This statue is from the Chola period and it is made in my ancestral homeland, Tamil Nadu. He is in the ananda tandava position as the Lord of Dance, with Ganga flowing through his hair and Apasmara, the dwarfish demon of ignorance, under his right foot.” You say, before catching Steven’s eye again and stopping abruptly. He was grinning from ear to ear, a boyish smile, as kind and as warm as his voice was.
“Oh gods. I’m so sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?” you say, slightly shrinking under Steven’s gaze.
“No, no you’re not!” He says chuckling slightly. “It's great to know that the people we’re hiring actually know what they’re talking about”
You return his smile. He seems like such a genuine person and radiated a form of happiness that you wanted to be engulfed in. “Come on then, let me show you where you’ll be working!” Steven says cheerfully as he beacons you towards the museum offices.
Oh, it’s going to be a long, long day, gods help me.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations for the Tamil words: - Vellaikaaran: white people - Acchi: Maternal Great-Grandmother - Chidambaram, Tamil Nadu: City and State in India - Bharatanatyam: Classical Indian Dance - Salangai: A musical anklet tied to the feet of classical Indian dancers - Ganga: Ganga is the personification of the river Ganges who is worshiped by Hindus as the goddess of purification and forgiveness.
Chapter 2
Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*
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wysteria-clad · 26 days
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Mehendi.
paring: fem! desi! reader x moon boys; established relationship
warnings: swearing
genre: fluff
note:
- a quick drabble
- yes, I'm very creative with the title lol
-reader is not an expert on mehndi in this fic, no hate, just for the funsies~
-my writing style is kinda unhinged here?
- no plot, just ✨vibes✨
- gif credit Thank you to the creator! 🌷
₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊
Diwali was coming up. And you wanted to practice mehendi designs. Who was your best candidate victim other than Jake who was switching currently? He reluctantly agreed to it.
"Please, papi."
That's all it took.
As if he could say 'no' to you. He'd literally do anything for you. They all would. You should have gotten used to it at this point.
This wasn't on Jake's agenda for the day. Life was uncertain, but with you, it was a welcome one.
You opened up your pinterest account for the ✨inspo✨. You were both on your fluffy bed, in your apartment, with you sitting cross legged with Jake's hand on your knee, palms facing up.
"Don't move your hand!"
"I'm not moving my hand."
You are so concentrated and invested in this, your eyebrows furrowed, tongue sticking out, he couldn't help but find it adorable.
Jake Lockley wasn't a patient man, but for you though, he wouldn't dare to move until you say so.
Being patient for you is one of his love languages he converses in with you.
After twenty minutes, the mehendi design did not turn out exactly like the picture on pinterest. Look, you tried your best, that's all it matters.
You frowned, the line wasn't neat, you accidentally smudged here and there.
But to Jake it was the prettiest thing he has ever seen, next to his princesa, of course.
Marc switched the next day, waking up confused as fuck to see your not so best mehendi desig- Ahem, I meant your ✨ masterpiece✨ on his hands. He actually likes it.
And Steven excitedly showing it to everyone at work for the next two weeks till the mehendi designs vanishes like the cutiepie he is <3. He is so excited and proud of you.
You were not satisfied and made a little sad face and your boyfriends could not bear it. They convinced you it's pretty, and constantly reminded you how much they adore it.
All three of your boyfriends are your #1 supporters and hype you up no matter what. As they should 💅🏽.
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Khonshu mumbling in the background about this is *not* how the moon knight supposed to be, receiving a glare from Marc, and sassy a response from Steven. Jake simply ✨does not care✨
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cherryesskisses · 2 years
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Fate Laid Differently In a Taxi Ride
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Jake Lockley × fem desi!reader
Word count: 1k+ words
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This wasn’t the night that you had wished for.
When your boyfriend called you up in the afternoon to tell you that he would fetch you to take you out for dinner, you were beyond the moon. Both of you had been so busy for the past weeks that neither of you had been able to do anything together, be it indoors or outdoors. So you were excited and spent hours rummaging through your wardrobe, trying on one dress to another. Finally, you settled on the black cami dress, satin and fitted against your figure, that you remembered your boyfriend liked. Your face was covered with makeup and your dark, raven hair flowed freely down your back. No matter how modern your outfit may be, you would always love to adorn yourself with accessories of your Desi culture—a simple matching set of Jhumka drop earrings and necklace.
Basically, you were dressed over the top, not just to please your boyfriend but yourself. You deserved a good night and having yourself pampered. Soon enough, your boyfriend came by minutes after and off you two went to your favourite italian restaurant. You were pleased at how the night came to be.
So the outcome of the night wasn’t what you were expecting.
Here you were sitting opposite of your boyfriend, who started off sweet and romantic in the beginning, but now looked guilty and sad like someone who just committed a crime.
“I’m sorry, y/n, but I actually want to break things off with you.”
Your heart shattered into pieces and you felt yourself becoming one with rage and disappointment. Tears were already free flowing down your cheeks and without replying, you stood up from your chair and headed out. Deep down, you were hoping that he would chase after you but after more than 20 minutes of walking down the sidewalk, you realised he wouldn’t be chasing after you.
You wanted to break down and cry from the pain you felt but you were not the type to cry in public, or at least you tried your best not to. So quickly you hailed down a taxi and entered the vehicle to hide your messy self. The moment you sat down at the back seat, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak or look up. You stared down at your lap, hoping that the night would just swallow you whole. Without realising the taxi began to move even though you had yet to mention a destination as you were drowning with waves of emotions.
The taxi moved smoothly and you couldn't even tell how long or when it began. Before you know it, your soft sobbing filled up the space inside the vehicle.
“Are you okay?” The taxi driver spoke soft, curious and you noticed the Spanish accent. Hearing his voice somehow calmed down your nerves a little and it made you look up. You could only see dark brown eyes through the rear-view mirror as they stared back at you. Somehow seeing them made you feel a little warm and safe even though you know nothing about this stranger.
“Just—” you laughed dryly, wiping the tears away with your fingers, “just stupid, stupid night is all.”
“Someone broke your heart.” It was a statement and not a question, as if he could read you through the dark of the night.
You wanted to deny at first but you chuckled and nodded. "Yeah."
"Your boyfriend?" He inquired as he swiftly took a left.
"Ex-boyfriend." You corrected him with a slight edge to your tone. Remembering your ex-boyfriend made your blood boil and hands curling up into fists—regretting that you didn't punch him before you left the restaurant.
"Lo siento, hermosa." The corners of his eyes crinkled up slightly. "Ex-boyfriend."
"He must have been a stupid guy to hurt a beautiful woman like you." The taxi driver added.
You shook your head as you felt warmth travelled through your cheeks at the sudden compliments—you knew basic Spanish to understand him speaking in that language. Tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, you somehow jumped to the first thought in your mind. "Have you been a taxi driver for a while now?"
He seemed amused at the question before shrugging his shoulders. "For as long as I can remember, yes. As a taxi driver, you meet many people. Bad, good, rude, kind—you name it. You would either chat with them or say nothing."
It felt weird that you found yourself captivated with his voice; it was calming and playful too, and hidden with untold stories. Not to mention that the Spanish accent lured you in further even without seeing his face fully.
"Besides that, there are also times when some passengers forget to tell where they wanna go and I just drive around."
It took you a few minutes to take his words in and fully understand the meaning. When you did, you gasped and cursed yourself in your mother tongue at your foolishness, smacking your forehead in embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry. It slipped out of my mind." You muttered softly but loud enough that he laughed. His laughter made you smile though you suppressed yourself—at least, you thought you did.
"It's okay. I don't mind accompanying a beautiful passenger like you." He quipped while winking at you through the rear-view mirror. Again, you blushed like a teenage girl. Then you proceeded to tell your address and he redirected the route to your neighbourhood.
The ride to your apartment was filled with chatters between you two. Random questions were easily exchanged and the both of you talked as if you had met one another before. So when he finally pulled up outside of your apartment building, you felt your heart sunken in despair. You didn’t want to end the night and wanted nothing more but to continue talking with the taxi driver. Yet, you knew better than to keep someone from doing their job especially when the night was still long. With a reluctant heart, you pulled out a couple of bills from your purse to hand them over to him.
“Hermosa, it’s fine. Keep the money. I don’t need it.”
“But—”
He let out a charming chuckle as he fixed the flat cap on his head; with the help of the lights outside, you can see a bit more of his handsome features that were causing your heart to race a mile.
“Maybe..” he paused and flickered his eyes upwards back to the rear-view mirror to look at you, “you’d like to go on a dinner with me as payment instead?”
His suggestion caused both of your brows to raise up out of surprise and also the fact that your mouth almost agreed as quickly as you heard it.
“My ma told me not to say yes to strangers.” You replied with a hint of playfulness and seriousness mixed together in your voice and it was visible on your features.
“Then we best make ourselves acquainted, right?” He replied with a hum.
Maybe you should be more wary of him. After all, you only knew him for less than an hour, or was it less than 30 minutes—either way, you should have been more careful of the taxi driver. But you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to know him better and accepting his offer.
Turning around from his seat, you finally saw his face properly and you were correct, he was ravishingly good looking, and your heart stuttered a beat.
Offering you the most charming smile that one can have, he extended his hand to you as if to seal the deal of your fate to be entwined with him.
“I’m Jake.”
You did what your heart told you and shook his hand.
“I’m y/n.”
This wasn't the night you wished for but you didn't mind a bit.
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Translation:
Lo siento: I'm sorry
Hermosa: Beautiful
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A/N: I wasn't sure if I correctly portray Jake Lockley but this is how I envisioned he'd be with someone he finds interesting. Hopefully, I did him justice! If not, I'm sorry—😭
Also, I'm not a desi girl but this is made specially for my dear friend!
Happy belated birthday gift and Happy Deepavali @jake-g-lockley <333
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softieekayy · 11 months
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Serenity
Marc spector x desi!oc
Word count: 1.8k
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Shivangi living next to Steven and Marc was a blessing. Each day they’d have breakfast together at Shivangi’s as she supplied them with the most fluffy pancakes Steven has ever had and a tall glass of orange juice. All vegan of course. When Marc would have breakfast with her it would be some eggs and pancakes with a tall cup of coffee as Shivangi drank Chai. She’s lived there for six months now yet London was still covered in a forecast of constant clouds. Not that she had minded, maybe a little. There were rare moments in the middle of the night when Shivangi missed the warmth of the Cairo sun on her skin and the smell of sandalwood that encompassed her home. That was it, she missed home. Although it wasn’t the place that she called home, it was the people. Like the old lady that lived next door and would more often than not try to marry Shivangi off to her various grandsons.
“You’re not getting any younger habibti. My grandson is a good man with a good job. You will be taken care of well.” Aya, the old woman would often tell, stressing on the fact that Shivangi would be well taken care of. Of course the young woman knew that Aya meant no harm and just worried for her. Shivangi and Layla were young when they lost their parents and ever since then Shivangi took the role of being a mother for a year younger Layla. Aya knew that Shivangi was a daughter to her and she wanted her to be taken care of, if not by her grandsons then someone else who would. She missed Aya. A small yet sad smile placed itself on Shivangi and Marc, the one who had the body this morning, looked up at her, setting down the paper that he was reading. More often than not he was called an old man by Shivangi and not once did he mind it. It was still early hours of the morning but duty calls and both Steven and her had work. Marc reached out his hand to her tentatively, brushing the back of his knuckles against hers. Shivangi looked up at Marc only to see a worried face peering back at her.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Marc asked and that was all it took for Shivangi to break her resolve. Marc, worried and panicked, stood up and pulled Shivangi into his chest, letting her clutch onto his t-shirt as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. His cheek atop Shivangi’s head as he gently caressed her hair, letting her cry out whatever it was that bothered her. A few moments later her sobs settled into hiccups and sniffling.
“Shivangi, are you okay?” Marc asked again. This time turning her chair so she faced him. The young woman looked up at him, eye bloodshot red and she wiped her nose with the sleeve of Steven’s grey shirt that she wore. Her bottom lip wobbled and she took a couple deep breaths before speaking.
“I miss Aya.” That was all Shivangi said, bringing her hand up to her nose bridge, trying to massage the forthcoming headache away. Marc pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back slowly as he muttered comforting words to her.
“Aya, she was my mother Marc. Not by blood but by bond, always there for me when Layla left and I was alone. She always made sure I didn’t die or that I was well and taken care of. She was my mother while I was Layla’s.” Shivangi explained as she pulled back.
“Being here, in London, countries away and in a different continent makes me feel as though I betrayed her. Left her in the wind with no explanation.” Shivangi explained to Marc as her voice cracked.
“Oh sweetheart. You didn’t leave her in the cold. She knows that what you left for was better than what you had. She knows, even if you didn’t tell her. She knows that you’re okay and you will be okay.” Marc comforted Shivangi, taking her smaller hand in his, noting down the fact that she was freezing. Shivangi still had a kicked puppy look on her face as she looked at him, clearly doubting his words.
“Okay come here. Lay down for a while and take a small nap. We have four hours before we have to be at work.” Marc advised and Shivangi just let him pull her down to the worn out blue couch. She laid down, her feet in Marc’s lap as he pulled the blanket on top of her. The morning cold and her dull headache lulling her to sleep slowly alongside the way Marc’s hands rubbed up and down her legs and before she knew it, Shivangi was asleep.
Marc waited a while before she stood up slowly, not wanting to awake the sleeping girl, he gently took her legs down from his lap and placed them on the couch before making his way to the kitchen. The kitchen was left as it was, one cup of chai that was now cold along with Marc’s coffee. Shivangi finished her pancakes although Marc’s were still lukewarm, he sat down and finished them, pouring an ungodly amount of syrup over them, gulping down the cold coffee. After finishing the food, he did the dishes and put them in their place and an hour later he was done, the clock showing 7:30 am.
Marc made his way over to Shivangi and stirred her awake. She opened her eyes and looked up at Marc before looking around. Her mind still a bit hazy from sleep.
“Morning' sweetheart.” Marc greeted her with a small chuckle as she glared at him. She sat up and pulled her hair down to tie it up again.
“How long have I been asleep?” Shivangi muttered, asking Marc while squeezing her eyes shut.
“Couple hours.” Marc replied as Shivangi got up while nodding and making her way to her room.
“Gonna go get ready for work.” She told him, exhaustion seeping through every word.
“Me too. Gotta make sure Steven doesn’t have Donna on his ass again. God knows he’d cry if he misses dinner with you again.” Marc snorted and Shivangi laughed a little. The two bid each other goodbye at the door with Shivangi giving Marc a tight hug and telling him he’d better come in for dinner.
Shivangi took her time getting ready for work. Her body was a temple and deserved to be treated like one. First she took a shower with the jasmine and sandalwood soap bar that Steven and Marc loved oh so much. Not that they’d ever admit it to her. Her once long hair was still long, but styled differently, something to suit the London girl persona that she’d taken on, along with smoking cigarettes. Shiva did not like that, he claimed that her body was a temple and it should be treated like one, however smoking was quite addictive but she tried her best to quit. Getting out of the shower she dressed herself in her favored long sleeve crème turtleneck and a pair of grey pants with a grey coat. The weather outside was brutally cold, especially for her.
Shivangi made her way out the building, Marc long gone. Steven’s shift started before hers but they always managed to have lunch together.
“You’re quite fond of him aren’t you? Hm, I suppose human is good for you.” Shiva’s voice rattled in Shivangi’s head, giving her a slight scare. Luckily no one was in the book shop this early to witness her speaking to herself.
“He is a complicated man, my lord, but you and I both know how much I love puzzles.” Shivangi teased, and Shiva just laughed. This young girl who had become his avatar, his human form, was his daughter.
“Of course my dear. This path that awaits you both, it was inevitable that you’d cross. It was written in the stars, long before any of you were created.” Shiva informs Shivangi and she smiles, mindlessly arranging the flowers on the counter.
Their conversation ended shortly after and before the young woman knew, it was time for lunch.
“Going out with the handsome fella are you now dearie?” Maya, an older woman with grey hair starting to come in yet still living with a youthful soul asked Shivangi who simply blushed and nodded before noticing Marc waiting for her outside.
“Hi Marc.” Shivangi said soulfully, wrapping her arm in Marc’s as the two walked down and through the bustling city of London.
“Hi Sweetheart.” Marc responded, pulling Shivangi into him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they walked. While Steven was vegan, Marc was not.
“How’s your day been?” She asked, sitting down from across from him and Marc just looked at her. The way her red brown hair fell onto her shoulders and down her back, the way her kohl lined eyes made them look as if she was staring deep into your soul, reading each piece of you.
