#moonknight imagines

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

#the glass series #moonknight #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight fanfic #moonknight imagines #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #marc spector fluff #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #steven grant fluff #steven grant #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley imagines #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel 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

[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

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

You are Loved Under the Moon (Khonshu)

Pairing: Khonshu x gender neutral! Reader  Words: 1.1k+ Warning(s): Bullying, slight self-consciousness, fluff fluff fluff A/N: Here is a continuation of Stretch Marks. I really like how it turned out. I used this persons request as inspo for this part <3, I hope to write more for Khonshu  Request:  Hello! Would you take a Khonshu request where the reader is insecure and having a hard time and Khonshu reassures and comforts them? 💕✨🐦 Stretch Marks

-----------

You slowly walked back to your apartment with sluggish movements. Work wasn't much better after your late start in the morning. Your manager reprimanded you quite harshly for being late, despite it being the first time ever at your job. You pushed through though, until your co-workers decided to make comments about you behind your back.

More specifically, your weight.

You could tell they were intentionally trying to get you to hear what they were saying despite their "hushed" voices.

"Looks like they gained weight huh?" One whispered to the other two, just in range you could hear.

"Yeah, they are more pudgier now. What a shame." The other snickered. You cringed at their comments but kept pushing forward with your task.

"If they are dating someone I feel sorry for them." That caused them all to cackle before dispersing to work.

You try not to let their high school level pettiness get to you, but you couldn't help it. You didn't mind the weight you put on. Hell, you had just told Khonshu this morning it was happy weight, and it was. You were happy spending time with Steven and Marc, and especially happy with Khonshu and his attention to you.

But words can hurt more than sticks and stones at times, and this was one of those times.

You got back to your apartment and sighed at the mess you left. Hanging up your coat and bag, you scooped up your laundry back into the hamper before getting most of it in the washing machine. Before you started the machine, you stripped of the days clothes and put them in, slipping into your sweats and a loose shirt. You started your laundry and sighed again, feeling a headache slowly start to creep over you.

"This day has you more and more stressed, little human." You jumped slightly at the sound of Khonshu's voice. You slowly turn around and saw him lounging on top of your small dining table, his hand was clutching his upright staff that never seemed to be away from him. "What is it this time?"

"Hello Khonshu." You gave him a small smile in hopes he wouldn't see through the façade and slowly approached where he lounged. "What brings you back here?"

"Do I need a reason to check in on my favorite human?" He tilted his head.

"No I suppose not." You weakly chuckled and decide to lounge on your couch. You sat down and before you could lay down, Khonshu was suddenly sitting where you were going to lay your head, his staff left at the table. "Hey-"

"You didn't answer my question. Lay." His hand cupped the side of your head and guided you to lay on his lap. You were slightly surprised that you could lay your head on his lap, much less his lap had some comfort. His hand still laid on your head.

"It was just a bad day. I was running late and my manager overreacted and berated me. And then..." You exhaled, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes.

"Then what?" Khonshu pressed, gentleness in his voice.

"My co-works were making rude comments about me." Burning hot tears fell down your face and you cringed at the fact you were crying in front of a God. "They were making rude comments on my appearance, and some of their comments hurt. They made fun of the weight I gained and saying they felt sorry for anyone I dated."

"Miscreants." He growled.

"I know I shouldn't let their words get to me, and my weight gain never really bothered me, but it still..."

"It still hurts you, my dear."

"Yeah..." You sniffled.

"They are lacking sight and taste." He tapped you and shifted so he could move off the couch, you sat up and were questioning what the large being was doing. He then pulled you up to your feet, bow you were more confused. Khonshu then kneeled down and he was now peering up to you, his large beak at your neck, his hands were placed on your hips with a firm grip. He continued speaking,

"You have Khonshu, the God of the moon and protector of travelers in the night, kneeling before you and your radiance. Your being...your soul... your everything has me at your command, willing to do whatever you need or want."

"Khonshu..."

"Hush, I am not done." The tip of his beak tapped against you, making you chuckle. You then felt his right arm reach around at tug at the hem of your shirt. "May I?"

"You may, Khonshu."

"I noticed something particular on your lower back this morning." His hand slipped under your shirt and placed on your lower back, on your right side. "Did you know you have the mark of the moon here?"

"I did, but its just a birthmark..."

"I believe it has to do with why you can see me. Why we can touch each other."

"What is it?"

"I believe it is a mark on your soul. You and I are fated it seems." Khonshu's hand slipped out from under your shirt, and he slowly rose back to his towering height. His staff then suddenly appeared in his hand and you noted your mark matches the crescent moons on his appearance and staff.

"Fated?" You looked up to him. "Am I to be your avatar then? What about Marc and-"

"My dear, it simply means you and I share a connection like no other. Other God's have them as well, although I have only heard of Hathor meeting hers. I didn't think this was the reason until I was graced with seeing your body this morning." If he could smirk, he probably was smirking.

"You have such a way with words." You laugh, and place your hand on his chest. "If I am to have a connection to a God, I am glad it's to you, Khonshu."

"I am glad it is you too, my dear. You will always be under my protection no matter what, and you will never be alone. As I said, I am at your call. You will always feel love and safety under my moon."

You smiled and attempt to reach up to his head, but you were struggling with his height. You heard him chuckle before he leaned down. You gently place your hands under where his eyes would be, and placed two soft kisses on either side of his beak. His hands then took hold of your wrists and it was his turn, he tapped each of your cheeks with his beak as kiss and one tap on your forehead.

"I do have to ask you, little human..."

"What is it, Khonshu?"

"Would you like me, Marc and Steven to go after your co-workers?"

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

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​

#Khonshu #khonshu x reader #khonshu x you #khonshu x y/n #khonshu imagines #khonshu imagine #moon knight #moonknight #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moonknight imagine #moonknight imagines #moonknight x reader #moonknight x you #moonknight x y/n

[ijustwant2write]

The Necklace-Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant x Jake Lockley

(GIF credit to @anhandfulgirl18)

Summary: Reader gets a special necklace.

Characters: Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, fluff

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

(Y/N) smiled as the jeweller showed her the necklace she had just purchased. It was perfect. The piece was thin and delicate, with three, small letters hanging in the middle; M, S and J.

"Is this for your family?" the shop assistant asked.

(Y/N) realised she couldn't exactly say it was for her three boyfriends."Uh yeah."

"Aw, what are their names?"

"Uh, my dad, Marcus, my mum, Stefania and my brother...Jake."

"Would you like to wear it now?"

"Yes, please."

(Y/N) kept looking down at the necklace as she made her way home, fiddling with the letters. With a huge smile on her face, (Y/N) couldn't wait to show everyone.

Entering the flat, she called out, hearing Marc reply. She decided she wouldn't say anything, see if he noticed. She knew he wouldn't but found it funny nonetheless.

"Hey babe." Marc smiled, pulling her towards him by her hips and kissing her.

"Hi." she was always flustered when he did that.

"Where did you go? Thought you were grabbing bread?"

She realised she hadn't covered up her lie."Ah, I went somewhere else actually."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Guess. There's actually a clue on me right now."

Marc looked at her. Could it be her hair? She wasn't gone for long, it couldn't have been that, and it didn't look any different. No new piercings, or tattoos, she would have told him because he would have had to hold her hand. It was a quick trip, she couldn't have bought anything new in that time, she was wearing one of his favourite summer dresses.

"It's her necklace! She's never worn that before." Steven proudly exclaimed.

Jake scoffed."You only noticed cause you were staring at her tits."

"No I wasn't!"

"Hey, I'm not judging, I was too."

"Steven says it's the necklace." Marc said as he looked at it. Steven was right."Wait, did you get all of our initials?"

"Yeah." she shyly smiled."I've had adverts for jewellery on my Instagram, and I wanted one, but I realised I needed to get all your initials."

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned down, kissing her neck, causing (Y/N) to giggle. He unexpectedly picked her up, enjoying the squeal that came out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her up by her ass. He couldn't help but glance down to her breasts, lingering on the initials on the necklace. Lust filled his eyes, licking his lips and grinning as he easily walked her over to the bed.

"This isn't fair, when was the last time I made love to her?"

Marc ignored him, lightly throwing (Y/N) onto her back. He saw a flash of her underwear, the bottom of the dress was ruched up, exposing the very top of her thighs.

"What's got into you?" she lightly laughed, already feeling hot.

"You've got our initials on you, you're telling everyone that you're mine."

"Ours."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Guessing the others didn't like that?"

"I don't care."

"Well, if you're all lucky, I might have time for each of you."

"Don't take long Marc."

"He never does."

"Babe, I've got to prove these two bastards wrong about something."

#Marc Spector #Marc Spector imagine #Marc Spector imagines #Marc Spector one shot #Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant #Steven Grant imagine #Steven Grant imagines #Steven Grant one shot #Steven Grant x reader #Jake Lockley #Jake Lockley imagine #Jake Lockley imagines #Jake Lockley one shot #Jake Lockley x reader #Moonknight #Moonknight imagine #Moonknight imagines #Moonknight x reader #Moonknight one shot #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel one shot

[fandomgal64]

Come on Baby, the Laugh Is on Me.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Fem Reader x Brief Steven & Jake

Warning: cursing, crying, Marc being slightly murderous, pg-13 kissing, dirty talking, mention of sexual acts, angst, perverted boss.

Rating: 18+ I’m not a blog for anyone under so if your a minor please DNI!

Word Count: 4,000 I think not sure!

Description: Reader is having a bad day after work, so when she gets home Marc has an idea that will cheer her up. He suggests she puts makeup on him, something she's been wanting to do for a while but he's been protesting.

A/N: Marc, Steven, Jake, and reader are dating in this fic!! Marc and Layla got a divorce but are still friends. Steven, Jake, and Khonshu show up at the end, so if you were hoping for an equal amount, sorry!! :)

This is mostly fluff, but we all know the boys can't resists talking a bit dirty now and then. :)

———————

The sound of the door being pushed open and slamming, is heard from the little corner Marc was sat up in. As boring as Steven's books were to him, one of them caught his attention and he's been reading it for a few hours now, getting lost in the pages, but as soon as he heard you entering he was attentive to you.

You huff as you walk over to the kitchen table and place your keys and purse down, you sigh rubbing your temples. Another day of this awful job and you might completely lose it, your boss knows your a nice person, so he pushed you to your limits all the time.

Plus all the ladies at your work know he's a pervert. Always touching your shoulders, staring at you way to much for it to just be friendly, when you bend down to grab something you can always feel his eyes glued to your ass, calling you beautiful and pretty way to much, even going as far as using the nicknames "doll" and sweetheart".

"Hey, baby your home." Marc walked over to you setting the book down on the table, right next to your purse. He sits down on the table and brings your body closer to him. You lean in and wrap your arms tightly around his torso as possible without hurting him, burying your head into his chest.

You told yourself you wouldn't cry, but the second your body touched his it was like a water ballon bursting.  Marc chuckles, lightly rocking your body side to side. Happy for you to be home in his loving arms. But his expression quickly changed when he notices his shirt had gotten two wet patches on it.

He gently grabs a hold of your face, wiping away the stray tears streaming down. His heart sunk at the sight of your distress, wanting to hurt whatever or whoever hurt you. And he's got a pretty damn good guess who hurt you and he wants to drive up to your work and have a little "talk" with him. But he doesn't because that would require you leaving his arms, and he doesn't want that, he would hold you forever if he could.

He coos at you trying to calm you down. Kissing your red nose ever so lightly. Wiping away at the mascara stain on your red eyelids.

Hearing a few sniffles coming from you he sighs, never wanting to see you this way, it broke his heart. He made a mental note to tell the rest of the boys about your boss so they could go "talk" to him later.

"Are you ok sweetheart? What happened?" He rubs your back, furrowing his eyebrows at your expression, you sigh shaking your head.

"It's nothing I'm just being dramatic. I just really hate my job, my boss is an asshole, today he wanted me to stay after work for something so I did, for a bit. Turns out the reason why, was because he wanted to ask me out on a date." Marc scoffs rolling his eyes.

