#moonknight imagine

[januaryembrs]

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE | Marc Spector x reader

Request: @happyhauntt says - okay i am BEGGING for a fic based on the song 'forest fire' by brighton (be warned that shit HURTS) but i fully cannot decide between poe dameron, steven/marc or spencer reid so i am giving you full creative direction and i look forward to getting my heart ripped out!!

Description: Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

length: 3.9k

Warnings: Heavy warnings for childhood / domestic abuse/neglect (both from Marc and also reader has a neglectful father) warnings for alcohol, the cave scene, drowning, death etc. you asked for angst, so I served!

authors note: sorry this took so damn long, today isn't even my day off and I have been too exhausted to even look at my computer, but I hope you like it!

Before Randall was too little to be part of his adventures, Marc used to play on his own in the yard. 

Usually that entailed kicking a football at the wooden fence that lined their garden, trying to knock it off his chest when it would come bouncing back the way he’d seen the professionals do it, even if it had led to three milk teeth coming loose already. 

But there weren’t kids on his street to play with, at least that’s what he thought until the one day he kicked his ball a little too high and watched it fly right over the top of the fence, bouncing into the neighbour's yard, a soft “ouch” meeting his ears. 

In minutes, a little head appeared over the wall, beady eyes frowning down at him, and he realised it was a girl around his age, maybe a little younger. 

“Did you lose this?” She held up his soccer ball he was worried he was going to have to kiss goodbye to forever, the small digits of her other hand holding onto the fence tightly. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick it so high,” Marc said, and with no more explanation than that, she threw it over to his side of the partition, and her tiny head disappeared back below the fence line. 

He felt stunned. He knew there were moving boxes over that way a couple weeks ago, but as far as he could see there was only a man living there on his own, a scowl on his face most days. Marc had seen him shouting at the other kids on his block to stop riding their bikes in front of his house because it ‘upset the dog’, though Marc had yet to see for himself this canine friend he was speaking about. 

But there was a girl living there! A real life girl who spoke to him; granted he had lobbed a heavy soccer ball at her, from what her distaste told him, and he wondered if perhaps, despite the grumpy look on her face he realised mirrored the man he’d seen living there, that she might like to even make friends with her neighbour. 

“Wait!” He yelled, running up to the fence where she had slipped away from him, grabbing on to the top and pulling himself up to the point he was on his very tippy toes and he could only just about see her yard. 

The grass was unkempt, which was odd because Marc’s own dad cut the grass every fortnight, and there were planks of wood with nails sticking out of them strewn across the side of the shed she had used to pull herself up with. He fought the urge to cringe in disgust, because there, looking up at him from where she was making a daisy chain in the long, dry grass, alone in a pink plaid shorts and a white, dirt stained top, was the girl. 

“Do you want to play?” Marc asked, his foot nearly slipping under him where he was trying to rest it on the wood to take a closer look, “I have tennis, or swing ball we could play?” 

She looked interested at the mop of curly, black hair for a moment, before she looked back at the house that he had still yet to see any sign of a dog. 

“I’m not sure my dad would like it…” She said cautiously, almost whispering to him, picking the soil under her nails. 

“My mom could come around and get you, she could talk to him,” He offered, because this was when his mother was still mom and not Wendy. 

Before she had yet to flip his world entirely upside down with her cruel hands and vicious tongue. Before Steven. 

She seemed unsure, biting her bottom lip and stroking her arms like she was giving herself a cuddle. But she nodded, looking up at him, and he tried to hide just how excited he was to finally have someone to play with. 

“I’m Marc,” He said, grinning at her, his tongue poking between the space where his adult teeth were only just growing back in. 

She told him her name back, and it was the first time he understood what a crush was. 

–

“Marc, I’m not sure we should be doing this,” She said, grabbing his hand so tight he thought his heart might explode. 

“It’s okay, we come here all the time, don’t we, RoRo?” He reassured, looking back to where Randall, now a few years older and big enough to play with them, held onto the side of the cave, his own face nervous. 

“All the time!” The little boy echoed, because Marc knew he had a bit of a thing for her as well, because she was older and cool and smelled like a field of flowers and he hated seeming like he was scared, even though he was. 

He was just a kid. 

They were just kids. 

And being kids, they stumbled into danger without realising it, not even when the rain started coming down outside torrentially and they had to pause their game of pirates to run for cover. They hadn’t expected, in their childish excitement to continue the adventure, that the water would start pooling into the cave; that it would fill up like a basin, whether they were in there or not, and it wasn’t until the screaming started that they realised they were in the kind of danger that required an adult. 

Marc was the first one to get out, his hair soaked, his heart racing, and he used a grown up word he heard his dad use sometimes because he could have sworn they were both right behind him. 

And if that had been true, then where were they? 

He called her name, debated going back in there himself to see where they had gone, then he yelled for RoRo, because she didn’t seem to be answering. 

And there was only silence, except a clap of thunder overhead that said the rain was going to get worse; was not going to stop for hours. 

Which was when he ran to get his dad. 

By the time Elias got there, his glasses wet and steamed, his thick thatch of curls too similar to Marc’s soaked through, all he could see was a head of hair peeking out of the mouth of the cave, and his heart sank. 

He dragged her out of the dark water, arms under her shoulders as he rolled her on her front and started patting her back, trying to get her to spit some of the water out, because her face was ice and her skin was soaked and her playsuit was ripped from where she’d snagged it on the rocks. 

Marc remembered crying into his hands, gaze flicking back to the cave to see if RoRo was right behind her, if he was just waiting to be pulled out as she had been. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but rain water and moss and those damn rocks he’d been gripping onto not an hour earlier. 

His heart leapt when she spluttered finally, after his dad had thrown her over his knee and taken to giving her a one handed heimlich right between her shoulder blades. She spat the water out, her body shivering immediately, eyes bleary as they looked around as if she expected to still be in that dark hole in the wall, and Elias set her down on the grass to go look for his youngest son. 

“Stay with her, Marc,” He barked, uncharacteristically sharp for him though Marc guessed it was fear, and took off towards the cave again. Marc pulled her into his arms, and it was only then they started wailing together. 

They sat there for an hour when the rescue team finally arrived, a medical team with warm hands and even warmer blankets ushering them to the safety of the back of an ambulance, and the last thing Marc remembered for that horrible day was sitting on the stretcher with her pressed against his side, trembling under the reflective wrap they’d been tucked in that made them look like baked potatoes, wishing he had never suggested they go in that damn cave. 

–

“You’re leaving?” She said, her lip quivering, her eyes lined with tears. They sat on his bed, his duffel bag already packed, his acceptance letter burning daggers into his head from his nightstand, “Military? Marc, just think about this for a minute-”

“I have thought about it. I’m not some dumb kid making rash decisions, I want this,” Except he didn’t, not really. What he meant to say was he wanted to leave, to run away and never come back, but the idea of never seeing her again was too difficult to think about. 

She thought about it for a moment, and he held her hand when he saw her face really start to crumble then. “If you go, I’ll have no one left. You’re all I have,”

He didn’t hide the fact he saw how nervous she was when Marc would pick her up from her house and her father would see her out the door, a nasty, inebriated glare in his eyes at the Specter boy. He saw all the times she would tiptoe around the floorboards, the way he knew too well, as if she was scared of what would happen if she took up too much space, made too much noise. Or when his mother had been kind, way back before any of this had happened, and had fussed over her pretty hair, had piled food on her plate because Wendy said she needed the goodness, she had locked up entirely and looked at his mother as if she was an alien. 

Even now, when they were both seventeen, nearly adults in the grand scheme of things, he knew her father was cruel. 

“I’m sorry,” He said honestly, and he felt his own throat clogging up with real emotion he only ever let himself show when he was with her, “When I get a place of my own, I’ll come back here, and we can pack your bags together, and we can live far away from all of this,” 

And it sounded like he was spinning her a fantasy; which he was. She felt like an idiot for believing him, for flashing him a small smile and leaning her forehead to his which was the closest they ever got to admitting how they really felt about each other. 

He wanted to kiss her then, before he left to start his new life, one where they could be happy together, and he made a promise to himself that when he came back for her that would be the first thing he would do. 

He could see it now; he would be in some kind of flashy car with the top rolled down, a man grown from the regime and fitness they would teach him in the army and she would come running to him like an angel parting the clouds, like a dream that was finally within reach, and he would kiss her then, so hard it would make up for the time they had lost, the time they had grieved together, it might even make up for that day she nearly died because of him. 

So he left her, that fantasy of coming back to her keeping him going in the months of training, during roll call and exams and the small, clinical portions they would serve him in the military. 

But that day never came. Somewhere between losing himself to the alter that had formed and led a full life separately to his, between hiding Steven from the ugly truth and becoming a mercenary after dropping from the army, he tucked the dream away as a what if, and he didn’t return back to that house where his mother had caused so much hell. 

Not until the second day of her shiva, that was. 

-

“Marc?” He forgot how sweet his name sounded from her lips, and he hated to admit it in the middle of his drunken state, but he’d wished he’d never heard it again in his entire life. 

Because the second his front door opened, and a woman in a long black dress, heels and lace gloves stared back at him with a face that looked similar to a girl he once knew, only a notch between her brows that said she had done nothing but frown for twenty years, he wished he had never seen her again. 

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he ever gave her credit for, yet she looked tired. Sunken. Like she had wept and screamed alongside all the frowning. 

“Marc,” She said it more determined this time, pacing down the stairs to his home, her footsteps rushed and worried, “Are you okay?,” 

He knew he must look like a mess. He hadn’t stopped crying for three days since he got the first phone call from his father in almost two decades, since he’d learned his mother had passed, and he was already a bottle of whiskey deep by the time he’d stepped out the cab onto the street he grew up on. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought she would be there. He guessed she would be far away from this place, just like he had been, in a mansion with a 401k and a dog and a neurosurgeon for a husband. She had always deserved it. 

But here she was, grabbing the bottle out of his hand gently, rubbing a hand over his shoulder like not a day had gone by that they hadn’t seen one another, and it didn’t take him much convincing at all to pull her into a hug he had needed since the day he left. 

“My mum’s dead,” Marc said, sounding like a little boy again when he wept into her neck, squeezing her body to his, and he felt her rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I know, Marc, I’m so sorry,” She hummed, and she smelled like a fancy floral perfume he couldn’t afford to give her before, “I know you must be feeling complicated,”

He nodded, because he couldn’t have put it better himself. He felt complicated. 

“I missed you,” She said, like it was a confession, and he cried harder, his face burying into the crook of her shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” 

“How’s Steven? Is he still around?” She asked, pulling him away to root through her pocket for the pack of tissues she’d kept handy for the day. He took a deep breath, rubbing his sleeved arm over his face to dry it even the slightest. He could feel his cheeks sopping wet from where he had sobbed in the back of the cab like a madman all the way here. 

But she was still fussing over him, and she looked just as pretty as he had remembered her, sitting on his bed that day, if not only a little more tired under her eyes.

Ofcourse she had known about Steven. How else was he supposed to explain the times they would be playing boyfriend-girlfriend together and he would become a different person. 

Sometimes Steven would remember her too, because it didn’t matter to her who he was, she was his best friend either way. He remembered a girl who smelled like summer, sitting on the swings and eating ice lollies together, taking it in turns to push each other, blue tongued and happy. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replied quietly, as she handed him the tissues, “He misses you, too,” 

She smiled at him with her lips pressed tightly.

“I take it you’re not coming in?” She said in a careful tone, and he shook his head quickly. 

“No- I just can’t,” He said, tears welling up in his eyes in seconds, and she wrapped him in another hug immediately, soothing his hurt as fast as it had bubbled back up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” She hummed, stroking down his back gently, and he hugged her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him together. 

He opened his mouth to speak when his front door opened again, and he worried for a second that it was Elias. 

Instead, he saw a girl no older than five emerge in a cute, poofy dress that met her knees, her hair tucked into a neat braid, lace gloves matching her own as she lingered at the doorway. 

And perhaps the thing that struck him the quickest; she was the damn near double of the girl he’d hit in the head with his soccer ball in that very yard. 

“Mommy,” The girl said in a gentle coo, her eyes empathetic as she met his gaze, more empathetic than he knew children could feel. But, he supposed, if she was her daughter then it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

His best friend turned, her face smoothing out into something peaceful when she saw her little girl, and he knew then she was born to be a mother. Nothing like his own, nothing like Wendy, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. 

She was a mother. 

“Yes, baby?” She said, half stepping towards her child as the girl stumbled down the first step towards them, and she was quick to swoop her into her grasp and onto her hip. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” The girl said shyly, peeking a glance at him over her mum’s shoulder, and she waved at him with tiny fingers. 

He waved back, even if the sight of her had dumped a bucket of cold water all over his body. 

“Alright, baby. Just wait in the foyer, I’ll come take you in just a second, I’m just speaking to my friend right now,” She said, stroking over the back of the girl’s hair softly, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, and her mum kissed her once more, plopping her back on the top step to direct her back into the house. And they were alone again. 

She looked at him guiltily, stepping back towards him as she fiddled with her sleeves nervously, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get childcare and I don’t really know anyone in state anymore-”

“No, it-it’s fine,” He stammered, feeling her watching him for his reaction carefully, “What’s her name?” 

“Dalilah,” She replied, rubbing hands up her arms to calm herself. 

“Where’s her dad?” Marc asked, hoping he didn’t sound bitter, but the whiskey made it sound like a bite. 

She shrugged, “He wanted the cars and the house when we split; I wanted her,” She said calmly, like it wasn’t one bomb after another to be dropped on him. 

He knew nothing about her life. He had tried to run away from that promise he’d made her for twenty years, because he knew he would never be good enough for her; that he could never give her the happiness she deserved, even before he had become the Moon Knight. 

At his core, he would rot her, ruin her. He would destroy her.

And yet hearing it was just the two of them alone, he felt like he could take out the piece of shit who ran out on them barehanded and go home to sleep next to her soundly.  

He felt like perhaps, as much grief and anguish as returning back to that house had caused him, perhaps this was his second chance. His chance to be what she needed, to be something good.

He would be so good to them. He would give them everything if she asked. 

“I’m not really in town much, especially with my dad still around,” She said, gesturing to where her yard still stood, full of junk and a dog that had supposedly been kicking strong for two decades, “But I would love to see you again. Lila has school most days so you’re free to come over any day of the week if you want it to be just us; I work at home,” She scribbled an address about two hours away down on a piece of paper, along with her phone number, handing it to his distraught face with a sad smile, somewhat hopeful he would take the olive branch she was shaking his way. 

He took it with a nod, his bottom lip still trembling before he bit it hard enough to force it to stop. He would love to see her, if he would even allow himself something good. If he would just let go of the resentment for everything that reminded him of that time, he could see the two of them healing one another slowly, but surely. 

She could fix him. And he could fix her. The way it had always been with them. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Marc said softly, allowing her to grab him tightly one more time, “I really did miss you,” 

She laughed, not properly more like a sad breath out, squeezing him to her, “I loved you so much. I never let you go, you know that?” 

He tried not to sob, almost holding her so maddeningly hard she couldn’t ever leave. 

But he had to let go eventually, and he watched her walk back up the stairs to where his family mourned, her face glinting with something hopeful, holding a flashlight out to him where he was walking around in the dark blindly.

He tried to smile back, though he knew it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn't be truly untouched by the grief he wallowed in. 