“As always. Donna banging in about things I could care less about. Putting on a fake accent and selling candy, with khonshu talking in my ear of course.” Marc rambled and Shivangi listened, looking at him with stars in her eyes, as if he plucked them and put them there himself. She laughed a laugh that made Marc want to drop everything he was doing and drown himself in it.
“How was your day so far?” Marc asked, taking a huge bite of his burrito.
“It was good, I arranged books and flowers and talked to Maya and Shiva about things. My day has been very slow so far.” Shivangi said, taking a bite of her own burrito. Their lunch was slow, Marc and Shivangi talked about useless things and Marc made her laugh, he wanted that sound to be the last thing he heard before he died. Unfortunately for them, time was never kind and lunch ended far before they’d like it to. It didn’t matter that they came to work together, ate together and left together, not seeing each other for just 8 hours a day was disappointing.
“I’ll see you at home?” Marc asked, dropping Shivangi off to work. The younger woman looked at him and nodded.
“You’ll see me at dinner Marc, like always.” She laughed, reaching around to give him a quick hug. Marc laughed with her, feeling a little embarrassed that he even asked her that question. He made his way back to work, the slight scent of sandalwood and jasmine sticking to his clothes, a reminder that Shivangi would be there with him always, whether it be physical or not, she would always be by his side.
A/n: This is like a year too late.
Tagging my loves: @shawty-writes-a-little @chchchcheni @jake-g-lockley @brekkers-desigirl @rantingsstuff @guzaarysh @imarvelatthestars @tocoi @idkwtfimdoing2
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popquizhot-shot · 2 years
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Rasmalai juice staining her lips
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Marc/Steven/Jake x fem!Desi!reader
Warning: racism, fights with mom, desi education system, crying, use of gaalis.
Tagging: @lil-stark @just-laufeyson @winter-moony @luvsersi @idli-dosa @directioner5life @fangirlwithasweettooth @uglyasswoman @navs-bhat
The bangles aren't what attract his attention, nor is it the fact that you're wearing a kurta in the heat and listening to ghazals.
It's the bliss on your face as your head falls back in satisfaction after eating your weekly bowl of rasmalai.
It's the way the juice is dripping from your lips.
He wants to kiss it off.
"Jake? Anything wrong?" you ask him, your lovely thick eyebrows furrowed as you lick your lips.
He just shakes his head, enamored at the fact that someone like you even gives a single shit about him. He understands why you love Steven, the guy was sunshine incarnate. And Marc, who showed his love often and communicated his feelings openly.
But him? What made him special?
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice your hand come closer to cup his face, the cold glass bangle shaking him out of his thoughts.
His heart began to beat faster as you smiled, coming closer. Your fingers lightly dancing over his face, tracing the contours of his nose, smoothening his furrowed brow, softly rubbing his cheek bones.
"You have no idea how much I love you, huh?" you murmured.
He scoffed slightly, trying not to blush. You huffed out a laugh.
"Pichi."(idiot) and then you kissed him, lips tasting of rasmalai. Bangles jingling as your hands moved to his hair, tugging lightly. Your chunni was discarded.
The ghazals kept playing as you stared at each other, getting lost in each other as you had so many times before. Your kohl-lined eyes, were looking at him with so much love he was taken aback. He didn't need anymore reassurance.
----
He is supposed to be the calm one out of the three.
Yet he can't help but feel his blood boil when he sees you crying.
As he cups your face and makes you look at him, his heart breaks at the tear stains and the smudged kohl, which was always immaculate. Your lips are wobbling as you mumble incoherently.
"Baby, what happened?" he asks softly.
" Oh Marc, my boss, that harami.(asshole)" was all you managed to say before pulling him into a hug and sobbing into his chest.
"Oh baby, it's okay. You need to calm down. Do you want Steven to front?"
You shake your head, "Na na, it's okay. Koi bath nahi.(it's nothing)"
He smiles comfortingly, "Want some chai?"
He nearly laughs at the way your eyes light up as you nod.
A few minutes later, after you've washed your face and calmed down, he asks you again, "What did your boss do?"
You sigh, "He's one suar ka aulaad(son of a pig). You know how many nights I've stayed up late, finishing his reports for him, doing his work, and then doing my own work to the best of my ability. I'm one of the best writers in the team and I was so sure I would get the promotion, arey(used to show exasperation) everyone else was expecting me to get it. But that white piece of shit gave the promotion to Micheal, who didn't do a single thing. And when I asked him about it, all he said was that Micheal deserved it more because he was born here and he would benefit from it as a citizen of this country. Like, what shit is that? I don't deserve a promotion for all the shit I've done for him, and because I'm Hindustani? Somehow that doesn't click."
He clenches his jaw, "That jerk."
You nod and stand up, "Kutta.(Dog) I refuse to be made to feel small because of where I'm from. Arey, what right does that haramzaade(bastard) have? To state that me being Indian is a good enough reason to give MY promotion, the one I worked my ass off for, to some white dude who doesn't even lift a finger?"
"He has no right, baby. No right at all." he stands and takes your hands, pulling you into a hug, "Want me to teach him a lesson?"
You nod against his chest, "Don't let Jake kill him, please."
He chuckles, kissing your hair.
"Oh!" you pull back and reach into your bag on the table. You pull out a box and open the top to reveal sweets of all kinds.
"Found a good Indian store and I just had to buy these! They look just like Nani's." (nani means maternal grandmother)
He smiles as you take one out and cup your hand under it, moving to feed him a bite. His mouth is rewarded with a burst of flavour that leaves him wanting more.
"Nice, na?" you wink.
He swears he's never loved you more.
----------
"Ma, no. Please understand what I'm trying to say! How am I disrespecting you? I never raised my voice once! Please just listen!"
Steven has met your mom over video chat a few times, and she's one of the sweetest women he's ever seen. And yet, this very woman is the reason his love his currently trying not to scream into a pillow.
"Amma, just-. Look, you're in a bad mood, I'll call you later when you've calmed down." you cut the call and groan into your palm.
He slowly makes his way to the sofa where you're currently seated and plops down beside you.
"Lovey..what happened? Why was mum upset?" he asks.
"Nothing, jaan. She gets into one of her moods and expects me to remain in a good one because she's elder and she supposedly is never wrong and all that shit. All the elders in our family, except my nani are like that. Being elder makes you right, being younger makes you wrong, and if you think otherwise, you'll get a slap."
"Oh, lovey. I'm so sorry." he pulls you into a hug.
"Tell me what to do, Steven." you choke out, " I mean, one time she's the sweetest mother on Earth and the next she's like some fire-breathing dragon. She's the one who told me to pursue what I want, everytime I bitched about the education system back at home. She's the one who gave me chai everytime I dozed off during studying history. Gandhi sucks by the way. She cares for me, she loves me, i know that. And yet, if she loves me, why do I feel like this everytime we have a conversation?"
"Lovey, you know your mum better than I do. It sucks that she's like that. But you have to understand that all her life, she's probably been treated the same way you're being treated right now, she's would have felt the exact same way after every disagreement with your nani. Talk to her when she's calm, explain your situation. I know it hurts, baby. It'll be okay." he kisses your forehead.
"Oi Hoi, you've become quite the clever man, meri jaan. Thank you, thank you for being so understanding, so caring." you kiss him lightly and rest your forehead against his.
"Can we dance?" he asks after a few moments.
You grin, reaching for your phone and playing that one song that he's become obsessed with. The one from the Bollywood movie. You move slowly in tandem. Snorts of laughter coming from him when you trip over a discarded pair of chappals.
As the music intensifies, the both of you spin and crash into each other. Your jhumka's swing and your bangles jingle. Your kurta flies as he spins you in the air and kisses you.
Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta hein, yaara, mein kya karu. (I see god in you, my love, what should I do)
------
They're speechless.
She's looking so pretty. Jake coos.
Damn right, mate. Steven agrees.
Your lehenga is a dark green, gold embroidery on the shawl, and blouse. Your hands have mehendi on them, your lips tinted. Your eyes lined with kohl, you're wearing your signature jhumkas. The smile on your face as you look away shyly almost makes him fall flat on his face.
"Baby" he takes a step closer, the sherwani your mom gifted him matching with yours, "You look so lovely. Wow."
"Aw, thanks Marc. You look amazing as well."
Shut up and kiss her! Jake shouts
No, it'll ruin her lipstick! Steven protests.
He settles for taking her hand in his and kissing her palm.
"I'm going to marry you someday." he confessed.
Hell yeah!
"I can't wait." you smile, "I love you."
187 notes · View notes
dystopian-reverie · 2 years
Note
Hi (this is wysteria-clad) just tossing idea of Tamil reader x moon boys.
Imagine when you take the boys to a family function and they see so many immediate and extended family members, they are nice to them, constantly giving them something like eat especially sweets, excitedly hugging them, and the boys get overwhelmed in a good way. Hello, Indian weddings 😂
Title: Vanna Kolathil Vaanam! (The Sky, a Colourful Mess!)
Pairing: Desi!Reader x Moon Boys
Rating: General, pure wholesomeness
Summary: Guiding your boyfriends through Indian culture and customs, which you know can be quite overwhelming. Indian family and neurodivergent western boyfriend bonding time! Unrealistic desi family representation that made me wish I literally had these people as my relatives.
A/n: *cracks knuckles* all my time spent daydreaming about dragging the Moon boys into Desi, especially Tamil culture is at last put to use, I was BORN ready to answer this ask to the point where I'm turning this into a fic, so here I go.
Not proofread so if you see any glaring mistakes, no you didn't.
Translation to all the words and phrases is included at the end.
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Convincing your family that you're going to bring your current boyfriend to this year's Diwali, as you guessed, wasn't an easy feat.
The moment you opened your mouth and the word "Boyfriend" spilled out, your entire family, extended included, nearly pounced on you, with an exception of your cousins, who you were hoping would save you and have your back from the elders.
The words following didn't help them calm down any further.
"He isn't Tamil??" Your uncle asked anxiously.
"No, Mama, he isn't-"
"Oh, a multi-cultural wedding in the future then!" Your younger cousin chimed in, putting in his dime to make this as light-hearted as possible.
"A North Indian then? Ayy, do we all finally have to learn Hindi?" Your aunt joked, getting collected chuckles from everyone in the room.
Forcing a laugh that sounded like an orca whale choking, you gulped. This is gonna be harder than you thought.
"He isn't an Indian, aththa, he is... Well, he was born in America, then spent some time in London, but he travels around the world a lot,"
"Hold on, he's an American?? Like NRI?" Your younger aunt asked.
"No, chithi, he isn't brown, at all-"
"Ada kadavule!" Your grandma gasped.
Shit. When the oldest in the pack are displeased, then your entire plan of introducing your boyfriends to your family might as well go down the drains.
"A white man. My daughter is going to marry a white man," Your dad kept murmuring in disbelief.
"He isn't white either," You mumbled. "He is of Latino descent"
Your family stared at you, wide eyes blinking at you. You knew how alien this is all to your family. Sending you off to America for your higher studies, as they all expected, came with more consequences than they'd thought.
They all were trying their best to be supportive and change their worldviews to accommodate a person into this wonderful family, and it meant the world to you. This could've easily been way worse, as bad as you disowning them all and running away to him forever.
Steven's calming and reassuring words echoed in your brain. He had asked you to be confident and level-headed while talking to your family, promising that everything was going to turn out fine.
It took Marc months to finally tell you that he's ready for you to talk about him to his family. You never pushed him, or constantly brought up the topic. You gave him all the time and space he needed to mull over that idea. Sharing your childhood stories meant him learning all about Indian family dynamics and whatnot, and isn't that enough for a poor Western man to fear for his life?
"So how big is your family?" Jake had asked, making you nearly choke on your idli.
"You do not wanna know, chellam," You gulped some water and went back to eating.
"Guess we all have to download duolingo then," Your younger uncle said and everyone laughed.
"So who is he? What's his name?" Your mom asked.
"Before we get into all of that, there's something important I need to tell you all," You fidgeted with your dupatta.
"Thangam, we just asked you his name?" Your uncle asked.
"He has DID," You blurted. "Dissociative Identity Disorder," You looked at your psychiatrist cousin, hoping he'd take over from here to explain all the technical stuff. You could do it yourself, but you just wanted all the eyes of you for just a second.
After giving your family some cool-down time to wrap their minds around it, they asked you what happened to him to the point he had to develop this disorder, to which you promptly said that it was not your story to share, it was your boyfriend's.
"He has three alters. They are all my boyfriends,"
"Holy shit, y/n has three boyfriends? While I'm here struggling to land even one?" Your younger cousin said, few asked him to stop swearing, and few laughed along but mostly, she did help in bringing down the tension in the air.
"Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley" You proceeded to tell your eager family all about the love of your life, playing with your bangles the whole time, excluding the part of them being ex-avatars of an ancient Egyptian deity and Marc's days as a mercenary.
"See, all of them are working and well-mannered gentlemen, I always knew you would choose well, Kanna," Your grandad smiled at you, as you felt the tight knot that you didn't realize was there loosen up considerably, finally letting you breathe properly.
--
"Y/n where are you? Everyone is waiting for you guys! Are y'all still getting ready?" You read your older brother's text and sent a hasty reply that you guys will reach your grandparent's house in 5 minutes.
The truth was, Marc and you were already parked at the end of the street, going over all the norms and relations, how to call them, and such one last time.
"Your mom is my aththa, your dad is my mama, your brother is my machan, and your little sister- who is she to me?" Marc looked up at you.
"I don't know, I just know that you're her mama, okay? I know, I know, there are lots of relations using the term mama, like uncle, father-in-law, or brother-in-law for younger girls. You'll get the hang of it soon enough," You took his hands into yours and gave him an encouraging squeeze.
"Marc, baby, you do know that you don't have to do this. I can just call everyone now and tell them that you can't make it-"
"No," Marc shook his head. "Y/n, I have to do this. I want to do this. They're your family, they are important to you. Which means they're important to me too,"
"Steven?" You asked. Marc just nodded, and the next second, the man sitting next to you was your sweet Steven.
"Hey, you ready?" You asked and he nodded, running his hand through his hair, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I'll just be glad at the end of the day if this vetti doesn't fall off," He joked.
"Aye, don't worry about that! I tied it around you myself, it won't fall off, okay?" You laughed, your fingers hovering over his shirt and collar.
"I'm just wearing a simple shirt and vetti, darling, but look at you," He said, eyes sweeping over you as a blush crept on your cheek.
"You look gorgeous, love" He smiled, his wide eyes shining bright.
"You don't look half bad yourself, Romeo. Hey, is Jake here? Can I talk to him?" You asked.
"'Course, love," he said before letting way to his other alter to front.
"Oh and remember, all of you, I know this is a celebration, but a public display of affection is... not recommended, okay?" You said, checking your bag to make sure you had all the supplies. One can never be too sure if they're all set while entering an Indian celebration. "This is not a regular Diwali celebration for my family this year, we are hosting nearly the entire neighborhood," You mumbled, praying that everything goes well.
"Let's just hope there are hidden corners and passages in the house," Jake said, earning a playful glare from you.
"What? You expect me to keep my hands off you when you look like that?" Jake snaked his arm around your waist to pull you close and plant a kiss on your temple.
You were wearing an off-white and crimson saree decorated with embroidered patterns. Adorned with pieces of jewelry you and your family spent hours selecting, you knew you practically shined with all the gold framing your face, neck and waist, and wrist.
Throwing a glance at him, you had to bite back the urge to say that it was going to be harder to keep your hands off of him when he looked that good.
Hair gelled to perfection, a week full of good night's sleep, shopping, and spa made his dark circles disappear and made him glow, clean-shaven face showing off his sharp jaw and structured face. You couldn't help but feel your pride swell in your chest- he looked so sharp and handsome.
"It's getting late, darling, the function's already started. We need to get going,"
--
Your grandparent's house- One of the oldest and the grandest in the village, stood tall and proud against the background of trees and temples. Decorated with fairy lights and bustling with people who were either relatives or friends, the house seemed to be booming with life and a wonderful festive spirit that evening.
"So many people," You could hear Marc mutter in awe... or he was trying to calm his senses that are always on high alert whenever he was in a crowded place.
Eyes turned to gaze at the two of you, the granddaughter who left for America and her foreign boyfriend, the moment you both stepped inside the gates.
"Y/n! Come inside. Oh, there he is! The main man of the night!" Your aunt's shrill and excited voice penetrated through the murmurs and excited giggles from the crowd. "As for the rest of you, please do resume enjoying the food and beverages," She said, her sweetness not wavering even in her sharp tone.