"And what did you do?" He stares at you, paying close attention to your reaction.

"I told him to fuck off, that I already have a boyfriend and he definitely knows that. And I walked out and went home." You rub your temples a headache forming.

"I'm probably gonna get fired, but right now I don't give a shit I'm tired." Marc looks at you upset at the thought of you losing your job, all because of your perverted boss. He sighs then lightly kisses your forehead, you smile slightly at small gesture that spoke more than a thousand words.

"Do you need me to kill him? because I gladly will, I know Steven will most definitely take a hit at him, and don't even get me started with what Jake would do" he chuckles, you playfully roll your eyes.

"No, Marc I won't let you kill my boss, just because I don't like him. But thank you for the offer." You chuckle and straighten up a bit kissing his plump lips, your lips molding perfectly with his.

Marc wishes he could make this feeling go away, and replace it with happiness, never wanting to see anything but a smile on your face.

Marc suddenly pulls away looks down at you a smile prominent on his face. you frown up at him. What could he possibly be happy about now? you thought to yourself.

"I have an idea, it's a crazy idea. I'm definitely gonna regret it but I'm still gonna go for it because I just want to see you smile today, even if it means ruining my face." he says taking a deep breath and shuddering a bit. you furrow your eyebrows, confused at what he meant.

"Um... Marc, what the hell are you talking about?" you fold your arms over your chest.

"Promise me you won't go overboard with it?" he asks. the look on his face already saying he's regretting mentioning this.

"Go overboard with what Marc?! what the hell are you playing here, clue? just tell me already!!" you whine and pout, as he chuckles at your impatience.

"Ok, close your eyes and don't open them until I say so!" you nod closing your eyes tightly a small smile making its way on your lips. whatever the hell he was up to had to be good, if he was stringing it along this much.

Marc quickly ran over to the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers tossing things that didn't look like makeup aside. Slightly cursing to himself for going with this plan.

"Why the hell does she even have this much makeup? He opens your bottom cabinets, to find one of your makeup bags and pulls it out. The bag weight down on his hand, he scoffs.

"How much makeup does one girl need." He unzips it making sure this is a makeup bag and not something else.

"Oh my god, what the hell is this thing?!" Marc says staring at the eyelash curler in the mirror with terror in his eye.

"I'm gonna put this back and pray whatever it is she doesn't use it on me." He mutters, zipping the bag up and carrying all the stray makeup in his arms.

you could hear Marc muttering to himself but not quite making out any words.

"you already in their baby?' you ask tempted to open your eyes.

"yes, I'm fine just keep your eyes shut!" Marc huffs, hands full of makeup products, he sets them on the table, as they clatter around.

"I have no idea why you even have half of these things or what half of these things are. You'd think being married to Layla would have helped me, but no!" you giggle shaking your head, having no clue what he was talking about.

"Omg Marc, what the hell are we doing?" your mind starts to wander thinking about the things you guys do alone, and all the other times he told you to close your eyes. And boy where you surprised.

"You know what never mind, I don't want to know just tie me up already!" you said smirking, a laugh slipping out. Marc rolls his eyes playfully at you.

"As fun as that sounds, we're not doing anything like that today. But I'll keep that thought in mind for later" He replies, a smug look on his face.

he grabs a random brush not caring what it's used for and he grabs your hand gently, opening it placing it down in the center of your palm. He stares at you, in hopes you'd recognize what it was.

your confusion turns to excitement as you recognize it to be a makeup brush. That's what he's been doing, in the bathroom, he was collecting your makeup. You start bouncing up and down with your eyes still closed. he stares at you with adoration in his eyes awestruck that a simple gesture such as putting makeup on him made you this happy. This was define making him more open to doing things like this, more often with you, if it made you this happy.

"Omg! Omg! Marc can I open my eyes now." he nods and realizes you can't see him, laughing slightly at himself.

"Sure, sweetheart but by your reaction, I think you already know what's gonna happen." you quickly open your eyes scanning your surroundings and seeing a lot of your makeup sprawled out on the kitchen table, as you squeal with delight. He chuckles, kissing your forehead.

"Now this is only a ONE-time thing." you nod your head and roll your eyes playfully, not believing him one bit. He had told you that he wouldn't let you put makeup on him in the first place. He told you It wasn't his thing, and you were surprised he didn't say "it was too girly" just that it wasn't his thing. But here he was now, seconds away from a face full of makeup.

"Ok, ok, sit down in this chair and let the makeup artist begin her work." he sits down on the chair running a hand through his hair.

"makeup artist? how hard can it be to put colors on someone's face." you gasp placing a hand over your chest.

"Ugh! how dare you, Marc. Makeup is the paint and I'm the artist, and with it I make art. And i'll have you know a lot of people have made a career out of this, so ha!" you said while pulling your eyeshadow out of one of the makeup bags, he brought out.

"ok, sorry miss (y/n) I won't make the same mistake again." a smug look presented on his face, as he winks at you. You blush a bit, but quickly go back to "artist mode".

"Ok, your skin looks flawless, as always. So you don't need any foundation, plus our shades don't match, it would just look weird. Yeah, so anyways let's start with this!" you smirk holding up your eyeshadow palette and dipping it into the "Electrica gray" color. You would love to do a whole blow-out glam look with lashes, foundation, contour. The whole shebang, but Marc would faint when he see himself in the mirror.

"Whoa! Whoa! Are you starting with eyeshadow right away? babygirl don't you have something simpler to start with!" he protests backing up away from your hand that was holding the brush way too close for his liking, you huff at him.

"Marc, who are you to question my geniuseness?" you frown at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"is that even a word?" he asks.

"It is to me, now let me do my job!" you yell at him, he looks up at you.

"First give me a kiss." You roll your eyes smiling and quickly peck his lips. Then going back to what you where doing.

"Uh uh uh! Not so fast I want a real kiss." He said smirking at you, you blink harshly

"Fine you wanna a real kiss."

You place the makeup brush down, grabbing his face and crashing your lips onto his. your nose, slightly bumping into his as you kiss him rubbing your thumb back and forth on his cheek as you lick his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Which he gladly grants. But as your tongue slightly enters his mouth you pull away, a smug look on your face.

"There you happy now?" You smile at him picking the brush up again.

"Your not behaving nice." He reaches his hand behind you, smacking your ass, you gasp at his sudden action.

"Ow! what was that for" you rub your behind, knowing damn well you liked it, he scoffs.

"Sure pretend like you didn't like it. But we all know who's name you scream the loudest." You blush at his words rolling your eyes. Despite all the things you guys have done, he still managed to make you blush.

"Oh my god, shut up Marc! Don't let Jake hear you say that. Or else I won't be leaving the bedroom until one of you finally caves and let's the other be "better". You said using quotation marks, while he chuckles. Thinking back to when, Marc said he was better in bed then Jake. So Jake said fine and spend the whole week proving that he was "better then Marc in every other part of the apartment."

" Marc, your stalling just let me do it." You whine.

"fine! god, what the hell did I sign up for." he shakes his head, you lean in the brush finally touching his eye lid as you smile a bit devilish.

"A masterpiece that's what!" you reply.

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

You where finishing most of Marc's makeup, the lips were done, the eyeshadow was done. And he fought it at first, but then caved in and let you put mascara on and curl his eyelashes. Claiming that "you almost killed him with it, that he was blind now."

"You know for someone who used to be a mercenary you sure are a softy." You said, and he scoffs a bit playfully rolling his eyes.

"I'm not a softy ok." He tried to frown but your busy state. Your barely paying attention to what he was saying, so lost in the work made him laugh.

You take a step back admiring your work but not quite satisfied with it and not knowing what your missing. You rock from foot to foot, crossing your arms.

"Hmmm, there's something missing." you decide to  look through your makeup bag, rummaging through it to find something to satisfy your needs. You gasp, grab your eyeliner. Your face lighting up realizing you forgot about the eyeliner. It was gonna be hard because you had already done the mascara and curled the lashes, but with Marc this was gonna be even more difficult, but you had to try.

"Oh god, what did you find (y/n). Theirs probably some torture device in there, isn't there ?" you wave the small tube of liquid eyeliner in front of Marc's face and his face drops.

"There's no way in hell your putting that on me!" he yells, quickly trying to grab it from your hand but you hide it behind your back. you start to giggle a bit finding his mad face with all this makeup on hilarious.

"I don't know what you're giggling about your not putting eyeliner on me, I'll die before you do." you stare at him with wide eyes, scoffing a bit. Did he even realize what he just said.

"well, technically you already have died before, so yay I get to put it on!!" he grimaces at the thought.

"That was uncalled for!" he folds his arms over his chest frowning at you, but you know him, he wasn't really mad, he couldn't stay mad at you for long.

"Pretty please baby! it will look amazing." you plead grabbing a hold of his shoulders. a smile starts to creep up on his face but he still doesn't budge from his position, you huff crossing your own arms over your chest.

"Fine, guess I'll just have to do that "thing" you like so much with Steven or Jake instead." he stares at you wide-eyed, how dare you even suggest such a thing.

"you wouldn't dare." he says, you smirk at him getting closer to his ear, your voice now turned to a whisper.

"Oh, yes i would, you're not the only one who likes it when i do it like that." you purred raise your eyebrows up and down at him.

"wow, I didn't know my girlfriend was such a brat." he grins amusingly, you nod your head at him.

"Yup, sorry guess you'll just have to put up with me." you sneer at him, he pouts a bit.

"Fine, just don't poke my eyes out!" you grin lightly kissing his cheek. not worried about ruining his makeup.

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

Picture after picture, Marc can't seem to escape them. How many have you taken so far, 10? 20? 30? he lost count after the 10th flash to his eyes, the white flash now following everywhere he looked.

"(y/n) how many more pictures are you going to take, it's just makeup." he stares at you as you squeal at the photo you just took.

"Yes but its MY baby in makeup!" you replied.

"well can you at least show me the photos? you've taken like a hundred of them and I have yet to see one." you nod, showing him the last photo you took.

he grabs a hold of your phone, staring at it in silence, a small breath leaving his mouth. you stare intensely at him and then frown when he doesn't say anything. He probably doesn't like it, you thought.

"You hate it, don't you?" you say your voice dropping its excitement. he looks up at you quickly smiling, tucking a strand of hair that has fallen in front of your face, behind your delicate ear. You smile softly at him. That smile of your was enough to make his heart burst he'd anything for you to keep it on your face, always.

"No I don't hate it, it's just the little golden moon symbol on my cheek, caught me by surprise that's all." He said.

"Oh yeah, that was a last-minute touch I had some liquid gold eyeshadow and decided it would look good." you said smiling shyly at the fact that he loved the small gesture so much, he stares up at you so thankful that he managed to find someone in his life like you.

he stands up engulfing you in a tight hug. You gasp as he takes you by surprise, picking you up bridal style off the ground, swinging you around. you giggle loudly.

"Marc, oh my god, weren't you the one who told me it was just makeup!" You laugh at both his action and face. You weren't use to seeing him all decked out in "style".

"Yeah, but MY baby did the makeup." he says kissing your cheek, thank goodness you put on non-smearing lipgloss.

After ten minutes of Marc gushing in the mirror over how well you did his makeup, despite not wanting it in the first place. you both decided to order take-out and have a movie night on the couch, spending the whole night laughing at the movies you picked and you asking him if he "wanted to take the makeup off now'" to which he replied with, "No thank you sweetheart, now watch the movie."

At some point, you fell asleep on the couch laying your body on top of his snuggling from when you were watching dumb and dumber. Marc was debating weather to take off the makeup before he went to bed. Not wanting to distribute your peace, and not knowing if he'd be here to wake up with you in the morning. All that debating drifted him off to sleep, with his makeup still on.