And by the time he got back to his hotel room, alone, even more drunk, Khonshu had another job for him that would whisk him away for two weeks. But he kept her number, the piece of paper gripped in his hand tight, like he was determined to keep his promise this time around.

He dialled her number exactly fifteen days later, his body aching, his nose bloodied, but something lighter in his chest at the prospect of seeing her again. The light in his dark, the girl on the swings he’d once pretended to marry during their game of house (the rings had been tiny daisy chains she’d woven together just that morning, their officiant was Randall who could barely ride a bike let alone remember the vows he was supposed to say.) 

Only when the phone got put through, a different woman answered, and the light flickered back out into something cold and dark and vengeful. 

“Oh, oh god, you haven’t heard?” He swallowed thickly, “She was hit by a drunk driver last week picking Lila up from school,” The woman, her cousin, explained, her voice teary and solemn, and he didn’t doubt she’d had to make a thousand of these calls the past few days, “They said it was quick, and Lila went fast so she wasn’t in any pain- and she was only in the ambulance for ten minutes before her heart stopped so she wasn’t hurting long either-” 

But he put the phone down, his eyes wide, his body numb, his chest empty and lonely. 

Because the very last bit of good in him was gone; because everything he touched was cursed and tainted from the offset. 

It took what felt like twenty cups of whiskey for him to black out that night, he knew sleep would evade him, he knew not to even bother trying. And Jake Lockely woke up for him, something mean and hateful in the black of his eyes. 

He didn’t care who, but someone was going to pay for his cielo being taken from them. 

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector fanfiction #moonknight x reader #marc spector imagine #moon knight x reader #moonknight imagine #jake lockely fanfiction #jake lockely x reader #steven grant imagine

[brightjimini]

some recent fanfic recs☑️

for: moonknight, batman/battinson/ jason todd/ cod

some are 18+ (please just dont read if you are not):***

the link is my short amazing *sarcasm* review, jokes aside go read them and show them love. also most of these are longer fics! (i think all are x fem!reader if yall want a gn!reader let me know)

moonknight 🌙

this whole series is 10/10 by @januaryembrs

the way jake is portrayed *heart eyes* by @phantomspiderr

just dropped their whole mlist here so you can binge read by @st4rymoon ***

i am a sucker for hurt comfort by @vintagemulti

batman 🦇

most prob already read this series BUT ILL NEVER GET OVER IT by @jangofctts ***

i just love sad bruce by @the-wintershade

nightwing longtime friend reader x bruce on pollen need i say more by @imaginedisish ***

the way bruce is portrayed A M A Z I N G by @vigilvntes

normally im not really into pregnancy fics but this one ooooh the tension, the angst, the buildup… by @afro-hispwriter *** (just read everything she wrote while your at it)

jason todd ♦️

recently did not read that many red hood fics😞

i actually have not read this one yet bcs of school but it is long and it sounds good by @lightwing-s

cod 💀

this series has me in a chokehold zombie apocalypse universe reader x single dad ghost with a KID now that i think about it its so genius to put ghost who is always kinda cold with a kid in a situation like this and reader by @nsharks

now the legend cod writer made a merman price fic.. im sold ofc by @halcyone-of-the-sea

i hardly see colonel reader fics and i found out i like them (x ghost and angst) by @bits-and-babs ***

#fanfic rec #recommendations #call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #batman x reader #battinson imagine #battinson x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #john price #price x reader #price imagine #john price x reader #john price imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #moonknight x reader #moonknight imagine #jake x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #battinson #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader

[character-babblings]

mdni 18+ only

everyday i wake up

(this is a oscar isaac character home)

welcome to my moonknight headcanons (also, yes i'm always down to elaborate or discuss)

Steven Grant, my sweet boy:

steven is actually working on skills in the bedroom. he's 100% branching out thanks to you. he's an eager and ready to learn student.

he's not entirely inexperienced but he's just so deeply obsessed with you. the way your clothes just always looks so good on your. hugging your curves and always bringing out your eyes. he may be biased but he thinks you're easily the most perfect woman in the whole world.

and the way you moan for him is just as perfect of course. steven 100% prefers to be face to face with you when it comes to sex. he has to see your face when he does anything.

and he's obsessed with how vocal you can get. when he's eating you out (honestly his favorite most of the time). the way your hands play with his hair as he'll lick and lap at your pretty clit.

"oh good steven. you're so good. such a good boy." and he's like putty. you cannot tell me that this man doesn't have a praise kink. bless his heart. he just wants to make you so happy. the way he flicks your clit with his tongue with hooded eyes because he's lowkey playing with himself with one hand while one dances at your entrance.

"steven. i need your fingers. please?" and he's just ready to please as he plunges his fingers in you. hair starting to become wet with sweat as an idea bubbles in his head. inserting two fingers into before removing his mouth.

"you have the prettiest cunt, love. it's so delicious and warm. i can't wait to put my dick in here." he tries. and he damn near cums his pants watching your eyes roll as you let out the most earth shattering moan. his eyes widen as he abandons your pussy all together. he didn't expect that.

"oh? do you like it when i talk like this? that's awfully naughty of you darling..." you're beginning to squirm as you wrap your legs around his torso. "steven just fuck me now please! you whine as you reach to take hold of his face to kiss him. and with that he's back to being a whiney mess at your words.

"fuck alright love."

Marc Spector: Resident dom (fight me. fight me rn)

absolutely dom. only a handful of times have you ever had any control. and that's fine because he 100% knows what he's doing obviously. he's gifted in the eating and bossing department.

he's got you on your knees in front of him just ramming the fuck out of your face and relishing in the gurgles and choking sounds your mouth is making. one hand in your hair and the other on the back of your head.

"oh what a good girl you are. good fucking girl. hey, relax your throat more. there you go little slut. swallow around my dick." he's tapping the side of your face before pulling your face off his dick. "you alright sweet girl?" he asked as he checks your face. he's revels in how ruined your makeup is as you nod at him, you're the one eager to please him now. he smiles almost darkly at you before grabbing you by your neck.

"good. because i didn't forget what a fucking brat you were today." he states as he drags you over to the bed, pushing you on it. "you have five seconds to strip. whatever's left on is getting ripped." he sighs taking his pants off. "you know i love you, but the way you acted today...i should have bent you over right there." he states as you assume the face down ass up position. reaching over to grab your face before

"remember i don't like brats. that shit may fly with Steven but never me. and i know Jake doesn't tolerate it either. so do me a favor. act like your brain actually fucking works." he warns as he lets go of your face. sitting up fully before beginning to pound your shit.

"let me enjoy this, don't make a sound. you make a sound and that's one more orgasm i'm giving you."

Jack Lockley: Hard dom.

(thank god this dude got minimal screentime bc idk how to act)

as aforementioned he's got a 0 brat tolerance. absolutely don't give this man attitude. he won't hesitate to smack your mouth a little or grab you by your face harshly before whispering to behave with a stone hard face.

he also will never hesitate to find a secluded area to fuck you hard in. he's fucked you against the window of both yours and his place for sure. no balcony is safe honestly. he loves to leave so many marks for the other two guys to find. he also has a safe word because when i say he gets rough i mean it.

he's choked you so hard he's made you pass out a hand full of times. then he'll patiently wait for you to wake up before continuing on while you whine and complain wondering why he stopped. muttering about how you're such a whore who only thinks about his dick.

he's giving your face a smack when he detects a little attitude. talking about "what was that? did you wanna say something little girl?!" and making you repeat yourself.

"your brain is fucking gone huh pretty girl? is that why you're talking to me like this?! i know i've fucked you out but talk to me like that again and i promise you that you can watch while i take care of myself." he literally growls as he grabs your hair and brings your head up so his hot breath hits your ear.

"because next time, i won't be nice and let you cum for the rest of the week." he says while releasing you.

(a/n please tell me this is a safe place for my moonlight slut thoughts please please please)

#steven grant smut #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #jake lockley smut #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley imagines #marc spector smut #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #moonknight smut #moonknight imagines #moonknight imagine

[lostalioth]

❛ don’t worry, i’m staying right here. ❜

Marc spector x female reader💛

Marc feeling that the reader has left his bed so he leaves his room to find her on the sofa having an anxiety atack.

A bit angsty but mostly fluffy💗💗

now this is my first writing for marc but i loved this so much and I accidentally made it more fluffy than angsty

𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 – 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘤 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘳

→ warnings: nicknames [babe, baby, sweet girl], description of shooting and dead body, panic/anxiety attack, angst, mostly fluff.

Before you can think of a plan to get away or even register the sound and what has happened Harrow pulls the trigger and shoots Marc right in the heart. You feel your world and your heart shatter into a million pieces all at the same time as you watch his body hit the water. blood gushes through his shirt around the wound and you need to cover your mouth fast to stop yourself from screaming. Tears quick to brim your eyes threatening to fall as you watch in horror as Harrow's men pull your boyfriend's body from the water, you wanted to scream, run at them, even if it meant simply dying alongside your boy.

Once his body was on flat ground his men stepped back letting Arthur set something small and shiny on his chest. He’s quick to leave Ammits tomb with the goddess in hand who was encased in a tiny stone statue, you turn the corner from your hiding spot the minute they leave and run right to Marc.

“Marc! Steven! Please my love, either of you please..” your voice gets caught in your throat and you choke on it. Tears began to softly stream down your face as you kissed his forehead and placed your hand over the scarab on his chest. Your heart feels like it’s been ripped from your chest, fighting to hold back the gut reaching scream that’s bubbling in your throat.

You’re jolted awake in a sweating, out of breath haze. Your heart feels like it's gonna jump out of your chest with how fast and hard it's beating. Your chest heaving hard, you felt like you couldn’t breathe properly no matter how hard you tried. head spinning, your eyes filling with hot tears, clouding your vision. It felt so real, you couldn’t even tell if you were still dreaming or not. You didn't know what was real, you couldn’t stop relaying the moment the shot rang through your ears and you watched the love of your life’s body hit the water. That sight is burned into your memory, every single detail of it.

Being so wrapped up in your spiraling thoughts you are startled at Marc placing a hand on your shoulder. He had been woken up by the jarring shift of your body besides him. His hair was all disheveled and fluffed up, his eyes half lidded, you’d make a comment of how cute he looked if only you could speak and weren’t in the middle of a panic attack.

“Babe…what’s wrong?” Once he woke up a bit more he took in your appearance, you were hunched over the edge of your shared bed, a hand on your chest, eyes brimming with even more tears and labored and inconsistent breathing. He pushes his way up out of bed to come sit beside you on the edge of the bed, it sinks down as he slowly sits down, he’s never seen you this way, it's slightly scaring him as well as steven.

“Hey..hey baby what happened..?” He is slow and careful as he reaches his hand to place on your knee in an attempt to calm you. The last he wanted was to startle you again. “Night-nightmare…of that night in the-the tomb…” your voice was so hushed and shaky Marc almost couldn’t understand you but the moment your wobbly words sank in, his heart sank to his stomach with them. More tears stream down your cheeks as you watch fear flash on his face, as if his sequence of events of that night just replayed in his own head.

“Thought i lost you all over again…” your words came out a little less shaky this time and yet your words break Marc’s heart all the same. “Oh..sweet girl…” he sighs and he softly wipes away your tears as they fall. You lean into his touch, your heart aching like you haven’t seen him in years, you needed to touch him, needed to know he was real. As he’s wiping your tears away you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and smash your lips against his. “Need to know you're really there….” You mumbled into the kiss and through your tears, your eyes squeezed so tightly shut like you wanna never open them up again as if he’d simply disappear the moment you do.

He grunts and shuts his eyes, kissing you back deeply and softly. A kiss so full of love, devotion and tenderness, a kiss that restores the breath in your lungs. Marc softly pulls you in close by the waist and lays the both of you down, the both of you holding onto one another for dear life.

You both pull away slowly, limbs intertwined and panic subsided. “Dont worry im staying right here baby…” he whispers softly as he presses a small reassuring kiss to your forehead before resting his against yours, looking deep in your eyes. “I’m right here my sweet girl, nobody’s taking me away from you, not even over my dead body” he smiled sweetly and rubs his thumb over your stomach and hip.

You hit him lightly for his poorly timed joke and rub circles on the back of his neck. You’ll always forever be thankful for whatever in the hell happened that allowed marc to come back to you, and steven. You needed them both more than they knew.

“I love you” you whisper softly as you and marc drift off to sleep, body’s wrapped around one another, like your souls, forever intertwined.

→ a/n: so i fully intended on posting this a while ago but never did anyway, i kinda forgot a bit of the request like she was supposed to leave the bed but im still a bit rusty after a long ass hiatus again and i barely proof read this cause i wanted to post today!! I love Layla but for this to work reader pretty much sorta is Layla/replaces her but you and marc aren’t married lol

#message received ☾☆ #fluff #angst #marc spector #marc spector imagine #fanfic #moon knight #moonknight imagine #moonknight fic #moonknight fluff #steven grant #moonknight x reader #f!reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector x fem!reader #fem!reader #panic attack #anxiety attack #fluff blurb #blurb #moonknight blurb #marc spector blurb #short fic #fluff headcanons #moonknight headcanons #moonknight x you #moonknight x y/n #female reader

[jayden-killer]

Bonita.

Paring: jake lockley × fem! Reader.

Genre: smut to Angst to fluffy

Warnings: sex, dom!jake, sub!reader, p in v with no protection, use of safe word, panic attack, low self-esteem, reader being insecure about herself, jake being so lovely with reader.

A/N: It's a bit rushed at the end, but i couldn't think of a better ending lmao

~°~

Hot hands rambled on my body as I was merciless fucked by my boyfriend, Jake. He had no mercy when it came to sex, an animal caging his prey with his strong arms. It felt so good, his cock buring inside of me, sliding in so easily thanks to my wetness. He was so big I could see the bluge forming on my lower belly. That could have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I could hear thunders outside, rain droples hitting the window outside.

–Jake, Jake, please...– I managed to say in tiny whispers, his hand now moving to grab my neck, lightly squeezing it. He didn't apply so pressure at all, just to keep my mind altered. His other hand squeezed my hip, with such force, to keep my body glued to his, his chest pressed against mine. He was forcing me to take every inch of him.

–What is it that you want, cariño, mh? I thought you were finally shutting up.

–I need to c-cum, please Jake, I can't..!–

–Now, you should take a look at yourself, you're so beautiful like this, preciosa– I could see him smirking, making it me difficult to keep my composure even if I was being fucked so good at that moment. He moved a piece of hair from my face and stopped. My chest panted, trying to make my lungs gain air. I thought he was done until he slapped me lightly on my tight.

–Turn around, I want to fuck you in front of the mirror–

He gave no time to me to change position, manhandling me with little force. He let my back press against his chest now. He panted into my ear and positioned his tip on my lips again, sliding in one more time with no obstacles. This position allowed me to see Jake's movements better.

Slap, slap, slap.

Skin to skin. We were so sweaty, but that was so worthy of the moment. His well-brushed hair now sticking to his forehead, his well-toned chest glistening in sweat, his eyes filled with lust...that was driving me crazy.

–....so pretty, I can't control myself, mierda, que chiquita tan obediente, tan linda– It seemed Jake was more talking to himself in mutterings than to me I couldn't process entirely what he was saying, but he didn't stop. The more he fucked me with force, the more he rambled.