Intertwining his hands in yours, you made sure he was alright one last time before you both proceeded to make your way to your family, who didn't waste a second in gathering in front of you.
Your mom and her sister rushed from inside, holding a ceremonial brass plate with colored, ceremonial powders, betel leaves, a couple of bananas, and a flame burning bright at its edge.
"Stand closer, dears," you don't know whose hands pushed you closer to your boyfriend, making you nearly fall over him.
"So what do I do now?" Marc whispered in your ears.
"When they've stopped circling this plate in front of us, they'll extend it towards you, you hover your hands over the flame and then place your palms over your eyes. After that, you take one of the three over there," You pointed to the viboothi, sandhanam, and kungumam.
"The red powder is the kungumam, the white one is the viboothi, and the sandal liquid is sandhanam. You take any of that and place it on your forehead," You said, as Marc listened to you intently, his eyes following the plate wherever it went.
"Which one should I choose?"
You mulled over that question for a while.
"Well, I feel like Steven would go with sandhanam, you'd go with the viboothi and Jake with the kungumam,"
"Mama, who is fronting now?" Your younger sister asked him. Your heart melted as you realized that your family has already accepted him.
"I'm Marc," he smiled, extending his hands. "So nice to finally meet you in real life," Your sister took his hand and shook it warmly, all smiley.
"Welcome to India, Marc, and more importantly, welcome to our family!" Your dad patted him on the back.
Sharing glances with him, the tension in your shoulders eased as you saw Marc practically gleaming. If he had any traces of fear or nervousness in him, he was good at hiding it.
"Marc, place the kungumam on her forehead, will you?" Your aunt asked him.
Looking at you for your approval, Marc caught you furiously blushing, tugging on the ends of your saree, and paired it up with the girls around you both giggling.
He did it nevertheless, the red vermillion streak now visible above your pottu. "What does it mean?" He whispered.
"Husbands do that to their wives," You mumbled, trying to look at him without blushing harder. Turns out, that piece of information had the same kind of effect on Marc too.
Goddamit, all these traditional lovey-dovey things were making you weak and stereotypical. But hey, when are you going to have anything like this again? You decided you, along with your boyfriend, are going to have one hell of a time this Diwali with your family.
"It isn't enough to take Aarthi for just one maapla, is it!?" Your grandma pointed out, as everyone started muttering their agreements.
Marc immediately understood what happened and let Steven front. Your family watched dumbfound as they realized that the man standing in front of them was clearly not the one who was here just seconds back.
"Steven?" Your brother asked.
"Hello there, mate, nice to meet you," Steven smiled brightly, looking wide-eyed at everyone around him. Out of all three of them, Steven was the best at handling crowds.
"Paati ma," He immediately recognized your granny from the family pictures and bowed down to touch her feet, getting collective gasps and immediate approvals and cries of pride from the crowd.
Your cousins watched in awe as you stood there, smirking. Your perfect, little boyfriend, capturing everyone's hearts already. He started out by conveying his Diwali wishes, and describing how wonderful this neighborhood and this house were as everyone conversed with him with great interest.
Repeating the same procedures to him, it was finally time for your family to meet Jake. Just because he was conscious when all this happened to Marc and Steven, he knew exactly what was expected of him and he did it with so much ease.
He handed them the sweets and fruits you both bought on the way.
"Oi, Mister, remember what I told you about the kids?" You nudged him.
"Of course, how could I forget?" He chuckled and pulled out a huge bag filled with chocolates and candies, making all the little kids go into a frenzy. "Keep the kids happy to keep the adults satisfied."
After spending a considerable amount of time deciding everyone's position for the big family picture, a perfect photo, with no one closing their eyes or having an ugly smile, approved by everyone, was clicked.
Things certainly didn't get easier for the Boys once they were all inside the house. With the adults restraining themselves from asking too many questions, the kids, using their freedom to the fullest, bombarded Jake and Steven with all they got. Marc fronted only when the hyper-active ankle biters went away to eat some sweet- a simple yet powerful tactic your uncle used to give that man some space to breathe.
"Is everyone here always so nice?" Marc asked you as a random person handed him a glass full of tender coconut water.
"Every family has its own drama and downsides, Marc, so does mine. But today, everyone decided to get along with one another and push aside unnecessary disputes because bigger things are happening," You gestured at all of him.
"All of this isn't too much, is it?" You bit your lips, dreading his answer.
"I think this is starting to grow on me," A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat down beside you on the couch. "I mean, this is all so extravagant and elaborate," He looked around the room with not a single person chilling or minding their own business. "I never thought I'd enjoy this kind of buzzing environment, but here I am," He said, gulping down the rest of the water.
"Hey! Why is maapla sitting all by himself? Is this how we treat a guest in this house?" Somebody yelled from the back.
"You're literally sitting here with me," Marc stated and got a firm head shake from you.
"Unless you're surrounded by at least 4 people at a time, you'd be considered alone,"
"Alright, damn,"
"Bring him to the dining table, food's ready! We all eat after those two have!" You heard your chithi's smile in her voice.
"Everyone's so happy to have you here, Marc," You smiled at him.
He shook his head in disbelief. "I've just- I've never really had these many people around me who aren't actively trying to kill me. Neither have Jake and Steven,"
"Don't be so quick to speak, chellam. My family will kill you by stuffing you with more sweets and savories well after you tell them that you're full," You said, both of you chuckling.
The entire night, before the actual fireworks began, felt like you were in a hyper-realistic Tamil film, with all your relatives buzzing about, bringing every South Indian dish known to date to the table, intent on making Marc, Steven, Jake and you eat all of it.
Marc looked at you with pleading eyes, practically begging you to ask them to stop, not realizing that you had no power over them either. Jake, on the other hand, was intent on tasting everything on the table. You soon found out that all three of them developed a taste for Mothi Ladoos and Mysore Pak.
After that pleasurable turned painful event got over, came the time to play family games. The kids were intent on making the Boys play charades, and soon the entire family joined in. Steven was unbelievably good at it, for some reason, and his team kept scoring too many points.
Most of the adults, including Jake and Marc, were on your team but you all were still no match for Steven and his little army of kids he had raised at this point.
The prime of the night rolled by as everyone set outside, big bags full of various kinds of crackers and fireworks. The entire length of the street was engulfed by light from the crackers. Everyone was running around from their house to another, exchanging gifts, sweets, and crackers.
You soon found out that Steven's favorite was the mathaapu. He made patterns and circles with that in the air. He soon became the mathaapu supplier for everyone. He steered clear away from the bigger fireworks, anxiously tugging on his vetti, making sure it doesn't get caught on fire.
Jake, as you had guessed, handled all the scary ones along with your brother and uncles. He dragged you with him whenever he lighted up a firework, stealing a light peck or two on your cheeks and neck when everyone was too busy looking at the skies.
Marc was so glad and amused when the kids tugged on his shirt and asked him to help them light the sangu chakrams and busvaanams. He made sure all the water buckets were always full with water, and that the kids didn't get too close to anything dangerous. Immediately stole the adults' hearts.
All the relatives and neighbors took turns bothering you and your family about your boyfriend, and if your friends didn't help in cutting them off at the right times, you would've damn near lost your mind.
When all the celebrations and the seemingly never-ending hype came down, at last, giving way to a settling night with everyone packing and cleaning stuff, with few getting back to their homes, you finally got your boyfriend all to yourself.
"Finally, some calm, huh," You inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the cold night air grazing your skin. After changing from the growingly uncomfortable attire, and removing all your makeup, you felt like you were at last able to breathe properly. Every muscle in your body ached
You and Steven were on the terrace now, just a few feet away from your temporary room the adults have cleaned up in haste.
Your boyfriend's silence made you quirk up. "Hey, is everything alright? Do you need to get back to our room?"
"No, darling, it's not that," He started, trying to find the right words.
The moment you sat down beside him, he was quick to pull you into an embrace, warmer than any firework made you feel that night. Without pulling away for a few minutes, Steven snuggled his face into the crook of your neck as you played with his hair and stroked his back.
Neither of you had to speak anything- no small talks, no reminiscing the eventful and draining night, or discussing the people of the town. All of that was for later.
After double checking that there was no one around you both, you placed a kiss on top of his head and received a heavy sigh that tickled your neck in turn.
"Thank you,"
You didn't know when Marc started fronting, but that surely was him. At this point, you knew all three were very much conscious, all three of them were here.
"Thank you," He said again, as you started cradling him in your arms.
That one word conveyed more than whatever he could've said at that time.
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Translations:
Mama - Uncle/ Father-in-Law/ Older Sister's husband
Aththa - Aunt/ Mother-in-Law
Chithi - Mom's younger sister
Ada Kadvule! - Oh God!
Chellam - My dearest
Thangam - Gold, precious
Kanna - Dear
Vetti - A traditional attire usually worn by men around their waist that stops near their ankle. Official vettis are always white in color.
Saree - A traditional attire usually worm by women (that's a pain to wrap around your body)
Kungumam - Vermillion kept on people's foreheads.
Viboothi - A white-coloured ash-like powder, also kept on foreheads.
Sandhanam - Liquid Sandal, also kept on foreheads
Busvaanam - A firework that looks like a fountain or a tree
Sangu Chakram - Firework that spirals on the floor while letting off colorful sparks.
Mathaapu - A firework that you hold on to as it burns through its length.
Aarthi - A special kind of welcoming guests or your loved ones into the house.
Taglist (not my usual taglist!):
@wysteria-clad @jake-g-lockley @lil-stark @mintpurplemnm
98 notes · View notes
luke-o-lophus · 2 years
Note
ohhh another idea, im a shit dancer but i still have to go and embarrass myself by dancing to dj tillu in front of all my relatives(shitty moves and all) or at a sangeet function, so i was wonering if i can please have like maybe their reaction to their s/o, all decked up in traditional desi wear go and dance like some deranged person and they're laughing but also lovestruck because their s/o is so happy and is having fun?
thank you so so much!!
Marc will never tire of seeing you in a lehenga. You're wearing a pastel green one, the long skirt lapping at your ankles, heavy threadwork fanning out in flowers and leaves on your blouse. The skirt spins every time you turn to grin at him, and it must have some fine silver threads woven into it, because it shimmers. You raise a brow at his drunk expression, heavy kohl-lined eyes dancing in amusement. Marc would say you looked like a goddess, but he has seen goddesses. He's seen Taweret, and the avatars of many others. He can, without a doubt, bet that you look better than them all.
It's your college friend's sangeet, and it's a mixed crowd. But your friend, she's Indian. So of course, bollywood is ruling the evening. You hover at the sidelines with Marc, your arm looped around his. And he looks gorgeous in a simple black Kurta with black threadwork, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The top couple of buttons are open, his necklace glinting in the bright lights.
Some of your friends are dancing, the good dancers. You pout internally. You like dancing, but you dont think you look great doing it. You do not want to make a fool of yourself in front of everyone and Marc. If you tell him, you know he'd say you could never. So you don't tell him anything.
But he can see you twitching, shoulders dancing to the music and feet tapping to the beat. But you are not joining in. He does not want to force you, but he has to admit he wants to see you dance. In that dress? He's sure it'll be burned to his memory.
And then one of your friends do god's work. He pulls you into the small crowd of people dancing. You squeak and gawk for just a moment before you pick up the steps. Sides of lehenga held up by nimble fingers, you're laughing and twirling the skirt in tune with the beat.
Kajra re, kajra re, tere kaale kaale naina...
People scream in delight at your enthusiastic participation, and soon, there's a little circle around you, following your steps. Your whole body is playing to the music, and the expressions...Marc is positive he is blushing like a school kid.
And then you're strutting towards him, waist shaking to the beat. The beat has picked up, and you walk right up to him, bump your waist to him, making him gasp and people around giggle.
Meri aangrayi, na toote, tu aaja
Before he can make out what is happening, you have looped your dupatta around his neck and pulled him closer. A fine sheen of sweat covered your face, only adding to the ethereal shimmer to your skin.
Marc was wrong. This is the memory that would stay burned to his mind.
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imarvelatthestars · 2 years
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Searching
Notes: Some important things to keep in mind while you're reading - ibib means darling in Ancient Egyptian & priya means beloved in Sanskrit (I think?); the heart was the only organ left in the body after mummification because it was believed to hold your thoughts and feelings and would be needed in the afterlife; Mundeshwari (or Mundesvari) temple in India is the oldest Hindu temple in the country, dating from 108 CE, and was dedicated to Durga.
Pairings: Durga x Khonshu; Marc & Steven x Desi Durga!Avatar!Reader
Warnings: multiple points of view; brief reference to the reader masturbating; this is really just a drabble in disguise
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Steven dreams a lot. He's used to it by now, almost expects to wake up in the morning with a strange bruise that can only be explained by a bout of sleepwalking, and he always expects that his dreams won't make any sense. But lately, lately there's something different about them. Lately, he wakes up with a name on his tongue and visions of a woman with a third eye and too many arms to count. He thinks maybe there was even a lion once, but he's not too sure. It's all a little hazy when he tries to focus on it.
He carries on with his life. He goes to work, eats, comes home, watches telly, and puts as many precautions into place as he can to keep himself safe. And he pretends that he's just a normal man living a normal life.
॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰
"Don't tell Steven." That was the one rule you'd been given and you were keen to follow it, but at some point London stopped being a massive metropolis and started to turn into that backwater little town where everyone knows each other. This week alone, you've narrowly avoided bumping into Marc's alter three separate times. Last week, you almost ran your shopping cart into his at the store and had to duck behind the pomegranate display so he wouldn't see you, and then had to bury your face in a newspaper when he got on your bus the following day.
You don't tell Marc about it when he comes crashing into your hotel room late on a Friday night, don't tell him how you're intrigued by the awkward tenderness you see in every single thing that Steven does, especially while an invisible jackal tries to tear you to shreds. And you certainly don't let your perfectly crafted mask crack when the jackal dies with a crescent dagger in its back and a trishula in its chest and you see those impossible eyes that make your knees week. You don't say anything when Marc reaches for you, stops himself, then jumps back out your window as if nothing had ever happened. But you think about it for the next three nights every time your hand is pressed between your thighs.
॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰
Why don't libraries have shopping carts? It boggles the mind that no one until now has had to check out enough books that they need a basket to lug it all around in. Steven has half a mind to ask the librarian about it, but decides not to when he sees the way she looks at his check-out stack.
"I know I'm only s'pposed t' take out, like, 5, but I was hoping that since I'm a star student as it were, you might be able to make an exception for me? Just this once, yeah? Not like all the time." He smiles. "It's really important."
He looks over his collection once he gets back to his flat and he's not entirely sure where he's going to put them all, but he'll make do somehow. There's a spot on his desk with just enough room for some of the smaller ones, so he starts there. He pulls out his readers, a pencil with way too many chew marks, and a notebook and sets to work.
Steven learns a lot of things that night, about Kali and Mahadevi and Shakti, about Sanskrit mantras and puja, and about the mother goddess Durga, the name that strikes something deep in his heart that he cannot comprehend. It reminds him of the scent of jasmine, of a stolen trident he lost in a dream, of lion's claws and a cotton saree in the sand. He thinks maybe he's going a bit loopy from staying up too late.
॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰
"The worm is learning."
The moonlight is cool and familiar on Durga's shoulders. It ripples and spills over her hair, down the bare length of her spine, and highlights the golden edge of her saree where it brushes her ankles.
"Is that such a terrible thing?" she wonders.
Linen wrapped hands, ancient bones poking through the gaps, brush over her skin like they have a million times before. The musk of her lover is older than the pyramids and older than her temple in Mundeshwari, older than a thousand lifetimes, yet still he remains.
"Do not think of him tonight."
Khonshu grumbles and leans back against the chimney he's perched himself on. Durga follows him, sinks into the firmness of his ribcage and smiles.
"There is too much to think of." His voice rumbles through her. "Harrow is amassing followers by the thousands and Ammit awaits him, yet my avatar relinquishes his control to a fool who stumbles about as if in a dream."
"You're too harsh on him." The unspoken "you're too harsh on all of them" lingers in the air. It's the one thing she struggles with, even now, the one thing that makes her doubt the choice she made too many years ago to count. "Even a god must rest, priya, and you are no exception."
A heavy sigh rattles deep in Khonshu's bones. He's tired. She knows him too well for him to put up pretenses, so he relinquishes the last of his fight and lays it at her feet. "As you wish, ibib." He wraps an arm around her shoulders to bring her in close and finds himself falling even more in love with every whiff of sandalwood he catches.