-------------————————-

Stirring from his slumber Steven groans, opening his eyes wondering how he ended up on the couch tonight. He felt your body weight against him, and he lovingly sighed. As he looks down at your face, laying upon his chest he brushes the hair out of your face. Kissing your forehead, your lips too far down for him to reach.

"Mi Hermosa"

Steven could hear Jake talking, knowing he was seeing the same beauty as well.

"Is Marc awake yet?" he asks.

"Not sure, but he was with (y/n) all night, last night so probably not." Steven nods, feeling the urge to use the restroom, he stretches as much as he can with you on him.

"Love?" he shook you.

"Darling you need to get up." You groan, not wanting to wake up just yet.

"I have to use the bathroom sweetheart." he chuckles, you get up with your eyes closed trying to stay as sleepy as possible, he gets up staring at you a bit watching you plop back down pulling the blanket higher up your body.

"She's such a drama queen." Jake chuckles, watching you as well, Steven nods. Walking over to the bathroom and turns the lights on, he quickly glances over to the mirror, to see what state he was in. Then proceeds to the toilet, doing his business.

Steven pulls up his sleeves washing his hands in the sink, sending another glance up at the mirror. His mind finally registering what he looks like, he stops dead in his track. Water dripping down his hand as he stares at himself.

"Bloody hell what is on our face!" Steven yells touching the gray and white glittery eye shadow then moving to his lips and so forth.

"Diso Mio what did she put on our face!" Jake yells take control over the body, examining your work in the mirror.

His callus fingers touching the little gold crescent, on his upper right cheek.

"Did Marc say yes to this? I mean she had to have done it when we were sleeping, right?" Steven asks confusion written all over his makeup-covered face.

"I got to say, I do quite like the little moon she put there it's nice innit?" Jake goes quite for a bit just staring in the mirror at what his girlfriend would definitely call "a masterpiece"

He shakes his head, placing his face in his palms he starts to laugh, Steven joining him.

"The things we do for love am I right?" Steven says, sighing thinking about what he wouldn't do for that girl.

'Well I feel like a million dollars, I say we hit the town, party all night!" Jake chuckles.

His chuckles dying down as he hears the sound of a cape fluttering from where you were, he walks out to see Khonshu sitting on the edge of the couch. He looks over at Jake and now he's going back and forth from his face to your sleeping form on the couch, sighing as he rubs his face.

'I said to protect the traveler of the night, not scare them off! And what is on your face?" He asks in disbelief.

"Makeup," Jake replied mono-toned, crossing his arms over his chest, unsure of what the pigeon was gonna say about his love.

"Well my bets on this one's doings." Jake chuckles nodding, hearing light snores coming from you.

"she was with Marc all night so.."

"Marc? He let her do this! just when I thought you guys couldn't be more wrapped around her little finger this happens." khonshu scoffs, shaking his head.

"It's called love, get used to it you dead Pidgeon." Steven says.

——————————

This is literally my first fic for the moon boys ever, so I hope y'all like it.

feedback is greatly encouraged and I hope you guys will start requesting things soon, because I'm dying to write! Please comment, like and reblog i’d really appreciated it.

Also disclaimer I'm not an expert on DiD I'm just going based off of what the show gave us so if I get anything wrong please correct me!

Anyways hope y'all have a great day/night byeeee. ✌🏼 💕

- Kaity

#steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #marvel #layla el faouly #jake lockley #moon knight series #khonshu #marcsteven #marc spector x reader #marc and steven #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #marc spector x you #marc x steven #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockely x reader #moonknight #moonknight imagines #moonknight fanfic #marvel moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight comics

[brokebonewritings]

When the World Caves In - Part 2

Marc Spector x gn!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: New revelations are made about your mission. Marc takes the news of what you have found very hard.

Word Count: 2K

Navigation || Series Masterlist

You wake up from the desk you were sleeping on in a cold sweat. How long had you been out for? You felt like it had been an eternity since you began your search.

The real time had been just about 2 week. That’s how long you had been searching for the 3 items. So far, you have only found one item, the spell of the scales.

It was eerily similar to the one you remember Harrow having on his forearm, but you swept that memory under the rug.

The second item you were searching for was a heart. Not specifically anyone's heart, just a heart. You felt as if you were getting closer to it by the minute. The closer you were to finding the heart, the closer you were to finally reuniting with your boys.

Any progress on the Heart, my pet? You jumped at Ma’at’s sudden voice.

“I am one step closer. I can feel it has to be in one of these boxes here.” You happily say. You stand up and begin to rummage around the wooden crates next to your desk.

You feel a hand resting on your shoulder, which makes you stop your current task.

I have a proposition for you, y/n. She says. One I think you might enjoy.

This makes your ears perk up a bit. Maybe you will finally be getting help looking for these items. You really could use it, after all, this was a lot of work for one person to accomplish.

“What is your proposition?” You ask, turning your head towards her.

I am allowing you to return to your body. She says and you stand immediately. However, in 3 months time, you will return here to finish your work.

“And after that?”

Then if you wish to be free. You will be free.

You think about it for a moment. Of course you want to be reunited with Marc, but you were so close to the second task being done.

“May I… finish the second task? After I find the heart, may I return to my body?” You ask, and you can see a faint smile spread across her face.

Very well. She starts. Once you find the heart, bring it to me and I shall return your soul.

You watch her leave and your search for the heart begins once again. This time you are leaving no clue untouch, no stone unturned. You must find this heart.

Marc walks up the stairs to the flat, the same old shit as the last two weeks. Steven goes to work, Jake makes them stop to play chess with the old Greek man in the park, and Marc goes to every library, bookstore, or religious shop on their side of town.

He had to find a way to bring you back. Khonshu was not helping whatsoever, and he didn't have the patience of waiting around and finding out if you would even return.

Once they got up the stairs, they could feel a presence lingering in the dark.

“What do you want?” Marc spoke suddenly.

I sense something in your room.

“Yeah, remember, y/n is still in there” He replied to the God.

Marc stood in front of the door, and waited a moment. Stupid fucking bird. Taking out his keys, he unlocked the door and walked inside.

Something was definitely off, Marc turned on the lights to discover you were no longer laying in the bed. He threw his stuff on the ground and walked fully into the apartment.

Looking in the living area and kitchen, not finding you there, he stopped and placed his fingers on his temple. For a brief moment, he thought he was completely by himself.

“Marc?” Your voice came into the air without notice. He whipped around to find you standing there, hair dripping wet and fresh pajamas on.

He rushed forward, and nearly tackled you after realizing you were actually there in front of him. You could feel his whole body shaking as he held you tightly.

“Marc, baby.” You began to cry, the both of you dropping to your knees.

“Y/n.” He choked out. “I thought I lost you. WE thought we lost you.”

You shook your head. This was the hardest reunion you had ever had with the boys. Usually it was just tight hug, a kiss, something more.

“I thought I would never see you again!” You sobbed.

The both of you sat on the ground and cried. Hearts yearning for each other, and needed to be in each other’s arms.

Once the both of you had calmed down, you moved to the couch. Still in each other's embrace, you sat in silence.

“How did you do it?” His voice sounded rough. “I never stopped looking for a way to get you back.”

“Ma’at.. She gave me permission to come back.” You replied slowly. “But Marc, I-“

“Shh. I know.” He said drying your eyes. “I know of her deals.”

That voice didn't belong to Marc. You look up to see Steven staring back at you. Sweet Steven.

Tears began to fall from your eyes again. You had to treat every moment as if it was your last with them.

You learned that the last item needed was an event. An event from the searcher specifically. One that was most dear and precious to them.

For you, It was the day you met Steven in a coffee shop. The day that changed your life for the better. Without that event taking place, you would have never fallen in love with all three of them.

“Steven, I’m scared.” You cried. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What exactly is she having you do?” He asked.

“She’s having me find the key to social balance…” You began. “I have to find 3 items to create the key.”

“Well that shouldn’t be so hard!” He cheered. “How many have you got so far?”

You shook your head. The thought of having to tell them that you wouldn’t remember them after going back, kills you.

“It’s not that simple, Steven..” You look up at him to see his big puppy dog eyes. “I have two, but the last one..”

You get up from the couch and start pacing around the room. All he could do is sit there and watch as you contemplate, telling him or not. You stop, and turn to him.

“Remember the day that we met?” You ask abruptly. This put a smile on his face.

“Course! You accidently spilled your Americano all over me.” You blushed at the remark, you had forgotten about that.

“It was the happiest day of my life, Steven!” You rushed over to him. Kneel down between his legs, he scooted forward and touched your cheek gently.

“What about it, love?” He questioned.

“The last item I need… is to forget that that ever happened..” You replied, looking down.

“What?” The voice turned rough again. Marc.

Hearing his voice made you look up suddenly. His eyebrows tight together making the worry line on his forehead more prominent.

“Marc, I” You began to speak, but every word began to fail you. Of course Marc was going to take this the hardest, because he has grown most attached to you.

“What do you mean you have to forget that ever happened?” He asked.

“I have to give up my happiest memory, which is you, don’t you understand?!” You cried. “I’m so scared because I don’t want you to be that! I don’t want to give you up!”

He pulled you into his lap, caressing your hair and whispering little affirmations to you. This was hard for him to hear of course, but there had to be a way to save you.

It wasn't just your life this was messing with, it was all of theirs. You had no idea this is what would happen and neither did he.

You woke up the next morning with strong arms wrapped around you. It was the best night's sleep you had had in a while. You turn your head to see Marc sleeping still. The same hard expression on his face like always.

As you roll over, you can see him begin to grimace and open his eyes. When he sees that you’re awake, he gives a small smile out the corner of his mouth.

“Buenos días, mi amor.” You giggle as you realize Jake was the one holding you all night.

“Good morning, my love.” You mimic back. He pulls you in closer. “Jake?” 

“Yes, amor?” He opens one of his eyes to look at you.

“Can you tell me how much you love me?” You ask. The reassurance was much needed to you. 

It broke his heart hearing the question come out your mouth. Usually when he fronted you both were in bed with no clothes on. However, he understood that you needed him to be the rock.

“Y/n, I love you more than the tide loves the moon. You are my world, my entire existence. Mi vida.”

“I love you.” You say tilting your head up and kissing him.

You both laid in bed for a few more hours. It was a lazy morning spending it with all the men you loved. Once you both decided to get up, Steven fronted.

Since it was a Wednesday, he very much still had to go to work. Before leaving, he peppered you with kisses and would not let go of your hand. He was always so sweet when saying goodbye.

Once he left you were alone. You weren’t going to lie, being alone now left you scared. However, now you could try to figure out what to do.

There was no sense in talking to Ma’at, since before you left she disappeared when you asked about the last item. Maybe Khonshu… Maybe.

“Hello?” You say standing in the living room. “Khonshu?”

Silence. You wait a moment before sitting on the bed. Sometimes Gods answer and sometimes they don’t. 

The day went on as usual. You used Steven’s laptop to research more on Ma’at. Not that Steven hasn’t told you enough. The internet was a marvel though. You learned that the ancient Egyptians believed that she brought the universe to order. Even about how her ostrich feather was used to judge their hearts in the Duat.

You should not question a God when they need you, Y/n

You look in the reflection of the computer screen to see Khonshu sitting in his beloved armchair.

“Would you? If you weren’t a God, would you give up everything for them?” You ask as you swivel around in the chair. The air was tight in the flat.

I would do as I must, and trust that fate is by my side.

“Fate? What would you know about fate?” You spat.

I know fate well enough to trust that you will be brought back to him.

This made you shut your mouth. He was a higher being after all. Most of what he says has meaning and truth to it.

“Khonshu, Do you really believe that fate will bring me to Marc again?” You question. This was something that has been on your mind the past few days.

I do not believe it. I know. He begins. It doesn’t see you for what you are, it sees you for what you’re about to be.

With that, He disappeared. As you watch him leave, you hear the front door open. You turn your head to see Steven walk through the door.

“Hiya! I brought you some soup.” He says as he drops the bag on the counter. “I didn’t know which type to get, so I just guessed. That’s alright, yeah?”