–I love you, so pretty, never letting you go, never, s-so fragile, my doll, my girl, my sweet girl...–

I never stopped to look into the mirror, Jake's eyes eating me as If I was the best dessert served. But, those phrases. Panic begin to settle into my mind: was that just nonsense? What If he loves me just for sex? Does he love me? Does he find me pretty and all of that stuff?

What if..

Does he..

He can't be serious.

He doesn't love me.

He doesn't.

I'm a mess. He can't love a mess like me.

A utter piece of shit.

I'm so useless.

Oxygen seemed to leave my body as soon as I was thinking all that stuff. I could sense the tension being to rise, and my mind started to be foggy. Dwelling on my fake thoughts.. even my head was spinning lightly.

–Jake, Jake...– I called him, but no response. He was losing himself in the sex. Then, again.

–Jake, please, s-stop..–

He kept fucking me. I couldn't do this. He was going to hate me if I had stopped the sex. Panicking more, I let the safe word slip out of my lips, in a whisper-shout, and Jake immediately pulled out, he hugging my body.

–Preciosa, que pasa? Que te pasa?–

Tears streamed out, and I knew it was impossible to stop tears, and Jake knew I was having a panic attack. I remember the moment I warned him about my anxiety disorder, which sometimes carried panic attacks and anxiety. He knew what he was dealing with, and told me that Steven was suffering from it, too, and that he would handle the situation the better he could. Jake gently took my body, now facing me and caressed my head.

–Princesa, calm down, breathe slowly, okay?–his hand cupped my cheek. My teary eyes looked into his. He seemed so calm... how could he do that? Was he pretending to be calm?

Worse, was he pretending to genuinely care about me?

–Bebè, i got you, okay? Breathe slowly. Follow me, take baby steps. One step at once–

He let my hand lightly touch his chest, allowing me to feel his heartbeat. Has he said slowly? I need to breathe slowly, or else...

My mind was still spinning and panicking, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was so scared that even what Jake asked for seemed like a complicated task. But I tried. I needed to try for him. So I breathed in, and out. In and out. In and...-

–ya pasò, tranquila

My eyes landed on his and I was met with warmth. He helped me sit on the edge of the bed, placing soft hands on my back, and rubbing it in gentle circles. He didn't back away, never. He was always there to help me, to listen to me. Sometimes I wondered how I'd managed to date a soul like him. It felt too much like a fever dream than reality. So Jake asked me what happened, if he triggered me with something, and I took deep breaths again, before actually explaining the episode.

–It was not you. Of course, Jake, it is never you, you make my heart flutter every time–I say in chuckles, -I hate to admit it, but it is strange to feel..good-

I felt Jake's eyes soften more at my words. He made a sign, as to say "keep going".

–Sometimes my mind thinks its not okay to deserve actual love from someone else. And destroys me with little thoights which grow more, and more in..something explosive– A sigh escapes my lips and I rub my eyes in exasperation. Jake's quick to grab my chin and make him look to me.

–Bebè, I know what you're saying. And I know what you are feeling.- He pauses, adjusting himself on the edge of the bed, sitting closer to me, now grabbing my hand and placing it on his tight-You don't have to say that, please. I don't know what you've been through, but I sure know a thing- His tone is sad, and worried, even though there's no lack of confidence in what he says.

–First, I love you. You're incredible in all ways. You're good-natured, kind, empathic, reliable..and I can go on!– A chuckle escapes his lips. He never fails to amaze me. -I must admit, when you first kissed me, I was the one to think that I didn't deserve your love. But you made me think that again-

I nod at his words, smiling. –Whoever put those shit of thoughts in your head– he gently placed a finger on my forehead –I'll remove them with my own hands!

–You know it can't be truly possible, right?– I ask, chuckling

–You want me to die! Like, disassembling my brain, like the doctor in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein–

–So? It's going to be fun!– His hands find my sides and Jake starts to tickle me in fast and hard, and I have no choice but to let out bursts of laughs.

–I surrend! I surrend! Let me go!- I loudly laugh, but the smirk on Jake's face says otherwise.

–Only if you promise to let me cook you my special dish and let me treat you like a queen deserves-

I frantically nod and his tickles chase down, letting me regain my breath and sit one more time on the bed. He chuckles at the sight, and his eyes seem to soften once more. The next thing he does is hug me, tight and close to him. I can hear his heartbeat. Fast. So fast.

–Promise me you'll talk to me whenever you're feeling down. Do you understand? You don't have to face it alone. I'll do everything to make you understand you deserve it–

A pause.

–You deserve the love–

And I promised him, I would reach out for his help. For me.

For us.

#jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight series #steven grant x y/n #jake lockely smut #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight headcanons #moonknight imagine #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x y/n #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #imagine oscar isaac #oscar issac x reader #oscar isaac #oneshot

[takenbypeter]

Weird Nicknames

Steven Grant x reader

Words: 375

FLUFF BINGO

It started early.

“Good morning moon boy.”

“Here you go love bug.”

“This is for you, my baby faced beauty.”

“See you later fuzzy wuzzy.”

At first it all seemed like a great joke, calling him silly nicknames throughout the day, each one slightly goofier than the last. But it wasn’t the funnest prank when all day, after each name he would just respond with his usual wide toothy grin to each name.

“Hey can you please hand me that?” You asked, pointing his attention to the book that lay on the shelf close to him. Without missing a beat Steven reached up and grabbed the book you had been reading since yesterday and passed it to you.

“Thanks, boo boo bear,” you thanked, taking the book from him.

You thought that would earn a strange look from him but all it got you was another one of his famous smiles.

That’s it.

Dropping the book beside you, you shook your head unable to take it anymore. “Okay, why won’t you call me out?”

Steven looked at you, standing with confusion forming on his face. “Sorry. What?”

“I’ve been calling you these dumb, weird names all day and you haven’t called me out once. No strange expressions, no comeback of your own.”

Steven’s eyebrows pressed together crease deepening in the middle as he seemed to be in thought.

Your shoulders dropped a new sort of realization hitting you, “you didn’t notice?”

Steven quickly refuted the idea, waving his hands in the air, “no, no. Trust me, I noticed.”

You giggled a little at his fast movements and he breathed out a smile at the sound. Collecting himself he sat down across from you on the mattress in his room.

“I guess I didn’t say anything because,” he shrugged unsure of why he reacted the way he did. “I guess I don’t care what you call me. The fact is you call me and I love that.”

Although you felt some shyness to his words, you could feel the warmth of your heart melting at his confession.

“Oh Steven,” you sighed, shaking your head and lifting your hand to meet his arm. “Come here you goofball,” you said, before leaning to press your lips to his.

#steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #moonknight imagine #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction #fluff bingo

[vintagemulti]

sunshine

pairings: steven grant x reader , talks of marc spector x reader

desc: steven grant, curer of shitty days.

warning: workplace harassment (nothing physical), marc being slightly murderous but it’s nothing if not deserved, swearing, angst / comfort, absolutely tooth rotting fluff

a/n: i literally needed to write something short, sweet and fluffy after the glass series ☠️ take this as part of that series or a stand alone, i don’t mind! bold / italics means marc is speaking, bold means khonshu is speaking - reader can hear neither

requested here

masterlist

if you said your day was shit, it wouldn’t been the greatest understatement of the twenty first century.

everything about your day, from waking up five minutes before your alarm to no steven or marc, the bus being late once again, your boss being an utter cunt - for lack of a better word - but there was no surprise there, no dinner… everything. everything was wrong about this day.

until you opened your front door.

the house was loud, music playing in one of the rooms, oven on and something that smelt delicious cooking. you could feel the tension release from your shoulders.

steven must have heard you come in, because he stuck his head around the kitchen wall, smiling when his eyes landed on you.

that smile. that fucking smile made you lose it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore, the hot tears falling down your face before you could even try to stop them, handbag landing with a thud next to you.

“oh, no, no,” steven rushed over to you. “darlin’, what’s wrong?”

words seemed to fail you, your lungs were too focused on getting sharp inhales between sobs. steven wrapped his arms around you, your senses immediately being overtaken by his cologne - not marc’s, his. that was another difference between your boys.

“it’s alright, baby, i’m here.” he whispered into the top of your head, hand rubbing circles on your lower back, pulling you towards the couch and setting you on his lap.

steven continued to whisper those reassuring nothings into your ear for a few minute, before your breathing was stable enough to form a sentence.

“shitty day.” you mumbled, repositioning yourself so you could look at him.

“how?” his hands came to your face, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears and wiping the tears that continued to fall.

“boss,” you leaned into his touch. “keeps hounding me about this new project, and…”

“and?” he raised an eyebrow, and for a spilt second you saw the ghost of marc on his features.

“he keeps asking me out for a drink, and i’ve told him i’m unavailable, but he won’t seem to hear the word no.”

i’ll kill him.

yes, i’ll agree for once.

steven pulled you into his chest, eyeing the mirror behind him. “i’m sorry, darlin’. he’ll get what he deserves.”

normally you would inquire more, but the meaning behind the phrase seemed to pass by your tear fogged mind, bringing you comfort rather than questions.

“is marc here?” you mumbled into shirt.

he hummed a yes. “why?”

“just wonderin’.”

“you wanna talk to him?” steven has went back to tracing patterns on your back.

“i will, just not now,” you pulled him closer, if that was even possible. “don’t go, please.”

steven kissed the top of your hair. “i’m not going anywhere.”

before you could say anything else, the smoke alarm gave a long chirp, so loudly you thought the whole of london would hear it.

“ah, shite,” steven gently moved you off of him and walked into the kitchen, pressing the button off.

he opened the oven, more smoke coming out as he did so. “shit.”

you tried not to laugh. you really did. but you couldn’t stop the giggles, especially at the sight before you. he scowled, but his eyes gave him away - he was about to burst out laughing as well.

and he did, he laughed with you for at least a minute, standing in the kitchen holding the something-that-smelt-good from earlier.

he set it on the kitchen counter, pulling the over gloves off as well. rolling his eyes, steven elected to ignore marc’s simply hilarious comment about his cooking abilities, and walked back over to you.

although you had stopped laughing, the smile still resided on your lips. your lips, that steven came over to and kissed - a soft, gentle kiss, full of love.

pulling back, he took your face in his hands. “there’s that smile,” he praised, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“it’ll be chinese then, i take it?” you mumbled into his kiss.

“absolutely.”

—

the remains of your salt and pepper chicken sat on the table in front of you as you watched some soppy rom-com, although you weren’t really watching it.

sleep had almost overcome you, your eyelids were heaving and steven’s heartbeat was like a lullaby in your ear.

he looked down at you, smiling at the sight. “still having a shitty day?”

“a little,” you mumbled. “but it’s better with you.”

steven brought a hand to your head, running his fingers though your hair and massaging your scalp in a way that had you sure your brain was nothing but mush and goo, floating about in your skull.

go to bed, i’ll take the body when you’re both asleep.

steven nodded. “give him one for me, please.”

don’t worry buddy, i’ll give him plenty.

#moonknight #moon knight #moonknight imagine #moonknight imagines #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac imagines #oscar isaac imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction

[whatthefishh]

Tell us ur soft Steven thoughts pls

Hehehe

I’m just thinking about how cozy he is, how open and vulnerable he is about his thoughts and feelings, and how comfortable he’d probably try and make you feel. How much he would stumble and apologize over his word choice in an effort to say the perfect thing. How he would smile and watch your face for a reaction, any tell that he said the right or wrong thing, eyes taking in your expressions carefully with his own smile hanging halfway off his lips.

Thinking about how his clothes look like a mess sometimes but it’s usually because he tries to maximize the amount of time he spends in bed, if you were to be there with him. Just to hold you for a few more minutes, to make the day a little more bearable.

Thinking about him making dinner, trying to get it done before you get home and frantically running around the kitchen for different spices, running to the fridge for the parsley to garnish the soup.

He’s the type of guy to add a single flower in a small vase to your small at-home dinner, tongue in between his teeth as he focuses on perfecting the moment.

I could go on and on, to be honest, but that’s all I’ll leave you with as I enjoy the leftovers from dinner 🤭

💛 ty for asking nonnie

#steven grant imagine #steven grant fluff #steven grant my beloved #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #inbox 💌 #steven my baby #moonknight imagine

[ijustwant2write]

Sleeping Buddies-Steven Grant x Reader

(GIF credit to @marveldaily)

Summary: Unbeknownst to Marc, Steven has a girlfriend. This girlfriend also doesn't know that Marc exists, as well as Steven's odd sleeping rituals.

Characters: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just fluff and it's long

                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did you really have to be that harsh on those guys?" Steven moaned as he sat up in bed, his body aching.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you have preferred to be beaten to a pulp back there?" Marc snapped back.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I thought the suit was supposed to be all healing, why am I aching?"

"You slept in a weird position last night."

Steven just shook his head, slowly walking towards the cupboard with cereal in it. As he poured himself a bowl, he heard his phone ding, smiling when he saw who's name popped up.

"(Y/N)? Who's that? And why are you smiling so much?"

Steven ignored him, unlocking the phone and instantly tapping on the notification. He had two messages from her, both sweet, just like her.

'Good morning 😊 hope you're OK after what Donna said to you. That sounds terrible! Sometimes I wish I worked at that museum with you just so I could give her a piece of my mind! 😡 I can't wait to see you this weekend, I've really missed you xx'

Marc was really confused as he read the text. How did he not know about this woman? And how did Steven manage to even talk to a girl?

'Hi, are you OK? I tried to face time earlier but you didn't answer. Obviously it's fine if you're busy, but I'm guessing your sleep is messed up again. Maybe we can go to a doctor together about it? If you want that is, no pressure my love. Anyway, I hope you're sleeping well, I'll message you in the morning as usual. Sweet dreams xx'

"Steven, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I do, actually. Why do you sound surprised?"

"What does she look like?"

"None of your business! Besides, it's all messed up now, innit? Now you're in the picture, and how would she react to that? This relationship is still new, I don't want to ruin it."

"You've got to tell her at some point."

"I know but-"

Steven was interrupted when someone knocked on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone or anything to be delivered today. Maybe it was the postman that had a parcel for his neighbours who weren't in. Steven took the blue strip off the door, hiding his body behind the door, he was still in his pyjamas after all. However, his mouth dropped open when his girlfriend stood there.

"Holy shit, Steven."

"(Y/N), h-hi, what are you doing here?" he fully opened the door, forgetting how he looked.

"Sorry, I know I should have called or text before coming over. I just...I was starting to worry about you."

"You have to tell me how you picked up this girl."

"Worry? Why would you worry?"

"It's four in the afternoon. I was supposed to text you this morning and during work like I usually do but I was late today, and then I had to basically cover everyone else so I didn't have time. I've felt so bad."

"No, no sweetheart, why would you feel bad? I'm the one who's been sleeping all day."

"It's a good thing you're not at work today."

"You remembered my schedule?"

"You sent me a copy of your rota, just in case sleep gets the better of you."

"Steven, she's way out of your league."

Steven was slightly offended by Marc's words, but he knew it was true. He too had been shocked when (Y/N) started a conversation with him. She was gorgeous, and one of the best things about her was how caring she was. (Y/N) never asked too many questions about his sleep trouble, she just made sure she was able to help in some way. Even if that meant giving Steven his space and not staying over at each others places.

(Y/N) admitted (just to herself) it hurt that she couldn't lay in bed with Steven. They couldn't watch a film snuggled up on the sofa for fear Steven may fall asleep. Although it wasn't the most important thing, (Y/N) did want to sleep with Steven, as in, make love with one another. Not because she was horny, but because she loved him and she felt that sex was another layer of connection between a couple. However, (Y/N) wasn't going to risk pushing Steven away over sex, he meant so much to her.