"Undo my braid."
He bathes in the jasmine of her hair and she in his frankincense wrappings, and they let the worries of avatars and gods drift away for a night. She unfolds herself for him and he remembers to unwrap his heart for her, the only thing left inside his body after a millenia of decay.
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thembofics · 2 years
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OMG I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE ANOTHER PERSON ON THSI SITE WHO'S BLACK AND DESI (I'M BENGALI THROUGH MY MOM AND ALSO AFRO-CHEROKEE THROUGH MY DAD BTW)
Headcanons for Aladdin w/ an S/O who's an avatar of Khonshu pls? (I blame the Moon Knight x Arabian Nights tiktok edits lmao)
HELLO FELLOW AFRO-DESI, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU 🫂👑
My younger sister made me binge-watch Moon Knight last week and I gotta say, it's a pretty good show. Also, I am a FULL ON Taweret stan! 🥺🦛
Aladdin dating the Avatar of Khonshu would include...
Pairings: Aladdin x Avatar of Khonshu!Reader
Warnings: Slight angst, but at least there's fluff! I'm still bad at writing headcanons, possibly OOC Khonshu (OH MY GOD DAD!KHONSHU)
A/N: Let's pretend this is set after the film and Aladdin and Jasmine decide to remain friends, okay?
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How you met:
The first time he sees you, it's late at night.
Aladdin can't sleep and goes to grab a cup of water when he hears a commotion outside.
You're running across the rooftops in Agrabah, decked out in the ceremonial suit from Khonshu's temple not psycho Colonel Sanders and Aladdin is MESMERIZED.
So, he makes it a habit of staying up very a little late every night to get a glimpse of you.
Khonshu catches on to this and warns you to be more careful. When you ask him why, Khonshu's only response is: "Someone is watching."
On the seventh night, Aladdin can't seem to find you. He's sad...
...For a few seconds, until Abu freaks out and warns his human of an intruder, pointing to you just chilling on the couch (Aladdin and Abu can't see him... yet, but Khonshu is just standing there looking at you with disappointment)
In time, you two get to know each other and eventually fall in love.
Hell, y'all even learn about each other's cultures.
It takes Khonshu a while, but when he finally reveals himself to Aladdin, this is the street rat's reaction:
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"Why are you so scared?" "THAT IS KHONSHU."
How it's going:
Y'all are too cute together
Aladdin calls you "Hayati" (Arabic for "my life"), and you call him "Habibi" (Arabic for "my love")
You stay up with him at night to look at the stars and he can't help but notice how beautiful you are. Khonshu yells at the both of you to go to bed after a few minutes.
MAGIC CARPET RIDE DATES 💓💓💓💓💓
Khonshu is pretty much your overprotective dad, while Genie is your chill father-in-law.
Genie and Khonshu are the grumpy/sunshine in-law duo no one expected... oh and Jasmine and Dalia are Aladdin's wingmen 😜😜
Lian and Omar (Genie and Dalia's kids/Aladdin's younger siblings) are in awe of you and ask so many questions.
"What's it like being an avatar of a scary bird god?"
"Exhausting" you half-joke, to Khonshu's dismay.
If Genie asks about grandbabies, Aladdin will blush.
Pretty sure Taweret would ADORE Aladdin and Abu!
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Text
Author's Note- My first one shot related to a song. Though it's a Hindi song, I loved writing for it. Hope you all like it.
Thank you and Enjoy your reading!
Broken yet Beautiful Doll
Tom Hiddleston x Desi!Reader
Summary- (Y/N)'s moments spend with her knight in shining armor in the light of moon...
Tag List- @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @lastwandastan, @eudximoniakr, @saraelizabeth26, @girlnred, @hc-geralt-23, @omgsuperstarg, @strangesthirdeye, @clea-strange-is-the-way, @lana, @kenzi-woycehoski, @nyx2021, @all-things-fandomstuck, @newt-scamander-is-hot-af, @moon-light1415, @candypurplebutterfly
Warnings- A bit steamy. Nothing else though
GIF Credits to @your-eyes-were-full-of-regret
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To be an actress in an industry such as Hollywood was a difficult job from the very start and having a conservative parents only added to the difficulty levels. And the addition of media and paparazzi in this deal is just... tiring.
God blessed (Y/N) with Tom to keep her sanity safe from all the insane things in her life. He was the moon to her dark night sky; the sun to her clear blue skies. Her knight in shining armor.
With (Y/N) wrapping up Game of Thrones, the media was going absolutely crazy. Adding to that was HBO's official post announcing the much awaited nude scene featuring the actress with her on-screen love interest, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau.
The announcement of her nude scene had not only created chaos in the media, but also in (Y/N)'s family. Her mother had given her an almost threatening lecture, while her father talked of how it would effect (Y/N)'s chances of finding a perfect husband; only that they weren't aware of Tom's presence in her life.
The famous actress sat down on the sofa with a sigh, her eyes locked on the screen of her mobile. Tears welling up in her (E/C) eyes as she recalled her mother's words and her father's disapproving tone.
"Is everything alright, (Y/N)?" The soothing voice of Tom vibrated in her ears as his smell intoxicated her senses, his hands wrapping around her waist. "Usual melodrama of maa," she sighed, snuggling into his chest.
"She only cares about you, darling," Tom said, his fingers running through her (H/C) hair, making her purr like their black cat, whom (Y/N) named Loki. "Threatening me with 'Tum ghar aana phir dikhati hu' is so much lovely," (You come home, then I will show you) (Y/N) said sarcastically.
Tom chuckled lightly, kissing her hairline. "It's almost midnight," he stated casually, making (Y/N) hum.
Bikharney Ka Mujhko
Shauq Hai Bada
Sameitega Mujko
Tu Bata Zara
Tom looked down at the lady in his arms. The (H/C) hair of his beloved shone in the moonlight, glistening as if a gemstone. Her eyes closed, while a bit of kohl beneath her eyes laid smudged from rubbing her eyes constantly. In short, (Y/N) looked a mess instead of the gorgeous lady in front of the red carpets.
"You look a mess. Or may I dare say, like a broken yet beautiful doll," Tom noted with a teasing smile. (Y/N) laughed, sitting in between his legs. "I love to look like a mess, or as you beautifully placed it, 'a broken yet beautiful doll'. The question is: will you be there to collect me?"
Tom smiled, glancing at the ceiling-to-floor window. "Of course, darling," Tom smiled, making the young actress smile widely. "
Dekh Ke Tujhey Hi Raat Ki Hawa Ne
Saans Thaam Li Hai Haath Ke Tarah Haaye
Ki Aankhon Mein Teri Raat Ki Nadi
Tom picked (Y/N) up in bridal style, taking her out to the huge balcony attached to their shared bedroom. The soft breeze caressed their skins, bringing a unique warmth to them.
Tom's breath hitched silently as he looked upon the lady beside him. All soft and vulnerable before his ocean eyes. London's lights illuminating the perfections and imperfections on her face.
Tom could see the sight of entire London in her (E/C) eyes. Lights dancing in her eyes like ballerinas performing a ballet. The sweet dance with precise timings and smooth dance moves.
Ho Kho Rahe Hain Dono Ek Doosre Mein
Jaise Sardiyon Ki Sham Mein Dhuan
(Y/N) and Tom's eyes met at the same moment. The entire world drifting away, leaving the couple along with the beauty of the entire world. The night breeze singing songs of love as the two stepped closer.
"What else did they say?" Tom whispered, his lips too close to hers. "Papa said that I won't find any good husband," she whispered back, gazing deeply into his blue, deep eyes. Tom smirked, his hands strongly holding her waist.
"Perhaps, I should meet him." They were too close to deem appropriate, almost taking in the same air. Their lips met in a combination of passion and lust. Hands threading through each other's hairs, tugging on them.
Hands went through the thin, dark shirt (Y/N) wore, tracing patterns on her skin as they moved up, leaving behind goosebumps and sending pleasures right to her core.
Lips and tongues clashed in a battle of who know what. As for dominance, it seemed like (Y/N) abandoned the dominance for the night, letting Tom take control over her for tonight.
Never before had they been so close, always stopping after a kiss or two on necks and behind ears. But tonight, the passion was too much, too consuming for both to stop.
Tom pressed (Y/N) against the wall. A gasp breaking through her throat at the contact of the cold wall on her warm, too hot, skin. Tom kissed her neck, creating a purple bruise after another.
The two conjoined there as if the smoke in the winter night. Breathing together and riding the waves of pleasure with each other.
Tom pulled away to look at the masterpiece he created on the canvas his lady love's body was. Hair disheveled, lips swollen, eyes wide with darkness of pleasure clouding them; all along with the black-purple bruises littered over her neck and collarbone.
The rest of the night was spent in the warmth of embraces and waves of pleasure mixed with pain. Sweet words and comforting promises whispered into the ears. A beautiful future ensured.
Perhaps the nature always paired two different beings together. One who likes to break and the other who wishes to collect. A person who can praise and one who can receive it and stay humble.
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jake-g-lockley · 1 year
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Tale of the Crescent Moon | Jake Lockley x desi!oc
Series Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be Tagged?
Chapter 1: Celestial 
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Summary: In which Ganga meets a mysteriously familiar cab driver 
Warnings: A little bit of self-loathing Jake
Word Count: 1.1 k
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
If one were to take a look at the clear night sky, there are several things that one could see. It may be the stars, the deep universe beyond or even a little comet.
But when Ganga had looked up at the clear night sky, her eyes always searched for one thing. She had always garnered a fascination for the moon. The way it graced the night sky, the way she looked up at it whenever she felt sad, to feel its powerful rays enveloping her in a safety she always craved. There have been hundreds and thousands of tales forged about the dazzling delight that adorned the night and sometimes, morning sky, eclipsing its creation in shrouded mysteriousness. However, Ganga’s favourite tale was about the mysterious cab driver who had unintentionally fallen into her life on one special day.
It all started on a quiet Sunday morning. The birds were waking up to the light breeze that surrounded the morning atmosphere and she woke up feeling absolutely rejuvenated. Ganga had just had a great week and everything had just fallen right into place for her. Her bus was on time every single day, the barista got her coffee order correct every single morning, she was one step closer to getting a promotion, plus, herboss had announced bonuses for all staff. Stress had felt like a thing of the past and her body and mind were so grateful for the peace. 
Ganga started her morning routine with a little bit of yoga and a relaxing bath. She had decided that she would reap the benefits of going to the temple. Draping her favourite forest green and off white saree around her, Ganga pleated the soft fabric, pinning it onto place with a safety pin. She lightly did her makeup, adding minimalistic jewellery and an emerald pottu that complimented the saree. She twisted her curly hair into a messy bun and wrapped some jasmine flowers around it, pulling a few tendrils put to frame her face. 
The cab that she had called honked impatiently outside her home. She was in such a good mood that she decidedly ignored the impatient honk from the driver as she grabbed her purse and umbrella. Slipping on her sandals, Ganga locked the door behind her and set off down the stairs. 
Undisclosed to Ganga, Jake Lockley was staring with his jaw slacked open at her figure as she descended the staircase. He was absolutely enraptured by her aura and beauty, so much so that he almost gave one of his alters control of the body. He watched as her sandal clad feet graced the stairs as if she were walking on air and the soft fabric of her saree rustled around her flawlessly. His eyes almost couldn’t believe the way that her face was being illuminated by the morning sun. It must have been a trick of the light, he thought, as the glow seemed to come from within Ganga. Steven and Marc were speaking but for the first time in a very long time he couldn’t concentrate on what they were trying to tell him. Jake was glued to his seat and he couldn’t move. 
She opened the door and slipped inside the cab. Instantly, Jake was instantly hit with the tantalizing fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood and the heavenly sound of her bangles tinkling together. His gloved hands tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he tried hard to bury his emotions deep within himself. He made the grave mistake of taking in a deep breath, his lungs filled with the venom that is Ganga’s fragrance, drawing him deeper into the rabbit hole that is his feelings.
Her sweet voice drew him out of his mental torment. It was sweet and comforting, enveloping his heart like a safety blanket and glazing his brain like honey. Automatically, he felt his body turn like a puppet and he found himself staring into Ganga’s deep brown eyes. The second both of their eyes met, Ganga couldn’t help but wonder how familiar the man before her looked. She blinked and gave him a perplexed smile, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It was almost like he was part of a far distant memory, almost like a memory that her soul had kept from her for a long time. 
“I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.” Ganga breathed, breaking eye contact and shifting, arranging her saree around her.
“Not at all.” Jake tried to sound like his normal self but even Khonshu was surprised at how small his voice sounded.
Jake peeled his eyes from her and hastily turned to the front. Despite trying hard to keep his eyes on the road, Jake felt his willpower slipping and would steal glances of her through his rear view mirror. As her eyes searched the outside, Ganga’s mind wandered to the man who was driving the cab. 
Ganga had always wondered what love would do to her. Would it put her in a chokehold and make her feel restricted or would it make her feel free like a dove out in the wild? Will she ever find someone who would make her feel like she was the only woman on this planet? Did soulmates even exist?
All these questions and no one to answer them for her. 
Sooner or later, the innate ivory gopuram of the temple came into view and Jake suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of desperation. For some reason, his heart refused to let her go and for the first time in his life, he felt a yearning like no other. He gripped the steering wheel and tipped his head, making sure that his hat hid his face and devoid him of any form of emotion. 
Jake gazed at the tiny crescent moon that hung from his rear view mirror. A crescent moon, that's what he was. Jake had been having a difficult time getting a grip on how he came to be, and he felt the need to be forged as a weapon of mass destruction instead of a human. He knew he had been carved into the person that was needed to be Khonshu’s fist and to protect Marc. 
Made for battle and not for love. 
“I’ll see you then! Thanks for the ride.” Ganga said, holding out a note for him to take. 
Jake turned and stared at her with big brown eyes that had the same comfort as Mother Earth. There it was again, the sense of familiarity that she couldn’t shake. 
“No, señorita, you don’t have to pay. A treat for my previous impatience.”  Jake said, shooting her a small smile.
“No I in-” Ganga started but Jake raised his eyebrows.
That seemed to do the trick. Her mind seemed to bend obediently towards his facial expression. 
“Thank you. I hope you have an amazing day.” Ganga said, smiling shyly at the beautiful cab driver. 
“You too, señorita.” 
How curious…
Translations:
Saree: A sari is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent, that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a shawl
Pottu: A bindi or pottu is a coloured dot or, in modern times, a sticker worn on the center of the forehead
Gopuram: A gopuram or gopura is a monumental entrance tower, usually ornate, at the entrance of a Hindu temple
Señorita: Miss or Ms
Taglist: @pakhiya @mintpurplemnm @romanarose @soft-persephone @copingchaos @swiggy-needs-mental-help @brekkers-desigirl @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @celiaswife @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @gloriouspurpose01
Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~
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jake-g-lockley · 2 years
Text
The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 2: Demeanor
Warnings: Innuendos? Swearing, Khonshu (yes be warned about bloodthirsty big bird), Jake being Jake ig, mentions of DID
Word Count: 2.9k
Taglist: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
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Your POV It’s been four months since you met the ball of absolute sunshine, aka, Steven Grant. Every day you literally sprint out of bed to get ready just to see his wonderful smile that would guarantee to brighten your day.
He would constantly argue with Donna about everything and he always would insist on finishing up when you looked too tired to complete the tasks when it got late. All worries would dissolve instantly when you’re with Steven but you’ve begun to notice some things that just don’t line up.
He always had a cup of coffee with him and dark circles under his big brown eyes. He's told you that he has a sleeping disorder but that didn’t explain the sudden changes in his demeanor. Sometimes, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes and his jaw would tense when he would do inventory alone. Other times he’d have a dark, almost menacing glare in his eyes when he worked at the cashier, silently tilling up items that were bought at the gift shop.
But when he was with you? He was himself. He would go on and on about Egypt and not a single day has he made you feel bored about the way he speaks about it. He is a great listener too and would always reciprocate back whenever you asked for his opinion on something. You can’t explain it but he seems to act differently when he’s not in close proximity with you.
Steven was your only friend. Donna is absolutely vile and JB only loves otters and his mum, and he didn’t really vibe with you the same way Steven did. Most of your days were spent at work and then coming back late to your empty flat, so going out wasn’t really the option. Besides, you don’t need anyone else, you did really enjoy Steven’s company. But you could tell that there is something that Steven is hiding from you and you were too shy to press on about it.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Moon Boys’ POV
Steven Grant was having a mental turmoil in his head.