You smile as you stand to greet him. Walking over, you hug him from behind. Knowing the new information you received, set your heart at ease. Everything was going to be okay. You just had to be patient.

Last Chapter || Next Chapter

A/N: I'm tagging these people because they commented about wanting a part 2! Thank you everyone for reading, and liking, and reblogging! It really means so much!! And again if you want to be tagged when the next part comes out please lmk through my ask box or comment!

taglist: @topstory21 @renee834729 @in-between-the-cafes

#marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight #marc spector x you #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant #jake lockley #oscar issac #moonknight imagines #moonknight x reader #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #writer #marvel #mcu

[gay-dorito-dust]

What was once lost is now found

A/n: since everyone loved and practically demanded to know if our dear reader ever got found. Enjoy and thank you for liking my shit. (Also I’m skipping some bits cuz this fic is long enough.)

pt 1

Summary: with Steven gone, Marc is left to uphold his promise, the problem was how could he when he didn’t know where to start? Luckily fate finally decided to take pity.

Warnings: self-deprication, angst, slight depression and not so nice thoughts and attempt of self harm. (Ie: digging nails into skin and such.)

Steven was gone. Perished. Nothing but his stone statue remains within the vast expanses of sand that laid long behind him as it did wide alongside of the countless other unfortunate souls who once believed they had the heart required for passage to the fabled Field of Reeds. The very same field that Marc now found himself utterly lost in with the heat beating down upon his back whilst he let his gaze search beyond the fields for a indication of his escape in attempt to conceal his lacklustre state of mind.

‘This is where the worthiest went?’ Marc thought to himself as flashes of Steven’s form slowly succumbing to the process as he fell to his knees, arm outstretched for Marc to take in a desperate cry for help followed by the mere whisper of his name before he become unmoving. An artistic standstill of Marc’s newest failure, made purely to mock him and his inability to save those who needed him most. Steven’s face was the first thing Marc’s mind could equate to the word worthy. As a matter of fact Marc never felt worthy. Not even a little, not when Harrow was still alive, not when Layla’s fate was undetermined, not when he had a promise to uphold to his alter in finding you and most certainly not when Steven sacrificed himself just for him to stand in a unwanted state of self reflection instead of finishing what he originally set off to do.

It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this. Steven should be here basking in the light, not him! He should’ve been the one to turn to stone, not Steven. Yet fate has already played out as intended, not as one wanted. Seeing no reason to keep his walls up Marc allowed himself a moment of release as he sunk to his knees as tears pricked his eyes; the cries of his name from both Randall and Steven were sounding all too similar for his licking, taunting him with memories of how he failed them both, reminding him that being Marc Spector wasn’t in any sort of a blessing in disguise. Danger followed in his footsteps after all as flashes of Abdallah El Faouly’s corpse came to the forefront of his mind like a haunting reminder that despite his abilities to save people from similar fates, it wasn’t enough to erase the faces of those whom he wasn’t strong enough to protect. In fact they served as a lesson learnt in the most cruelest of ways. A lesson permanently seared into Marc’s mind of the fate he could lead someone down unwillingly if he were to allow himself to become comfortable with the company of others.

His mother’s cries of ‘THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT’ still dug daggers into his soul as he felt it break and fracture off into little splinters that while unseen to the human eye could cause just as much pain as any other inflicted injury. Marc was well aware that it was all his fault, he didn’t need to be reminded of such when he does it all by himself on a daily basis ever since leaving his family home as a teenage youth while also trying to come across as a well put together individual with a hardened exterior. His father, try as he might, was of no help at all. Did he truly expect Marc to withstand his mothers’ violent outbursts that only seemed to get worse as time went painfully by? Under the false pretence that she’d one day get better? His father had been spouting that same old shit for too long and in the end it become too much for Marc. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to get better and his father was too oblivious to see the damage caused by his optimism that had pushed Marc into doing what was best for him which was packing his bags and leaving in hopes of a somewhat better life elsewhere.

If only he knew what he knew now but even if he did would it change anything that has lead him this far or would he have taken a completely different route to prolong the inevitable. “Steven,” Marc cried, knowing that no matter how loud he’d scream Steven would never be able to hear him-nobody would- yet something within him told him to at least try, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault you’re not here with me! I was too weak to protect myself never less protect you. I’m sorry for pushing the responsibilities onto you…please…I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” His voice cracked as his hands that laid in his lap gripped at his legs, his arms, his hair, anywhere that would cause him significant pain in a act of attempted self-harm. He just wanted to feel something then the crushing guilt he carried for so long sitting within his chest, getting heavier with each mistake made. It was too much for him to bear a majority of the time that when he was at his lowest he would even contemplate the importance of his existence when it caused so much pain; Marc didn’t think his existence as vital but yet would always find himself prioritising his duties rather then his own emotional and mental state. His thoughts and feelings were never taken into account when someone’s life was at stake for there was always more important issues at hand then his human emotions or how he felt about certain things. He didn’t allow himself that luxury so it caused Marc to begin neglecting his own feelings and instead focused on the unhealthy side of things that it took a heavy toll on all the relationships he’s built thanks to his lack of communication skills and tendency to keeping secrets.

Marc didn’t know you but after that memory he felt as though he was partly responsible for your disappearance. You play such a pivotal part in Steven’s life that once this was all resolved Marc would happily let you and Steven to live out a happier life together, the life he could never have yet it wasn’t going to be that simple. He of all people knew that it wouldn’t. For all he knew you could quite possibly be dead and that searching for you would be proven useless but he knew that Steven would never stop looking for you. He never has from what Marc could gather when he saw Steven’s face fall into one of melancholy when he saw your smiling face. Your disappearance was a breaking point for Steven as he was lost without your light to guide him and would blatantly disregard his health and well being if it meant getting you back because despite all that Steven is, he was brave and held no fear when the people he loved were in peril.

That was another reason why Steven should’ve been in the field of reeds instead of him. It pained Marc beyond belief being unable to save Steven, to feel as helpless as he did when he was forced to watch him become stone as everything within him screamed at him to save him, to reach out to him! It was almost as though he was being forced to watch his brother drown while he fought with all his might to keep himself alive that day in the cave. Helpless and powerless to prevent it from ever happening. Yet the thought of having one son safe from harm wasn’t enough for his mother. In fact it was probable to assume that she believed within her bouts of grief that the wrong son died and that had it been Marc instead she wouldn’t have batted an eye and moved on with life as though nothing tragic has occurred. Would life have been different had that happened? Would it be his brother standing where he stood instead or would he live a relatively normal life with mother and father like a normal family?

Some to think of it Steven was everything Marc wished he had. The semi-normal life, the illusions of a loving mother, a goldfish, everything. Steven was also Marc’s protector in his worst of times; defending him against anything that could cause him harm and in exchange Marc became Steven’s protector in situations where physical violence would be required. Marc did this because he wasn’t strong enough to protect Randall. Now that he’s lost Steven he couldn’t help but be reminded of that loss, that unwanted feeling of hopelessness and the feeling of being weak. He felt that day as illusions of water whooshing past his ears as though he was back there again but this time with Steven instead of Randall.

Whatever the case Marc knew he shouldn’t indulge too much into the past for he didn’t have the ability to do so freely. Inhaling deeply through his nose, Marc regained his bearings and gradually made his way back up to his feet, lifting a hand to wipe away the any of the fallen tears as his mind refocused on the time sensitive task at hand; to find a way out of the field of reeds and stop Harrow before it was too late. Yet he didn’t want to do this alone so before his mind could make itself up he was already running back into the sandy dunes of the Duat as fast as his legs could carry him through the muscle strain where he was confronted by Steven’s stone body half buried beneath the sand; staring straight at him with his hand outstretched still.

“Steven,” Marc drops to his knees before him, “looking pretty rough man.” He spoke through a tearful smile before uttering his next words, “I don’t know if you can hear me. From the moment you arrived, way back then, we were so young. You saved me. I survived because I knew I wasn’t alone anymore for you were always there, alive, full of hope and I tried to protect that and I failed. I couldn’t protect you.” His voice broke once more but Marc was more primarily focused on the cold sensation within his hardening arm, he looked down to see that he too was succumbing to the same fate as Steven and yet he wasn’t afraid, if anything he’s more at peace with becoming stone then he ever did with standing within the peaceful Field of Reeds. “You didn’t abandon me, you didn’t abandon me and although that field back there was looking…was looking pretty good. There was no way in hell m going to abandon you.” By the end of his speech Marc noticed that half of him was already stone when he tried with all his might to do the simple task of lifting his arm but couldn’t hold it for longer then a second as it plummeted back into the sand like a weight. Accepting his fate Marc said some final words, “you are the only real superpower I ever had.” With the remainder of his strength he brought his arm towards Steven’s so it would look like them were grasping hands together so he would be reminded that he wasn’t alone anymore, that he hasn’t been abandoned. They were together eternally entombed in stone. That wasn’t so bad of a fate. Marc thought as he let himself finally relax.

Stood away aways from them opened a door that streamed a warm light onto Marc and Steven and into their hands, freeing them from their imprisonment almost immediately as though by a miracle. Steven let himself gulp in air when he was freed from the stone as Marc followed afterwards doing the exact same thing as they stared at each other, smiles growing across their faces when realisation hit them both. “Marc.” Steven uttered, his throat inexplicably dry despite the short amount of time spent in stone though to Steven it felt a lot longer. “Steven.” Marc replied, happy to see him free and talking again as Steven hauled him up to his feet. “You came back? What the hells wrong with you?” Steven asked, smiling widely. Marc shrugged, “well I did do a whole little speech there.” Marc retorted as he tried to regain his bearings, “it wasn’t that little.” Steven chuckled before Marc brought him into a tighter embrace then their precious one after finding one another. Momentarily forgetting what was happening within the land of the living as they aloud themselves a little breather from everything so far.

“Besides I wouldn’t have wanted to find y/n without you. You deserve to see them again Steven and I’m not going to take that possibility from you. Not after everything we’ve been through.” Steven’s eyes widened in remembrance. You. In his last moments before becoming stone all he could think was about you. He didn’t know if your soul was amongst the many unfairly judged by Harrow. He hoped that wasn’t the case and that you were as far away as you possibly could be from harrow’s grasp. For he didn’t know what he would do if that bastard ever did get to you before him. His mind couldn’t fathom that reality and refused to even speculate that sort of thing ever happening. You had a soul as pure and as good as they come in his eyes when he remembered your vibrant smile aimed his way. He had no visual on what was happening but he only hoped that both you and Layla were unscathed. As though he was remembering what they were meant to be doing beforehand this sweet reunion Steven looked back at the gate, determined more then ever, “look Marc, the gates are open!” Marc looked to where Steven was looking with a smile. They were finally getting out of here for once and for all.

Meanwhile elsewhere you were trudging through the ash coloured ground leaving bloodied foot prints behind as you dragged on with aching and straining muscles that screamed for sleep. “Are we done here? Or are we done.” You asked the dark entity that stared back at you upon a dark throne that could only be preserved by blue candle light that were mounted upon the wall behind them casting a elongated shadow across the floor. The entity was clearly bored from their slouched posture and how they practically held the weight of their head upon their hand whilst they started you down with glowing eyes. “Oh we’re far from done my favourite little pawn.” They growled as they stood to their full height, making their way down from the obsidian steps until you could smell the smoke and death they emitted when they stopped in front of you. The entity in question had greying skin of that of a defying corpse; You still remember the amount of times where they made you pick up their jaw that fell loosely from their face that it might as well be a separate thing entirely, not to mention the sickening sound it would make when reattaching the damn thing. Their hair was greasy and black as the night itself yet held an elegance as it dropped pathetically past their shoulders and stopped mid back. Brushing that thing was like trying to brush water, it was unhealthy thin yet weighed just about as much as a dead fish did when moving aside to put their hair in their usual half up half down style. Their robes consisted of pale blues, blacks and grey that upon further inspection it looked as though they had faces within the clothing looking as though to be in inexplicable pain and torture.