"Can I come in?"

She had been at his before for dinner, multiple times, but that's when Steven cleared away the sand and hid his leg shackle under the bed. He totally forgot about that as he invited her in, eyes popping out of his head when he turned around after closing the door. It was too late, she had already seen it.

"Steven, what's this?" she asked, not sure how to take it.

"It's...it's for the sleep, I swear! I used to get up in the middle of the night, end up hurting myself. And, and the sand is to see if I have stepped out of bed. Oh, and this," he held up the crumpled blue tape in his hand,"I put this on the door so I can figure out if I've left the flat."

"You do all this because of your sleep habits?"

Shit, shit, shit, this was it. (Y/N) was going to think he was a freak, she didn't see how crazy he was. He could envision it now. She was going to rapidly pick up her things and scurry out of there, deleting his number and him out of her life forever. He couldn't lose her, she was the best thing in his life right now.

Steven was wary as she slowly approached him, he had no idea what she was going to do or what her reaction would be. (Y/N) looked upset, and he didn't know what that meant. She snaked her arms around his waist, cuddling him close as she rested her head on his chest.

"I'm so sorry Steven. You should have told me about this, I could have helped...somehow."

Steven was so relieved, instantly hugging her back. He didn't realise how much he needed a hug right now. (Y/N) rubbed circles on his back, soothing the tension away. How had he found someone so perfect?

"What? She's not running away? Steven, you've literally found the ideal woman. Either that or she's as crazy as you and me."

"So, you're not running away?" Steven squeaked out.

She squeezed him."No you donut. I'm staying, and I'm going to help. In future, just let me know when you need help, OK?"

"I will."

"So, I was thinking, since I'm here, maybe I could stay over?"

(Y/N) had just come out with it, she had been so nervous about asking. It was a sensitive subject, but she knew she had to just ask, otherwise it would never happen. The wait felt far too long as she saw Steven thinking about it. No, don't banc down now, see what he says!

"You're taking too long to answer buddy."

"Yeah, yeah why not? As long as you're OK with my...sleep habits."

(Y/N) grinned as soon as he agreed, and Steven couldn't ignore that. There was guilt creeping up. It was normal for couples to stay with one another, he kept avoiding that. He just hoped that Marc would take a break this evening and actually let him sleep. Now all he was worrying about was (Y/N) actually being here.

"Uh, I'm afraid the place is a bit messy, I haven't had much time to clean up. And I don't have any food for us."

"Oh, I mean, I can stay another night-"

"No, I didn't mean for you to go away! I, I was just, um, trying to cover myself, like, just explain why my life is such a mess."

She giggled."So dramatic. Why don't we just order a takeaway, and if you want we can tidy up the place whilst we wait?"

He nodded, surprised when he quickly pecked him on the lips. (Y/N) went to grab her phone, looking up where was best to order from. Steven quietly excused himself to the bathroom, letting out a breath as he locked the door. He had to calm down, he was going to have a heart attack otherwise.

"Steven."

Marc startled him, making Steven whip around to look in the mirror. Marc didn't look impressed.

"Would you stop stressing, you're going to start sweating."

"How can I not stress? You're here with me, (Y/N) has shown up, and we've never spent the night together."

"Never?"

"No!"

"She seems sweet, she's gorgeous too."

"Oi, don't look at her, alright? What if I do something wrong?"

"If she's stuck around after seeing the leg shackle, I think you can't do anymore wrong."

"Babe, you want the usual?" (Y/N) called.

"Yeah love, yeah that would be great. Thank you."

"Right, you're going to go out there and have a nice evening, simple as. I don't know why you're acting like this."

"Because I love her!"

Steven started to smirk."You haven't told each other yet, have you?"

"No, didn't want to scare her away."

"Again, I think she would have run after the restraints."

"Yeah, you're right. I've faced monsters and bad guys, this will be a piece of cake."

Marc politely nodded, not wanting to crush Steven's tiny bit of confidence. Steven was smiling to him, straightening out his top and tidying up his hair. He missed Marc shaking his head as Steven left the bathroom, seeing (Y/N) already starting the dishes he had left.

"You didn't have to do those." He said as he stood next to her.

"You look like you need some help babe. No offence."

Steven was hesitant, but he wrapped one arm around her waist, hesitantly kissing the side of her head. She knew he was still new to PDA, so this was very sweet of him. Leaning into his embrace, she almost squealed when he rested his head on top of hers. When he suggested drying up, (Y/N) told him to leave it, drying her own hands before guiding him to the sofa.

"Can I ask about the shackle? Like, how did you decide to use one?"

"I don't know really." they sat opposite each other, but their legs were tangled up, holding hands still."It just got really bad at one point, I was a danger to myself."

"That's terrible. So you've been going through this by yourself?"

He nodded.

"Well, I'm here now. I'm going to help you. Everyone deserves a good night sleep."

"Oh, sweetheart you don't have any of your things with you!"

(Y/N) glanced down at her clothes, almost smacking her hand over her face in stupidity."Ah, yeah, well, I wasn't really expecting to stay."

"You can borrow my stuff if you like."

"Is that OK?"

"Yeah. I'm sure I've got a spare toothbrush too, don't really fancy using the same one do you?"

"No, not really. Thank you babe." she leaned over to kiss him."Do you mind if I get changed into something comfier now?"

"Yeah, yeah. Uh, let me, let me find something for you."

Although he had offered his clothes, he had no idea what to give to her. A t-shirt was fine, maybe a jumper to throw over if she was cold, but what about the bottom half? He only had a spare pair of jogging bottoms, and though they would be huge in her, it was the best he could do. He couldn't deny he was excited to see her in his things, she was going to look so cute.

And once she emerged from the bathroom, he couldn't help but shyly smile at her."You look adorable."

(Y/N) flet herself blushing, he was too cute."If you say so babe. I'm glad you think that anyway."

Marc kept quiet as the couple spent time together, observing Steven's behaviour. He was still dorky and shy, but it was as if they had been together for years. Steven sometimes made bold moves, kissing her randomly, pulling her back into hugs, playing with her hair, they even fed each other; he hadn't seen him this confident before.

Steven did the washing up this time, glancing back at (Y/N) on the sofa, who had now picked up a book to flip through. He caught Marc staring at him in a nearby mirror.

"So, things are going well."

Steven didn't reply, not wanting to look crazy in front of his girlfriend.

"OK, I know you're not going to speak to me but I can feel your heart beating and it doesn't sound healthy. You're just sleeping beside each other, it's not like she's expecting you to have sex."

Steven fumbled with the plate he was holding, quickly recovering before throwing a smile at (Y/N).

"You've got a good one here, Steven. She's in love with you."

It felt weird to hear Marc being sentimental. Why was he being so supportive? Wouldn't he want (Y/N) out of the picture to make it easier for him? But that word, love, Steven wasn't sure if it was the right time. Especially after the things she had seen in his flat.

Steven heard her yawn, looking over his shoulder to see (Y/N) snuggling deeper into the oversized jumper. He remembered she had been at work all day, she hadn't had a day off yet. He wasn't tired, seeing as he slept all day, but he would pretend to be to let her sleep sooner.

"Tired?"

She lazily nodded as she rubbed her eyes."Sorry, long day."

"Don't apologise. We can get snuggled up if you want."

"Snuggled up? Really?"

"Aren't you wide awake?"

"Nah, I can nap. Or I could read for a bit whilst you sleep. I've got a night light I can use."

(Y/N) stood up, stretching as she spoke."Steven Grant, you are the most adorable and sweetest thing I have ever seen."

He blushed, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. (Y/N) kissed him again before going to brush her teeth, the pair sharing a shy smile before closing the door. Steven rushed to the bed, wondering how on Earth he was going to get rid of all the sand in more or less two minutes. He tried to scoop some up into a cereal bowl but there was too much. He froze when he heard the door open.

"What are you doing?"

"Um, I'm trying to get rid of the sand. For you."

Did this man have any faults? (Y/N) walked over, resting a hand on his back."You don't have to do that. If it helps you then we'll leave it."

"You sure? What if you forget and step in it?"

"It's just sand babe, I can brush it off."

"Thanks. That's really nice of you."

They settled into bed, both a bit sheepish about the ordeal. Why were they stressing? They were adults, two adults who were dating and simply sharing a bed. Nothing was going to happen. Well, Steven hoped nothing would happen, he didn't want to freak (Y/N) out.

He couldn't help but watch as she sat up in bed to take off the jumper, the t-shirt underneath riding up below her bra line. His head whipped away from her once she had taken it off, trying to think of something else. (Y/N) laid down, pulling the duvet up as she buried herself in it. Steven was also under the covers, but had picked up a book from the bedside table, as well as his glasses.

"I love your glasses. You should wear them more often."

Steven chuckled softly."I think I look a bit like a nerd."

"And that's a bad thing? It's cute, yet sophisticated and handsome at the same time."

"Thanks. Perhaps I will wear them more."

"You sure about staying up? I can stay awake for a bit."

"You're shattered love. I don't mind. This is how I spend my evenings anyway."

(Y/N) hesitated before speaking, looking up at Steven with her big eyes."Could we maybe cuddle up whilst you read? You can always push me off if you want."

"And why would I do that?"

(Y/N) shimmied up to him as Steven lowered himself. She rested her head on his chest, one arm draped over his stomach. Steven had an arm around her back, the other holding his book.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Yeah. I might have to request sleeping like this every night."

"Would you want to stay over again?"

"Are you asking me to?"

"I think so."

"Don't feel forced Steven. I mean, I would love to spend more nights with you."

"Then that's settled then, innit?" he placed a kiss on her forehead, mbefore reaching down and kissing her lips."Goodnight love."

"Goodnight. Don't stay up too late."

Steven had been reading for a while, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles on her back. She was asleep in minutes. He had to pause his reading a few times to check she was actually breathing she was so quiet. Like always, he didn't feel tired at all, giving up on reading and instead stroking back (Y/N)'s hair.

He wanted to continue this relationship. He really did love her, he had to admit it. However, he didn't want to say it out loud in case he jinxed it. This whole situation with Marc was so complicated and crazy, he didn't know how to go about it.

"Relax, for one night."

Marc was right. He had to at least enjoy this night with her. Leaning over to the lamp, he turned it off, cautiously lying down with (Y/N). She stirred but didn't wake. She held him tighter, wrapping one leg over his. And he didn't panic, Steven embraced it, holding her close.

Steven felt like he had blinked and woken up, though he was used to feeling tired all the time. A smile instantly appeared on his face as (Y/N) woke. Her hair was messy, eyes puffy, yet she was still the most beautiful thing Steven had ever seen.

"Good morning." Steven whispered.

She propped herself up to properly see him."Morning. How did you sleep?"

She had just woken up and her first thought was him.

"Better, still not great though."

"That's still good though babe, better than having a terrible night sleep. And you didn't use the shackle."

"Oh, I totally forgot about that."

"See? There's some progress already."

She slid off him so they were laying side by side, facing each other.

"You're amazing, do you know that?" Steven gushed.

"What? Why?"

"Because, you just are. Someone else might have ran away when they saw what state I was in. But you stayed."

"Yeah, well that's because I-" (Y/N) stopped herself, she was easily going to say it. Oh well, might as well come out with it."Because I love you."

Steven's breath got caught in his throat. She said it. She just said it. She loved him. (Y/N) loved him. Marc could have laughed at Steven's expression, almost wanting to nudge him to say something back before she thought he didn't feel the same.

"I love you." Steven replied, taken back when she dove forward to kiss him.

Their kiss was passionate and long, though Steven kept his hands in a respectable place, and (Y/N) decided against straddling him, no matter how tempting it was. They were breathing heavier when they finally parted, lips feeling puffy, bodies feeling hot.

"I love you." Steven said again.

"I love you."

"It feels good to say that."

"Have you been wanting to say that for a while?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Me too."

They giggled together. They felt like teenagers.

(Y/N) gave him a peck on the lips before sitting up."Mind if I go have a shower?"

"Course."

As she stood, Steven's eyes widened. In the night she had taken off the joggers, leaving her in just his t-shirt, which had also somehow ridden up over her bum, showcasing the thong she had on. (Y/N) knew it had happened, she just didn't feel the need to fix it; and Steven didn't care if it was on purpose or an accident.

"If you don't join her in the shower, then I will."

#Steven grant #Steven grant imagine #Steven grant imagines #Steven grant one shot #Steven grant x reader #Steven grant fanfic #Steven grant fan fic #Steven grant fanfiction #Steven grant fan fiction #Marc spector #Marc spector imagine #Marc spector imagines #Marc spector one shot #Marc spector x reader #Marc spector fanfic #Marc spector fan fic #Marc spector fanfiction #Marc spector fan fiction #Moonknight #Moonknight imagine #Moonknight imagines #Moonknight one shot #Moonknight x reader #Moonknight fanfic #Moonknight fan fic #Moonknight fanfiction #Moonknight fan fiction #Marvel #Marvel imagine #Marvel imagines

[isawthisangel]

domestic/relationship situations with steven/marc headcanons part two

find part one here

masterlist

word count: 900w

a/n: i will happily write a full length fic for any of these if you guys send me one of the prompts, or any different ones<3

Steven loves to cook and is usually home by the late afternoon, but sometimes when he has more work to do when he gets home and you have to work late, you end up ordering takeout. You guys have a hat with all the different takeouts written on pieces of paper inside for when you can’t decide, which is often.

On weekends you love nothing more than holing up in the flat to binge whole seasons of tv shows. Steven is all over this, making the sofa as cosy as possibly, collecting blankets and snacks and content to sit for hours with your feet in his lap or your head on his shoulder, his arm around you. Marc usually lasts about two episodes before complaining that he’s bored.

You suggest reorganising the bookshelves. This takes weeks. Steven is so meticulous about where his books go, even though it looks like a mess to anyone else, he can find the book he’s looking for in seconds when he needs to. You have your bookshelf, but your books have started spilling over, which is fine as long as they’re in the right section.

Honestly I could write an essay about this. Steven sat cross legged on the floor surrounded by books, stacking them into piles and trying to work out how best to organise them, brow furrowed. You giving up trying to help after a while, realising he has his own, very complicated system. Rearranging the plants and fairy lights around everything when it’s finally done. Smiling whenever he looks at it for the next few days.

Both of the boys like to rant when they’re worked up about something, but the topics on which they tend to get so upset about vary drastically. If Steven is upset about a new display at the museum, or Donna getting his name wrong yet again, Marc will be angry about something going wrong on a mission, stomping and swearing around the flat injured and covered in blood.

Similarly, you have to learn that they can’t be calmed down in the same way. Steven can usually be placated pretty easily by a cup of tea or a shoulder massage, whereas with Marc you have to let him burn out by himself. When he finally collapses into a chair and goes silent, then you can move in and start patching him up best you can, dropping kisses onto his skin at regular intervals until he’s fully relaxed.

Baths. Steven doesn’t usually have a bath, and if he does you’re in there with him. Marc, on the other hand, would live in the bath if you let him. He’ll soak until the water’s cold and all the bubbles are gone, half asleep with a contented half smile on his face. He’d never admit it, but he loves coming home to a bubble bath.