It is literally way too difficult to concentrate when you have a giant bird god staring at his girl and two fully grown men nagging in his head. Ever since he found out about Marc Spector, Jake Lockley and Khonshu, everything seemed to fall into place. But constantly having three voices bombarding his head can sometimes send him into overdrive.
He flipped his wrist upwards to check the time. 11:30 pm. It was getting late and Y/N looked really tired but they were still not done with the restock. Donna wanted everything done by the morning, but at this rate, they were never going to finish.
He had been nursing his crush on Y/N for months now and a few weeks ago, Marc joined in on the torture. Jake on the other hand refuses to admit his feelings for Y/N and would tease Steven and Marc, calling them simps and then quietly retreating into his part of the headspace.
For weeks now, they had found out about Y/N’s birthday and it would be tomorrow, the 15th of October. She asked for the day off but didn’t give a solid reason and Steven felt a pang of guilt knowing that he had looked through her file to find it out when her birthday was (well it was Marc’s idea).
He had a little gift hidden in his bag which they picked for Y/N a few days ago when they had to go to India for a lil Moon Knighting, courtesy of Khonshu. He had been meaning to give it to her since this morning and had been stalling because he did not know how she would react.
Y/N was arranging Taweret plushies into her little basket and was careful not to squish Taweret’s crown. He smiled thinking back to the time he met Taweret and how amazing she was to them. Steven was so deep in the memory that he didn’t realize that he was smiling to himself and staring blankly at her until he heard her voice.
“Steven?” She questioned.
“Yes, love, I mean yes Y/N?” He stuttered, looking back up at her with a tired smile.
Her eyebrows raised slightly at the term of endearment but she brushed it off.
“Could you get me that last plushie up on that shelf?” She smiled sweetly, but from the tone of her voice, he could tell something bad was going to happen.
He got up and shuffled towards her, hesitating slightly and then reaching up to grab the last hippo when suddenly, he squealed and doubled over. She started to tickle him, her hands digging into his side, laughter bubbled out of her like she was a tap.
“MAKE HER STOP STEVEN PLEASE!!” Steven could hear Marc begging at the back of his head as his own laughter took over him and he tried to grab her arms to stop her, but failed.
Steven was horribly ticklish and tears were running down his face as he struggled to catch her and finally, with the last of his strength, he grabbed her hands and tugged them away from his side.
Her eyes widened and she changed her tactic, knowing what was going to happen next. She dropped to the floor and curled up into a ball, back facing the wall before realizing that she was actually trapped, the look of horror evident in her cute face, eyebrows furrowed. Steven smirked and it faltered as he felt Marc take control of the body. Marc tilted his head and deeped the smirk, looking down at Y/N and dropped to his knees, caging her and leaning towards her ear.
“Play nice now, sweetheart.” He whispered, hoping she wouldn’t notice the accent change.
Before she could react, he started to tickle her as she gasped and laughed underneath him, hair spread all over the floor of the storage unit, looking strangely angelic.
“Stop, oh fuck, Steven please.” She begged, tears at the corners of her eyes.
“Apologize.” Marc whispered again in her ear.
She shook her head, not wanting to cave in. Marc tickled harder with one hand, the other grabbing her hands and pinning them over her head.
“ALRIGHT, I’M SORRY, I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!” She squealed trying to get away from Marc.
“Well, that was easy wasn’t it, good girl.” Marc said and stopped tickling her and let her hands go. She instantly moved her hands on his chest as she took deep breaths, chest heaving, eyes wide, kohl smudging slightly from the tears, hair tousled.
“Fuck.” Jake and Steven said in unison as all three of them admired the person that was beneath them.
“Ay, las cosas que le haría a esta mujer…” Jake growled.
“I thought you said you didn’t like her mate!” Steven accused, appalled at what his alter just had said.
“I don’t.” Jake insisted, the smirk evident in his voice.
Marc knew what they were thinking about, or at least what Jake was thinking about, the dirty bastard, but he couldn’t help but to think the same.
She looked so ravishing under his body and he tensed slightly, feeling her hands push against his own heaving chest. All the words in the world couldn’t describe her. The way she walked, talked and carried herself was the most amazing thing all three of them had ever seen.
She moved like an Egyptian lotus, graceful, tall and swayed in a way that only a dancer could. She talked about dancing, once, when Steven had asked her about why her hands and feet were stained red and she explained to him that it was for her art but then she got a little glassy eyed and kept the rest of the information to herself.
He continued to peer down at her, trying to absorb all of her, not wanting the moment to pass. Her big dangling Indian-style earrings (She said they were called jimikkis), her nose ring, the small black dot between her eyebrows, and her gorgeous warm-toned skin, now flushed as she tried to suck oxygen back into her lungs through her mouth, lips parting slightly.
Marc remembers the exact second he fell in love with her. He knew he was Steven’s girl but he couldn't exactly help himself. It was the way she spoke to Steven in a non-condescending way, the way she would look at them, the way she laughed and the way she panicked.
He loved every second when he could feel her presence beside him. But he was scared. For the first time in his life, he was absolutely terrified.
Being Khonshu’s fist of vengeance had its repercussions and he never wanted someone so pure and angelic to be polluted by his past and current actions. He would rather die than let her know the horrible things that he had done.
It took him a while to admit it and it was to a point where he was hyperventilating at home, on his knees and yelling at Khonshu who had been calling him soft. Grunge big bird was so flabbergasted by Marc’s outburst that he literally was lost for words.
That was until the moon god snapped.
“Marc, what am I supposed to do about this ghastly worm that you like? Do you want me to crush her with my staff? Send a meteor directly at her? Wipe her off the face of this planet-” Khonshu hollered only to be cut off by Marc again.
“hOW dare you say that about my angel, you pathetic, petty god, you can barely do anything by yourself without me anyway, we all saw how Ammit threw you around like a sack of bones. She is my everything and I will never let you lay a single one of those disgusting mummy-wrapped fingers on- Oh, wait, you were being sarcastic, weren't you?” Marc stopped mid-rant and blinked up at the unsettled god who facepalmed and shook his big skeletal head as Steven and Jake laughed loudly in his head.
“You guys need to sort this amongst yourselves.” The god had said.
He breathed her in, taking in her sandalwood and jasmine scent and he almost closed his eyes and wanted to go limp when suddenly, she gripped his shirt collar and tugged him closer to her causing him to lose all sense of time.
“I will get you back one day, Mr. Grant.” she whispered into his ear, her breath against his face soothing over any pain that was in him, sending him to high heaven, making him lose control of the body and leaving Steven slightly perplexed with the sudden change.
“We’ll see about that.” Steven said after gaining composure, slowly getting up and pulling her up with him. She giggled and turned away. That giggle always made him feel woozy. Steven turned around, hiding his blush from the close proximity that they were just in.
“Humans are weird.” Khonshu sighed, shaking his head.
Steven knew that she had an effect on all of them. For months now, she had been the one source of happiness that they would look forward to everyday. Being the avatar of an Egyptian moon god was probably the scariest thing Steven has done in his whole life but now he sensed some form of security with the single consistent thing in his life, her.
He liked everything about her, but he mostly loved how she was herself around him, how she would listen to his ramblings, how she would twirl her hair when she was in deep thought and most importantly, how she drove the two (probably three) of them up and over the proverbial wall.
“Umm, Steven? What are you going to be doing tomorrow?” Y/N’s question silenced all the voices around him instantly.
“Uhm, nothing much, I mean, I think I would be at home with Gus and my books, just the usual. Why?” Steven quickly said, glancing at Khonshu.
That was a plain lie, Khonshu needed them to do some recon work tomorrow for a new mission but surprisingly, he didn’t object to what Steven had just said, instead he nodded approvingly at Steven.
Y/N hesitated and then sighed, “Well nothing much, just wanted to know whether you’d like to hang out at my place tomorrow.”
“Damn Steven, this woman has more balls than you do. She went straight to the point without beating around the bush.” Khonshu chuckled. Steven blushed and quickly nodded his head, thanking all the other gods for Khonshu’s good mood and his lucky stars. She smiled, her nose scrunching slightly. Steven heard Marc audible sigh in the headspace, clearly head over heels over this stunning woman.
“I found her first, you better step back, Marc.” Steven muttered under his breath.
“Huh”
“Nothing, darling.” Steven quickly replied and winced slightly.
A small smile twitched on Y/N’s face and she sighed and stretched, her sweater slightly rising to reveal her tummy. Steven could feel his heart quicken and he looked away.
“It's getting late, Steven. I can’t do this anymore. Donna can fuck off. I’m tired” she pouted and turned to look at him with sad eyes. Steven could swear that he was going to melt into a puddle of mush. She’s right, Donna can fuck off, this was work that could be settled by the morning shift. He instantly reached into his pocket and grabbed Jake’s keys and jingled it in front of her.
“We can leave now if you want, I’ll send you home?” She nods happily and packs her things as Steven excuses himself to go to the washrooms. There, Jake appeared in the mirror.
“Hermano, give me the body, I want to drive.” Jake said pointedly. Steven sighed and realized there was no point in arguing with Jake, especially when he was tired. Y/N still was not aware of their condition, as far as Steven was concerned. They just never had that conversation with her as Marc is still sensitive about talking about it.
“Just don’t act all serious when you're driving her home, yea?” Steven asked after Jake took over the body. Jake just hummed in response. ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Your POV There it was again. The change in demeanor. It's like he was a completely different person when he walked out of the staff washrooms, cold, more authoritative, and had that dark glint in his eyes.
Oh, and he didn’t speak a single word to you or even actually acknowledged you. In the car, you quickly buckled up and slipped your sandals off, tucking your legs under you and you sighed into the plush seats.
You turned and let your eyes roam the left side of Steven’s face and body, studying every inch of it as if he were one of your History textbooks. His hands gripped the steering wheel in front of him, a small scar visible on his left knuckle in the dim lighting. Despite looking quite timid, Steven was actually quite strong, you have seen him lift boxes with ease and again you wonder what else he might be hiding.
You look outside and see the waning crescent moon shining down on the city of London. You’ve always loved the moon, especially on special days like this when it beamed so strongly that it glowed. You smile up at it, feeling its embrace and protection.
Now that you’ve thought of it, the moon seemed closer to you ever since you met Steven. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but it always warms your heart when you see it in the dark sky. You turn your attention back to more pressing matters, like the god-like man sitting beside you.
You don’t know why you impulsively asked Steven to come to your flat tomorrow. Maybe it was because you just enjoyed his company. Maybe just because you didn’t want to be alone tomorrow. Birthdays can be hard without people around you and it always just makes you feel worse than before. Asking Steven took way too much courage and energy out of you than you thought and your mind wandered back to what had happened a few minutes ago.
You think back to when his whole body was crushing yours, how you could smell his cologne and feel his soft curls tickling your face as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. You felt dizzy each time you thought about it, how low his voice was, how raw it sounded, how he called you sweetheart. The pressure of his rough hand as he pinned you down by your wrists. You thought about how it would feel to run your hands in his curls and-
“Take a picture, rosa, it’ll last longer.” He finally spoke. You gasped, since when did Steven have a Brooklyn accent, and since when was it so deep and SENSUAL?! Either that or you’re just too tired that your brain is making things up.
You suddenly had a feeling that the man beside you was not Steven. Your thoughts were interrupted as Steven pulled up at your flat’s lobby entrance. Shaking your head, you gather your things up and got out of the car.
“Thanks again Steven, you’re the best. See you tomorrow, 9 am?” your voice slurred slightly with the edge of sleepiness. Steven nodded and gave you a small smile and you turned to walk away.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Moon Boys’ POV Jake’s heart skipped with the sound of her feet pattering the concrete floor and shook his head and scowled. He was becoming too soft.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations: - Kohl (Yes, Marc says kohl not kajal because he knows Arabic): Ancient eye cosmetic, worn around the eyes - Ay, las cosas que le haría a esta mujer: Oh, the things I would do to this woman - Jimikkis: Jhumka or Jimikkis are a style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent. - Hermano: Brother - Rosa: Rose
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*
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jake-g-lockley · 2 years
Text
The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 10: Turmeric Face Masks
Masterlist
Warnings: A bit too much fluff, a lot of ‘ILY’, non-sexual nudity, aftercare, bathing together, some suggestive elements, swearing. Word Count: 2.5 k words
Taglist: @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart @sodonuthideout @local-mr-frog @swiggy-needs-mental-help @pakhiya @mintpurplemnm @soumya-13 @violet-19999 @hot-mess-express1
Chapter 9 | Chapter 11
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A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty chapter, idk what happened AHHAHA
What are some ways that people can confess their love for someone? Maybe over dinner with some nice wine and food, maybe with some flowers and chocolate, maybe even with a tiny puppy.
You never knew how you were going to do it. It was clear you loved them, you loved them so much that your heart ached when you were away from them. You didn’t expect that your confession of love would literally be fucked senselessly out of you. 
“I love you, I love all three of you.”
You were still gasping for air and your grip on the bed sheet below you was so tight that you thought you literally could not unfist your hands. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest that you literally thought you were going into cardiac arrest. 
You felt Jake’s hand caressing your cheek as you tried to see past the blinding white light that obscure your vision. You feel yourself smile, a dopey lopsided smile that definitely made you look like a crazed individual. 
“Y/N? ¿Rosa?” you could hear Jake's voice and his face materialized in your vision. 
“You’re so beautiful, my angel. Such a pretty boy.” You whisper through your sore throat, reaching up to touch his face as he stares down at you. He opens his mouth to say something but you press your finger to his lips.
“My prettiest boys. Heh, my boys. A bit weird that I have three but here we are. I’m so obsessed with the three of you. So perfect.” you mutter as Jake silently smiles. 
You wrap your arms around Jake’s neck, bringing him down towards you, kissing him softly. 
“I love you, Jake.”
“I love you too, Y/N.” He whispers, pulling slightly away and pressing his forehead onto your forehead. “Come, let's get you cleaned up.” 
He kisses your cheek softly and slowly slides out of your bed, hooking an arm under your legs and another behind you, lifting you up with ease.
Your eyes widen as you feel the mixed bodily fluids gush out of you, making you shift uncomfortably in Jake’s arms. Jake smirks down at you, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the toilet, turning on the running water to the bathtub. He grabs a small towel, wetting it and starts wiping you clean, making your face heat up. 
“Nuh, uh, don't get all shy now, we all know that you're far from innocent.” Jake says when he meets your eyes, making you snort with laughter as you tossed your hair into a bun.
After chucking in a bath bomb into the tub, he picks you up again and lowers you into the water, climbing in behind you. You lean your back onto his chest and let the water soothe your sore legs. 
“Hi, baby.” you feel Marc snaking his arms around your torso and kissing your exposed neck, trailing kisses down to your shoulder. 
“Hi, chellam.” you say, reaching up to touch his cheek and he kisses your palm, pulling you close. 
“I love you too, you know?” he says, unhooking his arms and reaching to the right to grab the bottle of your sandalwood body wash. 
“I know, I love you Marc.” You sigh as Marc starts lathering the soap all over your body, slowly kneading your shoulders and neck, making you literally melt against his touch. The both of you sat in happy silence as Marc grabbed a small towel and started rubbing your skin in soft pleasant circles.  
When he was done and the bath water started to become cold, he got out and dried himself, wrapping a soft fluffy towel around his waist as you stared up at his physique, leaning against the cold bathtub, smirking. 
He raised his eyebrows and mirrored your smirked as he held out his hand for you.
“Can you stand, baby?” He asks softly.
“Mhmm, I got dancer legs.” you say kicking your leg up to show him and his smirk falters.
“Don’t try to tempt me again, little devil.” Marc glares at you and you laugh, taking his hand, letting him pull you up and wrap you in a big towel. 
You tucked the towel tightly around you and looked up at Steven, who had fronted, cupping his face with your hand and kissing the tip of his nose as his eye fluttered close. 
“I love you, Steven.” you affirmed one last time, caressing his cheek. 
“I will never get bored of you saying that, I love you too, Y/N.” he sighs and opens his eyes. 
You dropped the damp towel into a basket and padded to the wardrobe to pull on some panties and a sweater, while Steven pulled his boxers on and slipped back into bed. You curled up beside him, and laid your head on his chest, slowly feeling sleep outweigh the urge to stay awake with your boyfriend forever. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“That's what I’m trying to say, even though it gets everywhere, the oil really helps with strengthening hair.”
You and Steven are now at a bookstore to get a few books. The huge bookstore made you feel slightly overwhelmed so you clung to Steven’s hand while excitedly looking through shelves to find the books that were recommended by a blogger that you followed. You had picked up a book about ayurvedic treatments and Steven was intently listening to you talk about the stuff that your Acchi made you do. 