“What do you mean by that?” You bite back, wanting nothing more then the slit their throat when they least expected if it meant getting back to Steven, back to where you belong. It’s been so long since you’ve last heard word of him from the crows that would do their masters bidding in adding them information from the realm of the living. You would be surprised if Steven even remembered you now cos seeing how well the entity made it seem that you disappeared when in actual fact it was the complete opposite. The entity chuckled as they walked past you, their shoulder badly touched you yet you couldn’t help but collapse to the ground at the cold sensation akin to only death as you attempt to grasp your bearings once more and control your breathing that came out in cold puffs of air. The entity stopped to look over their shoulder at you with the best attempt of a sickening smile as their rotting jaw looked about ready to detach from their face, “we’ve got your little lover boy to visit. I’m was certain that would make you happy so why the face I wonder?”

You growled, “touch Steven and I’ll fucking KILL YOU! Do anything to him and I’ll fucking burn your realm to the ground DO YOU HEAR ME!” The entity only chuckled at your threats as they walked back over to kneel before you as they grasp your face within their freezing hand, bringing you closer to their face as they sneered, “tough words form such a weak human, be grateful I took putty on you or else you would’ve died by now.” You couldn’t say anything in response as their cold skin all but bit and deep into your skin that it felt as though you were getting a brain freeze but only way worse. So instead you just glared at the entity as they let go of your face and began walking away once again. “Now get moving or else I shall make the next punishment make this one I had you go on look like a walk in the park.” There was nothing you could do to combat them at the moment but one day you would but then again you did give them your soul in exchange for life albeit forced though. So if you were ever to go through with that plan there was a high chance that they could just kill you then and there without so much of a sweat being broken. You must’ve been thinking too much for the entities likening as their yelling could be heard from afar, “ my pawn!” “Coming!” You yelled back as you managed to get yourself off the floor, dusting yourself down as you ran after the entity with regret. “Don’t worry Steven, I’m coming home, just not in the way you’d expect.”

-time skip-

Everything was back to some semblance of normality. Yes even the ankle restraint was now considered an aspect of normality for Steven as he awoke back in his apartment. Khonshu was no longer tethered to him any longer as far as he was aware and with Harrow away at some institution he could confidently say that there would be no more cults for Marc to hunt down anymore for the time being. Yet as he was removing the ankle restraint a knock came at the door which stopped Steven. He was certain he wasn’t expecting anyone, he wasn’t sure Marc was either seeing as Layla was busy elsewhere but made the journey towards the door either way albeit hesitantly. “Who is it?” He called out, waiting for an answer. “Steven.” That voice. It couldn’t could it? Steven had never dashed so quickly towards the door in his entire life as he removed the locks and pulled the door open so fast he almost rammed it into his nose at one point. There before him stood you as though you’ve never left, as though your apartment was bare of your belongings, as though you’ve been here the whole time eating for him to come home. “Y/n?” You looked at him with that same smile that you did way back when. “Hi Steven, long time no see.” Steven didn’t waste any time dragging you into his apartment so he could bring you into a tight embrace, burying his head into your neck and he felt your arms grasp at his back as though he would become sand beneath your touch. “How did you find me? I mean you know where my apartment is but what I means is where have you-“ “it’s a long story Steven.” You tried to wave off but Steven was notoriously persistent, “I’ve got all the time to hear it out on full.” He pulled away to look at your face before realising that something was wrong…very wrong.

There were scars littering your face and you were wearing a baggy beige overcoat, Steven knew you hated beige but peaking out from the overcoat looked to be a suit of sorts that when you took off the coat, coaxing him into not panicking beforehand, was a black robe that seemed to have faces in eternal torment melded within the fabric, almost moving in desperation of escaping that it made poor Steven’s blood go cold. “I don’t- I don’t understand.” He said as you dropped the coat across the back of a nearby chair. “This is what I didn’t want to tell you Steven,” you sad as you ran your hand through his hair and downwards until your hand was pressed against his check where he could feel every individual callouses, “I’m afraid of how you’d react if I told you but I’ve kept it too long and now I don’t know if I should in fear of loosing you.”

Steven saw feel conflict radiating off of you and brought his hand against your own yet his eyes can’t seem to look away from the faces embedded into your black and silver robes. They spoke of many words and yet none of which he could catch to make coherent sense of even if he tried. Yet he would always try for you. “Hey, look at me,” your eyes met his own where finally he could bring himself to look away from your haunting robes, “you could never loose me. After you left I tried looking for you but never could find any traces of you left for me to pick up on and even long after I’ve seen to lost all hope I never gave up wishing for your safe return or that where ever you were that you would be safe from harm.” His voice trailed off as his other hand traces the scars that littered your face, watching carefully and you flinched are some yet not at others indicating that some were fresh while others have been there for a while. “Now tell me what happened.”

You blinked back tears as you began opening your mouth to speak your truth when a painful sensation within your head refrained you from doing such but thankfully you managed to fought through it, having been suffering from them too long for your liking. “Steven I’m, I’m-“ unfortunately the strength and will power that lead you to his door have left you drained beyond belief and had your body aching for a rest that you hadn’t noticed that you had fell into a state of unconsciousness until you found yourself prepped up in a bed that must’ve been Steven’s considering the ankle restraint. “Steven?” You called out only to see him sat on a chair next to the bed looking at you worriedly.

“Y/n, what are you?” He asked but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer the question either because even you didn’t know who you were outside the possession that all you could do was stare at Steven as your eyes became like that of obsidian, as a pure black teardrop leaked from your eye and trailing down your cheek, leaving a streak behind it as it dropped from your chin and against the back of your hand where it crystallised. “I don’t know but I need your help Steven. They’re coming and I can’t stop them.” Your voice cracked as more black tears fell from your eyes and crystallised on your hands that Steven had never acted so fast in pulling you into his arms and brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he tried to calm you down from an inevitable panic. “Who’s coming darling, your obviously distraught about it.” It broke Steven’s heart to see you this scared so all he could do was hold you tightly until you decided it was time to speak. You’ve been separated once but never again would Steven let that happen, so he’d rather the thing come for you both because Steven wasn’t letting you go so easily this time. Not a chance in hell would that reality come to haunt him once more.

Tagged: @bibli0thecary

#moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x reader #moonknight x you #moonknight x reader #moonknight imagine #moonknight imagines #steven grant x you #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #marc spector imagines #marc spector x reader #Marc Spector imagine #tw: negative self talk #tw: mentions of self harm #tw: depression

[n1ght5h4d3-24]

Nach Mera Hero (Alfasl Alsaabie)

A/N: HAPPY 1-YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO MOON KNIGHT!!! Gods, I can't believe it's already been a year...where's our season 2 announcement?!

~Previously~

Diana was woken up by rapid knocks on her door. She got up from her bed, grabbed her glasses, put them on her face, and made her way across the threshold of her flat to get to the door, moving albeit sluggishly to said door. When she unlocked and opened the door, she feigned surprise at seeing Steven on the other side.

"Steven? What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asks him in concern.

Steven stares at her for a moment, taking her in.

"I...y-you...I...uh...saw you in this dream I had," he tells her.

She tilts her head, "Oh? What happened in your dream?"

She opens her door a bit wider to let Steven inside. He hesitates for a moment before stepping into her flat. She closes her door behind him and then turns around to look at the brunet. He held his hands close to his chest as he looked around her flat before meeting her gaze through her glasses.

"Um...well...I woke up i-in an unfamiliar place and in pain...then I was getting shot at so I ran...I tried to blend in, in this village...I remember seeing your face in the crowd and then...there was this man, Harrow I think he called himself...and he seemed to be judging people?...this elderly woman died...and then Harrow seemed to recognize me...he called me a mercenary which I quickly objected to...then he asked for this..."

"Stop."

Steven had been wringing his hands together as he recalled his strange dream when an unseen voice spoke up, making him pause in his recollection. Diana tilted her head to the right just a little at his sudden lull, looking at him in curiosity.

"Steven? What did this Harrow man ask you for?"

The brunet's tongue poked out from between his pink lips to wet them before quickly disappearing back inside his mouth, an action that Diana had watched subconsciously.

"Don't tell her anymore."

The unseen voice said a bit more firmly to Steven. So he hesitated for a moment and recollected his thoughts.

"I-I...I don't remember. You uh...you know what they say about dreams. The longer you're awake...the faster the dream slips away." he tells her.

Diana stares at him for a minute, not believing him for a moment but, she wasn't going to let him know that. If he believed what happened was a dream, then she would go along with it.

"Yeah, that's what they say, isn't it? And I totally get it, sometimes I try to recall dreams only for them to fade away before I can remember all the details," she says.

Her gaze trails over his body, checking for any outward injuries as it hadn't been easy for her to keep up with him during the car chase.

"But you're okay though, right? It didn't become a nightmare?" she asks in concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Woke up 'fore anythin could happen." he assures her.

"That's good, I'm glad. Nightmares are the absolute worst," she mentions.

"Yeah, they absolutely are." he agrees.

Steven starts to fiddle with his thumbs now, as silence has fallen over the both of them and he had no idea why the mystery voice didn't want him to tell his dear friend about what had happened.

"W-well...I think that...I should head back to m-my flat. Things to do." he says after a lapse.

"If you want. I don't mind if you stay, we could hang out if you want to."

"I've gotta feed Gus and since it's my day off...there's a historical show that I don't want to miss."