Sometimes when you wake up you find Marc asleep on the sofa, not wanting to have woken you up when he got in from a mission the night before. Despite your protests he continues to do this if he knows you have to be up early the next morning, even though you’d rather be tired and know that he’s come home safe that night.

Similarly to the laundry, you can tell who’s been shopping while you’ve been at work by the contents of the cupboards and fridge and how they’ve been organised. Steven will have a meal plan on the wall and all of the (mostly fresh) ingredients neatly stowed away. Marc will have filled the freezer up, and maybe bought some fruit and veg, if you’re lucky.

Steven one hundred percent gets distracted and dances with you in the kitchen when you cook together. Enough said.

Sometimes you’ll catch Steven before he rushes out the door, ever late, for work to fix his tie or his hair. This isn’t necessarily because it looks bad, you’re just after one more kiss before he leaves. If he’s caught on, he doesn’t say. If you’re fixing Marc’s hair or clothes before he rushes out the door it’s most likely because he’d lost track of time with you in bed that morning. You’ve been late countless times for similar reasons.

‘Laughter is infectious,’ sure, but Steven’s laugh is actually infectious. If he’s laughing, you’re laughing, it doesn’t matter what he’s laughing at or where you are. Similarly, Marc laughs so little that when he does you find yourself smiling regardless, relishing in the sound, trying to memorise it.

Steven is annoyingly good at presents, and you struggle to match the thoughtfulness of his gifts. Marc has a strict no present policy, which you happily disregard during every holiday, knowing that he’ll complain and then smile secretly afterwards, when he thinks you can’t see.

You try to eat breakfast and brush your teeth with whoever it is you wake up to every morning, schedules allowing. It puts you in a good mood in the mornings, and prepares you for the rest of the day. If you get frustrated at work you think about breakfast, or how you get to go home to such a loving environment that night. It usually makes you feel better.

tag list💌 @propertyofkingvalkyriealkyrie @later-gators12

comment to be added ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#moonknight #moonknight fanfic #moonknight fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moonknight imagine #steven grant #steven grant fanfic #steven grant x reader insert #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector #marc spector fanfic #fluff #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff #moonknight fluff #headcanons

[brokebonewritings]

Professor?

Jake Lockley x Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Smut, Language

Summary: Office hours were for questions, and going over materials. Maybe too many questions can lead to an assignment not in the syllabus.

Word Count: 2K

Navigation || Masterlist

“Does anyone have any more questions?” The room was silent. Everyone stared blankly at the professor in front of them.

“Then I guess we are done for today.” Before he could finish the sentence, students (Including yourself) began to pack up and leave. “Don’t forget about chapters 20 and 23. Read them. I won’t forget.”

The professor wasn’t an old man, he certainly didn’t look like it. You always thought he reminded you of Indiana Jones. Of course the only reason you took the class was one: You needed the Social Science credit, and two: he was extremely handsome.

As you slowly approached his desk, you could see he was typing out notes on his laptop.

“Of course, you’re still here” He doesn’t even look up from the computer. “Let me guess, you need to ask a question? Go over the reading?”

“I just wanted to discuss a part of the lesson, Dr. Spector” You reply, it wasn’t a lie, but you always just wanted to talk to him too.

“You know how rare it is that I see students so interested in this topic?” He finally looked up, resting his chin on his hands. “It shows you have talent for the subject. And your work is not bad either. I see the way you take notes, it’s good.”

He sighs loudly, and you smile at him sweetly. It wasn’t the best compliment but it wasn’t a bad one either.

“Do you have any questions, y/n?” He pulls you from your thoughts.

“Are you married?” You bite your lip after realizing what you had just said. He stares at you for a brief moment.

“That’s… an extremely personal question.” He quips “No. I’m not married, or in a relationship, or anything of the sorts.”

You both stand there speechless. He crosses his arms and you play with the hem of your skirt. You cannot believe you just asked a professor this question.

“Why? What makes you think it’s okay to ask someone like me that?” He asks.

“I guess I was just curious?” You quickly reply.

“Ah.. just curious?” He scoffs. “Of course.”

“What?” Was this guy serious right now?

“Oh nothing. It’s just funny. Smart and funny, huh? Your boyfriend must be thrilled.” He chuckles, and then the room goes silent again.

You don’t know why you don’t just leave after that. Obviously this was a horrible interaction, but you feel compelled to stay. Not that the conversation is benefiting anyone or anything other than your tiny crush.

“So let me ask you this, when I’m teaching this material and everyone is staring blankly at the wall, or taking notes.. What are you paying attention to?” He smirks. He knows the real answer.

“I- I don’t know” You stammer. Playing dumb. Nice. Like he couldn’t read you a mile away.

“Oh, of course… You don’t know.” He tuts you for a moment. “Why do you look so flustered? It was just a question. I know you’re smart enough to answer.”

“I was paying attention to you…” You finally reply, there’s no use to trying to run away now. He makes his way around the desk, and you notice the smell of his cologne immediately.

It was rich and dark. You notice the scruff on his chin, just light scruff though. He leans in close to you and begins to whisper.

“What about you? Your boyfriend must not notice anything right?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You reply

“Really?” You shake your head in response. 

“I find that very hard to believe. You seem like the type to be married by now. Professionally speaking, of course”

You notice he is staring at you as he takes a step back. The rose tint that is creeping up your neck makes him chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, professor?” You speak suddenly and he smiles.

“Of course not, I was just thinking… about this interaction.” He replies. “I think you’re very stunning… and I think you can return these… feelings.” 

“Then what is this?” You ask and swallow hard.

He stalks closer again.

“Well… My office hours are starting, and nobody is here…” He takes a deep breath inhaling your scent.

“And can anybody see.. Through that window?” You question once more.

“No… no. Nobody can see through that window.” He says as you close the gap between the both of you.

His lips were soft against yours, but his fingers that were sliding down your waist were tense. Neither of you anticipated doing any of this today. Maybe once you had passed the class? But that thought was pushed to the back of your mind.

The kisses were demanding, as the both of you moaned against each other. Once you pulled away, you both sat for a moment to catch your breath.

“I can’t stop myself from kissing you, y/n” He huffed. He pulls away for a moment to gather his laptop and bag, and you notice his eyes grew darker.

“Follow me.” He states as he begins to walk to his office. You follow closely behind him looking around to notice that the hallways were completely empty. Once you both stepped inside, he instructed you to close the door and lock it.

Once you turn around, you notice his jacket has come off and his sleeves were rolled up. You stare at his bicep getting lost in the thought of those being wrapped around your waist.

“Take it off.” His gruff voice catches you off guard. “Come, amore, take it off for me”

The slight accent was new but not enough for you to question if he had always had one. You begin to strip your shirt, taking each button off, one by one. Hearing his moans as he watched you completely strip yourself really set you off. You see him sit in his chair as he continues to watch you.

“Fuck” He says quietly. “Come here and sit down in my lap, princesa”

You obey and step closer to him. Facing him, you straddle his lap as he guides your chin closely to kiss you. The way he kisses and moans into your mouth turns you on instantly. You feel the wetness in your panties beginning to spread as he grips your back and brings you closer.

He quickly pushes you away, making you come off his lap.

“Bend over the desk. I have to taste you, right now.” He demands, you nod and lean yourself over the desk.

Grabbing your hips harshly, he slowly grinds against you almost to tease how hard he had become in such a short time. You hardly notice when he kneels down and rips your panties off. Not that you would need them much longer.

Feeling the hot breath against your core, you whine from the lack of contact. However you do hear the quiet praises you are receiving.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me. Your pussy is dripping.” He says. “You want my tongue on your clit, princesa?”

You whine loudly in response.

“Yeah? Say please, amore” He tuts. “Come on, I know you know how to say please.”

“Please, sir. Please” 

“Fuck, I’m gonna make you cum so hard. All. over. my. desk.” He groans, as he begins to kiss your thighs. Making his way all the way up, teasing you with each kiss.

The sensation made you shake, never in your life had you experienced something like this. The praises you’re receiving and the pet names. Waves came crashing through you mid thought when you felt his hot tongue slide along your clit.

You moan loudly as he continues to suck and lick your soaking pussy. Hearing his moans continuously makes you more wet. 

As you are about to cum, he pulls away. You whine at the loss of contact and warmth. He stands up behind you and grabs your ass suddenly. You moan as he spanks it, the loud smack of his hand against your skin is deafening.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” Another smack. “Fuck. Arch your back, princesa.”

Of course you do as you're told. Presenting yourself for your professor like you have daydreamed about. You hear his belt come undone and the sound of him taking out his cock. Glancing back, you see how massive he is. He notices you swallowing hard, and he scoffs.

“You want my cock in your pussy, amore?” He asks, rubbing it slowly. “Let me give you a little tease, huh?”

Without warning, he places his cock between your thighs and slowly rubs it against your clit. You both moan loudly at the sensation.

“Say please.” He groans. “Beg princessa, Beg for my cock.”

“Please, I need you in my pussy. Pleaaase.” You moan

“Good girl, My good pretty girl.” He draws out. “Reach your hand down, amore, reach your hand down and push my cock into you.”

Taking your hand, you reach between your thighs and graze your fingers against his member before pushing his head into you. He moans and throws his head back as he slowly begins to push into you. The groans and sharp inhales make you push against him as he bottoms out.

“Aye dios mio, amore, te sientes muy bien.” He groans and he begins to pump himself in and out of you. “Fuck, So tight.”

He begins to speed up and you can feel your legs shaking against the desk. You focus on gripping the table as you continue to arch your back. His pace was brutal but it felt so good. Noticing the way his cock pulses inside of you, you remember the lack of protection there was between the both of you.

You moan loudly at that thought when he suddenly stops.

“Flip over.” He demands. “Flip over and sit up a little. I wanna watch you.”

Again, you obey his orders, and turn yourself around. You wrap your arms around his neck and slowly lean in to kiss him. He moans against your lips as he begins to fuck you again. As he moves against you, you push back and your pussy clenches earning a grown from the man.

You can feel him start to stutter as his orgasm approaches. The exhales from his lungs were forceful with pleasure. Your swollen clit was beginning to overstimulate from the pressure being pushed against it.

“Professor Spector, I can’t take it much longer.” You groan and he growls. 

“Oh amore, I’m about to come. I’m about to come inside you.” He continues to push into you. “Want that? Want my cum inside you?” 

“Ah, Ah, Yes, Come inside me.” Your eyes are half lidded, and it’s getting harder to keep them open. Suddenly his hand grabs your cheeks and squeezes.

“Look at me while you come. Look at me, now” You open your eyes and see his face for the first time. He has such beautiful hard features. Seeing his eyebrows furrow and focus on you gives you your release. In an instant the both of you are coming.

You both sit there a moment to catch your breath. When you both realize the seriousness of what just happened, you laugh.

“Look at that amore, my cock is still so deep inside.” You moan as he pushes a little before taking out his cock. “Oh, all that cum going to waste. Let me help with that.”

His long fingers scoop the cum dripping onto the desk and pushes it right back into your pulsing pussy. You moan loudly as you hear the obscene squelching of his fingers inside you.

“You like that? Being full of my cum? My thick fingers pushing it back in where it belongs?” He moans, and pumps his fingers in and out, bending to find your gspot. His thumb rubbing against your clit, as an orgasim begins to build up again.

Your loud moans could probably be heard throughout the halls. Not that anyone was listening. The pit in your stomach was slowly filling with pleasure once again, and it wasn’t long before you began to pulse and squirt cum onto his hand.

“That’s right princesa, let it all out. Don’t be shy.” He praises as you catch your breath.

“Professor?” You question.

“Hm?”

“Can I get extra credit on this assignment?” You smirk. And his face goes blank.

“How about we clean you up, and then we can talk about some extra credit.”

#moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x you #jake lockley #marc spector x you #marc spector imagine #steven grant #marc spector #moonknight imagine #marvel #professor au

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning

STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!

main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.

CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.

CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.

CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?

CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?

CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?

CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.

CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

CHAPTER ELEVEN -

CHAPTER TWELVE -

CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!

#moonknight x reader #moonknight fanficiton #marc spector x reader #mary palmer #moonknight imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant imagine #marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #Jake lockely fanfiction #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac x reader #oscar issac fic #marvel x reader #marvel #smut #steven grant smut #marc spector smut

[keenzinemugstudent]

Okay but has anyone made a sub Steven Grant x Tall reader, maybe the moon boys x tall reader story yet or I'm just looking hard enough? I would write it but lord I can't id faint form embarrassment

#moonkight #moonknight x reader #black reader #chubby reader #marc spector x you #jake lockely x you #steven grant x y/n #y/n being y/n #sub steven grant #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight imagine #moon knight x reader #Moonknight x black reader #Black reader #layla el faouly #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #jake lockely smut

[mikrowrites]

fate goes pt. 6

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n is reunited with someone she never thought she’d see again; as shait and khonshu fight against ammit, y/n, marc, and steven fight to stop harrow

warnings: angst, fighting, violence, fluff, language, dark themes, death, EPISODE 6 SPOILERS

a/n: the last part! thank you so much for the love for the series! also warning, this deals with someone dying in a hospital, so if that’s a trigger be warned!

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” - fate goes, the ninth hour

Y/n pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, humming a gentle lullaby as she sat next to the bed, her other hand grasping that of the patient.

Her internship at the hospital brought her to the hospice wing, where death surrounded her daily. Yet, she knew in her gut that their times were set and she couldn’t change it; instead she could respect the process and the execution of fate.

Y/n had begun to believe in fate as her studies in medicine continued. Science was factual, but fate was sacred. It was unmoving and constant, and perhaps that was a comfort to her in a way.

She continued her humming, gently rubbing herself the patient’s hand as they slumbered. Unlike many other patients, this one had no family photos, no flowers or gifts or get well balloons. Y/n had noticed this and found herself frustrated by the idea of a patient seeing the end of their days alone. So she had sat for hours with them, awaiting their fate.

“You care so much, don’t you child?”

Y/n gasped, the chair screeching across the linoleum as she bolted upwards. The patient’s eyes were open, glowing a golden light, their lips moving with every word. She backed away slightly, her voice quivering. “Who-who are you?”

The patient cocked their head to the side. “You’re a curious one, Y/n L/n. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You care for people so much, yet you don’t fear death. Curious indeed.”

“What do you want from me?” Y/n asked quietly. 

The patient’s head turned to face her, the golden eyes boring into her. “How rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself.”

The gold flickered out, as well as the lights as the room was plunged into darkness. Y/n used her arms to cover herself, as if the room were to implode into her, crushing her. Her breathing was erratic as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Don’t be scared child. Open your eyes.” 

Y/n slowly lowered her arms, as a hand rested gently under her chin, guiding her gaze upwards. She met the gaze of a seemingly humanoid person, decked in gold and jewels. Below the waist was a serpents tail, the scales shining with every movement as the being cracked a smile. “I am Shait, the god of fate and fortune.”

She was shell shocked, staring up at the god in their splendor. All she could muster out was a quiet peep of: “Hi.”

The god seemed amused, “You are the most unusual being I have ever met, Y/n.”

“Is um, that in a good way or a bad way?” Y/n questioned. 

“A good way, I assure you.” The god responded. “What do you know of the gods of Egypt?”

She shrugged, a little less tense. “Not much, sorry.”

“The gods are very much around and existing in your modern human world, but we do not interfere with earthly events. We instead rely on avatars to carry our will.” Shait explained. “We look for those who exemplify our morals and relish our beliefs. You, Y/n L/n, are who I am looking for. You are kind but resolute. Gentle but passionate. Intelligent and level-headed. You accept the tides of life and how the rivers of fate flow.”