The light from the high windows of the bookstore was lightly brushing the high points of Steven’s face and you found yourself staring and smiling up at him. His eyebrows arched upwards and he gave you a dopey grin, rounding his doe eyes. 
You brought your hand up and lightly pushed the curls that flopped on his forehead. Your mouth drops back to a frown as you swipe under his eyes, where dark circles bloomed due to the boys’ collective lack of sleep. 
“Donna and Khonshu are overworking the three of you.” you sigh, patting his cheek. “I still can’t pinpoint who’s worse.”
“Well, what can I say darling, mans gotta eat, innit?” he simply says, holding your hand to his cheek, turning to kiss your palm. “But, eh, Donna’s definitely much worse.”
For the past few days, the boys and you have been working overtime and even then, Steven had insisted on taking you out on a date today. 
“How does the bird even pay you guys?” You say narrowing your eyes. 
“Love, he is a god. Money is superficial to him. Besides, we are really used to this, I’ve had worse weeks.” and to your horror, Steven laughs and shrugs it off like it was any other thing. 
For a bunch of dudes who always worried about you, they certainly did not make any time for themselves and it was finally showing on their faces. Steven looked positively exhausted and seriously needed some TLC, no matter how casual and beautiful his smile was. 
“Nope, I’m not having this. Let's go home. It's my turn to take care of my boys.” You say, dragging a protesting Steven out of the bookstore. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Take your shirt off and sit down on the bed.” you instructed Steven, who raised his eyebrows suspiciously at you but started to strip. Marc and Jake had given up and retracted into the headspace to get some rest, giving Steven full control.
He watched as you grabbed some yogurt and turmeric, mixing them in a little bowl with a small makeup spatula. You placed the bowl with the mask on a tray along with coconut oil, cucumbers and a cloth in a bowl of water. 
“You made me a salad, love?” Steven says, confused as you swatted playfully at his chest.
“This is what my Acchi used to call ‘The Ultimate Indian Spa.’ She used to do this to me after a long week of teaching me dance.” you say, setting the tray down beside him, crawling up onto the bed behind Steven. 
“Lie down.”  you say, patting your thighs. Steven obliged and settled his head onto your thighs, staring up at you with a small smile on his face. You immediately got to work, pinning Steven’s curls back with your bobby pins and then scooping a little bit of the mask with your fingers, delicately smearing the paste onto his face and neck. 
“Tell me a story of one of your adventures, raja.” you ask softly as you place the cucumber slices onto his closed eyelids after wiping your fingers.
“Well, umm, alright, let me tell you about the time Marc and I met Taweret.” Steven says as you dip your fingers into the coconut oil, smoothly gliding it onto the skin of his bicep and start massaging the tense muscles. 
You listen in pure shock for a good fifteen minutes as Steven describes how they died and went to the afterlife, meeting the goddess of women and children and how they got out of there after Marc unfroze Steven from the Duat. 
“Hold on a second, let me backtrack a little bit. You guys were dead?” You ask, not concealing your surprise as you move to the other bicep.
“Mhmm.” Steven says, grinning. 
“That's weirdly impressive, but also very traumatic. Where was Jake in all of this?” you say, shaking your head and bending over Steven to grab the little wet towel to wipe the mask off his face. 
“Uh, we kinda left him in a sarcophagus. Well to be fair though, we didn’t know he was the one in there.” Steven said and you laugh, still thoroughly confused. 
Removing the cucumber slices, you wipe the mask with slow swipes off his face and neck until it was clear and the towel was stained yellow. Steven kept his eyes closed and he looked so blissful in your lap. 
You lightly kissed his eyelids and they fluttered open, revealing his deep brown eyes that you would never get bored of, making you smile. Steven grabbed your hand and guided it onto his chest, where two scars sat directly in the middle of his sternum.  
“That's where Harrow shot us.” He whispered as you traced the lightened scars, biting your bottom lip and wondering what would have been the case if Marc had chosen to stay in the Field of Reeds. You say a silent prayer to Taweret and Osiris, thanking them, pressing a soft kiss onto the scars. 
“I’m so glad that you guys are alive.” You whisper and smile at Steven, pulling him to a sitting position. 
“Can I oil your hair?” Steven nods and you grab the little oil vessel and pour a little oil onto the top of his head, quickly rubbing it in with the palm of your free hand. Setting the vessel aside, you rub your palms together and start massaging the oil into his scalp.
Steven sighs and his shoulders droop. You deepen the pressure and run your fingers through his curls, making sure that the oil is spread evenly, moving your fingers to his temples and rubbing them in slow circles. 
“Shit, darling, what sorcery is this?” Steven groans and you giggle, moving your hand to the nape of his neck.
You move your hands up and down the back of his neck, pressing slowly at the tense areas. You must have hit a particularly sensitive area because Steven tips his head and lets out a moan that tugged at your guts, making your eyes widen.
“Oops, sorry.” Steven bashfully says, “Your hands are magic, I swear, love.” 
You smirked and repeated the same process a few more times, until you were sure that Steven had turned into a ball of goo under your fingertips. 
“Now I think you’re just doing it on purpose.” He groans at the end of it. 
“Okay, I’m done. I need you to go and shower, kanna.” You say, pushing Steven off the bed slowly. “I’ll get some dinner ready for you.”
By the time Steven came out of the shower, you had made two thosai with the batter you had from the morning and served it up with some coconut chutney. 
“Hola, rosa.” Jake whispered into your ear, hugging you from behind
“Oh, hi baby, what happened to Steven?” you ask as you grab his hand, leading him back to the bed, one hand balancing the plate.
“He was really sleepy after the way you assaulted our muscles. So, I’m here. Unless you don’t want me here then-” 
“Don’t be fucking stupid Lockley, sit your ass down, of course I want you here.” You sternly say. “And I didn’t assault your muscles.” 
“Whatever you say, mami.” Jake raises his hands in surrender and sits cross legged on the bed, holding his hands out for the plate.
“Nope, I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” You say as you sit in front of him. 
You tear the thosai with one hand, dipping it in the coconut chutney and holding the morsel in front of his mouth between your index finger and thumb. 
“I can feed myself.” Jake frowns.
“I know you can, that's why I’m feeding you, because I can too.” you wiggle your eyebrows and tap his lips with your pinky. 
Jake scowls but parts his lips and you push the thosai piece into his mouth, satisfied with the outcome. Jake stays silent and fidgets with the drawstring of his sweatpants as you feed him the thosai. You grin at the sight before you. Big, scary Jake Lockley is acting shy and you were absolutely head-over-heels in love with him. 
You use your thumb to wipe his lips and kiss his nose before walking to the kitchen. Dimming the lights, you grab a book and climb back into bed, fluffing your pillow and pulling Jake towards you. 
You sit back on the pillows and Jake curled up beside you, gently laying his head on your chest. You slid your arm around him and started stroking his hair in a rhythm pattern. 
“Thoongadaa.” You whisper and Jake didn’t need to know what you meant to say as his eyes closed and his head became heavier on your chest. Within minutes, Jake’s breathing regulated and you knew he was asleep. 
You stare down at the man on your chest. He was so different when his face was relaxed. All the worry lines on his face almost looked like they were disappearing, filled with a form of relaxation that you were happy to provide. 
His long lashes rested on his face and you took note of the light dusting of color that was on the high points of his nose and cheeks. You trace the little scar on the bridge of his nose and his prominent brow bones with a feathery touch as you smile at the sight before you. 
The book that you took with you laid discard on your bedside table as you instead found solace in watching the love of your life sleep. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations: 
Rosa: Rose
Chellam: Sweetheart
Ayurvedic: Relating to Ayurveda, the traditional Hindu system of medicine
Acchi: Great-Grandmother
Raja: King
Kanna: Beloved
Thosai: South Indian savoury, thin pancake made from a batter of various fermented pulses and rice flour, which is then cooked on a flat griddle
Coconut Chutney: Coconut chutney is a south Indian chutney, a side-dish or a condiment, common in the Indian subcontinent
Mami: Mama
Thoongadaa: Sleep, da.
Chapter 9 | Chapter 11
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jake-g-lockley · 2 years
Text
The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 8: Ladoos and Jasmines
Warnings: Slightly NSFW (the beginning is a little hot and heavy), swearing, mention of weapons, Indian parents (iykyk :”) )
Word Count: 3.8 k
A/N: Special thanks to @paymeinkash for a little idea that is in this chapter <3 
Taglist: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart @sodonuthideout @obsessedwadonis @local-mr-frog @swiggy-needs-mental-help @pakhiya
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9
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Steven groaned into your mouth as you grind your clothed core into him. You kissed him with enough needy ferocity that made him buck his own hips against you. Your legs were on either of his sides and his heavy hands were carelessly grasping your hips, maneuvering you with his movements while your nails dug tiny crescent shapes into his bare shoulders. 
Your lips left his, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and you eventually found a sweet spot that made him whine your name and throw his head back. One of his hands left the sanctuary of your hips and traveled over your curves, up his shirt that you were wearing when suddenly you both heard knocking on the door.
“Package for Ms. Y/N!!” came the voice behind the door.
“Fuck, not again! Maybe if we ignored him, he’d go away?” you say, your breath heavy in your words, chest heaving right in Steven’s face.
“I highly doubt it, darling.” Steven chuckles, trying to regain his sense of balance. 
You groan as you get up from Steven and slide off the bed. You see Steven diving for his sweater that you forcefully tossed away into the far corner of the room a few minutes ago and you stifle a giggle. 
The past month and a half with the boys has been sort of a dream. Dates twice a week, spending the weekends together, shopping together, cooking together, the stolen kisses in the empty corners of the museum. You were on cloud nine. You had slight anxiety about going back to work at first and it made it a little hard to adjust on the first few days back, but eventually you got back on your game. You also somehow knew things were going too well for your sorry self.
One thing that has been bothering you for a while now is the number of times you’ve been cockblocked. One time it was the neighbor asking for sugar, another time it was your landlord and the dozens of other times it had been Amazon delivery.
Cockblocked by Amazon should be the title of your (not) sex tape. 
You slip on the pair of sweats that were tossed onto the couch and open the door revealing a small man carrying a very big and shiny package. Signing his paper, you take  the box from him, trying not to fold with the weight of it. 
“Let me help you with that, angel.” Steven said, swooping in to save your poor arms from torture and closing the door. 
“Very shiny.” Steven says, grunting a little as he placed it onto the dining table. 
You swore that you caught a whiff of something very close to home and you bit your lip, realizing what the shiny wrapping could mean.
“Ughhh, noooo.” you groan.
“What, what is it, darling?” Steven says, looking at you, concerned. 
“I think that's a wedding invitation. How the fuck did they get my address?” you say as you cut the wrapping paper gingerly as if you were diffusing a bomb. 
Steven watched, amused, as you gave up with the scissors and tore the wrapping open with your bare hands. A beautiful ruby red invitation box with gold details stared back at you. You open the latch of the box and pick up the invitation envelope which was encircled with ladoos and other sweet goodies. 
“Pallavi weds Thirumaaran, great, my cousin is getting married.” You groan again. “Even better, she's getting married here. Couldn't you have chosen another city to have your big fat Indian wedding?” You hear rustling and you look up at Marc who had fronted and popped a ladoo in his mouth, eyes round.
“Was I not supposed to eat that?” he mumbled, cheeks bulging like a very confused hamster. 
Instantly, your bad mood dissipated and you burst into laughter and reassured him that it was alright. 
“Maybe you should go, baby. I mean, unless you really, really don’t want to.” he says after defeating the large ladoo. 
“I don’t think I have a choice, she’s my first cousin and I don’t have any grudges against her.” you say reading the invitation again. “But, it's been, like, ten years since I’ve seen any of them and I know for a fact that some of them there would not like seeing me there, after my ficaso of leaving home.”  
“We’ll come with you.” Marc immediately says, shocking you. 
“You’ll really be my plus one?” you say, looking over the invitation at him. 
“Yea, the boys are ok with it too.” he shrugged. 
“Ugh, you guys are angels sent for me.” you said getting up and giving Marc a big kiss. 
“We have to go shopping, though.” you frown. 
Your bank account is going to hate you. 
 ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
And that's how you ended up saree shopping a few days later with Jake Lockley. You had chosen two sarees and were now bargaining the prices. When the retailer refused to go down on the prices, Jake shot him a look that would have made him shit himself and instantly, the prices went down a notch. Jake refused to show you what he got for himself and told you that it would be a surprise. 
“The blouses would be ready in a week's time, I guess.” you say, sighing. You were so exhausted. The whole wedding situation was stressing you out and you found yourself not being able to sleep at the thought that you had to see your parents. You would often find yourself laying in bed staring at the ceiling, especially on days where you weren’t in your boyfriends’ arms. 
“You sure you're ok with going, love?” Steven could always see right through you as if he had x-ray vision. “A big birdy told me you aren’t sleeping.” he continued sheepishly.
“Khonshu is stalking me?” you gape at Steven. 
“Well, not stalking, sometimes we get him to check on you, especially now when you look so stressed out. Don’t worry he isn't doing anything weird.” he quickly says.
Your heart swooned at the sweetness of your boyfriends. They are definitely one weird bunch and the giant bird god just added to the chaos. You had asked Jake to draw Khonshu out because you wanted to know what he looked like and you surely didn’t expect a mummified body with a giant bird skull and a staff.
You sigh, going back to your little ice cream. “You’re right, this is really stressing me out, but it's ok, I’m an adult, I can do this.” you said, smiling at Steven, who beamed back. 
On the day of the wedding ceremony, you were rushing around your apartment to get ready. You wore your hair in a half up, half down style with bouncy curls that took you ten thousand days to curl. Your kanchipuram cotton saree was a beautiful sunset shade with gold detailing and you accessorized it with a gold choker, jimmikkis and bangles. 
“Rosa?” you hear Jake at the door.
“Come in, I’m almost ready.” you shout. 
Tugging at the loose strands of your curls that frame your face, you carefully step out of your bathroom and your mouth dropped at the sight in front of you. Jake was standing in your living room in a white jippa with gold trimmings.  His curls sat perfectly on his head and he was wearing a hungry smirk that flipped your stomach, his eyes scanning you.
Adengappa…
You stood there and stared for a good while wondering whether you were dreaming. If you stood there staring any longer you would start drooling like a Saint Bernard on crack.
“Amor, are you done ogling?” Jake’s voice cuts through your little rendezvous.
“I wasn’t ogling, dummy, I was admiring my handsome boyfriend, who apparently exceeded all my expectations for today.” you smile. 
“Ooo, do we get a gold star?” Jake said with fake innocence, batting his long eyelashes at you. 
“Shut up.” you say, trying not to blush.
“Steven made us buy something for you to top off your look.” Jake said, revealing something in his hands. 
You gasp when you process what he had been holding. 
“You got me jasmine flowers for my hair! Where did you get this?” 
“Took us a while, but I have my sources,” Jake says, winking. 
A few minutes later and a whole lot of bobby pins, the jasmines were secured to your hair with the assistance of Steven’s nimble fingers. 
“You look absolutely ethereal, my darling sun.” Steven says, leaving a light kiss on your forehead.  
You give him a small kiss on his cheek and go to grab your heels and the present you got for your cousin. They agreed to have Marc be the one to be introduced to the family, mainly because Steven could do a killer American accent while Marc and Jake sounded like they were mocking the English accent. It made you laugh but it certainly would add to a whole list of confusion.
In the car ride to the wedding hall you were uncharacteristically quiet and still which made Jake ask you whether you were ok several times. 
“Amor, it's ok, we’re here with you, remember?” he says softly, grabbing your hand and kissing it. 
You turn to him and smile. His presence did really put you at ease. He pulled up to the hall that was next to the temple and found a parking spot in an instant. Marc fronts and gets out of the car, going to your side and holding his hand out for you. You smile and take his hand, letting him pull you out. He really is your rajakumaran.
“Are you going to be on your best behavior?” He asks. 
“Are you?” you counter with a smirk.
Marc mirrors your smirk and you feel yourself flush. 
“Alright, let's step into the lion's den.” You say tightly gripping Marc’s hand.
“Y/N, come in ma! ” You see your auntie gesturing at you. 
“Periamma! Long time no see.” you smile and watch as she registers the man beside you. 
“You look absolutely beautiful! Who’s this handsome man, Y/N?” 
Before you could say anything Marc puts his hands together and says “Vanakam, ma’am, I’m Marc Spector, Y/N’s boyfriend.” 
Yep, your heart was going to explode and you were slowly turning into mush. 