The dirty blonde nods in understanding and opens her door again to let Steven out, bidding him farewell as he went across the hall. He returned the goodbye and then entered his flat. She closed her door and pressed her forehead against the wood, sighing.

~~~~~~~~

Diana had decided to take a walk later that evening. She had changed her clothes, now wearing a soft gray dress and her black ankle booties. She had been walking down the street for a while before deciding to come to a standstill, basking in the moonlight and the way it felt on her skin, eyes closed as she took in the feeling.

She then feels a gush of wind blow past her, causing her to open her eyes and look around. She also felt that familiar presence once more. As she looked around for whatever the presence was, her blue-green eyes caught a recognizable figure across the street.

It was none other than Steven Grant, sitting alone at a steakhouse. It was then that she remembered why he was there but also what day it was. He had shown up late to the date he was supposed to have and yet, it looked like he was planning on sticking around.

She could see the dejected look on his face, the sad looks he was getting from surrounding patrons, and felt her heart clench in her chest. So, the dirty blonde did the only thing she could think of. She brushed invisible dust off her top before making her way across the street.

"Duckie!" she inwardly cringes at the old-timey nickname that came out of her mouth as she approached Steven.

"I'm so sorry for being late, traffic was god awful...an absolute nightmare. Eventually, I just decided to walk the rest of the way." she apologized.

Steven looked at her with wide eyes, taking in her appearance, and couldn't quite believe she was real for a moment before he snapped out of it and swiftly stood up from his seat.

"No worries darling, I'm just glad you were able to make it." he rounds the table to pull the chair out for her.

She gives him a soft smile before taking a seat and letting Steven push her in. Then he returns to his own chair and pulls up to the table. He then looks at her once more, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she's here right now.

"I'm so sorry, Steven. The last couple of days, I got busy and stuck in my head...I forgot to tell you that today was Sunday." she says softly.

He shakes his head slightly, "I'm still so lost...it was Thursday last I remember and suddenly it's Sunday. And Dylan told me to lose her number..."

Diana reaches across the table and laid her hand on top of his.

"Well, don't worry about it...she didn't deserve you anyway. You can do a lot better than her."

She internally cringed once again. Was she really about to do this? After a few weeks of friendship, was she really about to jeopardize that? Ever since that tour, he'd given her due to her recommendation...she had quickly developed feelings for the brunet and it was new to her. Even after being on Earth for seven thousand years, she's never felt the feelings that Steven gave her before.

Steven tilted his head as he looked at her, wondering where her mind was at. Before he could ask what she meant, the waiter came by with the steak he had ordered after getting off the phone with Dylan. Diana grabbed the man's wrist before he could set the plate down though.

"Sorry sir, but we can't have this steak."

"Diana, it's alright," Steven interjected, not wanting to waste the waiter's time anymore.

She looks at him for a moment before letting go of the waiter's wrist. He sets the plate down on the table and was about to walk away.

"Can you bring us a salad too? Thanks," she calls after him.

"You didn't have to do that. I would've been fine with the steak." Steven tells her.

"Steven, you're vegan. I'm not about to let you eat something that goes against that," she stated.

The brunet gives her a small smile, touched by her looking out for him. He was glad to have a friend like her, even if it took him a bit to get used to her outwardly signs of affection. Which reminded him...

"What did you mean, earlier? When you said that I could do better than Dylan." he wonders.

The dirty blonde paused in her movements, having taken to cutting up the steak when he asked his inquiry.

"Um...just that...well...ya know...uhh..." she trails off, not quite wanting to really put the words out there.

Seven thousand years of existence and she wasn't prepared for this moment. She's battled Deviants for a few centuries, watched her best friend walk away from her, and tried to help as her good friend had imprisoned an entire small town to make herself the perfect life, and yet admitting that she had feelings frightened her.

"Diana?" Steven calls her name gently to regain her attention.

Blue-green eyes met his dark brown ones and she takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

"I'm sorry...this isn't easy for me to admit aloud." she apologizes.

He gives her a soft smile, "It's okay, you take your time."

She takes a moment to think her words over before saying them aloud.

"F-for a while now...uh...well, more like since you eagerly gave me a tour...I um..." she takes a pause for breath, "I might've...started to um...I may have uh...shoot this is a lot harder than I thought...hang on I can do this...I may have startedtohavefeelingsforyouromanticfeelingsthatis" she confessed it all in one breath.

Steven had given his undivided attention to Diana, waiting for her to speak her mind and then he had to process what she had said in the end. His dark brown eyes went wide once it processed.

"Y-you...uh...r-really? M-me? Are...are you sure? B-because why would you...I mean...you could do so much better than me." he tells her, his insecurities making themselves known.

Diana set her fork down and reached out to hold Steven's hand, "What are you talking about? There is nobody better than you, Steven. You're sweet, intelligent, caring and not to mention handsome. I honestly believe that there isn't a guy out there who is better than you. Besides, even if there was it wouldn't matter to me because I'm choosing you." she confesses with conviction.

Steven stared at her in awe as her confession rolled off her tongue with ease, his cheeks turning a bright pink at her words. Subconsciously, he squeezed her hand a bit tighter. He thought over his words carefully before replying to her confession.

"I...I feel the same way. I just...are you sure that I'm the one you want?" he asks in uncertainty.

"Yes, absolutely. No matter what, always and forever," she says with complete certainty.

The waiter finally returned with the salad and set it down in front of Steven before walking away.

"Okay, now that your food is also here and we've gotten confessions out of the way. Let's eat." Diana tells him.

He nods in agreement and the two of them enjoy dinner together. They made small talk about Egyptian lore as they ate, smiling and laughing with one another. Once they finished eating, the pair argued over paying the bill.

"I should be the one to pay the bill. I'm the one who ordered the steak in the first place." Steven tells her.

"So? I added the salad." Diana argued.

"Please, let me pay for this?" Steven requested.

She sighs, "Okay, okay. Fine, you can pay for this dinner. But I'm paying for the next date."

He smiles and pays the bill then the pair get up from the table and go for a walk instead of heading straight back to their flats. They continued on with their conversation from dinner as they walked under the moonlight, now talking about anything and everything.

Diana listened intently as Steven rambled on, smiling softly as she watched him talk so eagerly, hands waving around as he spoke. Eventually, the duo made their way back to the building of their flats, riding up in the lift together and heading towards their respective flats.

"Oh Gods, I...I meant to give these to you when you joined me at the table." Steven holds the box of chocolates and bouquet of flowers out to Diana.

The Lunar Eternal giggles slightly before taking the gifts from his outstretched hands.

"Thank you very kindly."

He smiles softly at her, looking at her in adoration.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asks.

"Of course, silly. We still have work." she smiles.

"Right, you're right. See you tomorrow then," he says.

"Absolutely, I'll make you breakfast. Try and get some sleep, Steven," she tells him.

He gives her a nod and turns to unlock his door but before he could head inside Diana stepped up and gave him a peck on the cheek, watching his cheeks immediately turn pink.

"Goodnight, Duckie~" she smirks at his flushed face before taking a step back from Steven and enters her flat.

Once recovering from Diana's sudden affection, Steven stepped into his own flat and closed the door behind him, applying his strip of blue tape to the door before going about doing the rest of his routine for the night.

~~~~~~~~

When Diana went across the hall the next morning to wake Steven up and invite him over for breakfast, there was no answer. She thought it was a little odd since she had mentioned that she was going to be making breakfast for him but, thought nothing more of it.

She got ready for work and knocked on Steven's door once more but still got no answer. It was then that she had a feeling about what was going on. Being as old as she was, she was very observant...noticing the tiniest of details in a person or in her surroundings. It's how she and the others managed to survive for so long, that and taking care of the Deviants once and for all.

When she had been following after Steven and she noticed the slight difference in him, she did some research. Steven's alter must be in charge and he doesn't even know it.

She made her way to work but when she got there, she could feel a dark presence inside the building from the stairs out front. The dirty blonde quickly made her way inside and instantly began searching for Steven, having a gut feeling that he was in trouble.

She found Steven in the Egyptian wing of the museum, being questioned by Arthur Harrow. She hid behind a display, not wanting to be seen by him or his followers yet, listening in on the conversation to pinpoint the exact moment to get Steven to safety.

"There's chaos in you," Harrow tells Steven.

"There's what?" Steven asked in confusion.

A door opened up behind Steven and Diana took the opportunity to come out from hiding and grab Steven's arm, quickly pulling him along while also keeping her head down so Harrow couldn't recognize her. When she felt like they were a safe distance away from Harrow and his followers, she let go of Steven and turned to face him.

"Are you alright?" she asks in concern, worried about him.

"Y-yeah, think so. Thanks for savin me," he tells her.

"Of course, that man seemed really scary," she comments.

"You have no idea." he mutters.

He looks around one more time before coming to a realization, "Oh bollocks, I'm supposed to be doing inventory."

"No worries, I'll help you out. And I won't be taking "no" for an answer. I offered so I'm following through with it." she states.

He sighs, "Okay, alright. I won't argue with you."

"Good, because you wouldn't have won it anyways." She smirks.

She then takes his hand into hers, "To the stockroom, we go! Allons-y!"

He can't help but smile at her upbeat mood even though they were just going to be logging in inventory. He follows behind her as she leads him by his hand towards the stockroom of the museum.

Once they reached the doors to the stockroom, Steven lets go of her hand to pull a set of keys out of his pocket and went through the key ring in search of the right key. When he finds it, he inserts it into the keyhole and unlocks the door to the stockroom. The brunet holds it open for his companion and the dirty blonde gives him a smile before entering the room, he enters in after her.

"Alright, hopefully with the two of us working through this...we'll be able to get at least partially through some of this stock," Diana says, trying to be optimistic about their situation.

"I think we can do it. Let's get started." Steven says in return.

The two get to work, Steven goes behind the counter to man the scanner while Diana brings a couple of boxes over to start off with. But she decides to set the boxes in front of the counter where he can't reach them and hops up onto the counter, moving around til she was sitting sideways so she could see Steven and crossing her legs so she was sitting criss-cross apple sauce, before she leans over to grab a few items then set them on the counter in front of her so Steven could scan them.

The pair worked in the stockroom until closing. The lights shutting off indicating that it was closing time. Diana hops down from the counter as Steven rounds said counter. They began to make their way out of the museum when they heard a strange sound coming from the room behind them, it almost sounded like a wounded animal.

"Oh, bloody hell," Steven mutters.

The janitor that was mopping the floor doesn't seem to notice the sound though. Steven and Diana share a look with one another before looking in the direction that they heard the noise come from, eventually deciding to head that way.

"Hello? Donna?" Steven called out.

Diana trailed behind Steven, now on guard for anything lurking in the darkness. The wounded animal sound changed into the sound of a dog howling.

"J.B?" Steven tries.

"Pets allowed in the museum?" Diana questioned.

Steven shrugged. The new, unofficial couple continue slinking through the darkness of the closed museum, looking for the dog in question.

"Here, boy," Steven calls before whistling.

The dog seems to stop making noises as he calls out for it, which the duo notes.

"Hello? Where are you, you little bugger?" Steven wonders aloud.

He turns towards a glass display, looking at his duplicated reflection before continuing on. But, Diana lingers behind for a couple of moments and notices that the two reflections don't move on.

She suddenly heard a loud growl from behind her and she turned her head, yet she couldn't see anything. That made her hurry to catch up with Steven, wanting to protect him from the unseen threat that was lurking around.

"Here, boy," Steven calls out again before whistling once more.

"Steven, we should just go. The dog might've found another way out." Diana tells him.

"There ain't no way. It would've had to pass us to get out." Steven says.

"Steven...I don't like this. We should go." she fakes being scared, hoping it'll make him want to leave.

Steven stops walking and turns around to look at her, taking in her frightened expression.

"It's alright, luv. We'll find the little bugger and then leave," he assures her.

He turns again and starts walking once more. She groans softly in annoyance before following him. The duo turned a corner and then they hear a monstrous growling sound.

Steven immediately started to back away slowly and Diana let him move behind her, moving into a protective stance. He ducked down behind a display case, pulling her down with him. She laid down in front of him, back against his chest with his arms wrapped around her chest, when the intercom speaker chimed overhead.

"Steven Grant of the gift shop. Give me the scarab and you won't be torn apart." Arthur Harrow's voice came over the intercom.

The growling seemed louder and then Steven seemed to have an idea. He unwrapped his arms from around Diana's torso before grabbing ahold of his bag and tosses it aside as a distraction. Something seems to jump out of the shadows but, Diana couldn't see the monstrous creature.

Steven nudged her to get up before motioning for her to follow him and they crept along the darkness, trying to stay out of sight of whatever was lurking around. He accidentally backs into a display and nearly knocked over a vase but, was quick to catch it.

"Run!" Steven says after a brief moment of silence.

He grabs Diana's hand and pulls her behind him as he starts running. Even though she can't see whatever was chasing after them, she could definitely hear it jumping onto the walls as it hunted them. They run throughout the museum, trying to get to safety.

The monstrous beast seems to land on Steven and Diana quickly shoves at the invisible thing in hopes of pushing it off of him before picking him up and pulling him along this time. She keeps a level head as he screams in fright, left arm bent up close to his chest as it had been mildly injured.

The pair run down a corridor and Diana pulls down a shelf just as the creature burst through the doors. Steven attempts to open a door but, of course he has to scan his employee card which takes too long in a moment of flight. He finally managed to get a door open and quickly grabbed Diana's arm to pull her in with him.

Steven quickly shut the door of the bathroom behind her then slowly backed away from said door as the creature attempted to get in. She stood in front of him as she stared at the door.

"We are to not interfere in human conflicts unless Deviants are involved."

Of course this would be the moment when Ajak's words would ring in Diana's mind, reminding her that the Eternals were forbidden from impeding in human conflicts. Her hands clenched by her sides preparing for a fight even though she knew she shouldn't fight this battle nor could she see the offending beast.

"No, what...Control of what? What are you talking about?" she hears Steven ask.

She looks over her shoulder to see him talking to his reflection. Steven suddenly spins around, attention focused on the door and not Diana looking at him.

"Damn it! No! No! No!" Steven says, slapping himself in the face before turning to the mirror again. "You're not real. None of this is real."

He looks back at the door, now with dents in it, fear evident in his dark brown eyes.

"Oh, God. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." he mutters to himself.

"Hey," Diana calls out, making Steven turn from the mirror and to her.

"You're not going to die." she says, unbeknownst to her, at the same time as the man in the mirror.