“What does this mean?” Y/n seemed to plead. 

Shait faced Y/n. “Y/n L/n, I want you to be my avatar.”

“Me?” She sputtered, her brain clouded with confusion. “I can’t be the best choice.”

“I have seen billions of people on this earth, read their hearts and seen their inner thoughts. You are the best choice. We can allow peace to those who fate commands, and allow for the fortune to bless those who deserve it.” The god spoke. 

“Y/n L/n, will you be my harbinger of fate, my disciple of fortune, and guide to those who pass through the river of life? Will you protect fate with you might and see to the people around you justly, to become my avatar?” 

She thought for a moment, before meeting the gaze of the god. 

“Yes. I will.”

Suddenly she was plunged backwards into darkness, flinging out her arms and crying out as the void swallowed her whole, a warm feeling blossoming in her chest as she felt her retinas burning with a spectacular light. Her body fell backwards down, down, down, her limbs flailing for some kind of control. 

Y/n sat up with a start, gripping the side of the hospital bed as she breathed heavily, gathering her bearings. She gasped, holding out her hands as she watched her veins course with golden light. 

“Go on. Rest your two fingers upon their forehead.” 

She perked up at Shait’s voice in her ears, turning to the patient as Y/n realized the room was filled with the sound of a monitor flatlining. She reached forwards, pressing her index and middle finger onto the patient’s forehead, Y/n’s eyes glowing as suddenly numbers began to appear in her vision, counting like a time clock until they finally clicked into place. 

Y/n stepped backwards, the golden glow dimming before disappearing from her eyes and veins. She exhaled, before wetting her lips. 

“Time of death, 3:25 AM.”

Y/n soared through the night sky of Cairo, her golden feathers gleaming in the moonlight. Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

Three large gods grappled slowly with each other, Khonshu and Shait vs Ammit. Y/n was almost in awe watching it, if it weren’t for the fact she needed to find Harrow and end this once and for all. 

Her peripheral caught a glow of purple, Y/n immediately positioning her wings to dive down into the streets, setting her sight on Harrow. She soared down, positioning her body as she rammed her feet forwards, slamming them into the man as she sent him flying. She cast her eyes down to see a figure on the ground before her feet, suddenly her mind reeling in recognition. 

The Moon Knight, Marc Spector, looked up at her in a reverie, the girl fixing him with a smirk as he uttered her name. “Y/n?”

Oh if they weren’t in a war, Shait would be chewing her out on this one. 

Harrow stood angrily, directing a blast of purple light from his cane to her. Y/n turned to him, using her golden wings to shield herself, instead sending the blast back into him. sending the man tumbling back. She glared at Harrow before letting the wings retract, lowering her arms. 

Y/n barely had time to turn before she was met with Marc, his face revealed, racing to her. “Y/n! Y/n, oh baby.” He pulled her into his arms, the woman grasping for him like a lifeline. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“Marc.” She sputtered out, the man pulling away to hold the sides of her head in his hands, taking in every aspect of her. “How’d you get back?”

Suddenly Steven took control, looking her up and down. “Wow, you look amazing! What are you wearing?”

Y/n smiled softly at the man, before they turned, noticing Harrow rising from the ground and his men ready for a fight. Steven turned to her excitedly. “Hey, I’m really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have.”

“All right, show me what you’ve got.” she nodded to the men. 

“Yeah?” Steven asked with a gleeful smile.

“Yeah.” Y/n affirmed. 

Both of them dove into action, Steven into a sprint and Y/n soaring forwards, careening into the fight. They both fought against the forces, as their godly counterparts battled above them. 

A while into the fight, Y/n found herself pinned against a car, using one of her wings to shield herself from an onslaught of bullets. She squeezed her eyes shut, the violent clinking of metal invading her hearing until--it didn’t. She looked up to see Marc causing a complete massacre. He cut down man after man, until it was him and Harrow, the man continuing to beat the other avatar down until he was bringing the staff down to his head. “No!” Y/n cried out. 

Suddenly Marc stopped, his body going rigid and the blade of the staff mere millimeters from Harrow’s forehead. The man looked around, seemingly horrified at the scene around him. 

“Marc?” Y/n called, sheathing the wing she was previously using as protection. “What was that?”

“I blacked out.” Marc was confused, his eyebrows furrowing. 

They both suddenly looked up to see Ammit best Khonshu in battle, Shait being thrown to the ground. Y/n’s chest clenched in fear when the god did not rise back up. “Get Harrow. I know how to stop Ammit.” She quickly ordered. 

Marc nodded and grasped Harrow’s shirt in his fist, Y/n leading them as they both soared into the sky, racing to the pyramid to save their gods and their world. 

Once inside, Marc threw Harrow’s body onto a piece of debris, stepping back to Y/n. She sighed, stepping towards them. “The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body. Quick, grab my hand so we can start the spell.”

The man was quick to grasp her hand, relishing for a moment in the familiarity of their touches intertwined, before he followed her lead in reaching their free hands upwards. Y/n’s body jerked slightly as her arm began to glow purple with a sacred energy, Marc the same. And as though they had practiced it every moment of their lives, they began to chant a spell. 

They stopped when Harrow’s eyes opened wide, a voice not of his own emitting from his lips. “You can never contain me. I’ll never stop.”

Y/n and Marc gasped in relief and release when the spell ended, binding Harrow and Ammit. The woman heaved for her breath, feeling Marc’s hand gently on her back as he also regained the air in his lungs. 

“Finish it. And leave neither of them alive.”

Both looked up to see Khonshu tower over them, Y/n feeling Marc stiffen. She looked over to him as she felt his palm leave the small of her back, the man stepping up to Harrow, hovering above him as he unsheathed a blade. Marc gripped the man’s shirt, reeling his arm back to end the task. “I have to finish this. If not, I’ll never be free.”

Y/n stepped forwards, calling out his name. “Marc!”

Marc turned to look back at her, lowering his arm slightly. She stepped forwards, resting her hands carefully and softly on his limb which tightly grasped his blade. It was then he noticed Shait standing some feet from them, watching idly as their avatar spoke once more. “You have a choice. You are free. This is your chance to determine your fate.”

“The fate is vengeance.” Khonshu chided. “We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound like her.” Marc responded to the god, letting Harrow’s body drop. Y/n lowered her hands away, allowing the man to approach his god. “You want them dead... do it yourself.”

Shait lowered their head in acknowledgment. “Fate goes, Marc Spector.” 

Marc nodded to the god, before turning to Khonshu. “Now release us.”

Khonshu turned, meeting the cold stare of Y/n. The god took note of how the avatar of Shait could pose a threat; whether it be her control of fate and fortune or her fierce, protective love of Marc. He looked to Shait, as if to ask the fate of this outcome. The god simply nodded. 

He turned to Marc. “As you wish.” 

Y/n watched as the control of Khonshu began to wash from Marc, the room building up into a blinding light. Marc caught one last glance of the love of his life before he was thrown into his head once more. 

His eyes flicked open, dim sunlight cracking through the windows as he gathered his surroundings. Marc once more laid in his bed, in his flat in London. He sat up groggily, speaking up. “Steven? You there?”

“Mmmhmm.” Steven tiredly responded, the men taking in the room around them as though it would disappear at any moment. “Can’t believe it worked.”

The man was quickly frightened by a sudden movement next to him, turning to his left. His face softened, Marc taking over the body as he stared down next to him, a slight smile on his face. Y/n turned over in the bed towards him, her eyes fluttering open as a yawn escaped her mouth. “You’re both so loud, five more minutes of sleep please?”

Marc chuckled, leaning forwards and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Sorry. We’ll make you some breakfast then, yeah?”

Y/n smiled blissfully, her eyes closing as she snuggled up into the blankets. “Sounds amazing.”

He smiled back, before standing from the bed and muttering to Steven. “I can’t believe you live in this fricking mess. Y/n’s gonna whoop your a--”

Suddenly his ankle restraint pulled against the frame, knocking the man over and off his feet, slamming into the ground. He looked up briefly, groaning in pain. Quiet giggles could be heard from the bed behind him, and though he was annoyed and his body hurt like hell, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

Looks like Y/n’s fortune-luck-shit didn’t rub off on him. 

Harrow was shoved into the limo, letting out a laugh at the sight before him. “Khonshu. You can’t hurt us.”

Khonshu sat across from him, a pressed white suit clothed him as he sat cross-legged, casual before the trapped goddess. However, it was the person next to Khonshu that Ammit noticed with curiousity. 

She sat next to the god, seemingly human, yes, must be an avatar. Her eyes glowed a shining gold, her veins running like rivers under her skin and coursing with the same glowing hue. She was expressionless, her glowing empty eyes boring holes into Harrow. 

“Yeah. You wanna know something?” Khonshu spoke. “Marc Spector truly believed that after he and I parted ways, we would be done. That I’d be done with her?” He gestured to the girl. 

Harrow rolled his eyes, making the talking motion with his hand annoyedly. Yet something unnerved Ammit as the girl narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Why would I ever need anybody else when he has no idea how troubled he truly is?” Khonshu remarked. “And don’t worry; Y/n isn’t home right now. She won’t know a thing that happens here.”

“Ah... Shait’s doing.” Harrow noted, the girl, Y/n, raising her fist up to knock on the window, as if giving a cue. 

“Meet my... friend,” The girl spoke in a foreign voice. “Jake Lockley.”

The divider in the limo rolled down, revealing Marc Spector. But no, this was not Marc Spector, Ammit saw that clearly. He was different. This man--this was anger, vengeance, and violence incarnate. Jake spoke in a dark tone, the Spanish rolling off his tongue. “Today is your turn to lose.”

Jake raised a gun, giving a sickening smile as Harrow and Ammit begged him to wait, to reason. 

Y/n did not flinch as the gun went off, splattering a minimal painting of blood onto her face. She leaned forwards, her fingertips glowing as she rested them upon the mutilated forehead of the body, her eyes seeming to glow even brighter, her veins like a golden fire. “It is done.” She spoke to Khonshu. 

The limo drove off, with a fate met. 

#moonknight imagine #moonknight x y/n #moonknight x reader #moonknight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x avatar!reader #moon knight imagines #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #marc spector x avatar!reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x reader

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Homecoming

Title: Homecoming

Part 8 of Scribe of the Gods Series: Epilogue Pt. 1

Pairing: Steven grant x gn reader (platonic), Marc spector x gn reader (platonic)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6k

Description: Many months after the attack of Cairo, Marc and Steven have done their best to return to normalcy. While doing so, they await for the return of the Scribe, who had been away during this time to help the Ennead return to its former state. Finally, the scribe is able to return home, with much to discuss.

A/N: .... HI.

It has been... far too long. This was long overdue, and I want to say thank you to those who have been patient. It means so much to me that you all were so willing to wait while I was away, a lot has happened but I genuinely did not want to leave this unfinished. I felt like I had to finish the story. Originally, I wanted to have one single chapter for the epilogue, but I decided that I should split it up as a thank you to those who were patient. I hope you all enjoy, I'm incredibly rusty and i didn't go back to edit this because i just wanted this out so you guys know what i've had collecting dust for the last few months. 100000 percent promise that i plan to and will most likely go back and edit this, but I really couldn't wait to throw this out there. Love you all. RAHHHHHH

London library has felt more empty in the last six months now that it has one less presence. Taking the weekly trips to the library just wasn’t what it used to be for Steven, who often took the trip to rotate his book cycles for his nightly readings. Now that y/n had gone off to all ends of the earth on behalf of the Ennead, there was no one to carry the same conversations the unlikely duo had prior. Steven didn’t blame y/n or feel any ill towards them leaving him and Marc and the life they had in London. In fact all he had was pride for them. They had a big job to accomplish, judging from everything they’d told him with all of the letters they’d sent to his and Marc’s flat. Writings on postcards that served as a reminder that the scribe thought of them, that they were still around in his life.

Despite their loud absence, Steven still kept the habit of visiting the library, but not under the same urgency as before now that he was no longer as afraid of wandering about under the night sky as he was before. His relationship with Marc had finally found balance. The man no longer stayed awake at night , fearful of ending up in obscure places. Marc promised Steven that now that they were no longer serving Khonshu there was no more reason for him to leave the apartment during the night to go on missions. Steven was relieved to find this out, as it meant that he was able to put himself to ease during the night, and now he got to read for his own pleasure rather than a desperate attempt to remain awake. 

Not only that, but Steven managed to get a job at the museum- thanks to Marc’s help- as a tour guide. He needed to refresh his knowledge of Egyptology and the library had a large selection of books for him to choose from. 

Steven thanked the librarian, a rather stern sort of woman who liked to drone on and on about herbs, picking up his books with a little polite nod, and made his way out towards the exit. He paused a few steps in, looking back at the desk once more with memories of the conversations he and y/n had floating in his head.

He gave a sigh. Thank goodness they were coming back soon.

He couldn’t wait.

One last look and he made his way out of the door and into the London streets.

—----

It’s been too long since y/n stepped foot in the London Library. Six months. Give or take. They’d stopped bothering to keep track after the numerous tasks they’d completed on behalf of the Ennead. For whatever it’s worth, the six months were filled to the brim with ensuring the gods’ work in the mortal realm ran smoothly. 

The first few weeks were the worst of it. When the temple had just fallen and all the avatars had died there was nothing short of utter chaos. All of the gods were adamant for y/n’s help, insecure that they no longer had a human vessel to be able to oversee their work; they insisted that they were the first to receive the young thing’s assistance. Y/n did what they could to assist the individual gods, trying to tend to their needs in a matter of urgency rather than agreeing to any given moment.

They had to be firm about their servitude, Osiris told them after a meeting gone poorly- one of the gods had complained over y/n’s unavailability to help their request. But Osiris vouched for y/n and reprimanded the god for expecting y/n to waiting for a job to simply be handed to them, they were a human child, Horus. Where are your children now that we are all scrambling to get back on our feet?- they need to be mindful that the gods can forget themselves in their place of power. The god told the human scribe that as they continued their service and aid the gods, they had to prioritize what work needed to be accomplished. If a god came to them with a mundane task that could wait, y/n was allowed, even encouraged, to tell the god that the job will be done later. 

“If they have a problem with it, tell them that they can come discuss it with me.” Osiris would tell them this time and time again. He wanted to make certain that the scribe didn’t overwork themselves or felt the need to always say yes. And y/n took this advice, and had to use it many times, but they were grateful to have a god look out for them the way Osiris did.  

While the gods were generous enough to allow y/n an opportunity to work outside of the library, the only issue that came from this  was that y/n had no reliable place to stay. On normal accounts, before the collapse of the Ennead and their temple due to the demise of Ammit, they were able to rest between councils within the chambers of the temple. They’d find a little corner far enough where no one could disturb them and catch up on sleep while the avatars drank and caught each other up in their lives outside of ceremonial duties. 

Such was not the case anymore. All that resides in the chambers now are the ghosts of the avatars and the destruction of Ammit. Neither suitable company for the scribe to stay as they worked for the gods.

Despite all the time that'd passed, the chambers still suffered from Ammit’s destruction. Not as badly as before as every now and then y/n would lift random debris out of the way as a way to pass time, but even they didn’t have the technical skills to completely reform the chambers to what it once was. 