“Aiyo, please call me Jothi, kanna.” She said, offering Marc her hand which he brought to his lips for a kiss. 
“Periamma, eva enodu aalu, unakku already oru aalu irukku, please leave some for the rest of us.” You say before your auntie can steal your boyfriend, trying not to laugh. 
“Seri, seri, go inside.” She says, still eyeing Marc. 
“I think my auntie’s got a little crush on you.” you whisper to Marc who laughed as you both stepped into the wedding hall that was buzzing with activity. 
Moon Boys’ POV
Y/N let go of his hand to go chat to some of her cousins that she had spotted at the center of the hall. Marc smiled and watched her as her hair that was decorated with the beautiful flowers bounced around her and how she swayed her hips when she walked. 
He leaned against the wall behind him and continued to stare at his girl, when suddenly he heard something skid across the floor and hit his foot. He bent down and picked it up, realizing it was a purse.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, thambi!” He turned to the source of the voice and saw a tall, skinny woman walking towards him with a slightly plump and balding man trailing after her. They looked intensely familiar to Marc.
“Here you go, ma’am.” He smiled, handing the woman her purse. 
“Thank you, thambi. What’s your name?” the woman asked.
“Marc Spector, ma’am.” 
“Nice to meet you, Marc thambi. I’m Malar and this is my husband Sivanathan.” She said as Marc realized that he had landed right into the grasp of Y/N’s parents. He quickly shook their hands, covering his shock with a tight smile.
“Who’s side are you from, mappillai? Bride or groom?” Y/N’s dad asked.
“Bride, sir.” He says.
“Are you a military man, mappillai?” He asks, taking Marc by surprise.
“Yes, sir, ex-military, how did you notice?” Marc didn’t expect to be playing quick fire questions so early in the day. 
“Your posture is impeccable, and your short answers reminded me of when I was in the military!” The man laughed, making Marc relax slightly. 
Y/N’s parents continued to ask him a few more questions until they were satisfied and then started to introduce him to other people. They stirred him to the direction of Y/N and her cousins, who had her back turned towards them.
“Marc, you see that girl over there? She’ll definitely suit you.” Y/N’s mother says pointing to who Marc assumes is one of Y/N’s cousins and suddenly everything clicks. She has trapped him into matchmaking him with someone. Before he could say anything, Y/N turned around and her eyes widened at the sight she had to behold. 
Your POV 
“Amma? Appa?” you said, looking past Marc. 
“Oh! Y/N, didn’t expect to see you here.” Your mother blandly says. 
“Pallavi invited me.” you say, already feeling small.
“How are you? Still unmarried and jobless?” She said, letting go of Marc’s arm.
“Ma, we haven’t seen each other or spoken to each other for 10 years and this is what you have to say?” You hiss. “Yes, I’m unmarried but I do have a job, for your information.”
“A lousy job, no doubt. Look at the state of your hair, couldn’t you have straightened it or braided it like your cousins? You’ve put on some weight, I see.” Your mother sniffed and pinched your exposed stomach. “Who did your make up for you, it's so plain. You know when I was your age, I already had a child on my hip, not rolls like you. ” 
“Ma, what is going to make you happy?” You say, shaking your head, pushing her hand away from you. 
“Maybe if you got married? You see this nice mappillai over here? Marc Spector, ex-military. Maybe he’ll teach you some discipline.” your father says, slapping Marc square in the back. “Marc thambi, this is my daughter, Y/N, the family rebel.” 
“Hello there.” Marc says with a bemused smile and a small wink. 
Your brows curved in confusion as you looked between Marc, your mother and your father and then you realized what had been going on when you were talking to your cousins. 
“So, you’re telling me, if I get married to this particular man, both of you will finally be happy with me?” you say innocently, blinking at your parents. 
“Of course, you’d finally be listening to us.” your father says. 
Interesting. 
“Ok, sure.” you said, shrugging. “Mr. Spector, would you like to hijack this wedding and get married?” 
“Don’t be rude, Y/N.” your mother says and you roll your eyes. 
Just then, the music started to become louder, signifying that the ceremony was about to start. You, Marc, your mother and father took your places in a row of chairs. 
“Saved by the priest.” you whisper to Marc, who chuckled. “You're gonna teach me some discipline, sir?” 
“That can be arranged.” He whispered back, a smirk evident in his voice.
You administer a little punch into Marc’s arm and he recoils in mock horror and you take the chance to slip your hand into his. 
You quickly find out after the ceremony that your parents were as infuriating as the last time you saw them. But they seemed to be content with you and Steven talking to each other over the food that you were having. 
“When should we tell them, darling?” Steven whispers, concealing his accent. 
“Shh, I want to play with them a little longer.” you say, smiling at your parents.
You were still seething in anger with your parents behavior and were finally glad that you had the higher ground. You thank the universe for its unlikely assistance. 
“So, I see you two are getting along very well?” your father pipes up suddenly.
“Mmm, yea, we have a lot of similarities, pa. Oh and differences that he has offered to correct.” you say, sarcasm leaking into your words like poison. 
“Ah, good, good.” your father says, approvingly.
Suddenly, you spot your periamma coming towards your table and you sit back in your seat with a satisfied smile. Your plan was falling together perfectly.
“Malar! Sivanathan anne! I see you’ve found your daughter.” your auntie says, patting your shoulder. 
“Yea, and she’s still a little rascal.” your mother says, laughing. 
“And I see you’ve met Marc? Her charming boyfriend?” your auntie says eliciting the most beautiful reaction you’ve ever seen. 
Your mother’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened significantly to the point where her eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of her head while your father choked on the orange juice that he was sipping. Ugh, you just wanted to take a picture of what you were witnessing, frame it and hang it in your living room. You burst into laughter and almost started to tear up.
“Momma, I’m glad that you finally like one of my life choices.” You say in between laughs as your auntie notices the apparent shift in tension between your family and moves to the next table.
“I need you both to realize that I am no longer a child. I am a fully functioning adult who doesn’t need your opinion.” You say standing up and grabbing Steven’s hand. “I’m happy that I finally get to see you after so long. But now I’m going to leave, with someone who definitely makes me happier. Bye!”    
 ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You only let out a sigh of relief after you were in the car with your seatbelt strapped to you after rushing to thank and congratulate your cousin, apologizing for leaving so early into the night. 
“I'm sorry.” you say, turning to Jake.
“What's up, rosa?” he looked at you confused. 
“We shouldn’t have come here. It was a waste of time. We are definitely not going for the dinner tomorrow, I can’t stand being in the same room as my parents. I really thought they would have changed by now, after all these years.” you say, playing with your bangles. 
“Amor, if there is one thing I can tell you, it's that sometimes, some parents don’t deserve to have children. You’re an amazing capable woman and you don’t need your parents to acknowledge that. Besides, I’m glad that we came. I definitely enjoyed watching your parents squirm, they really looked like they deserved it.” Jake said, cupping your face with his big hands. 
You giggle and turn your head to kiss his hand.
Suddenly, Jake drops his hands and turns to the back of the car. His face twisted into a menacing scowl that distorted your thoughts and he looked like he was listening to someone. 
Khonshu.
“What? Now?” Jake questions. “I can’t bring her with me, Khonshu, it's too dangerous, I’m pretty sure you of all beings know that. Well yes, I know that it's not far from here but can’t I drop her off first?”
Whatever conversation Jake was having with Khonshu certainly pushed him over the edge because he gripped onto the steering wheel as if he wanted to tear it out of the car’s dashboard. 
You didn’t want to ask what had just happened, but you assume that Khonshu wants Jake to do something that involves Moon Knight. The one thing you’ve noticed about Jake Lockley over the past few weeks is the fact that he can get very serious and withdrawn very quickly. It's a sharp contrast between the times when he is more relaxed. You sink into the seat as Jake silently drives and not too long later, stops at an abandoned factory. 
“If I lock the door, will you stay here?” Jake says to you, his voice low. 
“Yes, of course.” you say, watching him as he pulls something from under his seat. 
“This will keep you safe.” Jake says, handing you something metallic.
You gasp as you take hold of a gun. You blink at it and look up at Jake.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know how to use a gun, Lockley?” you say, your heart speeding up. 
Jake gives you a quick rundown and you hang on to every single one of the words that comes out of his mouth.
“I won’t be long, amor, but whatever you do, do not leave this car.” he says, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and stepping out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
You watch in horror and bewilderment through the car window as Jake flexes his body and tips his head back allowing the cloth wrappings to envelop him until the ceremonial Moon Knight armor covers his entire being. You’ve never seen the armor up close before and it looks absolutely magnificent. His eyes glowed and he grabbed a crescent dart magically out of his chest piece.
“Khonshu definitely has the flair for the dramatic.” you say to yourself as you watch Jake take long strides into the shadows, cape billowing in the wind. You look up to the beautiful full moon that graced the skies and sighed. 
This is going to be a long night. 
 ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations:
Ladoo: Laddu or ladoo is a spherical sweet originating from India and spread through the Indian subcontinent. Laddus are primarily made from flour, fat (ghee/butter/oil) and sugar.
Saree: A sari or saree is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a pallu, baring a part of the midriff.
Kanchipuram cotton: Purely handwoven by master weavers from the city of Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu, these sarees carry elegance yet being simple.
Jimmikkis: A style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent
Rosa: rose
Jippa: Traditional wear for Indian men
Adengappa: Exclamation (like holy shit or OMGEIII)
Amor: Love
Rajakumaran: Prince charming
Periamma: mother’s older sister
Vanakam: Traditional tamil greeting
Kanna: Darling, sweetie
Eva enodu aalu, unnaku already oru aalu irukku: This is my man, you've already gotten your own man
Seri: OK
Thambi: Little brother / boy
Mappillai: groom/ son-in-law (also just randomly thrown around, not meaning what it actually means)
Amma: Mother
Appa: Father
Anne: Brother
Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*
Chapter 7 | Chapter 9
91 notes · View notes
jake-g-lockley · 2 years
Note
hey akka<333 I just saw your requests are open!!
can i please have a moonboys x desi!reader(doesn't have to be tamil, im only half tamil, so~) where moonboys have to go to india(her hometown, maybe hyderabad? ) for like a mission and reader begs to tag along because she hasn't been there in months and so when they're there she takes them along to all the monuments and introduces then to like indian food, AUTHENTIC indian food and like Jake is going feral over everything, Marc is enjoying the food and steven is drooling over the monuments. and reader runs into her old friends who were toxic and made hr=er her feel like shit and shes kinda gets into a spiral about herself and moonboys reassure her that they love her and calm her down? THANK YOU AKKA YOU ARE BY NO MEANS IN ANY WAY PRESSURE TO DO THIS, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU
Hyderabad Diaries (Steven Grant x desi!reader, Marc Spector x desi!reader, Jake Lockley x desi!reader)
Masterlist
Summary: Your boyfriends are going on a mission and you wanted to tag along :) Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, mentions of weapons. Word Count: 2.7k words
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A/N: Here you go! Again thank you so so much for the requests sweethearttt <333 I tried to make this as fluffy as possible. (Also ik the song above is about friendship but I THINK ITS CUTE FOR THIS OKAY)
Tagging: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @pakhiya @ahookedheroespureheart @swiggy-needs-mental-help
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You always hated it when your boyfriends had to leave for missions. You knew the suit they had would most definitely protect them and keep them away from harm but you worried endlessly about them and would constantly curse the moon god that would drag them around for these missions.
“Darling, it'll only be for one or two weeks, I promise, we’ll be safe and we will text and call.” Steven says, neatly folding his clothes and slotting them into the luggage bag.
You pulled a sweater that he just folded out of the bag and hugged it close, nuzzling the soft material with your nose, smelling the faint smell of Steven’s cologne. Your eyes threatened to tear up again. You couldn’t do it, your heart was aching.
“Where are you guys going anyway?” you say, trying to distract yourself by helping Steven.
“Oh umm, top secret, mission things.” Steven mumbles, avoiding your eye, making you frown.
“Steven, what are you not telling me?” you say, your heart speeding up.
“Uhh, ohh, I think Marc is better at handling this.” Steven mumbles again and dipped so fast that you don't have time to react.
You stare unbelievingly at Marc who gives you a nervous smile and backs away slowly from the table that you were sitting at. You got off the chair and glared at Marc.
“What are you guys hiding from me, Spector, you better tell me, or I swear I will torture it out of you.” you say clawing your fingers as you approach him.
“OKAY! FINE, I’LL TELL YOU WHERE WE ARE GOING, PLEASE, STOP!” he screams, gasping for air as you tickle.
You sit back on your legs, satisfied with your work.
“We’re going to Hyderabad.” Marc mumbles and your jaw drops open.
“No way, really?” you say, unable to contain your surprise and Marc nods.
“Please take me with you, please. I haven’t been home for months, please Marc, baby.” You plead instantly, scooching closer to him.
“I knew you would ask me, that's why I wouldn't tell you.” He frowns. “I can’t take you along for a mission, sweetheart.”
“Dude, it's my home, I’ll be safe, please, I promise, just lemme come with you, yea?” you say, gripping his bicep, rubbing circles.
Marc glares at you but you could tell that he was slowly giving in, his eyes betraying him.
“You’re lucky that we love you so much.” Marc scowls and grumbles and you crush him in a hug and smother him with kisses.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
On the day of departure from Heathrow Airport you were literally bouncing up and down with excitement.
Marc, on the other hand, was on his weird ‘father duties’ whereby he didn’t let you do a single thing, checking in the bags with his hands on his hips and making sure for the hundredth time he had the correct passport and tickets. You watch him with a small smile and shake your head at his behavior, realizing that he would make a really cute dad.
The flight took off without any issues and soon you were soaring through the skies. Three hours into the flight, the flight attendants came around with their food carts.
“Would you like anything, ma’am.”
“Just a coffee please!” You say smiling up at the flight attendant, but your smile flattered when you saw where she was looking.
“And a side of stop-eyeing-my-man.” You mumble.
“Sorry ma’am?” The flight attendant asked
“Nothing.” You smile sweetly, taking the coffee and curling your fingers around Marc’s bicep, tightening your grip on him.
“Possessive much, sweetheart?” Marc whispered, chuckling as you glared at the air stewardess’ retreating figure.
“You’d do the same, asshole.” you say pinching him softly and he pretends to die from the pain, making you laugh.
The nine hour flight was quicker with Marc by your side and the second the both of you stepped out of Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, you were greeted by Jake, who stretched and yawned from the long flight, grabbing your bags and pecking your cheek.
You breathe in the familiar smell of home and feel it envelope you. You spot your cousins at the entrance and run up to give them a hug, Jake trudging behind you.
“Anu, Hari, Vani, this is my boyfriend, Marc. Marc, my cousins Anushri, Harini and Bhavani. And this handsome man is my uncle, Vas.” you quickly introduce the lot. Jake smiles at your cousins and shakes your uncle’s hand, helping him load the stuff to the car.
Jake sat in the front, making small talk with your uncle while you and your cousins squeezed into the back seat of your uncle’s car. Within 20 minutes, you were at your grandmother’s home where you and Jake were welcomed with an aarti and loads of hugs. Jake leaned down and touched your grandma’s feet, seeking her blessing, which made your heart almost explode with adoration for him.
“Ma, you didn’t tell me that this handsome man was so charming over your calls?” your grandma gushed over Jake, reaching up to pat his face as he gave her a dopey grin.
“You talk to your grandma about me?” Jake whispered as he and you followed your cousin up the stairs.
“No, I talk to her about Gus the flippin' fish on a daily basis.” you say blandly, rolling your eyes at him, making him chuckle. “Of course I talk about you, dummy.” you continue as the both of you part to go to different rooms.
You were to sleep with your cousins and Jake got one of your cousins rooms. You knew that the boys would be out most of the time and you've already made an excuse for him as to why he would be out for long hours, telling your family that he would be going to a few meetups for an artifact, which was not exactly a lie.
You knew that Khonshu probably is sending them to find another world-ending artifact that the gods had left lying around Earth hundreds of thousands of years ago.
“Amor, I'm gonna excuse myself. You have fun and stay out of trouble.” Jake enters your room and kisses your forehead.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” You say poking his chest and he chuckles again before exiting the room, leaving your cousins to stare at you open mouthed.
“What?” you stare back and exaggeratedly widen your eyes, eyebrows furrowing.
“Spanish?! And the FOREHEAD KISS?!!” Anu shouts, making you hiss.
“Oh, yea. And Arabic, some French and Ancient Egyptian, for obvious reasons.” You say, counting off the languages, grinning from ear to ear.