Steven looks back at the mirror on his left and stares in to it. Diana looks over as well, but all she can see is himself reflecting back to him. She watches as he turns his head away from the mirror and seems to be thinking things over before he was slowly nodding his head.

Her blue-green eyes widened in alarm when Steven started to seize, eyes rolling back into his head. The bathroom door came crashing down in that exact moment, causing the dirty blonde to spin around and try to discern where the creature was.

Unfortunately, before she could...she was smacked aside, back slamming into a sink then crumpling to the ground. She then watches as Steven's body becomes enveloped in a white wraps until it becomes a suit with a hood, cape and a crescent moon on the chest.

The Lunar Eternal watches the fight that occurs in the bathroom, although it looks one sided to her. Staring at the white outfit, the familiarity finally clicked within her and she finally understood what the familiar presence was. The creature was pummeled into the ground and defeated, "Steven" turned around and went to walk out without Diana until she spoke aloud.

"Of course, it all makes sense now."

The masked vigilante turned around and looked at her, solid white eyes gazing down at her before he picked her up off the floor and took her with him, throwing her over his shoulder.

-Next Up-

Taglist:

@megangst

@jupitersmoon167

#Nach Mera Hero #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #MCU #Marvel Imagine #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel Imagines #Moon Knight #Eternals #Crossover Fic #Moon Knight Imagine #Eternals Imagine #Moonknight Imagine #Moon Knight Imagines #Eternals Imagines #Moonknight Imagines #Steven Grant x Eternal!OC #Steven Grant Imagine #Steven Grant Imagines #Arthur Harrow #Jackel

[mgparker]

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour. 

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you. 

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders. 

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you. 

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about. 

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look. 

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone. 

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly. 

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh. 

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon. 

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met. 

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before. 

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again. 

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table. 

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.  

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits. 

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question. 

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure. 

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.” 

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time. 

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes. 

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it. 

Not that you wanted to. 

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment-- 

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours. 

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed. 

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way. 

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week. 

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace. 

Acceptance. 

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch. 

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys. 

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy. 

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you. 

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god. 

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar. 

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity. 

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you. 

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it. 

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back. 

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you. 

“What does that even mean?” You groaned. 

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under. 

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly. 

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all. 

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well. 

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

#marc spector angst #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon boys #moonknight #moon knight #Marc Spector #Steven grant #jake lockley #oscar Isaac #marvel #f!reader #angst #character death #character wound #mgparker

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

taglist:

@pcrushinnerd @since-im-already-here @am-3-thyst @aug-ust69 @hangmanslover @suddenlysteven @nxonlights @lwjmoonchild7 @o-zenith-o @amasdaydream @may-tulip @skarrkiie @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @lxne20 @sangwoahsbat @orihimi-19 @purple-amaranthe @autismsupermusicalassassin @mt2sssss @angie2274 @dancing-pinky-flower @y2kbratzqouturr @brekkers-desigirl @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @softdvng0dness87 @venomous-ko @grilled-steak @emily-roberts @airzonaaa @yomoms-stuff @mess-of-fandom @winter-soul @insomniacrobyn

i couldn't tag some of you, just check that your settings allow for mentions :))

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #khonshu #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #moonknight fic #moonknight #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x reader

[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

[mikrowrites]

fate goes pt. 5

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n says goodbye to the love of her life and resolves to stop harrow once and for all; y/n frees khonshu from his banishment 

warnings: angst, death, fighting, language, threatening, more tears, dark themes, EPISODE 6 SPOILERS

shait: god/dess of fate and destiny

“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

All was silent for a few moments. The echo of the gunshots had faded, the crashing sound as body met water had also disappeared. It was as though every breathing person within the room had for only a few seconds become stilled. 

Then the bodies melted, reality settling in and finality creeping forward. Footsteps on stand, rustling of fabric, clanking of metal, hands grasping out to pull at wet textiles. 

Y/n watched as Harrow and his goons roughly pulled Marc’s body from the water surrounding the sarcophagus, searching his body for the ushabti. She clutched the stone relic in her hands, her bottom lip trembling. 

She knew that wherever she ran with the ushabti, the scarab would lead them directly to her. There was no where she could go they would not find her. 

But at least that meant she wouldn’t give it up without a fight. 

“Careful, child.” Shait spoke into her ear. “This cannot go well.”

“I have a plan.” Y/n whispered back, before walking forwards, stepping out of the shadows, the ushabti held in her grasp as she extended it out before her, giving a full view of it to her enemies. “Looking for something?”

The men immediately poised their guns up at her, but Harrow raised his hand in cease, causing the weapons to be lowered. “Interesting... not putting up a fight?”

“Yeah. Marc tried, look where it got him.” Y/n bluntly replied, the words killing her inside. 

“And what does your god have to say about this?” He slowly stood. 

Y/n shrugged. “You spent too much time with Khonshu. Some avatars don’t always have to do as their gods dictate.”

Harrow smirked, stepping forwards and holding out his hand. Y/n stepped forwards, offering the ushabti up. He grasped it, attempting to take it before Y/n tightened her grip.

They looked into each others eyes, the woman exhaling before letting go. 

He stepped away with the ushabti, looking out to his men as Y/n stayed standing where she was. “Who’s ready to heal the world?”

Harrow sent a final smirk her way before leaving with his men. Shait was loud in her mind. “Y/n, what have you done?!”

She was quiet as she walked over to Marc, her face collapsing as she stared at his body. He seemed almost asleep, his eyes gently closed and his body relaxed. 

Y/n might’ve thought him passed out if it weren’t for the absence of the rise and fall of his chest and the two bullet holes. 

Y/n fell to her knees next to him, letting the sobs rip from her throat as she gently placed her palm on his cheek. After a few moments she let herself lay her head on his chest, her body shaking with every cry. She raised her head up, and as she had done several years past, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered in his ear. She sat up, roughly wiping her tears away with her hands, standing and getting ready to leave the room.

Suddenly, she noticed a glint in the corner of her eye. Y/n walked up to the sarcophagus where she noticed the scarab laying on top. She held the golden relic in her hand, furrowing her eyebrows and tightening her fingers around it. 

“You can’t stop him alone. It’s suicide.” Shait spoke. 

“Then you’ll find another avatar when I die that can stop him.” Y/n hissed. 

“Your life is irreplaceable.” Shait shook their head. 

“I find that hard to believe.” Y/n frowned, clenching the scarab tighter in her palm. 

Shait manifested in front of the woman. “Y/n L/n, you are unlike any other human being that ever has been and ever will be. So please, I implore you, to tread lightly in this fight.”

Y/n smirked in response. 

“Don’t worry; I’ve got luck on my side.”

Y/n had found one of the trucks outside, hotwiring it to speed across the dunes, careening her way towards the pyramid of Giza. She had a strong hunch, and if she was right, the avatars would be summoned to the inside due to the overworld disturbance. 

“I’ve spoken with Taweret.” Shait spoke, sitting in the passenger seat. 

“Taweret? Like, hippo goddess Taweret?” Y/n asked. 

Shait nodded their head in acknowledgement. “We’ve determined the best course of action is to free Khonshu.”

Y/n snapped her head towards the god. “What? Free Khonshu?”

“His power could potentially stand a chance against Ammit.” Shait responded. “You must retrieve his ushabti and break it to release him.”

“Alright.” Y/n nodded. “Sounds simple enough.”

Shait smirked, turning to face their avatar. “I’ve also made some... stylistic choices... for you when the time comes.”

Y/n brought the car to a halt in front of the great pyramid, turning to her god with a raised eyebrow. “No capes, deal?”

The god smirked in return. 

Y/n allowed Shait to open a portal into the pyramid, stepping into the gold gilded room. She was surprised to be met with the avatars of Osiris and Hathor. 

“Avatar of Shait.” The avatar of Osiris acknowledged. “The disturbance. Even your god felt it too. But what does it mean?” 

More avatars began pouring into the room, the avatar of Hathor nodding. “Someone is trying to release Ammit.”

“But why?” Another avatar asked. 

“Harrow.” Y/n darkly replied, before suddenly the far wall began to rumble and break apart, revealing the aforementioned man and his followers. 

The avatars all stood before the men, Y/n sucking in a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Shait towered over the woman, shouting loudly to her. “The ushabti! Find it now! Free Khonshu!”

Y/n nodded, quietly slipping away from the crowd of avatars, falling back into a hallway before bursting into a run, barreling down the winding halls of the great pyramid of Giza. 

She could hear the distant shouting, the horrid sounds of her fellow avatars being slain. She skidded to a stop as she reached the room holding the stone figures of the banished gods. 

Y/n ran her fingers over several, searching for the right one until she caught sight of Khonshu’s ushabti. She cast her eyes over it, before whipping her head back at the sound of rumbling throughout the pyramid followed by a loud thud. 

“Ammit has been released!” Shait cried out. “Do it now, Y/n!”

Y/n tightly grasped the ushabti, letting out a yell as with all her strength she threw it to the ground. The dust of the broken stone swirled in spirals, allowing the bird-like god to regain his form. 

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world.” Khonshu bluntly growled. “He died fighting, no doubt.”

The air felt punched out of Y/n’s lungs with those words. “Fighting your war.” Y/n growled. 

“And it’s far from over.” Shait replied, Khonshu acknowledging their presence. 

“Ah, Shait.” He drawled. “Come to see your fortune misread?”

“I don’t read minds, Khonshu.” Shait monotonously frowned. “We need to stop Harrow and Ammit.”

Khonshu turned his attention over to Y/n. “We must rebind Ammit.”

“How?” She asked. 

“Only an avatar can do it.” He simply spoke, before he transported out from the room. 

Shait turned to their avatar. “I must aide Khonshu against Ammit. Go and find if there are any more living avatars, you need them to bind Ammit.” The god lowered down to their avatar’s level, letting their foreheads rest against each other. “As of this moment, your fate is in your own hands.”

Y/n closed her eyes, opening them as she felt a warm feeling cascade across her body, looking down to see an intricate armored outfit developing across her body. 

Her cargo pants and t-shirt were replaced with a golden wrist cuffs, a gold broad necklace and chestplate, with white and gold fabrics and a golden headpiece. As she stretched her arms out, several golden feathers extended out to form a pair of wings. 

The woman looked up, her irises glowing a brilliant warm golden glow. 

After all, the words she had spoken to Shait earlier were true:

She had luck on her side. 

tag list: @1950schick @obnoxioussmiley @rosaren2498​ @shirukitsune​

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #marc spector x avatar!reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x avatar!reader #moonknight x reader #moonknight imagine #moonknight imagines #moonknight x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu x y/n #mcu imagines #mcu x reader

[jayden-killer]

Just read your Steven headcanons and I’m currently sobbing in the corner. Could I request a headcanon list where he actually has a partner? Like a person who will hold him when he cries and just GIVE HIM THE AFFECTION HE DESERVES 😭😭😭

Anon, OFC U CAN! I'm feeling super romantic today, so consider yourself lucky *winks* now, enjoy your request!^^

STEVEN GRANT WITH A S/O HEADCANONS.

• Dating Steven is like dating Mr. Darcy in real life. He's a gentleman, respectful in your whises and boundaries, and doesn't indulge in things you don't want to. He actually cares. And of course, he loves you. He will do anything to show you how much you mean to him.

• His love language is physical contact and words of affirmation. Both are important to him. He's a very cuddly lover. Always stealing glances, whispering how lovely you are today, while even brushing his calloused thumb on your hand palm.

• In his no moments, he needs to be held. Someone needs to remind him that he matters and that it is okay to let out the bottled-up emotions. We know his childhood and Marc's. Hold him tight next to your chest, let him hear your heartbeat and caress gently his hair. "You're good, Steven, you're good. I'm here. I won't hurt you like the others did."

• You'll share cute moments in the rain, picturing yourselves in a 'La La Land' scene!!