But six months had passed since the events of Cairo. Why was it that the pyramids and the realm of the ennead was yet to be restored? One day, amidst the gods after completing several tasks for them, the scribe inquired about this as they sat on a loose stone. Horus, in all his questionable glory, answered to the scribe. Without proper avatars, the gods had no ability to fix the destruction as they lacked a physical form. They needed humans.

Y/n thought that was bullshit, if they were being honest. They were literal gods. Why did they need an avatar’s body to be able to fix the chambers? Couldn’t a simple snap make it all better?

Whatever. It was not their place to question the gods, despite their obscurities and lack of explanations. Eventually, the chambers’ reconstruction finally started. It took longer than it should have when very few followers came for the call of Horus to aid in reconstruction, but progress was still being made. 

So, with construction happening at the temple it meant that y/n was unable to reside in the rubble of the chambers anymore. Instead, they spent their off hours in between hotel rooms and air bnbs. They didn’t mind it though, they finally had a proper bed and had a decent meal that consisted of something other than the Molokhia the gods had given them for the last six months. But really, to y/n, anywhere was better compared to staying in the london library. 

There was no point renting an apartment space when the gods started to send them to the ends of the earth for all sorts of missions. Whether it be recruiting a potential candidate for one of the gods, or scavenging artifacts stolen from the temple, the scribe had more on their plate than they’d anticipated and had no time to settle in one place for very long. They didn’t complain. The gods gave them the means to pay for living arrangements and for meals, and the pay was better than the one they received from working for the library. 

Six months. Six months was a long time, now that they thought about it. 

Thank the gods they were finally able to go home now. 

—-----

Now that they thought about it, the first time y/n had been to Steven and Marc’s apartment they weren’t even invited in. Should they knock? 

They stood in front of the door, but weren't sure how Steven and Marc would react to them suddenly showing up the day before they were supposed to. The two men were expecting y/n to show up the next day. They’d even insisted on picking them up at the airport and going out for lunch. Well, that was the original plan. Until the gods had decided to let y/n leave earlier out of gratitude and granted them a portal to anywhere they desired, it was only natural that they decided to end up at the front steps of the system’s apartment. A little surprise visit doesn’t hurt anyone, right? 

The scribe straightened up, realizing they’d spent too long standing idle at the door and needed to make a move. They raised their fist and rapped on the door several times. And when no one answered they waited a few more moments before knocking once more. 

Hm. No one was home. y/n uncomfortable shifted in place, waiting a little longer to make sure that no one was actually home before they began deciding their next move. Should they stay in place and wait for the men to come home? Would that be too awkward? Having the men walk into their apartment floor and find the young adult sitting on the space next to their door? Would it just be better to leave altogether and try to come back later? What if they miss the men again? They could always go, but the question is where? It’s not like they have a place to stay nor anywhere that seemed decent enough to crash, and-

“y/n?”

The voice from across the hall snapped y/n out of their thoughts almost immediately. Steven, in all his glory, stood at the space of the elevator that’d just opened. He stared at the scribe as though he’d unable to perceive that they were actually there. 

y/n faltered a moment, unexpected at the sight of the man faster than they were anticipating, and gave Steven a small smile, a little embarrassed that at the end of it they did just loiter in steven’s space like they didn’t want to.

“Hey, Steven.” They greeted him warmly. 

The gift-shopist turned tour-guide seemed to stumble in his words as an incoherent string of words fell numb to y/n’s ears. They tried to give him an encouraging smile, walking to steven’s space in the elevator as he remained frozen in place. Too frozen, in fact, as the door of the elevator began to shut with him still inside. 

“Uh, the door-” y/n jumped in their place, arm outstretched for the door though the gift shopist stuck their arm through in time to alert the motion detector. The doors stretched open as did Steven’s arms as he took y/n in for a big hug, which they happily reciprocated. It was the kind of hug where they teetered in place very slowly, taking in each other’s presence after months of being apart, 

“What’re you doing here so early?” Steven asked between breathy chuckles, slowly  pulling y/n away from him, they took a good look at the man and realized he’d sported a light stubble. “Ain’t we’s supposed to pick you up tomorrow?”

The scribe gave them a warm smile. “The Ennead let me go early!”

“Hmm. Are you sure it was ‘cause they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.” y/n didn’t miss the sly smirk steven sported.

“Shut up.” They retorted, lightly pushed Steven’s shoulders. “Just be happy I wanted to come back.”

The gift shopist grabbed at his shoulder and glanced at the doorstop, “Is that all you’ve brought with ye? Let me help you.” He of course was referring to the two duffel bags of y/n’s personal belongings that sat at his doorstep. For six months they’d lived off of everything in the bags and it was painfully obvious from the wear and tear of the bags themselves. Before they could insist that they could carry the items Steven already had his hands on the bags and was looking through his keys for his front door. 

The door flew right open in a matter of moments and Steven stepped to the side, grinning at the scribe as he gestured for them to go ahead. 

“Right, come on in. Make yourself at home”

—------

No matter how many times they’d reassured Steven that really, they didn’t mind, Steven profusely apologized for the state of his apartment. He droned for a few moments stating that with his new job he’d not had the time to tidy up nor did Marc want to clean after Steven, (“He says I’m in charge of cleaning up my own mess. The nerve of ‘him, talkin’ to me like I’m a child!”) all the while y/n paid little mind and allowed their eyes to wander. Yes, they’d been in the apartment once, but that was many months ago. And it wasn’t like they had the time to take it in back then. Back then, when they were observing Marc and Steven from afar under the orders of a concerned Djehuty. They hummed to themselves, remembering the late nights sitting atop of Marc’s rooftop while listening for any sign of disturbances that could happen to the men. 

Y/n sighed deeply, eyes wandering to the window they used to sit by. It wasn’t that long ago. Look how things have changed. 

From where they sat nestled in a quaint green armchair, y/n felt like they were back in the London Library. Nestled amongst an alarming number of books, manuscripts, a tombstone of forests and papetry. Every nook and cranny of the apartment was filled with paper. All that was missing from the library was the occasional bun-wearing, shushing librarians and underpaid security guards. 

“Did you read all of these?” y/n picked up a loose book resting close to them, lifting the cover to their sight.

Steven responded from his kitchenette, fiddling with three assorted mugs as he kept himself busy making something to drink for the two. “Yeah, more or less.” 

“Huh,” y/n lowered the book, smoothing their fingers across the cover as they glanced again at the books around them. “With all of these books there’s not much use going to the library. You have your own here.”

Steven walked over to the scribe and offered out their drink to them. “ I make a habit of buying books I like after reading them borrowed ones. Keep ‘em here like little trophies, yknow.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people.”

“Yes, I’m one of those people, but at least we’re a reason why you have a job at the library.”

They didn’t miss the amusing smirk that Steven shot their way as he plopped himself into his seat at the armchair opposite of theirs, not before settingy/n’s designated cup on the table in front of them. He took a swing from his own and a silence fell between the two. Doing their best to ignore it, y/n took another moment to discern the gift shopist’s apartment.

Steven must’ve noticed them observing the fish tank that stood loudly in the middle of the apartment, as he shifted in his seat and gestured to the papers that decorated the glass pane. All held up by magnets and were numerous by the numbers. y/n had barely noticed them with their admiration of the two fishes that swam inside. “We kept all your letters. Marc thought putting them up close to the water was a bad idea but I’s quite like them there.”

“Oh,” y/n let out a small smile at this, struck with warmth that the system liked the letters enough to put them up. Like drawings on a fridge. “I didn’t think you’d do that.”

“Of course we would. Marc wanted to know what you were up to, and liked to keep note of where you’s been since you had to be secretive about it.” Steven beamed proudly, standing up to approach the fishtank. 

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” y/n spoke, leaning over to grab their drink that Steven had prepared for them. “This was the best way I could keep in touch.”

During their time in the ennead, y/n was unable to communicate to marc and steven very often. Communication through modern devices were limited due to risks of tracing and exposing their location from those with malintentions. To help their friends know that they were still alive and well, the young avatar developed a habit of sending postcards to the system from locations they were sent to during a mission. Most of them were written with the generic, “I’m having fun’s” and “Wish you were here’s” to maintain obscurity, but y/n never missed a chance to send them so that Marc and Steven could figure out their last whereabouts from where the postcard originated from, and be relieved by the very fact that they were still alive and well. 

 “Wells,” Steven hummed to himself, turning to give the avatar a small smile as he returned to his seat. He had collected several postcards from the fishtank and waved them in the air before dropping them onto the table. Y/n watches the postcards splatter across the table, recognizing the images on the postcards from places they went to during their trip. “You have to tell us about your trips.” 

And so the scribe told Steven about their life the last six months. Giving an explanation to why they were so absent outside of handwritten letters. As they spoke Steven gave them all of his attention, sitting at the edge of his seat, forearms rested on his knees as he leaned in to every word they spoke. They made sure to speak in great detail as they continued, knowing that the gift shopist had waited a long time to be able to hear their experience firsthand. Marc finally made an appearance to make his own comments. Immediately y/n was ecstatic to hear from the marine and they began to catch up amongst themselves like they did with Steven minutes prior. By the time they were finished their mugs were empty and the sun had set.

“They had me go out and find the avatars,” y/n continued telling their story to Marc, pulling out a map from one of their bags and displaying it onto the coffee table. Marc leaned over, eying the jumbled scribbles written all over the world, marked with locations and field notes from your travels. “The gods, they chose their patrons from different parts of the world, Marc. I-I mean, I had to go to the most obscure places, finding these people, I even ended up in Jersey City, of all places looking out for this one girl-”

Marc closed the front door as he watched y/n run to their bag for the map, carrying takeout from a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. At some point during their conversation he proposed that they went to get some food. He chuckled at y/n’s demeanor now that they finally got to take out the map that they said they wanted to show him, gushing over their trips. 

“The Jackals are from Jersey,” Marc sat himself back in the chair, opening up the bag and placing their food onto the table. He lifted up a box, opening it up to make sure that he didn’t get the food switched, “My old man took me to one of their games back when I was a kid.”

He frowned at his food, eyeing the noodles. Steven began looking around the table before reaching his hand back into the bag, shuffling through napkins. “Bollocks, I think they’ve forgot my peppers.” 

“They’re here,” y/n took a small container of peppers from their side of the table and handed it over to Steven, eyes still trained on the marked locations of the map. He gave them an appreciative smile, humming as he opened up the container and poured its contents over the steaming bun bo hue he’d ordered.

He took a large bite of his food as he leaned over to take in the map displayed before him, trying to make sense of the scribbles. “Did you find all of them?”

Y/n nodded, finally reaching to grab their food. They couldn’t help but smile in content at the food when they flipped the box open. “I did. Finding them was the easy part. A lot of them were still distraught and panicked over the fact that the gods were real. One guy was so convinced that someone snuck him drugs and he was having a really bad trip. Other people took the whole thing really well, but a majority of them needed as much help as they could get from assimilating to the concept that an Egyptian god chose them as their patron.”

Marc nodded knowingly at them, “Not everybody is okay with the whole ‘gods are real’ schtick.” 

The scribe stopped looking over their map to gaze at Marc. They hesitated for a moment. It had been a really long time since they’d seen Marc, they realized now that they really had no idea of how he’s been since the attack on Cairo, whether the attack had left him with any mental troubles or injury now that Khonshu’s power was no longer there to speed up his body’s natural healing process. On the topic, y/n was greatly concerned on how Marc and Steven had been handling themselves now that they were no longer indebted to Khonshu. 

Y/n hesitated a moment as they observed Marc, who was keeping himself occupied with his meal now that there was a bit of silence to dwell in. 

Finally, they spoke. They were sure that Marc could be able to hear the hesitence in their voice, but it was too late to stop now. 

“So, how have you been? Like, with Khonshu and everything.” 

Marc said nothing for a moment. Finally, he deeply sighed. He kept his eyes trained on his soup, picking at the noodles with his utensils as he slowly spoke. “I feel much better, I would say”

“Yeah?” Y/n responded. They reached for a napkin laying on the table. 

Marc nodded. He shifted himself to lean forward more on his knees. “Like, you know how we were pretty much forced to serve Khonshu? Well, now that that’s over with, I feel like I can do whatever I want now,” He let out a sort of dry chuckle, seemingly pondering over his own words. “Like, I never understood how limited our life actually was… it feels really… open now, do you understand that?”

He continued, not waiting for the scribe’s response, a look of content written on his face. “Honestly, I feel good about it.”

Marc didn’t sound like he had any doubt about his decision to end the system’s relationship with Khonshu. When he spoke, he sounded so sure of himself and where he was currently, trying to return to normalcy after Cairo. Well, as normal as it can get for people like them, y/n reminded themselves. There was no way that either of their lives would ever be the same. They were forever thrusted into the world of the gods, and even though Marc and Steven had chosen to retire that life, y/n knew very well that they were still a pawn waiting to be used in the eyes of the gods. They just hoped that that would never be the case. For Marc and Steven’s sake, they deserved to have their retirement be undisturbed. 

“That’s,” y/n began, trying to find the courage to speak after realizing they’d remained silent a little too long. They blinked several times. “That’s great. That’s really great. I’m happy for you two.”

Steven beamed at them, shifting in his seat after putting his meal back on the table. “Ye, it is really. I’s been real nice not havin’ any more trouble at work because of that nasty old crow.”

“He caused you both more harm than good,” The scribe nodded knowingly at Steven’s words. 

Steven swallowed another portion of his soup, rubbing off the droplets that trailed from his lips. He cleared his throat, but y/n’s attention was fixated on the napkin he’d dropped on the table. He didn’t wait for the scribe to acknowledge him, but they were able to hear the way he was trying to tread lightly as he spoke.

“Speakin’ of the gods,” He began slowly, waiting a moment to make sure that y/n had nothing to say before he continued, “now that you’re done workin’ for the Ennead, have you put any thought to what you’re going to do with Djehuty?”

It was obvious that this question came to y/n as a surprise when they jolted at the mention of the god. Steven hummed anxiously and raised his hands toward the scribe, profusely apologizing for bringing up the god in question.

“No, no it’s fine,” y/n raised a hand to reassure Steven. “It’s just, it’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Djehuty hasn’t approached me since I first started working for the Ennead, and everyday since then it’s been this waiting game of when he’ll actually show up again. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”

“You still don’t want to see him?” Marc stood up. He stretched his arms into the air briefly before throwing them down again, observing the contents on the table. By this time, all of their food had been finished save for the spring rolls they’d decided to split together. There was one left that sat there for a lot longer than it should have, neither y/n nor marc wanted to be the person to take it out of courtesy. 

“No,” y/n glanced up at Marc. He stood over the scribe with the spring roll offered out to them, they gave him a brief monotonous look before accepting the spring roll from him. They inspected it before taking a small bite. They hummed, scanning the table for peanut butter sauce while Marc began clearing the plates away. 

“Why is it you don’t want to see Djehuty, again?” The utensils clinked in Marc’s hands as he gathered up what he could, swiping his finger into the peanut butter sauce as y/n grabbed the container. He raised it to his mouth to taste and made his way to the kitchenette to dispose the takeout boxes. 

“ ‘cause most likely he’s going to ask me to be his avatar again,” y/n states after swallowing from their bite. The scribe took another bite of the roll, gathering their own mess of napkins and peanut butter sauce and making their way to where Marc was in the kitchen. They spared him a glance as they approached. He had this look on his face that told them that he was choosing his next words carefully. 