“Arabic, French and Spanish? The holy trinity of beautiful languages? And he looks good too. You didn’t tell us he looked that good, you just said he was cute?” Vani questions.
You throw a decorative pillow at her and she laughs.
“Why don’t you ask him when he comes back for dinner?” you challenge her.
“Deal.”
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The boys didn’t arrive for dinner and you made a sly excuse for them to your family, stating that he was having dinner with the artifact dealers. Despite feeling extremely tired, your cousins dragged you to get ready to go out and meet some friends at an open bar. You reluctantly agreed to it and sent a text to the boys before leaving.
Going to an open bar to meet up with old friends, hope everything is alright, love you xxx.
You hit send on the text and sigh, the pit of your stomach swirling with worry. You look up to the full moon that is shining amongst the stars and smile, telling yourself that they will be fine.
The open bar was lovely and you sipped a little sunset martini as you caught up with your friends.
“So, Y/N, how's life?” one of your friends, Shahira asks.
“Pretty normal. Um, my job is steady and I’m relatively happy in London.” you say with a smile.
Your life was far from normal, but you definitely wouldn’t admit your little secret to your cousin and friends.
“She’s being humble,” Anu says, nudging you, “You should see the hottie that she brought back here.”
Just as she says it, you hear the words ‘mummified vigilante’ float into your ears and you whip your head around to the TV that was switched to the news channel. And there he was, clear as day, your “hottie” running at an unfathomable speed in the Moon Knight suit, trying to get away from the press camera, cape swishing in the wind. The people around you gasp and you turn around, downing your sunset martini in one go, eyes wide.
Well that's one way to find out that they are okay.
Clearing your throat, you frown at your friends. “Who the hell was that?” you said, masking your worry with confusion.
“Dunno. Never saw ‘em before.” your friend says.
After a while the bar simmers down and everyone is back to their own business but your heart is pounding against your chest and you take slow breaths to calm yourself down.
“So, as I was saying, Y/N’s hunk of a boyfriend is living with us. He speaks five languages and is American!” your cousin says and you glare at her for going on and on about your boyfriend.
“Got a picture? Let's see him then.” one of your friends says and before you could say no, your cousin whips out her phone and shows a picture of him.
“Dude, did you sneakily take a picture of him?” you hissed at her while your friends stare at the picture. “He’s a very private guy!”
With a lot of enemies.
“Damn, Y/N, did you use a love potion on this guy? He’s so out of your range.” Shahira says, making you frown.
“I..don’t follow?”
“He’s hot and you’re, you.” She says, gesturing at you, smirking as your frown deepens.
“You’re too drab for someone like him, Y/N. You probably bore him, like you bore us. Or maybe he likes ugly girls.” She continues, miming shoving two fingers down her throat and pretending to puke.
You stare in disbelief at Shahira, a friend that you've known for years, who was dragging you down for something so impervious.
“I don’t get it, are you, like, jealous or something?” You ask before you can stop yourself, your cousin staying silent beside you.
“Jealous? Of you? Plain, old, drab, Y/N? Oh please, I could take him away from you with the snap of my fingers.” She smugly says.
“Unless of course, you paid him some money to come with you? That's why he’s not here right now with you, hmm?” Your friends around you giggle like a bunch of school girls and you feel your face heating up.
Your blood boiled and you wished you had one of Marc’s crescent darts, Steven’s batons or even Jake's gun in your hand right now. You stood up and pulled a few notes out of your purse and slammed it down onto the table, making the glasses clink.
“You know what, I’m leaving. You all can keep making more of your theories, just never speak to me again. And Anu? I’m so fucking disappointed with you.” You say and turn, stomping away, trying to hold back your tears as you frantically call a cab.
You cried all the way home; the alcohol, the constant worry that you had for your boyfriends and the embarrassment you felt just now, piling together into one big emotional landslide.
You kick your shoes off at the landing and run up to the boys’ room, which you presumably thought was empty, so you flung the door open and attempted to dive onto the bed but instead you collided with a wall of muscle.
“Darling? Why are you crying? Bollocks, are you hurt? Did something happen, my love?” Steven’s frantic voice travels into your ear and you hug him tightly. He tips your face up to meet his eyes.
“Don’t look at me, I’m ugly.” You mumble as Steven scrunches his face into a confused expression.
“What happened, honey? Did something happen just now?” He says softly, wiping your eyes with the pads of his thumbs, cradling your face in his palms.
You shake your head, tears threatening to leak out of your eyes again.
“It’s ok, I’m here when you're ready.” He said soothingly, one hand leaving your face to pull you closer to his chest.
“Do I bore you, Steven?” you whisper into his thin t-shirt.
“What? No, no darling, you don’t bore me at all.” Steven says, shifting slightly to look down at you. “What makes you say that?”
You slowly tell him what your friends said about you and him.
“Oh please, we’re not teenagers, my love, we’re adults.” Steven chuckled. “Besides, Marc and Jake are not that good looking, maybe I am but the other two are- OWW!” You look up to see Steven pulling and twisting his own ear and a laugh escapes you instantly.
Steven sinks into the parquet floor and drags you down, pulling you onto his lap. You immediately press your forehead into his neck as he holds you.
“We personally think you’re gorgeous and probably the most interesting person out of the four of us.” Steven says into your hair. “Don’t let their words get to you, my love. I don’t think they really know the real value of you, the way me, Marc and Jake see you. You’re our perfect angel.”
You nod and stay there a little longer, absorbing Steven’s energy.
“I saw you guys on the news.” You whispered.
“Oh yea, pesky news van didn’t wanna let us go, the bastards.” Steven chuckled. “But great news, we found the thing that Khonshu was looking for. Didn’t expect to finish the job so fast, innit?”
He pointed to a little gold bracelet on the table and you grinned.
“Does this mean you have time to spend with me here?” You say, looking up at him.
“Of course, we can have all the fun you want.” He smiled.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The next day was probably the most amazing day you had spent with the boys in a long time.
You woke up to a beautiful authentic Indian breakfast spread made by your grandmother that you and Jake finished in less than ten minutes and still wanted more. Jake showered your grandmother with flattery which only made her feed him more food.
“Ammama, you're going to turn him into a lazy hibernating bear, I wanna take him around town!” you tell her as she attempts to serve him again.
She pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair, making him grin and stick his tongue out at you. You glare playfully at your grandmother.
“I’m her favorite now.” he whispers, smirking.
Avoiding your cousins, you and Steven decided to leave early to take a bus to Golconda Fort. You listened intently to Steven’s explanations about the place that he read out of the book and animated it to you with his expressions.
You had been here before for a school trip but you have to admit that Steven made the experience more entertaining than you had intended. Sooner or later, people started to gather around and listen to Steven instead of the actual tour guide.
“Steven, Steven, baby, we’re gonna get kicked out.” you whispered as Steven smiles shyly at the crowd around him and you.
Marc had found some street snacks and after a long few hours of walking together, you both slumped onto a bench.
“Good god, Steven really talks a lot doesn’t he? My jaw hurts from rambling so much.” Marc says, rubbing his face.
“Are you sure it's because Steven talks a lot or because you and Jake clench your jaw to the point of damage.” you tease, cupping his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks together, making him pout like a duck.
“Maybe both.” he mumbles and rolls his eyes.
You laugh and let go of his face, leaning your head onto his shoulder and continue to savor your snack.
“Marc?”
“Mhmm?”
“Thanks for letting me come with you guys.”
“I was scared to death thinking that you would tickle me to high heaven if I said no.” he says back.
“Don’t be a wuss.” you chuckle.
“Yes, yes, love you too.” Marc says, nudging you.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations:
Hyderabad: Hyderabad is the capital of southern India's Telangana state.
Amor: Love
Ammama: Grandma
Golconda Fort: Built by Qutub Shahi Kings, this fort presents an impressive structure, with eight gates and 87 bastions.
95 notes · View notes
jake-g-lockley · 2 years
Text
Double Wedding Bells (Moon Knight x desi!reader)
Masterlist
Summary: Three men and two very different wedding ceremonies, how hard could that be?
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Warnings: I am not Jewish or Telugu so there might be some things that are not precisely accurate, almost all of the stuff that is ceremony-wise is gotten through research, mentions of DID.
Word Count: 1.8k words
A/N: This is a request from @sodonuthideout thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write this <3333 (translations are at the end of the fic, enjoy)
Moon Boys POV
Marc fidgets with his cufflinks again, tugging the edge of his suit as he frowns at Steven and Jake in the mirror.
“We look fine, hermano, calm your nerves.” Jake says, giving Marc a smile. 
“Yea, bruv, we cleaned up pretty well.” Steven chimed in with a blinding grin. 
“I can’t believe that we’re getting married to her.” Marc whispers. 
After 2 and a half years of courting Y/N, the boys decided about 2 months ago that it was time to pop the important question. They knew that they didn't want to spend the rest of their life with anyone else if it wasn’t her. She was their lucky charm, the light to their darkness and so much has gone so well for them over the past few years that Marc could hardly believe it.
He had reconciled with his father and they both had been going to therapy sessions where Marc has been dealing with his past traumas and DID. His relationship with Y/N had never been better and although he was still Moon Knight, Khonshu has been much more relaxed over the past few months. 
“Looking great, my Knight.” Khonshu says, patting Marc’s shoulders. 
A knock sounded at the door and Marc’s father opened the door and peeked through. He walked up to Marc and smiled at him, taking in his son. He adjusted his tie and Marc saw a tear slip from his fathers eyes, which he automatically brushed off his face.  
“I’m so proud of the man that you have become, my son. Thank you for taking me back into your life.” his father says, cupping Marc’s face with his hands. “It's time.”
Taking a deep breath and adjusting his kippah, Marc followed his father out of the room.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Marc stared at the ketubah, waiting for Y/N. He nervously looked at the rabbi who smiled reassuringly back at him. Soon, the sweet smell of roses mixed with the heavenly smell of Y/N’s signature perfume floated towards him. When Marc turned to look at her, he swore that he could have been knocked off his feet in an instant. 
She was wearing a beautiful pure white lace saree with a long sleeved blouse, topped with a stunning veil that was cascading down her perfectly curled hair down her back.  The veil was a small gift from Khonshu, who had a soft spot for Y/N, and Marc could see little silver crescent moons on the veil glowing slightly, making her look absolutely ethereal while she clutched the modest bouquet of white roses. He almost didn’t hear Steven and Jake audibly gasp in the headspace as he stared dreamily at her. 
She reached out and gave Marc’s hand a soothing squeeze and the both of them turned to look at the ketubah, reading it and signing it with Marc’s father and the rabbi as witnesses. Marc then turned back to her, as instructed by the rabbi, and took a long look at her beautiful smiling face before he veilling her. 
He then stepped forward to take his place beside his father as she took her place in the middle of her parents. To Marc, this was probably the most overwhelming part of the ceremony where he had to walk to the chuppah lacking one parent. 
“It's alright, Marc, Jake and I are here with you every step of the way.” Steven’s voice fills Marc’s pounding heart with the supportive affirmation and he realigns himself again as they begin to walk down the aisle. 
Marc took his place on the right of the decorated chuppah while Y/N took her place in front of him, her parents behind her. They only invited a few people that were very close to them for this ceremony. Marc caught Frenchie’s eye, who gave him a wink and Marc grinned back at his old friend. The various rituals and blessings went by quicker than Marc expected it to. 
The guest cheered “Mazel tov!” as Marc hears the glass shatter under his heel. He turned to look at his Y/N who was smiling at him with the most beautiful look on her face.
“Ready for the other ceremony, my handsome husbands?” she whispers. 
“Ready when you are, our angelic wife.” 
Your POV
You stared down at the beautiful gorintaku that covered both of your arms as your mom helped you with your nakshi vaddanam, a beautiful but heavy pure gold belt that adorned your belly. The vaddanam was a gift from Steven, who had carefully picked out the belt after thoroughly researching it, finding one that suited your style as well as complemented your tradition. 
They had popped the question on a random Tuesday night when you were lying on their lap reading a book with your tongue between your teeth and a stupid expression on your face as you judged the book characters actions. Marc was the one who was fronting when the question was asked and it was so fluid, as if he was asking what's for dinner the next day. 
You remember staring down at the band that Marc was holding between his fingers absolutely confused. Your mind had refused to work for a few seconds until Marc’s soft cough filled your ringing ears. You could barely form the words to say yes to the question because of the sheer shock that was coursing through your head. 
Your best friend, who is also your maid of honor, grabbed the eyelash glue and tapped a little on your forehead, helping your papidi billa stick to your forehead, right above the special gold amulet that was tied with yellow thread. You felt like a real regal queen in your red and gold saree. The veil that was gifted by Khonshu for the Jewish ceremony had magically shifted colors to match your saree, now a sheer gold with tiny glowing gold crescents and was pinned to the top of your braid that had been done up with fresh fragrant flowers. 
You couldn't wait to get married to your boys again and you could feel the waterworks starting up. You were so exhausted with all the prep you had to do but so excited to start your new life with the boys. The nerves started edging up on you this morning and all you wanted to do is see their face and feel their presence next to you. 
“Come, kanna, it's time to go up to the mandapam.” Your mother says, pressing a small kiss on your temple.  
You say a little prayer, hoping that everything would go as smooth as possible and you grab your best friend’s hand, taking a deep breath to diminish the nerves. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You take your place in the middle chair between your parents, behind the curtain called the terasala, which was hiding Marc from your view and the ceremony starts. You watch as your parents wash his feet and offer him your hand. Marc states his promises after accepting your hand and you feel your eyes tearing up again, listening to his soft sweet voice. 
The priest calls the auspicious time as cumin and jaggery paste is smeared on your hand. You lift your hand over the curtain until you feel Marc’s soft curls under your hand and you feel his hand on your head. The curtain drops and you see Marc for the first time, wearing a silk white kurta and dhoti with the same amulet tied around his forehead. You grin at him as rose petals cascade over the both of you.
All you could focus on is Marc’s beautiful deep set eyes and how you are doing this so that you could spend the rest of your living days staring into those adoring eyes. Those eyes flashed to Steven and then to Jake and back again to Marc. You wanted all of them, the good, the bad and the ugly. You never wanted anything more in your life. 
He sends you a small wink as the both of you lower your hands and the priest hands him the mangalsutra. Yellow rice rains around you and him as the music around you crescendos.
Marc leans in and ties the sacred yellow thread smeared with haldi around your neck with three knots. 
“I love you, I love you so much.” he whispers.
“I love you too.” you say as tears run down your face, the feeling of peace settling in you as Marc seals the eternal action with an unceremonious kiss on your forehead. 
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations:
Hermano: Brother
Kippah: A kippah, yarmulke, or koppel is a brimless cap, usually made of cloth, traditionally worn by Jewish males to fulfill the customary requirement that the head be covered. 
Ketubah: A ketubah is a Jewish marriage contract.
Chuppah:  A canopy under which the bride and groom stand during a Jewish wedding ceremony.
Mazel tov: "Mazel tov" or "mazal tov" is a Jewish phrase used to express congratulations for a happy and significant occasion or event. 
Gorintaku: AKA henna. Temporary body art resulting from the staining of the skin from the dyes.
Nakshi vaddanam: This ornament is worn on the belly of the bride. In earlier days, this belt had a lot of significance as it was a symbol showing the woman’s child-bearing abilities. The Vaddanam would often be designed with precious and semi-precious beautiful stones. Most often, this belt would be carved with different images of Lord Vishnu, Goddess Lakshmi and her consort
Papidi billa: “Papidi billa”(maang tikka) is a piece of jewelry worn in the middle of parting of the hair and is meant for adorning the forehead. 
Saree: A sari or saree is a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent, that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole (shawl), baring a part of the midriff
Kanna: Darling
Mandapam: A wedding Mandap is a mandap (covered structure with pillars) temporarily erected for the purpose of a Hindu or Jain wedding. The main wedding ceremonies take place under the mandap.
Terasala: Tera means curtain and sela is cloth. So, it literally means a cloth used as a curtain, between the bride and the groom.
Kurta: A loose collarless shirt of a type worn by people in South Asia
Dhoti: A garment worn by male Hindus, consisting of a piece of material tied around the waist and extending to cover most of the legs.
Mangalsutra: In many parts of India a pendant necklace — called a mangalsutra, or “auspicious thread,” is tied around a Hindu bride's neck during the wedding ceremony, a symbol that the couple is bound in matrimony and an indication of the bride's new status as a married woman
Tagging: @pakhiya @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @ahookedheroespureheart @swiggy-needs-mental-help @mintpurplemnm @soumya-13 @softieekayy
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