• Or also quiet moments where, the two of you, are cuddling under a warm blanket and reading the books you've bought while being on a "bookstore date".

• Won't mind if you both share your shampoos. So you can smell each other perfume and giggle about it.

• If you are that close to each other and move in his apartment, he'll probably buy another fish and put it in Gus' tank. So now he'll have another companion and won't be alone anymore!

• At the beginning of your relationship, Marc and Jake weren't absolutely fond of you. Don't blame them. They've been backstabbed many times (let's mention the comics too...) and don't want Steven, the most fragile, to experience something like this anymore. Give them time, let them be close to you, and know you, and they will open with each small step.

• If you're a student, he would help you with your assignments/homework. Prepare you your favourite drink. But if you need to be alone and focus on your papers, he'll shush himself up with no hesitations.

• Your guys' official song is: Late Night Talking by Harry Styles.

• He prefers to be held in bed. He is the little spoon. Enjoys your body's warmth and nuzzles his nose in your neck, sometimes leaving pecks on it and smiling at the thought of being so lucky to have found a loyal and loving partner as you.

#marvel imagine #marvel x reader #oneshot #moonknight x reader #moon knight #steven grant x you #steven grant headcanons #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight series #moon knight headcanon #moon knight x reader #moonknight headcanons #fluff #sfw

[ijustwant2write]

Membership Pass-Steven Grant x Reader

(GIF credit to @stevenrogered)

MASTERLIST

Requested by anonymous: 'Imagine Reader meeting Steve at the museum and both are super shy 🥺but since then they come across each other everyday and it's really cute 🥺'

Characters: Steven Grant x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just fluff 😊

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

(Y/N) beamed as she stepped into the museum. She hadn't visited since she was little, it had changed so much, but that only meant she had more exhibits to see. She didn't care that she was by herself, no one was there to distract her. She could really focus on the history on display.

Her whole day was spent there, and a day we'll spent in (Y/N)'s opinion. She knew there were others around her that also appreciated the displays and information set out, though there were also a lot of children either fascinated or bored during their trip. Just like when she was a little girl, she ended the trip with a visit to the gift shop.

Steve was obviously bored, repricing items that were headed for clearance, the stupid and inaccurate toys mocked him almost. As he carelessly stuck new price stickers on the items, he noticed a woman waltz in, staring a little too long. He couldn't help it, she was beautiful. Steven assumed she would walk through to the exit, it was always kids and their parents who stayed to buy something. He was surprised when she saw her jaw drop at the sight of something.

(Y/N) rushed over to the Egyptian section, spotting the newest book by her favourite author. It was another installment from the author who studied all aspects of Egyptian life, and it was exclusively released to the museum first. She picked up one from the pile, seeing that she had grabbed one of the signed copies. With a big grin on her face, she made her way to the till, already wanting to flick through the papers.

Steven clumsily fumbled with the sticker machine, almost dropping it on the floor as he scurried over. He tried to play it off by laughing when he got there, greeting the woman with blushing cheeks.

"Hi."

"Hi." she smiled back.

"You seemed excited to pick this one up."

"Yeah, well, I have all the other books in the collection so far. And I realised literally as I walked in here that the new one is being sold here so of course I have to get it."

Steven was in awe. There were hardly any customers that would know of this author, let alone want to buy a book from the museum in the first place.

"I have all the books too!" Steven exclaimed."Volume one is always my favourite though."

"Egyptian gods? Yeah, that's a good one. You're so lucky to work in a place like this."

"The gift shop? Nah, it's not as good as being on the floor, you know, like a tour guide."

"That does sound fun."

"The shop or the tours?"

She laughed."Sorry, I have to go with the tours."

He let out a short chuckle as he scanned the book, grabbing a gift bag as she got out her card.

"Oh, I have one of those member cards to scan!" she quickly whipped it out.

"Oh cool, so you've got yearly access to the museum." he took it from her to scan.

"Yep, it was a present from my parents. I've just moved to London because of my new job, but they knew I would want to come here all the time. I was so excited when they gave it to me, it was even better than the new TV they helped me buy." (Y/N) froze before she could talk any further."Sorry, I talk a lot when I get excited."

This shop assistant was so cute, and here she was embarrassing herself. She saw his name was Steven from the name tag, noting that it was with a 'V' and not a 'ph'. As he returned her card, he dropped it on the counter, both of them fumbling to pick it up, cringing as their hands brushed multiple times.

"So, that's thirteen pounds and fifty pence please." Steven said when they recovered.

She tapped her phone on the card machine, thanking him as he put the receipt in the bag and slid it over.

"Will you be visiting again soon?" Steven dared to ask.

"Yeah, I think I most definitely will be."

They shared a smile before she walked away, shoulders tensing up from how giddy she was.

"My name is Steven by the way!" he called after her.

(Y/N) turned around."I know. Because of the name tag! I'm not a stalker!"

He nodded as they laughed again, (Y/N) about to walk away when she remembered she hadn't told him her name.

"Oh, I'm (Y/N) by the way. It was really nice to meet you."

They were both bashful as their conversation ended. Steven had a bit more spring in his step for the rest of the day, hoping (Y/N) would become a regular visitor who he would be seeing more often. (Y/N) now had another reason to come to the museum, maybe she would grow the confidence to speak to him for more than five minutes.

The week passed, Steven being nagged by Donna and (Y/N) was settling into her new workplace. But it was now Saturday, the weekend, it was time for (Y/N) to head to the museum again. She got up extra early this time, hoping to catch Steven before the rush. Although she had been in high spirits the whole way there, she halted outside the doors, wondering if Steven was even working. Of course (Y/N) would still enjoy her time there, though she had wanted to talk to Steven again.

(Y/N) felt silly as she walked in, scanning her membership card. She had dressed up more, made an effort. It was still a casual look, she just wanted to give off a good impression to Steven. Who was she kidding? She had never even been asked on a date, how was she going to speak with this guy?

Although she tried to walk around the exhibits, take down her own notes of anything interesting, she couldn't keep her mind off of Steven. He was just so handsome, and cute, and so adorable when he spoke. It was clear he was shy too, though that made him more attractive. They also shared a big interest, something they were both passionate about. (Y/N) really hoped he was working today.

Steven had dashed through the museum, running late for work again. He prayed Donna wouldn't catch him, hopefully she hadn't noticed his absence yet. Luckily there weren't many visitors yet, so he got away with running through the halls. But he spotted someone familiar, only for a second, but it still made him stop, almost skidding across the room on the polished floors. It was her, and she looked beautiful.

"(Y/N)?" he cautiously said as he approached her.

"Steven!"

The way she said his name gave him butterflies.

"Long time no see." he joked.

"I did say I would be a regular."

"That's great, not many people devote their time to the museum."

"I love it, I always have."

There was a short silence before an idea popped into his head."Um ...I was actually wondering...My lunch break is at one, did you, like, want to have lunch together or something?"

(Y/N) felt herself blushing, heart racing. Would this be a date?

"Yeah, I'd love that!"

Too enthusiastic (Y/N).

"Great! I'll meet you by the Egyptian section?" Steven hoped it wasn't too on the nose.

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

Steven nodded, mumbling out 'bye' before he really had to make sure he got to the shop before Donna. (Y/N) was relieved that she had made an effort into her outfit, though she knew Steven ultimately wouldn't have minded what she wore.

One o'clock took it's time to get to. Both Steven and (Y/N) had glanced at the clock or phone too many times. Steven had to deal with customers bribing their bratty children with toys, whilst (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on any of the information she read. Her eyes would skim over the words but nothing would register. When it was five to one, (Y/N) made her way to the meeting point, trying to look around for Steven ut not making it too obvious.

Steven had his lunchbox and flask in his hands, quickly making his way to the Egyptian area. He was excited, could this be a date? Oh, what if it was? He kicked himself for not asking her out properly, they could have at least gone to a nice cafe nearby. It was too late now anyway, as he had spotted her.

"Hi." Steven grinned.

She turned around at the sound of his voice."Hi. Oh you were smart bringing a packed lunch. I had to go buy mine."

"Oh, I would have bought it for you! I was the one who suggested lunch in the first place."

"It's OK, I really don't mind."

"As long as you're sure."

She nodded."So, where shall we sit?"

"I've got just the place."

He guided her through the halls of artifacts, finding a bench pressed against a wall. Opposite was a huge tapestry, it was faded but you could still clearly make out what was weaved on it; there were pictures of God's and humans, (Y/N) knew what it was instantly.

"Journey to the afterlife." she muttered.

"Yeah, I just thought, lunch with a view." Steven nervously said.

"A very good view indeed."

They tucked into their lunches, speaking when they weren't chewing about the piece in front of them. Steve knew he didn't have a lot of time for his break, but there was so much he wanted to know about her.

"Can I ask, what got you so interested in all this?"

"Egyptians?"

He nodded.

"I dunno, I think... Well for starters, I love all history, I could talk about anything in the past, you know, Tudors, Romans, Aztecs, Victorians. But, something just drew me to this, I found it all so beautiful and fascinating. I wish I had persued it in uni or something, and not just as a hobby."

"Why didnt you?"

"My parents have always been supportive, but we weren't very well off. I think they were worried that I would end up with little money if I went down that route, they encouraged me to do something other than history. And I do like my job, I've got good colleagues and I'm able to afford rent in the capital! It's not the greatest flat in the world I'll admit but it's still a place I'm paying for."

"Good for you. That's really admirable."

"Thanks Steven, that's a very sweet thing to say."

He mentally high fived himself, he was doing a good job here.

"What about you? Why aren't you a tour guide?"

"Same sort of story really. I would love to be one. It just feels good telling people all this information you know, and then seeing their eyes light up at things they never knew about. The kids faces are funny when they hear about how mummies were actually made."

"I can imagine. At least we can still enjoy the exhibits I suppose."

"Yeah." Steven glanced at his watch, he only had ten minutes left, and he had to be back at the shop sharp."Hey, um, I was thinking...Maybe we make this a regular thing? And perhaps we could also go out for dinner sometime?"

(Y/N) tried not to giggle in glee, feeling herself turn red."Like, a date?"

"Yeah, only if you want it to be. I would like that."

"Yes. I would gladly go out with you. On a date."

"Perfect!"

They were smiling widely at one another, not sure of the next move to make.

"I have to get back to work, but will I see you on your way out?"

"Of course. I really liked having lunch together."

"Me too. Discuss details of our 'date' later?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later."

"Laters gators."

Steven turned quickly before he could regret what he said. Why? Why did he have to end it like that? At least he could be happy knowing he had a date with a girl he really fancied. And he was also looking forward to her finishing her visit, he had to think of somewhere to go now.

(Y/N)'s cheeks were aching from how much she was smiling. She had a date! It was her first date! What was she going to wear? Should she bring a bottle of wine? But they were surely going out so why would she do that? (Y/N) had to remind herself that they hadn't even said what they were doing, that would be discussed later. Just like before, (Y/N) couldn't concentrate on anything in front of her, daydreaming about her date with Steven. She was going to have a shorter trip today, just so she could see Steven sooner, she thought. What a great reason to visit the museum every week.

#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 #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 #Marvel one shot #Marvel x reader #Marvel fanfic #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel fan fic #Marvel fan fiction

[fandomgal64]

Hi, Y’all!

I’m new to tumblr and just finding my way around.

I decided I’m gonna make a page for moon knight and everything moon knight related…

I didn’t expect this tv show to reach me the way it did, considering I didn’t even wanna watch it at first. But after the first episode I was hooked and now obsessed! 😂

So I write:

- headcannons

- requests

- prompts

- short imagines

- long imagines

- Nsfw stuff

Etc....

Disclaimer: At the moment I'm only writing for Steven, Marc and Jake. So if you want me to write for anyone else just send me a Dm or comment! :)

#moon knight #moon knight theory #moonknight fanfic #moonknight imagines #moonlight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #layla el faouly #layla spector #khonshu #gods of egypt #egyptian #god #goddess #marvel #marvel mcu #fanfic #imagines