They opened Steven’s fridge, eying for a spot before placing the peanut butter sauce somewhere for Steven to taste later. Marc reached for his drink from the countertop, “And what would your response be?”

There’s a pause. And Marc is observing y/n with a look on his face that made them feel like they were being read like an open book. 

y/n straightened themselves up, slowly closing the fridge door to look at Marc with skepticism in their eyes. They had yet to say anything to the ex-marine, but they didn’t have to when the look that they gave him told him that he was pushing a nerve with them. But 

“You’re talking to a guy who’s well-versed in this whole avatar schtick,” He crossed his arms, leaning his weight against the kitchen counter. The man gazed at y/n with a look, “I know coping mechanisms when I see one. Instead of facing Djehuty head-on, you decided to play it safe and hide behind Ennead, but now that you’ve ditched that strategy, you’re still avoiding Djehuty even though you’re technically still his avatar. I just want to know why exactly it is you’re doing that, that’s all.”

y/n turned away from Marc, uncomfortable at the pressing question he’d asked them. They tapped their fingers against their upper thighs in an attempt to dispel the anxiety growing inside of them.

“Its just that,” they began slowly, articulating the feelings they had kept to themselves for so long into words as they spoke. They hadn’t thought that they would share this with anyone this soon, let alone the System. “if I wasn’t his avatar… then what would I even be? I can’t even imagine what I would become. It’s all I've ever known. It’s the reason I’m alive.”

“Well, yeah, its why you were alive the first time.” Marc countered plainly, a resting his face onto his open palm as he had his weight on his knees.  He didn’t miss the glare that y/n had shot him. They didn’t like to be reminded of the whole situation they’d had with Djehuty in the Duat. Although Marc did his best to respect it there were times where he wasn’t shy to tell them how it was. It struck a nerve with them every time he did so. 

“Yeah, cause who wouldn’t want their entire existence defined by being a puppet for an ancient deity. At least I wasn’t dumb enough to be manipulated into it.” 

Marc blinked at y/n’s words. He leaned back slightly, eyes fixated on the scribe as they snapped at him with a hostile air to them. He was unable to see their face as they had turned their head away from him, but he knew deep down that their outburst at him was simply a defense mechanism, a way of protecting themselves from the blunt remarks and sudden pressure to answer questions he’d put them under without warning. Marc didn’t blame them for lashing out in such a way, he probably would have done the same too if he was in their position. 

Slowly, Marc sighed from behind y/n. They could hear the slow movements he made behind him as he made his way to refill his water from the sink. They sighed, pushing their hands to their face and wiping it across their eyes. They’d forgotten themselves in that moment, and felt guilty at how they responded to Marc’s questions, he was kind enough to invite them to food and there was too much time that had passed between the two to snap at him, even if it was through a joking manner. 

“Look, Marc-”

“No, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’m sorry for pushing your buttons.” Marc stood by the scribe, clamping a firm hand onto their shoulder. He had faced them now, carrying a water in his hand as he offered them a small nod, acknowledging his words. He extended the glass in his hands towards them, waiting for them to take the cup from his hands before patting his open palms onto the pockets of his pants. He seemed to be looking for something as his eyes searched the room. 

“You know what? It’s been a long day, I’m sure you’re tired after all that traveling.”

“I literally went through a portal,” Y/n couldn’t help but smile at the marine with an incredulous look on their face. 

“Well you’re still in Egypt, aren’t you?” Steven mused, raising his eyebrows at the young thing. y/n rolled their eyes at Steven's whit. “It’s a whole two hours difference. What is it… it’s midnight for you, right, let’s get you ready.” y/n groaned at the statement. They weren’t tired at all from their journey. Steven was only using that as an excuse to go to bed early. They knew that he and Marc, despite being in their late 30s, were really just old men who slept for more than they should. 

“You can take the bed tonight, y/n. I’ll set up the couch for myself-ah.” Marc raised a hand to them with a firm voice telling them that there was no room for arguing. “You’re taking the bed. Tomorrow we can regroup and have more time to figure out what we’ll do now that you’re here.”

Marc left their side with one more pat before he approached a cabinet on the far side of the room. He opened it and pulled out a few blankets and a pillow before making his way to the couch. y/n observed the marine from their place in the kitchen, not daring to move until they were certain that the man was not at all disturbed by their presence. They kept watch as he made a hmph, releasing the noise while plopping himself across the couch with a blanket over him and a book in his hands.

The scribe, still unwilling to move from their place, observed the marine for a little bit longe, hoping to find reassurance that he held no grudge against them for their earlier attitude. They watched closely, but neither Marc nor Steven showed any visible signs of resentment. Instead, Steven gave them one last look, offering a genuine "goodnight" before settling down with his book.

Filled with a mix of relief and lingering guilt over their behavior, y/n glanced between the man in the couch and the bed they'd offered to him. They looked back at Steven, and after a few moments realized that they were fully staring at the man who had clearly told them goodnight. Slowly, they walked past the couch and took a peek into Steven and Marc's designated sleeping spot in their open apartment. Not to the scribe's surprise, their bed was surrounded by mountains of books that Steven had collected. Despite the overwhelming number of books it all seemed to be a sort of organized mess that only Steven could understand.

The scribe took their bags from the floor beside the couch where Steven read their book and took out some pajamas and bathroom bag. They made sure to stay quiet while they went to change and prepare for bed, scared that if they made too much noise, they would bother Steven. In the bathroom, they pulled out a shirt that read "I survived my trip to NYC," a memento they bought from a subway giftshop during a recon mission on behalf of Horus. Slipping the shirt over their head, y/n caught their reflection in the mirror.

Staring at themselves, they recognized their own face staring back at them, but a nagging sense of detachment washed over the scribe. The conversation Marc tried to have with them minutes before was fresh on their mind. They stared at themselves in the mirror, eyes flickering between one another as they tried to discern what exactly it was, they were feeling.

y/n raised their hands to grab onto the fabric of their shirt, looking down at the words as they rubbed their fingers across the fabric. Suddenly, the shirt's message seemed to mock them. The only reason they were able to get this shirt was because of their work for the Egyptian deities. In this life that they'd lived, they'd accomplished so much. They'd made a name for themselves amongst the gods and had earned their respect, but even that didn't outweigh the dangers and mental exhaustion that came with being an avatar.

But it was all that they'd ever known. This life. The life of servitude for the Egyptian gods. y/n had confidence that if they were to continue their involvement in the affairs of the gods, including Djehuty, the scribe had no doubt that they would thrive.

But was that really what they wanted? y/n slowly let go of their grip on their t-shirt, raising their hands to their face as they observed themselves in the mirror.

This was something that the scribe had contemplated since the first day they began working on behalf of the ennead. They agreed to help the gods reform the Ennead so that when it came down to it, they could go to the gods and ask them to return the favor out of the kindness that they may be able to show to an avatar that dedicated so much time to them.

The scribe had enough of staring at themselves in the mirror, hoping to pick up their toothbrush and toothpaste. They poured a dollop of paste to their brush, raising the toothbrush to their mouth, leaning over the sink to brush their teeth.

On the other hand, they pondered while brushing, there was the very big resentment towards Djehuty that held them back from being so willing to work for him again. Djehuty, who had betrayed their trust long ago by revealing that he'd stolen their soul without disclosure. They found it extremely difficult to fully trust that old bird, fearful of being deceived again.

But... despite their reservations, y/n grappled with the uncertainty of letting go. Being an avatar and serving the gods had become their identity, their purpose. It was all they had ever known, and the thought of severing that connection to become a normal human filled them with uncertainty of what their human life would hold in store for them.

Could they even do it?

If they were being honest, y/n was very jealous of Marc and Steven. The men seemed to have severed their connection with Khonshu so easily. They barely even hesitated. Now the men were building a life of their own, getting jobs, healing.

The young avatar spat out into the sink, cleaning any paste that covered their mouth before finally leaving the bathroom. They entered into the dimly lit apartment, slowly making their way to Marc and Steven's bed, not without sparing a glance to the couch where the system was settled in. Probably still reading their book. They made a mental note to themselves to ask about the book at a later time, when they'd find a good opportunity.

As they settled into the bed, y/n covered themselves with the blankets Marc had laid out for them. It felt peculiar to sleep in the bed of another man. The scribe felt like they were completely violating the system's personal space, despite Marc insisting on the arrangement, assuring them that it was completely fine.

They stared up at the ceiling, unsure if they were quite ready to sleep yet. The scribe hummed, turning to their side after some time, They listened to the water filter of Gus the Second's fish tank hum amidst the stillness of the night and the occasional turning of page as Steven flipped through his book. In the moments before sleep finally took over the young thing, y/n laid in bed and observed Gus the second swimming around in his little home. They could see him clearly, swimming and exploring in his own little world, and they couldn't help but wonder if Gus ever caught glimpses of Steven and themselves about the apartment and dreamt of leaving his home in the fish tank to explore Steven's apartment.

-----------

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[jayden-killer]

ARIADNE.

part two of Book Emergency.

A/N: omg last part was requested so uh let's GET STARTED I'm so happy "book emergency part 1" was appreciated, GUYS I LOVE YOU SM.

Paring: Steven Grant × f! Reader.

☁︎ ꧁ ꧂ ☁︎

It was impossible not to think about that night meeting a week ago. My mind was filled only with the image of him, his shy smile, the marks that the razor had left on him, the tired but kind eyes ... the slightly open shirt ... everywhere I went, I saw the image of him . And whatever I did to distract myself, he always came out. Jeez, it looked like I had a crush. A crush that I could not control. The book was beautiful, maybe he was right. I absolutely had to go back to the bookstore and get the other two volumes. However, would I have been intrusive if I had? Would it have seemed obvious if I'd come back just for him? Even though, at the same time, I thought nothing was going to happen: I was just a customer. Nothing more. It was enough to take the book, leaf through it a bit, go to the cash desk, pay and say hello. Don't stammer. And don't try to make him understand that an interest was born in me, for him.

Then, one spring morning, I walked the streets of London, and the air was humid, but scented with flowers. Of sweet. And it seemed that this morning was just the right one.

♡

The bookshop was open, evidenced by a sign placed on the window: "We are open :) we invite you to enter". Like in a film, I adjusted the long coat I was wearing, cleaning it from the invisible traces of dust that were on my shoulders. My fingers quivered, palms perspired. And so I took a deep breath. And opened the door.

the smell of the old book and the new one mixed together, and I felt like I was in my happy little place, smiling to myself. There was no sign of him anywhere, yet the library wasn't huge, quite the contrary. I glanced at the checkout. The handsome clerk was not there either. Then I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to recover from the thought that had invaded my mind in the last week. It would have been better to start looking for the book.

My fingers searched for the title I needed. And I wandered through those shelves full, happy with anything: Nonfiction. Biographies. Foreign literature. Myths.

Here it is, well exposed, as if it was waiting for me, to be taken. I smiled, pleased to have found the second book, and turned it over in my hands.

``Did you like the first book?´´

I jumped up in fright and turned to face the speaker. I expected someone to annoy me, to harass me, yet there was the person I'd been looking for since I entered the store: the cute, smiling clerk. This time he had his hands clasped together, shy in his bearing, and his eyes kind as always, waiting for my answer.

Looking at him, I felt my heart pounding with embarrassment. Oh god, he looked good even today. He shone in that shop, as if it were made just for him. This time he was wearing a shirt with colorful geometric motifs, ranging in brown, blue and light blue, and around his neck he wore a card with his name on it.

``Steven...´´

``It's my name, darling´´

Apparently I read the name aloud, because he answered me, but he didn't seem embarrassed, unlike me. Or... he hid it well. He flashed a second smile, and I looked away so as not to meet his gaze. I was thrilled with joy. So, he also worked during the day here!

``Sorry, I-I shouldn't have said it out loud..´´ I tried to justify myself, and then he took the book gently in my hands and said, ``No need to justify yourself. Rather, darling, may I know the name of the pretty customer who visited me today?´´

Oh.

Oh.

Darling. Pretty.

I realized too late that he had used the term pretty. My brain seemed caught up in a moment of panic, anxiety, and a thousand other emotions combined. So I told him my name, softly, shy like him, and he repeated it, as if he wanted to savor it, trying to taste it. Did he like him? Did he find it cute?

I didn't even realize that his lips were moving, and my ears were ringing.

``Sorry, what?´´ I asked.

``Do you... want to pay?´´

I nodded, letting my lips curl up in a half smile. Not because I didn't want to. Not because he made me uncomfortable. But he was just too good to be true. It was a dream. A fairy tale.

So he accompanied me to the cash register and scanned the book, while in my head there was only one question: should I have invited him out?

I seemed rushed, and I would have come across as a creep. However, I could always say that we could hang out like friends do, and to get to know each other better. Not to get straight to the point... right?

Then he handed me the bag with the book inside and I held it close to me, only the words died in my mouth and there was an all too awkward silence.

``There's a beautiful spring air outside, huh, darlin'? It's not usual in London to have these beautiful days´´ he chuckled ``The weather is always so uncertain, and dressing in layers is the best solution, isn't it?´´

``Absolutely,´´ I replied, ``have you worked here long?´´

``To be honest, not long ago. I lost my job. At the British Museum. And, uh, I used to work as a cashier then too. No, well, I was more of a gift shoppist.´´

``You liked it?´´ I ventured.

``No.´´ his was a quick answer, convinced of what he was saying, ``My dream was to work as a tour guide. You know, I have a passion for Egypt. The myths of that civilization in particular. But hey, I don't mind surely the others!´´ He added quickly. In his sentence, I could sense a bit of sadness. Like a dream now too far away to reach.

``I like them too, although ancient Greece will always hold a special place in my heart.´´ I smiled to myself, and he smiled back, as if he understood my passion. His eyes warmed me once again. He really did have beautiful hazel eyes, reminiscent of autumn.

``Who doesn't like Ancient Greece? You must be just a red flag after all!´´ We burst into laughter together, as if he had told the funniest joke in the world.

And then, other customers entered the bookshop, and Steven followed them inside with the eyes, then landed them on me again, giving me an apologetic smile.

``Oh, darlin', I'd love to chat a bit more with you, but y'know, my job...´´

``It's fine, Steven!´´ It was my first time using his name. It sounded like a melody.

``Yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting you again.´´ He moved away from the cash register, awkwardly, and smiled another time, waving, whispering a bye-bye. He turned around and welcomed the new customers, who seemed curious about that man by them. There was no other choice left for me, so I passed by him and muttered a quick "bye-bye, Steven" to leave and go home.

▪︎☆°

Tossing around my keys and coat, I instantly reached for the bag and ripped it open to find not only one book but another one. One that I had not imagined would be in the bag, nor thought. The cover was shining in bright orange colours, and the drawing showed a beautiful figure of a girl, with long air, tinned by the cover's colours.

``Ariadne´´ I read out loud. Could have Steven given that to me by mistake? I paid just for the book I was looking for. It was a mistake. Curiosity took the best of me. So I opened the first book page and found some notes on the inside, written in a stylish handwriting. The ink was red, and had no spots around it. I could read:

«To the Ariadne of my dreams,

I hope you enjoy this little present of my mine. The golden princess haunting my dreams.

With love, your Theseus.»

«P.S. You can find my number written on a Post-it inside the book. I would love to give you a proper princess treatment. Go out on a date with me? :D»

No. Fucking. Way. At all.

#marvel imagine #moon knight #moonknight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #oneshot #moonknight imagine #moonknight #marvel x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu