#jake lockley hurt comfort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loki-hargreeves · 2 years

Text

An Eye For An Eye

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader, Steven Grant x f!Reader, Jake Lockley x f!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Kidnapping, graphic descriptions of violence, death threats/thoughts of dying, mentions of body mutilation [doesn’t happen though], using a gun for self-defense, character death [murder], mentions of blood, dark undertones, hurt/comfort, angst, vulgar language, some references to Moon Knight comics, Marc is very sad, loads of crying, somewhat of a fluffy ending

Word Count: 13K [oops..]

Summary: Raul Bushman has a personal grudge against Marc Spector and he takes it out on you. When he kidnaps you, he taunts Marc by sending a video of you as his hostage. With the help of Khonshu, the Moon boys come to your rescue - which is unfortunate for Raul. Once you’re safe again, Marc can’t bring himself to face you because of the guilt so Steven and Jake take care of you.

A/N: Ok I realize it’s a bit bloody and teary but I had to get this out of my head. I hope you enjoy it! <3

DISCLAIMER! Please do not proceed to read this if the mentioned warnings and tags include topics that could possibly trigger or harm you. Take care of yourself.

“Darling, I’m home!” Steven’s cheerful voice replaced the silence of your shared flat as he finally came back home from work. The new museum he worked at was wonderful and his first week of being a tour guide had just come to an end. Steven was over the moon and knowing he was coming home to you only made him feel even better, as if he was literally walking on sunshine.

For once in his life, all seemed to be going so well. Steven felt invincible in a way. Little did he know of the drastic turn that would take place much sooner than anticipated.

When all he was met with was silence, Steven began to worry. Since you had told them you’d be home before them, it was odd that you weren’t there. Refusing to jump to conclusions, Steven pulled out his phone from his pocket and searched for you name in his contacts, calling you as he made his way further inside the apartment to inspect everything. The only sound he heard was the beeping dial tone.

You’d pick up and have an explanation. Everything was fine.

Steven turned the lights on and looked around the place. Your phone or wallet weren’t anywhere to be seen and the note he had left for you on the kitchen counter had been completely untouched. That was definitely odd. Usually you left a note for him too, especially if you were going somewhere. The bright, little notes were some of Steven’s favourite things.

“She’s not answering,” Steven said out loud, staring at the phone screen that let him know you hadn’t picked up the call. Marc and Jake were aware of what was going on, both of their minds racing to different places. Neither of those places were good.

Call her again, Marc demanded, trying hard not to let his fear get the best of him. Then again, Marc knew you. He knew that you would let them know if you wouldn’t show up when agreed. Perhaps for an ordinary couple, this wasn’t a big deal but Marc had enemies. Jake had enemies. Steven had them too, now. It was one of their greatest fears that one day those enemies would find you.

As Steven walked around the flat frantically, his heart began to beat harder all the way in his throat, it felt like. The dial tone was taunting him, making seconds feel like minutes as it kept on ringing.

“Pick up, pick up...please,” Steven made his way to the window, looking down at the London street that was illuminated by the yellow street lights. Darkness had swallowed the blue sky and you were somewhere out there, not picking up the phone. This was so unlike you and it gnawed at Steven’s heart. He didn’t even wish to imagine you in any sort of danger.

Shouldn’t have let her walk home at this hour alone! Jake had jumped to the worst conclusions. Steven looked at the man whose reflection showed up in the nearby mirror. Jake looked like he was about to explode from worry and anger, barely containing such intense feelings.

“Don’t say that!” Steven couldn’t bear it. There was no way he would let them assume the worst so soon. “Maybe she’s staying late. Let’s meet her half way, yeah? Come on, out we go!”

Steven was glad he hadn’t taken off his shoes yet as he rushed back outside, making sure he had his keys after the fact he had closed the front door and he was already in the elevator. The mirrors in the small space made it easy to see all the alters, yet somehow it wasn’t very comforting. Not when all of them were so clearly concerned over your safety. It was almost as if they just knew you weren’t staying late. This was much worse than that. There was a sick feeling in Steven’s gut as he stood there, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

The feeling was growing worse by the second, spreading like fire and tugging at his guts until he felt nauseous. What if Jake was right? What if you were hurt? Lying in a ditch somewhere, cold and beaten, all alone.

The notification sound of his phone snapped Steven out of his thoughts. He ripped the phone out of his pocket and felt a wave of relief crashing against him when he saw your name on the screen.

“Oh thank heavens,” Steven almost felt like laughing as he thought about how worried he felt. Overreacting never did any good for anyone. There he was now, unlocking his phone and waiting to see your message. In all honesty, Steven expected something short and simple, just letting him know you’d be able to call him soon. When he saw a video file with a pitch black background and no other message, the relief was stolen from him just as quickly as it had arrived.

Steven knew he had to open it but every cell in his body told him not to click it. He froze, brown eyes glued at the screen in terror as he anticipated what would happen next.

It was Marc who fronted next, taking control of the body as Steven took too long to think about his next actions. Marc pressed the play button and then took a deep breath, but nothing could’ve possibly prepared him for what they were all about to see.

The video began and immediately chains were more easily visible, leading up to you. There you were, chained to what looked like a bed in a dark room. The volume was on full but no sounds were heard. Whoever had filmed the video zoomed in on your face, eyelashes resting against your bloodied cheeks. To believe you were just asleep would've been foolish. Someone must've knocked you out one way or another, a realization that made Marc sick to his stomach. Blood was boiling in his body, so much so he could hear it in his ears and feel how his skin was set on fire with rage. Whoever did that to you would pay for it with their life. That was certain.

Suddenly, the person who was filming it flipped the camera and revealed his face. The man was smiling cruelly since he knew exactly who was watching the clip and how he was reacting. Marc recognized that evil gleam from anywhere since he knew this man extremely well. That was Raul Bushman. A mercenary, just like Marc used to be although these days Raul Bushman was better known as a fucking terrorist. Marc had hoped the past would stay in the past but evidently, it had not. Life wasn't ever that simple. Now Raul was there, in the present with you as his hostage. Knowing how wicked Raul was terrified Marc because he couldn't be sure he would find you in time.

Don't go there, you have to focus! Jake was already in action mode, planning on how they would track this man down and bring you back home safely. If they let panic overtake them then it could cost you your life. There was no way any of them could let that happen. Steven was dead silent for once, not finding a single thing to say at that moment. Fear had completely enveloped him, but not fear for his own sake. Steven was scared he'd never see you again and for what? Because a sick man wanted to hurt you? How was that fair?

"Marc Spector," Raul addressed Marc in the video, simultaneously letting Steven know that this was personal. Jake had recognized that tattooed face as well. Steven hadn't as Marc's memories of his mercenary past weren't something he could personally recall.

Marc was thinking about ripping Raul's face off as he anticipated what he was going to say next. Did he want money? That didn't seem likely. Whatever he wanted, Marc was willing to give it if he could get you back. The killing could happen afterwards.

"I've got your girl," Raul chuckled, enjoying this for some sick and twisted reason. "She's not very chatty anymore. You should've heard her earlier! Did you teach her to speak like that or did you find yourself a sailor? Very vulgar, Spector. So naughty."

Marc who is that? Steven's voice barely carried above a whisper as he stared at Marc from the reflection of the elevator mirror. The elevator had reached the first floor but they had no intentions of leaving just yet. Running around in circles with no leads would be a waste of time.

Marc ignored Steven and forced himself to keep watching the video, his grip on the phone so strong it was a miracle it hadn't snapped in half yet. That's when Jake began to explain things to Steven in the background, their words turning into a haze as Marc stood there, in utter shock and disbelief at it all. He could only watch as Raul flipped the camera over to you once again and that's when the tears threatened to spill. How could he have let something like this happen to you? The love of his life, the sweetest and most wonderful person that had ever walked the earth. Marc felt so guilty. If you were to die now he would never forgive himself. Not in a million years and more.

"I'm sure you'd love to hear some conditions or whatever but the truth is," Raul sighed dramatically as he caressed your cheek, wiping away the blood, "I have none. The only reason I'm doing this is because of you. I'm curious to know what made you so soft and pathetic. What a waste of a man you are."

Just like that, the video ended. Raul's words echoed in Marc's head loudly, drumming into his skull and every beat made him feel worse. Marc could hear Steven and Jake yelling but none of their words made sense. The overwhelming worry and anger were over-spilling and Marc couldn't take it. He turned on his heel and punched the mirror as hard as he could, letting out a pained and frustrated shout and most likely alarming everyone else in the building but he couldn't have cared less. The smashed mirror showed Marc thousands of small reflections as glass fell on the floor. Crimson red was running down his knuckles angrily, most likely dripping on the floor. Marc didn't care. He only cared about finding you.

So did Jake who took control, needing to work on his plan immediately and not let Marc or Steven waste any more time. Jake pressed the elevator button back to their floor, leaving blood on the buttons. Whoever walked into the elevator next would have a surprise awaiting them. Raul Bushman, on the other hand, had something much worse awaiting him. If he thought for one second that he was more powerful than them, he was wrong and Jake was going to hunt him down no matter what it took. Touching you was the biggest mistake the poor excuse of a man had ever made.

The first thing you noticed as consciousness was coming back to you was the dreadful headache you had. It made you whine in pain as you tried to roll over, only to realize you were unable to move your arms. Horror spread throughout you as you remembered what had happened, eyes popping open as you took in the dark surroundings. The room was dim and quite small too, with only a bed and a dresser. It didn't have a window so it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. As creepy as it was, it didn't smell bad. You had expected the thick copper scent of blood to linger in the air or of something foul and rotting. Perhaps the cleanliness meant you weren't in a creepy dungeon but instead in a preoccupied building? Was that a good thing or not? You didn't know.

Stay calm, you repeated that to yourself as you took a few deep breaths. Freaking out wouldn't do you any good but it wasn't easy to steady your breaths either. As the memories came back to you, you could feel yourself slipping onto a world of doubt and worry. The man who had found you was absolutely terrifying. Not only was he tall enough to tower over you with ease, but his teeth also looked sharp and metallic. The man had scars all over his body and a look in his brown eyes that had told you he wasn't merciful at all. Years of hardships decorated every inch of his skin but he didn't seem to let that drag him down. He used it as armour, which made him evermore dangerous.

Just as you had feared, the door opened, allowing artificial light to pour inside for only a moment as he walked in. The door shut loudly and with a click, which meant it was locked. The tall man turned on the ceiling light, the single bulb hanging from the ceiling allowing you to see better, only to realize his cold eyes were glued to you. When he made his way further inside the small room, you could hardly hear his footsteps as your heart was thudding so loudly against your rib cage. How were you supposed to remain calm when a scary man had you chained down like an animal? What was he going to do? What did he want from you?

"You're awake sooner than expected," He finally spoke, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Thought you’d be weaker.”

"What do you want from me?"

The man didn't reply instantly but judging by the stern look on his face, he had clearly heard you. For whatever reason he actually took his sweet time thinking about his reply as he circled the bed, never tearing his eyes off of you. As he reached the wooden dresser, he dragged a gun out of a holster and placed it on the surface with a loud thud, making sure it was pointed directly at you so even when the gun was untouched and simply resting on the dresser, it kept you on edge.

"What do I want from you? That's a silly question," He finally spoke, much more relaxed now that you were chained down and silent. "Nothing really. You're here because of Marc Spector," your lover's name was spoken as if it was poison on his tongue, every syllable tasting rancid.

"Why?" You decided it was better to talk to this man instead of being tortured. The more time you wasted like this, the better were your chances of survival. Surely, they were coming for you. The moment you thought about them, you felt a pang of guilt in your gut. Marc was probably freaking out by now. Steven must've been so scared. Jake? Oh Jake, he wouldn’t show it but you knew the protective man was ridden with anxiety. You didn't even want to imagine how stressed they must've been. Did they know you were there? Or did they think you had abandoned them?

The tall man pulled an old wooden chair next to the bed and sat down, being so close to you now that it made you worry. What was he going to do?

"Long ago, Marc and I used to be pals, if you will. He was a great mercenary. Unstoppable, quick, someone that a man like me could respect. Then something changed and he turned on us. Marc became soft, that rat," He spat angrily, slamming his large fist against the wall so hard you flinched, half expecting him to hit you instead. Your heart leapt to your throat and your eyes squeezed shut which you instantly regretted.

"Are you scared, love?" He mocked you, leaning closer to you so his foul breath landed on your skin, causing your hairs to stand on end. Stay calm.

“Anyway, I wanted to know what changed him and all leads came back to you. Funny how the same thing that made him soft is the same thing that makes him hard,” he laughed at his own wordplay, his belittling words making you feel dirty. What he was talking about was none of his business and you wanted to let him hear your thoughts, but decided to bite your tongue for now.

"W-What's your name?" You ignored him, focusing on your one and only task right now. Keep him talking. Nothing else mattered.

"You can call me Raul," He introduced himself while caressing your cheek. That's when you noticed it, his left hand only had three fingers. Raul caught you staring.

"Wanna know who did this to me?" Raul grabbed your jaw forcefully and made you face him. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep and dark coldness that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was rough and it stung but you assumed it was better than whatever else it was he was capable of doing. Without knowing what else to do, you simply nodded, encouraging him to go on. By now, you felt your body betraying you as your limbs quivered underneath his touch. That's how easy it was for him to terrify you. At that moment, you wished you had abilities such as Khonshu had granted your lovers. You wished you could've broken free from these chains and returned home safely but alas, you couldn't. There you were, forced to look at this man and hear his stories, not knowing what was true and what wasn't.

"Marc did this," Raul revealed eventually, something about it making your gut twist in horror. Picturing Marc severing a man's fingers off was sickening. If it were true, you had to believe there was a good reason behind it. Khonshu only made him punish people who had already done evil things. This man was no exception.

"Tell me, sweetheart," Raul tilted his head slightly, "have you heard of the phrase 'an eye for an eye'?"

Who hadn't? You thought but kept that to yourself as you didn't wish to set him off. Somehow, it seemed like nothing was truly needed to set this man off as your silence alone was enough to push him into action.

Everything that happened next was surreal. You could only watch as Raul reached for something in his pocket, something that turned out to be a knife. It reflected the yellow ceiling light and you noticed just how sharp it was. There was a carved symbol on the blade which you didn't recognize but it didn't seem to matter when he grabbed your left hand that was still chained to the headboard.

"No! No, please! Please don't do this!" You screamed in shock when he pressed the sharp knife against the base of your index and middle fingers, not enough to cut your fingers off but your skin broke under the edge. "Please don't!" Panicked tears rolled down your face as you tried to wiggle free. It was of no use though and you both knew it.

"If you stop moving it'll be over sooner!" Raul yelled at you and then had the audacity to smile. The curve of his lips was sadistic, something straight out of nightmares. He enjoyed this.

Just as blood began to trickle down your palm, the hot liquid reminding you of how doomed you were, a phone rang in his pocket. That was your phone.

"Fucking hell!" Raul sighed, annoyed by the interruption but you were forever grateful because he stepped away and put the knife on the table next to the gun. So far, your digits were still intact but the ghastliness of what had almost happened shook you to the core, making you feel nauseous. The cut at the base of your fingers stung. Even without seeing it, you knew it'd leave a scar. A scar that would be much better than losing your fingers. As you were still recovering from the shock of what Raul nearly succeeded with, you didn't even realize what was happening.

Raul had answered the video call because Marc's face had shown up on the screen. He had anticipated a call again. As he picked up, he instantly turned the camera to you, letting Marc see what was happening.

"You have perfect timing, Spector. I was just about to cut her pretty little fingers off," Raul revealed casually as if he had no care in the world. He wanted to piss off Marc and it didn't seem like it frightened him at all. Either he was a fool or extremely powerful.

"Don't you fucking dare touch her!" Marc growled with wrath in his voice. You realized you had never heard him so angry ever before. His voice was alien, but at the same time, you found comfort in it. Was he going to find you? If so, would he be there in time? Would you see him again?

"If I do, what are you gonna do about it? There's not much you can do to stop me," Raul laughed again, grabbing the bloody knife and waving it around as he spoke. "I'm here, she's here and you're god-knows-where! Even if you do find us, you'll be too late! I will make you watch as I kill her, that I promise you!"

This couldn't be happening. This had to be a nightmare. If you had been able to, you would've pinched yourself. You felt so helpless as tears streamed down your face and you struggled against the cold chains that were wrapped so tightly around you that the skin beneath the metal was bruising at an alarming rate. Staying calm after hearing his morbid threats seemed like an impossible task.

If he was truly going to kill you, this could've been your last chance to speak to any of them. As much as the realization terrified you, you had to find the courage to speak again.

"I love you, baby, I'm so sorry," You sniffled, trying to see the screen but Raul didn't grant you the satisfaction of seeing Marc. "I'm sorry!" The apology poured from your lips quietly as the guilt was eating you alive. The violent sobs caused your lungs to feel like they were on fire and burning you up from within. Had you been more careful, this would've never happened. You were sure of it. If this twisted man took your life tonight, the happy future you had dreamt of would be ripped away from not only you but from them as well. It wasn't fair in any way.

"Don't interrupt me!" Raul shrieked all of a sudden, angered by your attitude. As he leapt toward you, phone in hand, Marc yelled something that got lost as you let out a startled scream. The next thing you knew, Raul hovered above you with the knife dangerously close to your neck. "Shut up! I don't want to hear this lovey-dovey shit, okay? Just be quiet!"

Beep beep beep

The call ended. Whether Raul accidentally ended it or Marc, it didn't matter. The line was lost and you feared that just like that, you would never hear from him ever again. Not another 'I love you' from Steven that he would tell you first thing in the morning. No more endearments from Jake in Spanish that always made your heart flutter with joy. No more vulnerable love confessions from Marc he would whisper to you when no one else was around.

For once, Khonshu was being useful. It was actually the Egyptian god who helped locate you. There wasn't anything that could happen at night that went by his sight. When even Jake was going bollocks over worry he felt for you, the god couldn't just let them run in circles and desperately try to find you. Raul Bushman was smart, unfortunately, and he made it near impossible to find him. Tracing the calls hadn’t worked and studying the background of the video revealed nothing.

Raul Bushman was well prepared, but Raul didn't have Khonshu. When the bird-headed god told Jake how to find you, he wasted no time getting a move on. After the video call where Raul revealed what he was about to do to you, it was urgent they got these as quickly as possible.

Khonshu wasn't too fond of you - or so he made it appear - but he was even less fond of Raul Bushman. There was no way he would let a worm like that kill you and also make his avatar distraught. The god knew that the loss of you would be detrimental. It would destroy his Moon Knight for good.

The Moon Knight suit came in handy as Marc soared across the starry sky, past the tall buildings in the city with one destination in mind. It wasn't the time to think about anything else than his next few moves. One wrong thought and his demeanour would falter. Your life was on the line here and he wasn't going to mess up now. And to think Raul Bushman had come back to haunt him and he didn't even bother to hide further away than the other side of London. The man was confident he could overpower Marc but that was a grave mistake. Marc would stop at nothing to make sure nothing like this would ever happen again. Had he been wiser, he would've killed Raul all those years ago during their run together in Cairo.

The location turned out to be a townhouse in the fancier parts of London, a mighty building that had stood there for hundreds of years. To people looking from the outside, it was beautiful and nothing about it really screamed that it was used by criminals. Marc's gut twisted painfully when he remembered you were in there, most likely scared for your very life. The way you had apologized to him over the phone as if any of this was your fault had killed a part of him inside. If anything, Marc felt as if this was his fault. You had done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing at all.

Getting into the place wasn't hard at all. Instead, the trickier part was to be quiet. Marc wasn't going to risk your life by being loud and giving Raul a chance to finish things off before it was too late. The lights were all turned off, which led Marc to believe no one else was there but you and Raul. The people who owned the place rarely used it as it turned out the house was used for criminal gatherings every once in a while. No one lived there. As a hideout, it would've been wonderful if it was only used for hiding from regular people. Hiding from gods and their avatars on the other hand was much trickier.

By now, blood was boiling in Marc's veins. He felt like an enraged animal that was hunting for prey, following its bloody trail with a deep hunger. Nothing could possibly get in his way now. He squeezed the golden crescent moon darts tighter in a desperate attempt to remain calm, steering away the dark thundering clouds in his head that carried with them his deepest fears. With somewhat of a clear mind, silent for once as none of the alters dared to make a peep, Marc navigated down the stairs and toward where he believed you were. His pounding heart was the only sound he could hear, for now, the muscle convulsing dangerously and so hard it wouldn't have been too much of a surprise if Raul could hear it.

"Nooo!" You let out a deep cry, riddled with pain caused by the weapon that had just made contact with your temple. Between all the threats Raul directed at you and your own fears, you felt lost. You didn't know what you were begging of or asking him not to do. There wasn't time for you to gather your thoughts as this scary man was losing his patience with you and with Marc who still hadn't shown up. Despite his claims of not using you as bait to lure him here, you didn't believe him. Raul was looking for revenge and he was willing to kill two birds with one stone.

Knowing you were used as bait to lure your lover into doom only strengthened the guilt. Somehow that hurt more than the physical pain he had brought upon you. No amount of blood or bruises could amount to the realization of how sick and twisted this was and what part you played in it all.

The most recent blow he had delivered to you had been worse than the others, causing your vision to blur and you to feel ill. Your stomach was bubbling in a nauseating way and you weren't sure if you would be able to keep your lunch down for much longer. The throbbing headache was only getting worse and you noticed that you couldn't focus your vision on anything anymore. Was your body giving up this easily or was it trying to defend you from what was to come by numbing everything out quicker? At this point, thinking felt too difficult of a task. Raul was pacing around the room in his rage, probably filming you still but you didn't make any sense of it anymore.

Blood coated your tongue and that was what you focused on as you rested against the thin pillow, wishing you were at home instead. At home, in your bed, next to the man you loved. Instead of tasting the iron in your mouth, you wished you had a cup of hot chocolate that Jake was surprisingly good at making. He usually added a pinch of chili to the sweet drink and it tasted divine. You wished you were in a warm bath with Marc, getting your back rubbed by his loving touch after a long day. You wanted to listen to Steven's voice as he read you to sleep. Who was the god he was reading to you about last night? Taweret? That must've been it. The goddess of fertility and childbirth. Thinking of that in such a dark moment was oddly comforting, bringing you the tiniest amount of peace in the midst of fear you had never felt before, fear that made your bones shake and your heart heavy with sorrow.

Little did you know your last act of consciousness had alerted Marc of your whereabouts. Just as you slipped into unconsciousness, your exhausted body unable to take any more of the pain, you caught a glimpse of a pair of white, glowing eyes. He had found you.

Raul hadn't heard Marc arriving and none of the alarms in the building had alerted him. However, when the man wrapped in mummy bindings and with bright, glowing eyes attacked Raul, he could only feel excitement. This was his chance to defeat Marc once and for all, make him suffer like how Marc had made him suffer. An eye for an eye. Raul took that very seriously.

Marc grabbed Raul by his torso and launched him against the wall so hard it sent the man right into the next room. Dust from within the walls exploded into the air, making it hard to see into the other room for a moment but that didn't stop Marc who followed Raul without any hesitation.

"Took you long enough!" Raul got up from the floor just in time, spitting blood on the floor as he braced himself for Marc's next move.

Marc clenched his jaw together and threw both darts at his former acquaintance, not surprised when all they did was scratch the surface. Marc grabbed more darts from his chest, glad he wasn't going to run out of them anytime soon as they magically reappeared thanks to Khonshu's powers.

As Marc leapt at Raul again, the taller man grabbed him and rolled both of them around. When Marc fell to the ground with Raul, he rolled over and lunged the sharp moon dart right into his chest, ripping a string of curses from his enemy's mouth.

"You're gonna regret ever laying a finger on her," Marc growled eerily, twisting the sharp dart that had sunk into Raul's flesh, feeling how the man's blood soaked his white glove. Having mercy was the last thing on Marc's mind now. He was going to make Raul pay for his mistake.

Meanwhile, you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to stay in the dark when you heard crashing and screaming nearby. As you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, you realized what was going on and it sent a rush of adrenaline through you. Marc was there for you but you were still chained to the bed. Trying to free yourself hadn't worked earlier but now that your hands were covered in sweat and blood, you decided to give it another try. Desperately, you tried to wiggle and pull your hands free, biting your tongue when the action hurt. The chains were pressing against your thumbs painfully but you knew you would be able to pull yourself free if you just tugged a little harder.

"Fuck..." You cursed under your breath and then yanked your hands toward your chest. To your surprise, your hands slipped out of the chains. The adrenaline that coursed throughout your body concealed just how much it had hurt. With all the strength you had left and with worry for your loved one who was fighting this monster all alone, you limped to the dresser where the gun was. Bloody fingers wrapped around the weapon and you were surprised by how heavy it felt in your shaking hands. There was a hole in the wall and as you narrowed your eyes looking through it, you saw... Steven? Yes. Steven was definitely the one in the suit, giving Raul a piece of his mind with the help of his truncheons.

"You messed up big time, mate," Steven's choice of words didn't match the hatred in the tone of his voice. He didn't sound much like himself as he was blinded by rage, acting the opposite of the sweet and loving man you knew. As Mr Knight, he used all his strength to deliver a blow against Raul's gut, not finding an ounce of pity as the grown man cried out in pain. The sight was surreal but you couldn't look away. Whether this was a dream or not, you were glad to see it. Perhaps it was wrong, you just didn't care. Your moral compass had been shattered by the hands of the man who had hurt you the same way just moments before.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself now looking at Jake who didn't let Raul fall on the floor. Instead, he held him by his crimson covered shirt and pressed his fingers into the deep wound Marc had made with his dart earlier, feeling how the blood oozed out of it. "That is for just thinking about her!" He pushed Raul against a bookshelf, the impact knocking the books all over the floor and the shelves snapping in half.

"And this is for hurting her."

When Jake proceeded to attack him again, you had to look away. Part of it was because you felt lightheaded and standing on your own proved to be much more difficult than it should've been. The other part was that Jake's violent ways were not for the faint-hearted to see. As you stumbled on the floor, it alarmed both of the men. For a split second, Jake was distracted as he hadn't noticed you getting up and Raul used that to his advantage.

As Raul tried to bite Jake with his sharp, metal teeth, something within you snapped. You pointed his own gun at him and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the leg before you even knew what you were doing. The loud bang made your ears ring and you dropped the gun, stunned when you watched Raul freeze on the spot. The bullet had pierced him and stopped him from going absolutely feral, yet it didn't seem to put an end to his wrath. Raul turned on his heel and tried to run toward you despite his injuries, seeing red now that you had shot him. Before he could take one too many steps, Marc stopped him.

All you could do was watch from the cold floor as Marc did his job. You had just shot someone. The gun was laying on the floor and you stared at it in disbelief, replaying the moment in your head like a broken record. All your pain was gone and you felt numb. When you looked at your hands, your own blood no longer felt like it belonged to you. Sure, you had shot a horrible man who was about to possibly hurt Jake but it still felt repulsive. A sickening feeling poured all over like thick goo you that you couldn’t shake off. It was useless trying to focus on the fight that was taking place right in front of your nose. The sounds of furniture breaking and bones cracking were completely shut out of your head.

Everything that had happened in just one night was too much for you to handle. There was only so much you could process at once. You had never hurt anyone before. Not like that. This was never supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

When suddenly Marc was kneeling on the floor in front of you, you finally snapped out of it. The passage of time confused you as you didn't know if ten seconds had passed or ten minutes. Marc looked at you with nothing but concern all over his face, every trace of anger far gone. Had he been talking to you?

"Oh baby thank god you're alive," Marc wanted to hold you but he was terrified of hurting you. He viewed you like an ancient artefact that could turn to dust with one touch. Seeing the evidence of Raul's abuse against you was tearing his heart apart in his chest and he felt each and every tear on a molecular level. You looked so out of it as if your mind was far away although your eyes gazed right into his. The innocent gleam had been chased away from your soul. Marc noticed it immediately and that was crushing. His sweet angel was hurt and he could only blame himself for it.

"Is he...?" Dead was the word you were looking for but couldn't say out loud. Would you be responsible for a man's death? Had the bullet torn apart important veins and caused him to bleed out?

"No," Marc shook his head. Not yet. Raul wasn't far away from it though but Marc was more worried about you than the man who was surely taking his last breaths anyway. The moment he had a chance to see how you were doing, he had taken it. What Marc hadn't expected was how bad everything was. Had it been wishful thinking to imagine he would've made it in time before Raul had hurt you? How foolish had it been of him to imagine Raul fucking Bushman would wait to hurt someone? Marc knew better than anyone what that man was capable of.

"Can you walk?" Marc inquired, not sure if he really wanted to hear your answer though. He wanted to make sure you weren't there to see what he was about to do in a hopeless attempt to grasp onto the remaining purity of your heart and soul. Besides he knew seeing death changed a person in more ways than you'd think. The last thing he wanted was for you to have to witness that.

As you remained quiet, now staring at your trembling hands, Marc knew he wasn't going to get through to you. As gently as he could, he wrapped his strong arms around you and helped you to your feet. Marc saw the gun on the floor next to a phone that was still recording everything, only now facing the floor so it only recorded sound. It was your phone and it was gnarly to think Raul had recorded everything with the ambition in mind to send it all to Marc. Ever so carefully, Marc guided you out of the room that would surely be in many nightmares to come and into the dark hallway. No one else had joined the party as far as he and Khonshu were aware so Marc felt it was safe enough to leave you alone for just a few more seconds.

There was a leather armchair in the hallway and Marc made you sit down on it, which you didn't mind. Everything happened in a blur and it was difficult to focus on anything in that state. He began ripping his Moon Knight costume, the magic bindings reappearing seemingly out of nowhere as he used it to wrap the deepest wounds he could see on you. At that point, Marc had to fight hard against his own body to hold back his tears, trying to stay strong for just a little longer. It was really difficult though when he was wrapping your fingers together to stop the bleeding of a wound that resembled something he had inflicted upon someone else years ago. Marc thought he had seen enough shit for one lifetime but this? This was crushing him in every possible way.

Unbeknownst to you, Khonshu was looming over Marc's shoulder and keeping guard - not that the god would say that out loud. It wasn't that big of a deal for him to make sure his avatar didn't get ambushed, right?

"He is still breathing," Khonshu broke the heavy silence in the townhouse that allowed Marc's thoughts to spiral into a dark place. Khonshu wanted Raul to pay the ultimate price for his actions and waiting patiently for Marc to get a move on was boring. The sooner they got it over with, the better.

Marc nodded to himself and then tightened the material in hopes it would stop the bleeding. "I'll be right back, I promise," He assured you softly. Marc didn't need to say what he was about to do for you weren't stupid. All you could do was nod, feeling nothing at all as Marc stood up and retraced his steps back to the room in which Raul was bleeding out. Not even fear as you sat alone in the dark hallway as your own thoughts drowned out the world around you.

Raul had severely underestimated Marc Spector, not knowing to expect the full wrath of a man enhanced by the powers of an ancient god. Not only that, he had enraged Marc and the two alters who all fronted to show him their rage. In his final moment on the cold, dirty floor, he was staring down into the barrel of the gun and then the man holding it, unsure exactly who he was looking at. Perhaps in some way, all three of them were holding that gun, all three men wanting the same thing - to end this man's life. Raul would never know who truly pulled that trigger.

The very last thing he ever heard was the scolding words of a man who took vengeance very seriously, especially when it came to injustices against the woman he loved;

"You fucked up the moment you decided to go after her and I'm not letting you make that mistake ever again."

Getting home and the entire process of getting washed and your wounds patched up had passed you near completely as you zoned out. It wasn't until Steven was putting one of his t-shirts on you that you really seemed to grasp where you were. Sure, you remembered glimpses of Marc getting you out of that building. He had insisted on taking you to a hospital as he seemed to have lost all care for himself, not giving a damn if the staff would've called the police on him and found out why he was covered in blood. But you didn't want that to happen. You didn't want to see any more people. All you wanted was to go home and be sheltered away from the rest of the world.

Jake was the one who cleaned your wounds. Luckily, they weren't too bad, nothing that would hold you back forever. What had hurt you the most was the mental toll of what had happened. Healing within would take so much longer and Jake was going to stay by your side the entire time. After he had cleaned your wounds, stitched you up and given you a bath, he wasn't sure what to do. It was late, the clock nearing the morning by now but neither of you felt like going to bed.

Steven was fronting at that point and he was worried sick about you because you barely spoke. Not that he was surprised or that he wanted to push the words out of your mouth, he was simply concerned. No one could blame him. The love of his life, the human version of an actual ray of sunshine who was never supposed to get hurt, was scarred so deeply. If he could turn back time, he would've done it in a heartbeat.

"Darling," Steven slipped the shirt over your head gently, making sure to stretch the fabric in order to avoid touching the deep, purple bruises and stitched up wounds. You barely lifted your arms to make an effort to ease the job. You didn't mean to be difficult or distant, it just happened. Every time you tried to focus on the present, a wave of utter pain threatened to crash against you and you didn't want that to happen, so you pushed it away. Prolonging it was most likely only making it worse but you were so scared of embracing what had happened. When you blinked, you could see the man's dead body on the floor, a picture your brain cruelly created to taunt you. Marc hadn’t let you see Raul’s corpse, but your mind was creative enough to give you a front row seat one way or another.

Although Raul had hurt you and stated he wanted to kill Marc, knowing he was dead made you feel strange. That man had been a monster yet you felt shaken by his death somehow. How much part did you have in it? Would they find his body and throw you in a cell? Would his friends come after you? After Marc?

"Hey," Steven could feel his heart continuing to break as he watched that empty look on your face, "talk to me, love. Please. Just please don't bottle this up, I'm here for you." Steven knew that if you kept all of these thoughts to yourself, that eventually it would break you furthermore. It wasn't healthy and yet at the same time, he was aware of the fact talking about it was possibly just as difficult but in the end, it would mean so much.

"He wanted to kill you," You finally managed to say something more than just a word or two. Raul had kidnapped you because he wanted to kill the man you loved that badly. Trying to accept that was hard as you couldn't picture hating Marc so much. Marc was wonderful. One had to be a true monster to find him so despicable.

"But he didn't," Steven reminded you, taking a hold of your right hand and he gave you a gentle squeeze as he intertwined your fingers. You could only watch as Steven brought your knuckles to his lips and he placed a soft kiss on your skin. The tender touch went straight to your heart, pulling at the strings that made you tear up. God you loved him so much and it pained you deeply to shut off like this. If only you knew how, you'd let him back in instantly.

Steven noticed the glistening tears in your weary eyes. "Oh love," it was difficult to keep his own tears at bay once he saw you like that. When you leaned against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, it took the man by surprise. Steven hadn't anticipated that but he was happy to hold you too, knowing you were finally letting your emotions out. Determined as hell, Steven was going to be your rock. In his mind, it was the least he could do.

When you felt his hand between your shoulderblades, caressing you gently and lovingly, you felt yourself relaxing against him. Tears kept spilling from your eyes and you were coughing in-between sobs, but letting it out felt kind of good as well. The tangled web within your soul was unraveling with every tear and every caring touch patched a crack in your heart. You were safe and nothing could happen to you now. They made sure of it.

As you thought of what they had done for you, an enormous amount of gratitude surged from within. You held Steven even tighter, wanting to thank him but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth, lips quivering as you wept. They hadn't only come to rescue you but they made sure Raul would never hurt you or anyone for that matter again. Having only shot him, you felt horrible. No matter how well Jake washed your hands, you couldn't shake off the sticky feeling that coated your skin. It seemed impossible to imagine how taking a life must've been like yet they had done it. For you.

Steven's cologne filled your lungs as you pressed your tear-stained face against his chest, probably leaving marks on the fabric but neither of you really cared. The familiar, clean scent was oddly calming and eventually, the rough and painful sobs calmed down. Your fingers clung onto his back tightly because you longed to stay close to him. His tender embrace and familiar scent was grounding you and every once in a while, Steven would whisper reassuring things to you. Being loved by him made you feel so lucky.

"Thank you," You managed after a while, barely finding your voice after screaming and crying so much in just one day. Your throat felt as dry as the desert but it seemed to be the least of your worries.

"You don't need to thank me, love. Not at all," Steven was genuinely surprised to hear that. He was shocked that you weren't running away from them actually. Why you decided to stay when their presence attracted such horrible people was beyond him but there you were. But you were together, even if you were to leave Steven was terrified more mysterious boogeymen from the past would come after you. Just thinking about it gave him an even worse headache than he already had. All he knew was that he couldn't make you thank them because truth be told, Marc wasn't the only one who felt guilty.

"You saved me," You looked up to him with red and puffy eyes, feeling sick of crying at that point. If only making it stop was that easy.

"You shouldn't have needed saving in the first place," Steven acknowledged, the words feeling like a punch in the gut. He hated that it was true.

They were all blaming themselves and you hated it. Sure, you had blamed yourself for this too but at the end of the day, Raul Bushman had been the one to initiate everything for his own selfish desires. There was one person to blame for this and that person was dead.

Steven felt a tear rolling down his cheek which he didn't even bother to wipe away as he looked at you with such deep love and compassion on his face it was almost overwhelming. What he seemed to tell you with his eyes did more justice than what a thousand words ever could've.

"Steven, my love,," You took a deep shaky breath and then lifted your arm to wipe his stray tear away, noticing how Steven leaned ever so softly against your touch. Hours earlier he had feared he would never be able to do that again. "Don't blame yourself. None of you should."

Steven didn't say it, but he instantly thought of Marc who had completely shut himself off. Not even Jake could reach him. Marc was loathing in guilt and no one knew when he would front again as he had made it very clear he felt as if he was a curse upon you. A wretched old affliction that was destined to continue causing you harm no matter what he attempted to do to stop it.

Steven blinked as the tears just kept coming. He felt awful because he thought he was supposed to be the strong one to be there for you but as time passed, he too began to process everything that happened. Had they been late, you would've been long gone by now. Tonight had been too dangerous, the worst possible scenario had been too close to coming true.

As you felt Steven shaking underneath your touch, you swore you wanted to bring Raul back from the dead just to kill him again. Seeing the kind man that you loved so much being in so much pain over worry he felt for you was like walking on burning shards of glass. You were just both two people who had been terrified of losing one another and you both carried guilt that you absolutely shouldn't have.

You cupped Steven's face, pulling him toward you as he willingly let you do so just to press a kiss on the bridge of his nose. Then you guided him to the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and allowing Steven to pull you closer by the waist. The two of you held onto each other as if you were scared of letting of. The only comfort in the world you could find was in each other's arms. Steven inhaled your scent, convinced he could find paradise in the soapy fragrance. It was safe because it was you. You were alright.

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you leaned against Steven, not sure if you were about to yawn or sob as your lips parted. A yawn ripped from you and you somehow relaxed even more, unaware of how tense you had actually been. If Steven had let you, you would've fallen asleep just like that, in his arms where you felt separated you from everything else, the rotten outside world. The bubble he created for you was soothing, a place where one could stay forever and feel okay.

The last thing you remembered before passing out from pure exhaustion was Steven ever so carefully guiding you toward the pillows and tucking you in. Whether he kissed your forehead or you just dreamt it, you didn't know but it didn't really matter. After that, everything was filmy. Pitch black unconsciousness swallowed you whole and for a moment, the misery that had soaked into your every cell was far away.

Jake couldn't sleep. Steven had dosed off into broken sleep but it was Jake who woke up and stayed awake afterwards. It wasn't a difficult task for him to keep his eyes open as the sun began to rise outside. He had made sure the front door was locked and that no shady people were around the apartment complex. Jake had even gone out of his way to make sure their tracks were covered. All seemed well, at least on paper. No one could prove what they had done and no one was coming for you. All seemed well yet you were far from well as far as Jake was concerned.

He sat down on the bed eventually and tried to relax, making sure he didn't disturb your much needed rest. Jake knew the danger had been dealt with but part of him couldn't relax. Something cruel within told him people were out there, waiting for the first chance they'd get to harm you. So there he was, guarding you and at the very least giving you a chance to rest. As Jake's dark brown eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of your chest, he felt how deep, sharp claws sunk into his heart. Anger bubbled within him but to his surprise, that wasn't strong enough to push away the sorrow he harboured. Someone had hurt you and Jake couldn't comprehend it.

As you looked at your sleeping figure, studying the way your lashes touched your cheeks and how your lips parted a little bit when your cheek squished against the soft pillow, he struggled to comprehend how anyone was capable of harming you. Dark eyes roamed down your body, scarring every little bruise and cut on your exposed skin. Eventually, Jake looked at your fingers that clutched onto the blanket. He remembered when Marc had taken Raul's fingers as a wicked warning to keep his hands off of people. It had been a mistake to simply warn a man like that. They should've gotten rid of him then and there.

Raul hadn't just hurt you. All those years ago, while on a mission in Cairo they had come across surprise witnesses. People who weren't supposed to be there. People that the higher ups who paid them wanted to get rid of. Marc hadn't had it in him to kill a child but Raul almost did that. Almost, as Marc had stopped him just in time. That's why Marc had done what he did, hoping it would keep Raul from ever even thinking about hurting kids. Surely there had to be a line drawn somewhere, right? Not for Raul. Raul didn't care about who he had to get rid of in order to succeed with his ambitions. At least, he would never get another chance to do anything ever again.

When you yelped, breaking the silence that had lingered in the flat, Jake nearly jumped to his feet. He had been deep in thought that he hadn't heard you waking up so afraid. For a moment, you felt panicked and you had to pull your hands to your chest to make sure you weren't chained to a bedframe. Being able to move freely was so relieving but it didn't last long when you noticed the dull ache in your every bone and muscle.

Jake took a hold of your hand, wanting to comfort you in any way he could as you woke up to a new day. "You're safe, mi vida. I've got you."

Hearing Jake's voice made you feel so much lighter instantly. Although you had been able to sleep for a few hours, you somehow felt more tired now than you did before falling asleep. But it didn't matter. You enjoyed the fact that you were safe, just as Jake promised. Being home and completely shielded from any danger was a wonderful feeling and you focused on that instead of the sense of impending doom that was trying to shake you off balance. Nothing bad would happen now.

"Have you slept at all?" You mumbled tiredly as you sat up, trying to rub the weariness from your eyes. It felt like your body was on fire, not in a good way. Last night, the adrenaline had managed to dull most of the pain but now that you knew you were safe and had been able to relax, the discomfort seemed to have intensified.

"A little," Jake shrugged as he stood up. He could tell by the way you were moving that you were hurting so he decided to grab painkillers and a glass of water. As he returned from the kitchen with them, he gave you the pill and made sure you drank enough water. Jake knew how to be caring and attentive too, he just wasn't too verbal about it. Words didn't come easily to him, or when they did the timing wasn't the best either. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, he thought.

That day you didn't manage to get much done, not the next few days either for that matter. As the shock from the horrendous night still rattled you all, you could only stay inside. As the third day came around the corner, you were still mostly in bed or on the couch, unable to pull your head out of the dreadful place it found itself in. Jake and Steven had both fronted many times but it was mostly Steven who kept you company and tried to cheer you up. Marc hadn't shown up not even once after he had brought you back home. He hadn't come back as he promised. Not even when you were asleep.

Steven had gotten out of bed for the day, leaving you to slumber in hopes you were able to relax at least in your rest. You fell asleep again several times, only sleeping for a few minutes at a time when sudden fear woke you up again. It always seemed to come out of the blue and it passed just as quickly. The more it kept happening, the worse it felt. Around the time the sun was setting again and you still hadn't gotten out of bed, your anxiety was threatening to get the best of you.

Steven was in the kitchen, making something for you to eat since you hadn't eaten much at all yet. He wanted to take care of you and covering the basics such as making sure you ate was the least he felt he could do. As he stirred the pasta sauce, Steven had to really keep fight to keep his negative thoughts away. He hadn't slept well, obviously, and it seemed to take a toll on him now. He had almost lost you. No matter how many times he reminded himself that you were alright, he felt rotten to the core. What had he done if Raul had actually succeeded in his plan? Steven couldn't even imagine the scenario. That was too sinister.

The next time your anxiety awoke you, it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing at your throat. You sat up in bed and could physically feel your stomach turning upside down in distress. You bent over and dug your nails into your thighs, trying to drown your whimpers by biting your lips together. Only one thing repeated itself in your mind like a chant, you shot someone. You almost died and you shot someone. You did that.

As a sick feeling within you only grew worse, you forced yourself out of bed and to the bathroom. Unsure whether you'd get sick or not, you decided to sit down on the cold tile floor near the toilet just in case. That's when the tears got to you again and it was frustrating, making you entangle your fingers in your hair and scratch at your scalp. Why couldn't you stay calm? Why couldn't you accept that it was over? What happened had happened and now everything was fine. Why was it so damn hard to stay calm?

Marc. You missed Marc. He had shut off completely and it was devastating. Was he angry at you? Could it be? Raul had done this to anger Marc specifically. Did Marc blame you in some way? As wrong as it seemed, you weren't sure if anything could surprise you anymore. The longer he stayed hidden, the longer you were left to make your own conclusions.

"Love? Are you in here? I've made dinner," Steven's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Hearing him was like music to your ears. He was like a warm blanket that chased away the coldness that threatened to turn you to ice. Your heart swelled in your chest with love for him because you were sure you'd be a wreck without the sweet man.

"Yeah," After taking a few deep breaths, you felt somewhat better and got up from the floor. As long as you tried getting out of your head, you were sure you'd feel better. So you walked out of the bathroom and let Steven serve you a plate of pasta although you were certain you could've helped yourself too. Steven was going out of his way to be thoughtful and as nice as it was, it made you fear he was doing so out of guilt. How long would this last? How long would you all be broken because of one man?

The two of you sat on the couch as you ate, mindlessly watching the TV that filled in the silent gaps. Usually, you and Steven would be talking nonstop and probably pissing off the neighbours too. Now conversation was hard. Just existing felt like a chore but at least every day that passed made it a little bit less awful.

"Steven?" You were nervous about what you wanted to say so you avoided facing him, instead focusing on the pasta that swirled around your fork.

"Yes?"

By now, you could feel the familiar heavy thud of your heart. "Have you heard from Marc?"

Steven wasn't a fool. He knew you noticed Marc's absence as well as he and Jake did too, if not even better. Until now, neither of you had mentioned it though. Steven didn't want to upset you any more than people already had. For a split second, he thought of brushing it off with a somewhat cheerful statement, but discarded that quickly. You didn't deserve that. You were hurt, not stupid. Treating you like a child and walking on eggshells around you couldn't possibly do any more good than it would do harm.

With a sigh, Steven put his plate down on the coffeetable right next to a book he hadn't touched in days now.

"No, not really," Steven admitted and dared to glance your way. "I'm sorry."

“‘s not your fault.”

“Well I’m still sorry, love.”

"Is he mad?" You mimicked Steven by placing your plate on the coffeetable, too agitated to focus on eating the rest of your food. The queasy feeling from earlier was creeping right back to you at an alarming rate. To say you were discouraged was an understatement, going through a cycle of sickness and dread ten times an hour.

Steven couldn't believe you honestly thought so. "Mad?" He had to be sure he heard right. When he saw the fearful look on your face, he knew he had. "No, not at all. He's just... well, if he's mad at anyone it's at himself."

"He can't blame himself for what happened!" You hoped that somehow, someway, Marc could hear you. "Gosh he's so stubborn sometimes," You didn't mean it in a malicious way, not at all. You loved Marc and you wished you could just speak to him and convince him he wasn't blameworthy of anything.

"Yeah," Steven pulled his lips into a thin line, side-glancing at the reflection in Gus' tank. Marc was there but he certainly wasn't saying anything. The man seemed out of it, his usual demeanour completely shattered. Jake was trying to convince Marc to just talk to you. Steven wished you could hear and see what he was seeing sometimes.

In an attempt to ease your mind, Steven moved closer to you on the couch and invited you into a hug. The people on the television were overly cheerful and giddy considering the gloomy atmosphere in the flat as bright colours flashed from the screen, painting the otherwise dark room in pinks and yellows. You leaned against Steven's welcoming frame and tried to stay calm, knowing Marc was in there somewhere. He'd have to show up sooner or later, right? He couldn't hide from you forever.

For once, it was you who was awake and Steven was asleep. Or at least you had been cuddling with Steven just moments earlier. It was a dead giveaway he was finally sleeping when you heard a light snore every once in a while between the deep and calm breaths. For a moment, you focused on that alone, letting the simple sounds of his breaths and heartbeat chase away the rest of the world. To you, sleep didn't come easy that night and neither were you sleepy. Just tired in every other possible way.

"I wish you weren't so hard on yourself, Marc," The words left your mouth as hardly louder than a whisper, as you did not wish to wake him up. The longer Marc stayed hidden, either too ashamed to face you or too heartbroken to front, you felt so sorry for him. It was killing you to know Marc couldn't bring himself to talk to you.

Fingers carefully traced the blanket that weighed over his waist. You rested your palm against his chest, needing to feel the subtle movement that kept you grounded to this moment. Slowly you got closer so that you could pepper kisses along his shoulder, inhaling his scent and enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Even if you couldn't sleep, being close like this brought you some sort of relaxation and peace.

"I love you." Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps it was exactly what you needed, you closed your eyes and held onto him tighter, picturing a night from many weeks ago that reminded you of Marc. In your mind, it was that night and nothing horrible had happened yet. You were just close to each other, just two lovers enjoying the calm night after a lovely day together. There was no pain or guilt to be seen or felt.

The next morning, it was Marc that awoke to a new day. It was still early, way too early to actually get out of bed but he quickly knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Your body was pressed against his and Marc felt his heart sinking to the very bottom of his stomach. He hadn't been able to speak to you or even really look at you since that night. Now there he was, with an arm wrapped around you and panic stirring within him. Although part of him longed to hold you and make sure you were alright, it almost physically pained him to be there. He saw the healing bruises on your skin, now tinted in a yellowish hue. They were scattered all over you, each small and bigger bruise making Marc enraged. How had he let this happen?

Gently, Marc pulled the blanket aside more, revealing your thighs and seeing the damage all the way down your legs. He saw the cut Jake had stitched in the bathroom that night. Marc traced his fingers over your skin so softly he wasn't even sure he was really touching you. Memories of that night came back to him, visions he had been stuck thinking of for a week straight with seemingly no break. He remembered how scared he felt when he first saw you chained to that bed. Marc had been terrified when he learned it was Raul who held you captive. That night was easily the worst of his life that was full of horrible days and nights. That night he almost lost you, the light of his dark and gloomy life.

"Marc?" You hadn't been in deep sleep so when you sensed shifting next to you, it was easy to tell you weren't the only one awake. It had been wishful thinking to picture it was Marc but sometimes wishful thinking turned out to be correct.

You saw it in his eyes. There was a familiar look in those brown irises, a light that only shone for him. Then you saw it in the way he carried himself. There were small things that gave the truth away. It really was Marc. Instantly, you felt wide awake as you faced your lover, nearly afraid to blink in case he would disappear again. "Marc..."

"I didn't mean to wake you," Marc failed to meet your gaze, holding himself together by a thread that was just about to snap. He thought about how he had carried you, how your blood had stained his clothes and how he was convinced you would see him as the monster he thought he was after everything that happened. You were all he had and despite being right next to you, Marc felt as if he had lost you already. After everything that happened, he knew nothing would ever be the same and he blamed himself for it all.

As he moved away from you, throwing his legs off the edge of the bed so he was sitting with his back facing you, it was clear he wanted to be anywhere but there. The bed felt colder and despite being so close to Marc, it felt like there were worlds between you.

Quietly, you got out of bed, the white t-shirt being the only fabric that covered you from the night. Carefully, you sat down on the edge of the bed next to Marc, relief washing over you when he didn’t get up and leave. Instead, Marc sighed deeply and turned to face you, now with tears in his eyes. Tears. As if you all hadn’t gotten sick and tired of those by now. The fact you hadn’t drowned in them yet was a miracle.

“Marc,” You searched for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his for the first time in what felt like a small eternity. “I missed you.”

The words affected him more than you’d ever know. Marc could still not believe you weren’t angry at him. Knowing you wanted to be by his side after everything was simply mind boggling.

“I missed you too, baby,” Marc admitted, finally beginning to speak about what had happened. Perhaps it was the closeness that made him feel like it was time or the fact that keeping everything bottled up was slowly killing him, either way Marc was encouraged to go on. “Fuck, I...I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you’re still here. I thought I’d lose you.”

“Marc-”

“What happened was never supposed to happen. I should’ve made sure of that long ago!”

“Marc!” You couldn’t let him sit there and keep blaming himself. Eventually the load he was carrying would break him and that would break you too.

He looked at you wide eyed, resembling a lost puppy. Seeing Marc like this was so unusual, he looked at you for guidance and forgiveness although forgiveness was something he never needed to ask for. It wasn’t needed in the first place but even if it were, you knew in your heart you’d forgive him a million times.

“What happened was not your fault,” Each word you said was clear and loud so that he couldn’t possibly mishear you. “The only person to blame for it is now dead and gone. Raul chose to do this. Not you, not me. He is the only one who should feel guilty.”

“You could’ve died,” Marc still didn’t budge, holding your hand a little tighter as he stated that. There was a deep desire within him that made him long to feel you even closer just as a reminder that you were alive.

“But I didn’t. I’m here thanks to you,” There were two sides two every situation. Marc could only see what almost happened and you were there to remind him of what actually happened, something he didn’t seem to consider at all.

“I could walk into traffic and get run over by a car tomorrow. I could get targeted by a random robber in a sketchy alleyway. Bad things happen and we can’t predict that. No one knows how much time we have but I know that no matter what, Raul’s actions weren’t your fault,” You didn’t mean to sound cruel but your words carried truth in them. No one could blame themselves for the unseen actions of the future. No one.

Like magic, something finally seemed to click in Marc’s mind. His shoulders relaxed and you could feel the tension melting from his muscles. When he let go of your hand just so he could envelope you in a hug, you wanted to thank whatever deity or god that must’ve given you this miracle.

Soon you found yourself on Marc’s lap, breathing in the subtle hints of his cologne as you rested your face against his shoulder. Marc held you tightly, but he was aware of your injuries so the man was mindful, not aiming to hurt you. His rough hand - now ever so gentle - was caressing the back of your head as his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close. Then at last, Marc let his tears rain down his face. The lid of the bottle was opened and you had knocked it over, letting it all spill out.

“I love you so much,” You whispered to him, repeating the confession a few times between soft kisses against his warm skin. You comforted Marc to the best of your abilities, playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck and ever so often wiping away the tears that were running down his throat.

“I love you too,” Marc had to return those words, his heart set aflame from love and passion that he felt for you. It was a fire no one could ever put out.

Marc held onto you for dear life, wanting to feel your heartbeat against his, to feel your chest expanding with air. Your scent calmed him as he let his sorrow out. Although only a few days had passed since you two last spoke, to him it felt like months. Looking back at how scared he had felt made him feel sick. It worsened when he couldn’t shake away the image of you in that fucking room. That was something no amount of words could ever clean from his memory.

But there you were. Not in a creepy room at the mercy of one of the most dangerous people Marc knew of. No. You were in his arms, in your bed and no one else could possibly bother you right now.

To Marc, this was all that mattered.

You were safe.

A/N: Okay so I definitely didn’t intend for this to be this long but here we are. I hope you liked it! :)

#Moon Knight fanfiction #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #Jake Lockley x Reader #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #angst #hurt/comfort #raul bushman

2K notes · View notes

bensolosbluesaber · 2 years

Text

Someone Like You: Part 1 (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x Avengers f!reader)

Summary: When Moon Knight is captured, there is only one Avenger with the right powers to save them. You. Marc might hate you, but when his life is on the line that no longer matters. ~3,100 words

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure I guess idk

Pairings: Primarily Marc Spector x f!reader, Jake Lockley x f!reader, Steven Grant x f!reader

Warnings: DID mentions and lots of them, canon typical violence, blood and injuries, Marc calls reader a bitch and they fight but in a we’re both superheroes way, generally Marc is an ass for this part so proceed with caution, mentions of childhood trauma/abuse, disassociation and nightmares

A/N: I represented DID in this fic in a way similar to the show, or at least that was my intention. Please understand this is fictionalized and dramatized, but also please tell me if there are errors. Look, this was supposed to be more plotty, but I just wanted to get to the hurt/comfort part and didn’t feel like writing a big action sequence, so the plot isn’t that complicated. Also Nat is alive for this, and Bruce, Buck, and Sam all make an appearance:)

Part 2: Coming Soon

“We need you. Now!”

Natasha’s face is flushed and her eyes wide. She’s flustered.

Natasha Romanoff is never flustered, and that is the first sign that something is well and truly wrong. Sign two? That she is asking for you now when you had just used your powers yesterday. You are already exhausted, overexerted, utterly drained. Today is supposed to be a time to recharge.

But Natasha is so uncharacteristically panicked that you roll off the couch to your feet and stumble after her without a second thought.

“It’s Moon Knight,” she explains as you hurry down the hallway.

“You found him? Them?” You correct yourself quickly.

Marc, Steven, and Jake had been missing for days. They did that frequently, just disappeared off on some mission for Khonshu. But Steven always checked in with the Avengers sooner rather than later. He hadn’t this time, and that worried the team, apparently with good reason.

“Sort of.” Nat stops outside of a closed door and turns to you. Her lips are pressed together with displeasure. “It’s not fair to ask you this, but-“

“Oh,” you exhale slowly.

The pieces finally come together.

“You’re the only one with the skills to do it.”

You curse under your breath. Not only are you exhausted, but you and the Moon Knight system have a long-running… well it wasn’t exactly hatred, but you certainly weren’t friends.

For no apparent reason, all three alters avoided you like the plague. Your best guess is that they learned about your particular power set and wanted to stay far away it. Most people did, which was ridiculous because you had complete control of your powers and no desire to use them on your coworkers anyway. And frankly it stung. You had privately harbored a small crush on the handsome trio from the first time you met Marc, a crush that was clearly not returned.

All that was inconsequential now. Would they be pissed about this invasion? They certainly would, but at least they would be alive.

You can tell it’s Marc fronting by the tension carried in his forehead. His eyes dart around wildly as he slumps against a wall and slides to the ground. Obviously, he is in the midst of making his own escape even as you are attempting an extraction.

“Marc!” You hurry to his side and kneel down.

His deep brown eyes finally focus on you. He blinks once, then twice. The softness you saw for just a moment is replaced with an icy darkness.

“The fuck are you doing here?” He growls, slurs really.

The man has to be drugged out of his mind. His eyes can’t focus on you for more than a second.

“Where’s Steven?” His voice lowers as he looks behind you and began whipping his head back and forth violently. “Where’s Steven? Steven!”

His deep voice, heavy with that Chicago accent, cracks over the name of his alter. “I’ll help you find him, Marc,” you reassure gently and hold out a hand. The rules here are different, so even though you have no idea how you are going to find Steven Grant, you are trying to be reassuring.

Marc stares at the offered hand blankly.

“Jake?” He whispers. “I can’t hear Jake. I can’t hear Jake! I can’t… I… Steven? Jake?”

You reach for him and grasp his forearms, guiding him to a standing position. He stumbles into you.

“I’m getting you out of here, Marc. Come on.”

“No!” His voice is suddenly clear, and he shoves you backwards. The push sends you stumbling into a wall with a heavy thud. “Not without them!”

The impact actually hurts. You are so overtaxed that you are experiencing pain in an environment where you should have total control. This is bad. This is really bad.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Marc’s is becoming more lucid, his eyes filling with rage as he realizes what is happening. He rounds on you with an accusing finger extended. “I know where I am, and I don’t want you here!”

His finger jabs your shoulder painfully, and any pity you might have felt disappears. You grab his wrist, and start to lock out his arm. He’s wise to the technique and tries kicking your leg out from beneath you. You side step easily, but his fist finds your nose and throws you off balance.

Pain shoots through the back of your head as it smacks against ceramic tile floor.

Something warm is on your face. You raise a hand to touch it, and when you pull your hand back your fingers are stained crimson. Blood. This has never happened before. You’re starting to have serious doubts about this mission.

“Get out of my fucking head!” Marc stands over you and shouts, but you hardly hear him. You are solely focused on the sticky red stain on your hands. You are bleeding. You shift your gaze to Marc. Blood. Marc.

“Shit,” you curse.

You look around, taking in the elaborate hallway structure with doors on either side. You’d walked through a dozen hallways just like this one to find Marc. The organization of the space is masterful, unlike any you had ever seen. People could live here. People do live here. Kind of. Then it hits you, a realization that should have been clear from the beginning.

The blood and pain has nothing to do with your strength. Even weakened you would have control enough to keep yourself from injury. No, this isn’t about the strength of your mind at all. It’s about the strength of theirs.

Natasha, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce hold vigil around the bed where the Moon Knight system lays unconscious. Nat smooths a hand over your upper back. Your eyes are shut and shifting rapidly under your eyelids. You sit straight backed beside the unconscious man with your palm pressed to his forehead and fingers tangling in his dark curls.

“How did this even happen?” Sam demands. “Isn’t the bird thing supposed to keep him safe?”

A chilly wind whips through the room.

“I think he’s listening,” Bruce mutters. “And I think he did his best. Some other god did this. Khonshu defeated him, but not in time to keep this from happening.”

“How do you know this? Can you talk to the bird thing?” Sam asks, purposefully goading Khonshu.

“Thor can.”

A heavy silence settles over the room.

“She just mind-walked yesterday,” Bucky growls and stands so he can pace out his nervous energy. “And this mind is hardly a simple one. She’s going to come out a disaster…” he trails off.

If she comes out at all. That’s what he was going to say, but he doesn’t want to so much as speak the terrible words into existence.

But you hadn’t even hesitated to take the dive, to walk into the mind of Marc, Steven, and Jake even knowing it could kill you.

Marc is still staring down at you while you lay back on the ground, and there is no denying that he is intimidating. He’s dressed in jeans and a dark shirt, the same outfit he always wears in the real world. That fascinates you, but there’s no time to unpack what it means right now.

“Marc,” you say his name softly. “Nat sent me here to wake you up. You’ve been unconscious for days. Kate and Clint only just found you a few hours-“

“I don’t want you here.”

“Do you think I enjoy this, Spector?” There is no anger in your voice as you stand, putting a few feet between the angry man and yourself. You are resigned to his hatred. “You think it’s fun popping into people’s heads? I’m more than aware of how violating it is, but you have to come out of this and soon, and we didn’t see a better option. So please just let me wake you up and you can go back to hating me.”

Marc surveys you for a long moment. He rolls his wrist and pops his neck.

“Just get out,” he snarls. “I‘ll find Steven and Jake and we’ll get out ourselves.”

He’ll find them? The questions sticks in your mind for a moment before annoyance takes priority over the curiosity. You aren’t going to just ‘get out.’

You are opening your mouth to say as much when a heavy body slams into you from the side, tackling you to the floor so hard it knocks the breath from your lungs. You’re so banged up. These injuries better not be on your physical body too.

A deep voice above you is spewing curses in Spanish and shouting something at Marc. Your ears ring too loud to hear whoever this newcomer is.

“Let’s go, hermosa.” The man on top of you stands and drags you to your feet. “Run!”

And you do. You don’t even question who this other person is or why you’re running. You simply take off in a sprint after him. The newcomer wears a jacket and a flat cap, but that’s all you can make out. That and you have finally realized where you are. Well, you knew where you were the whole time, but now you are realizing just what exactly it is.

A psychiatric ward. But not the clean, modern type. It is the horrific, decrepit, horror-movie type. Brick walls that are crumbling, smeared with a dark liquid you assume is blood. Dimly lit hallways. Water dripping from pipes and pooling dangerously on the tile floor. This is their mind?

Marc grabs your arm and yanks you into a room. He slams the door shut behind you and immediately rounds on the stranger.

“What the fuck Jake!”

Jake? You know that name. Jake Lockley. He is the alter none of the Avengers have met, just heard of. It’s the same body and the same face as he turns to you. But his expression is less emotional than Marc’s. Where Marc is all rage, Jake seems to possess a more muted curiosity about your presence. He blinks at you, then turns to Marc.

“Whoever trapped us here Khonshu took care of. But the dangers they planted in the headspace are still very real,” Jake explains as he peeks out of the small, dirty window to check the halls for danger.

“Quite the academic you are,” Marc remarks dryly and crosses his arms.

“Steven is just a few hallways away. He can explain this all much better.” Jake pulls off his hat to run a hand through his curls.

“Steven’s okay?” Marc’s voice is the softest you have ever heard. “He’s safe?”

“Safe enough and waiting for us. Then we can figure out how to wake ourself up.” Jake glances at you. “You’re the mind reader girl.”

You scoff. “I call it mind walking, but sure, I’m the mind reader girl.”

“Oh you pedantic bitch,” Marc snaps, and the word stings. Even Jake seems shocked at the venom in Marc’s tone. “Sorry we used the wrong term while you invade our mind. Is there really a fucking difference?”

He doesn’t want an answer, but you want to give one.

“Yes, you dense ass!” You wish you could think of a better insult. “Mind walking literally knocks me out. My consciousness doesn’t just touch yours and pick up some things, it’s inside of yours. Your mind is all around me. I can access just about any part of someone’s mind when I mind walk, even parts they don’t know about.”

“And you wonder why no one wants to be around you.”

Somehow that’s worse than being called a bitch. Embarrassingly, you find yourself blinking back tears. You still remember the days you thought you could befriend him, when you had liked him. You think that in the past-tense as if that crush is long past. It isn’t.

“Be nice,” Jake mutters as he finally shakes off his stunned look.

“You know,” Marc starts, clearly ignoring Jake. “You can go. We’ll be back to the real world in no time. We don’t need you meddling around with our head.”

You don’t have to explain that though, because before you can gather your thoughts Jake interrupts, “Stay. I think we’ll need your powers.”

As much as you want to go you can’t. That’s the problem with entering the unconscious mind - it’s nearly impossible to get out without bringing the other person with you. If you were at full strength it might be doable. But not now. Now your fate is tied to Moon Knight.

“We don’t-“ Marc starts.

Jake shoots him a look and puts his hat back on.

“Better to be safe. I think the hallway’s clear. Let’s get Steven and fix this.”

You follow Jake, Marc not far behind. Your trio moves silently but quickly as Jake leads you into another dingy room.

“Steven!” Marc pushes past you and falls to his knees beside Steven. This alter you had met briefly on one occasion. He had been nicer than Marc, but he still kept you at arm’s length.

Right now blood drips from a gash across Steven’s forehead, matting his messy curls to his head. He wears a loose patterned button down shirt and a jacket with light colored pants. You look over at Jake in his dark jacket with an intricately embroidered collar, white dress shirt, and flat cap. Marc, as you had noticed earlier, is wearing his usual attire. Which means this must be how Jake and Steven would dress when they front.

From a strictly academic perspective, it was fascinating. You’d never mind walked into someone with such a complex psychological condition. Each alter had a physical form in their headspace, and it seemed to be like an elaborately structured home for the three alters. Most minds were just a space, some more organized and complicated than others, but certainly none as incredible as this.

“What happened?” Marc’s question interrupts your thoughts.

“Hecca priests,” Steven murmurs in that rich British accent. “Some version of them at least. It’s Set, the sun god. He trapped us in our own mind, messed with it.”

“But this isn’t our headspace,” Marc protests.

It is unnerving to stand in a room with three men who both look the same and entirely different. Steven looks exhausted; he’s definitely hurt. Marc is hunched over, his back to you, but you hear worry in his voice. Jake’s hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans against a wall and tries to act like he isn’t staring at you.

You try to follow the conversation. Jake strolls over to whisper an explanation.

“Normally we’re in a mental ward, but clean and white with rooms of memories and no monsters. It’s rather relaxing.”

“It is our headspace though,” Steven answers Marc. “Just twisted by a vengeful god. Wonder who got us involved with those again?”

He fixes Marc with a pointed and amused glare.

“Using our own headspace as a prison,” Marc ponders the explanation and ignores Steven’s snide comment. “It is smart.”

Steven’s unfocused gaze catches on you then.

“You’re here?”

Marc whips his gaze around to you too like he’d forgotten your presence.

There’s something accusing in his eyes. No, maybe it’s not accusing. Distrustful. Does he think you are going to hurt Steven? Or does he not want them to be seen so vulnerable?

“Yes,” you answer simply. There really is nothing else to say.

“Good. Because I think we need you to wake us up.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Marc jumps in, shooting you a look that clearly says to keep quiet. “When we died, we got out fine on our own.”

Steven laughs. “Mate, Osiris loved our little heart to heart and brought us back to life. This is totally different.”

“How?”

“Well for one, we aren’t dead.” It’s Jake’s turn to argue with Marc.

“I can wake you up now, I think,” you offer.

“Alright-“ Steven starts to accept.

“Fuck off!” Marc interrupts.

That’s it. You have had it with his attitude.

“What did I do to you?” You demand, advancing on Marc who stands to face you and squares his shoulders. “I’m trying to help you! I’m your teammate! I’ve never been anything but kind while you quite literally pretend I don’t exist. Last week, I tried to talk to you at dinner, and you acted like you couldn’t hear me. When I walk into a room you leave. So what is it, Spector? My powers? They are completely under control. I just want you to not die today, so let me fucking help!”

“I don’t need you!” Marc closes the space between your bodies. “You are- you-“ He sputters.

“Marc doesn’t want someone like you seeing inside our head,” Steven jumps in much to Marc’s chagrin.

“Shut up, Steven.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone kind, sweet. A potential love interest.”

“Shut up, Steven!” Marc bites out again

“Well it’s true ‘innit?”

A potential what??

“Not that this isn’t fun and well overdue, but the longer we’re trapped here, the harder it will be to get back.” Jake is the voice of reason for once.

He’s right. There’s a time to unpack Marc’s psyche, and it, ironically, is not right now.

“Let’s vote,” Steven wipes a drip of blood from his brow. “All in favor of letting her help.”

Jake and Steven raise their hands. Then slowly, miraculously, Marc raises his too.

“Unanimous. Brilliant! What do we do?”

In a lesser mind, you would have merely snapped your fingers, maybe literally, and woken both of you up easily. That isn’t going to work here. Their mind is complicated already, made even more so by a third party holding it hostage. Plus you are, as your trembling legs remind you, exhausted.

You crouch down beside Steven and take his hand then reach for Jake’s. He takes it and grasps Marc’s hand who completes the circle.

“Think about waking up in the morning,” you say quietly as you shut your eyes and channel the last dredges of your strength even as you draw on theirs. “What do you do? What’s your alarm sound like? Think about pulling the covers back. Think about opening your eyes to the morning sun. Think about the best parts of being alive, the things you feel - really feel - when you have the body, the parts of the world that are most real. The crunch of waffles. The smell of rain.” You are talking to yourself now. Or maybe thinking. It’s hard to tell the difference between mind and reality. Maybe there is no difference.

A warm mug of tea. The soft fur of a cat. Soft white wrappings. The smell of new books. Old books. Light falling across a museum exhibit. Fluffy pillows soft beneath your head. The quiet crunch of leather gloves folding around a steering wheel. Desert sands.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake-

You jerk forward off the chair, catching yourself weakly against the mattress before any of the Avengers can get to you. Bucky slides down to the floor beside you.

“Are you okay?” He demands urgently, and the worry is prominent in his voice.

“Yeah,” you rasp and use Bucky to pull yourself up.

“He’s waking up too.” Nat breathes an audible sigh of relief.

You don’t want to see Marc. Or Steven or Jake. And the after effects of mind walking are coming. Marc didn’t develop DID from a happy childhood, which means things are about to get bad for you.

You assure Bucky and Sam that you are alright, that you want to be alone this time, and hurry out of the room, barely making it to your room as pain flares in your skull. You crumple onto your bed and don’t even have time to cover yourself in blankets before it begins.

A/N: Part 2 will be so angsty and fluffy and wonderful. It is written and just needs edited, so it will be out soon!

EDIT: Part 2

My Masterlist

Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.)

**This is a mess. Some people won’t tag. I’ve definitely missed people. I’m so so sorry!

@love-on-the-murder-scene @bookfrog242 @irethepotato @graciexmarvel @simonsbluee @nagemasstuff @whovian378 @cringingmemeries @eerievixen @velyssaraptor @lethalbeautiful @mixerya92 @marrigold-2002 @wolf-phoenix-lover @sugarpunch-princess @slytherheign @simping-master-69 @bristark616 @kotonei-molyneux @slasherssexslave @luna-maximoff-22 @fantasy-is-best @dd242 @harrys-tittie @fandomgal64 @7minutes-tomidnight @laters-gators12 @deliciousblackfatcat @rqmanoff @xzombiealicex @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @femalemarvelself @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @hopefulfangirl24 @ale0m @infinityparadoxloop @a1tbunny @in-between-the-cafes @leh2393 @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @hopefulfangirl24 @hb8301 @jvstjewels @mrsxreeves @alicetweven @kezibear @woofgocows @blulemonades @alicetweven @welcometostayingawake @queenie-rebel @snowinseptember

810 notes · View notes

luke-o-lophus · 2 years

Text

All of Me, All of You

Summary: Steven's life is finally going his way, but he's feeling empty. It's up to you, his long time friend, to remind him he's beautiful and worthy of love. And maybe find love along the way.

Warnings: Some self depreciating thoughts. Mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort. Sooo much FLUFF!

There is silence on the other end of the phone. For a moment you think the network was iffy, but you can hear faint notes of traffic noise through the call.

"Steven..?", you try carefully, your heart already pounding in worry. Is this even him calling?...Did the suit fail?.... did Khonshu make them do something horrific, did --

"Y-yeah", his small voice answers, a cool wave of relief washing over you. He's alive. "Oh thank god, Steven, are you okay?" you scramble to a sitting position, phone clutched tightly. "N-no", he almost whimpers before adding "I'm not hurt, I'm home, we're safe." You're quiet for a few beats as you process that news before you say softly,"Can I come over?"

Steven looks like a wet cat. The tip of his nose is red, his eyes not meeting your gaze when he opens the door for you. You hurriedly prop your umbrella by the door and usher him to his couch, fussing over his wet hoodie and how he should have called you to be picked up from the university if he didn't have an umbrella. Steven's usually mouthy when you fuss over him, sassing you back, but he's awfully quiet when you sit him down. Before you can turn to get a towel, he has wrapped his arms around your torso, caging you to his seated form. You jump slightly in surprise, but his face is stuffed to your tummy, hidden from sight. "Oh sweetie", you mouth in the faintest of whispers, shuffling yourself closer to him and splaying fingers in the wet mess of his hair. You hold him to yourself, stroking his head gently, feeling the shudders pass through his form. He is weeping.

Steven never cries, Marc is the one who cries easily. As if once he got the license to cry before you without judgement or fear of being treated differently, Marc could not stop. You've even seen Jake cry once or twice. But Steven, no. He's so good at de-escalating tension and finding emotional outlets that it never gets there. You give his shaking body another once-over. But no, no traces of blood on his clothes, just soaked and stuck to his skin.

When his grip loosens, you kneel down to his level and sweep some of his curls from his forehead. "Come, Steven, lemme get you out of these. You need warm clothes", you try gently. This is unfamiliar territory, you don't know how to approach him when he's this vulnerable. Does he want to talk about it, like Marc...or pretend the moment never happened, like Jake?

Steven being Steven, doesn't leave you fumbling in the dark. He gently pulls you up onto his lap. "Shirt is drier", he says between sniffles, pulling the hoodie off and dropping it onto the ground. You nod, hoisting yourself comfortably on his lap, sitting sideways and leaning back against the armrest. He rests his hand on your knee, absently tracing with his thumb. "Do you..wanna talk about it?", you tread carefully. Steven sighs heavily at the query, his thumb not stilling.

"I topped the semester exams", he mutters.

Whatever you had expected or imagined, that was not one of them. You let out a small noise of confusion before you can stop yourself, and your friend lets out a bark of humorless laughter. "I know I should be happy", he continues. "But I'm not." He finally looks up at you, eyes heavy from tears and exhaustion. "I thought finally getting to study Egyptology, being chummy with the others, and...you know, the rest. I thought I'll be bloody happy", he shivers. "Today my professors say they're proud of me, but I...I...." He shakes his head and drops it back against the couch.

"You feel lonely?", you ask. A tremor passes through his body at the word, and you know you've hit the nail on the head. "I am sorry", he is almost pleading, looking down at your knees. "You're always here for me, and I'm being a...I'm so sorry"

"Hey, hey", you gently pull him out of his spiral. "We do not apologise for how we feel, hmm? And..I get it. Having friends and...a partner? Not the same." Steven hums and wraps an arm around you, your head tucked under his chin with practised ease. You grab a hold of his hand, dragging it away from your knee and playing with his deft fingers. "I just feel like I'm holding the others back. I'm with my books and papers..and they're so handsome...have you seen Jake?"

That makes you sit up straight. You were no stranger to his distorted sense of self, the way he hid himself and his body. But hear him say he's holding the others back? "Steven, love", you start, cupping his cheek. "You are handsome, gorgeous even. You know I wouldn't lie."

"You're just saying that", he dismisses you. "No!", your voice rises an octave. "No, hear me out." You scoot off his lap to kneel on the couch. "You, Steven Grant, have the most beautiful eyes of any human on the planet...uh-uh..don't interrupt me. You have the cutest blush when you're happy, and your nose..ooh" You drag a finger down the bridge of his nose as you make the cheeky comment, and he can't help cracking a smile. You smile back in truimph, continuing,"You have a voice I could listen to all day, hair I'd never get tired of playing with... and you have..pretty! lips!" You punctuate the last two words with taps to his lips with your pointer finger, and he ducks a little with a blush. Your cheeky smile softens then, as your heart clenches at the sight. He was so beautiful, so close, but never close enough to call yours. You draw your hand back, and Steven's brows furrow at the sudden intensity of your gaze. "Anyone would be lucky to have you", you breathe out.

There's dead silence for a few moments, almost as if you both have stopped breathing too, then Steven mutters quietly,"Including you?" You hold his gaze for a moment before chuckling mirthlessly and tearing your gaze away. It almost hurts as you whisper out,"...Especially me." But Steven's hands are cupping your face and making you look back up. His face looks wrecked, eyes so wide with hope they're bordering on terror. "Do you...mean what I think you mean?", he treads carefully. His gaze hypnotizing, you can't look away as you speak,"Would you like it if I said yes?" Steven shudders at that, his body melting into yours. "I'd be thrilled", he answers simply.

And that answer is all you need -- so simple, so Steven. "I'd be thrilled too, if you liked that", you bite your lips in sudden shyness. Arms engulf you in a hug again, pulling you back onto his lap.

"So..you like me, huh?", his voice is dripping with cheekiness. You sputter in indignation. "How dare you tease me about that?", you whine. He laughs then, a musical sound, and leans close to touch your foreheads together. The moments linger on, calm and sweet, right out of a sappy romance novel. Then his eyes glaze over for a few, but he's back soon, sitting back with a whine. "What happened?", you ask. "The others are being mean", he pouts. "Jake's paying up to Marc. They bet on who'd confess first"

#moon knight #luke shares #marc spector #steven grant #marvel #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley #steven with a v #fluff #hurt/comfort #moon knight fluff

541 notes · View notes

gooddaysmeanwritingdays · 2 years

Text

Bad Days

Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!Reader, Marc Spector x gn!Reader, Jake Lockley x gn!Reader Fandom: Moon Knight Warnings: Reader has a bad day and snaps at their darlings, hurt/comfort, so much fluff, swearing Word Count: 3.6k Summary: You had a bad day and your darlings take care of you

A/N: This fic is set after the show (like 4 years? after) where Reader and their darlings are in an established relationship. This is my first fic (and first x Reader fic ever) on here so I really have no idea what I'm doing. It also started out in first person POV before I changed it to 2nd person POV (so let me know if you see any errors

I also made a playlist for this fic you can feel free to listen to as you read this 💖

Divider by @maysdigitalarts

“How was work, love?” Steven asked, smiling as you walked through the door. There was a soft smile on his face—one he always greeted you with—as he stood up from the couch, but it faltered when he noticed your thunderous expression. “That bad, hmm?”

“I swear to fucking God—” you slammed the door “—if I have to listen to Gloria talk about her cat for another fucking minute, I’ll go mad.” Anger bubbled away beneath your skin, and you wanted to scream. “She wouldn’t stop talking, and when I finally got away, I’d missed my bus and got shit on by a bird!”

You threw your bag on the couch, not caring when it dropped to the floor, and everything spilled out. “I’ve told her time and time again that I couldn’t care less about her damn cat, but it’s like she doesn’t care! She just keeps talking!” You paced about the floor, getting angrier by the minute. “And then when I finally got to my car, I got stuck in all the traffic! It’s like every man and his fucking dog was on that road! And you want to know why there was traffic?”

You turned to Steven and he leaned against the kitchen bench, watching you patiently, warmly. “Why?”

“Because there was a fucking parade! But did they think to tell anyone? Nooo!” You threw your hands in the air. “How the fuck are we supposed to plan around it if we don’t even know about it?” You pressed a hand to your hair, knowing you needed to calm down—Steven didn’t need to hear this. “Ugh! A simple sign would have been nice! They have all the fucking voting signs up, why can’t they put one up about a parade blocking half the fucking road?”

You wound your fingers through your hair and pulled until the sting of the roots grounded you. You could hear Steven’s footsteps behind you as he came closer, but when he rested his hands gently on your shoulders you shied away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t stop to apologise. It felt like the entire world was vibrating and your skin crawled when he touched you. You knew you needed to explain that it wasn’t him—that it was you entirely, but all you could think about then was escape. You needed to get out of there. The fastest way possible. Before you said something you didn’t mean.

“I– I need a minute,” you said in way of the only apology you could make then. “I just– I need a minute.”

Steven covered up the hurt with a nod and a small smile as you started to back away. “I’ll be here, love.”

There was a shift in him as you darted for the balcony; a tightening in his posture and a lowering of his brows as he watched you go. Your heart broke a little as you recognised the switch. After everything that had happened, it was still Marc’s instinct to take control whenever Steven was hurting. And it broke your heart to see them both hurting because of you.

You slipped outside, your skin crackling and soul snapping as everything caught up with you. It was still raining lightly, but you were too hot to care.

You scrabbled for your earphones, snarling at them when they got tangled. Eventually you got them out and into your phone jack, and it felt like you could finally breathe as your music started coming through the tiny speakers. It was a playlist Steven had made specially for your—every song designed to soothe the ache of your soul on the bad days.

You stepped up against the railing and closed your eyes as the rain tapped against your skin and the music wafted through your ears. You dropped your head against the cold metal railing and let out a long breath.

It was like today had been designed just to piss you off. You were good at your job, but today you had made every mistake possible. Half-awake you’d switched the good coffee for the decaf your boss left for the rude guests, then you’d sent the rejection letter to the wrong client, and to top it all off you’d then eaten Kathy’s terrible tuna sandwich instead of the curry you’d been craving since you’d rolled out of bed.

But after all of that, you’d still managed to finish early and laugh with your co-workers about how you needed more sleep. Because you’d been so excited to go home to see the one person you knew could make your whole day brighter that that stuff hadn’t mattered. Not really. Not when you could go home to his arms and just relax.

But then you’d run into Gloria from the accounting firm next door, and it had only gotten worse from there. It was like every possible obstacle and frustration had been placed in your path to keep you away from your darling.

You closed your eyes, your anger switching slowly to regret and self-loathing as you thought of the man back inside. Your darling Steven. The one you’d just snapped at when he’d tried to help you. The one who was never anything but good and kind and wonderfully beautiful. The one who always greeted you with a loving smile and a warm hug. He made your soul sing and your heart soar. The world brightened with every second he was in it, and you’d snapped at him like some hateful idiot.

Suddenly tears were pressing against your eyes, and you were regretting all of it. You swallowed thickly. You turned around and slid to the ground so that your back was against the railing. You pulled your knees to your chest and dropped your head into your arms atop them.

You were always like this. Whenever you got mad, you’d push people away. And if they tried to touch you it only got worse. When you got mad like that, it was like your skin was crawling whenever someone touched you—and you hated it. It was like you could have peeled off your skin just to get away from the touch of someone else’s skin on yours.

Because when you were mad, you just wanted to be left alone.

And it never mattered with anyone else because they never mattered, but with your darling Steven—it broke your heart.

You took a deep breath, clearing out the lump in your throat and tipped your head back to the sky. You and your darlings lived on the fourth floor, and the two floors above you didn’t stick out as far, so whenever it rained, the last two rows of tiles on our balcony would always get wet. Like right now. Right now, the tiles beneath you were wet and soaking into your pants, and the rain above you was dripping down your cheeks. And you loved it.

Anger made you hot, and there was nothing better than cool rain and soft music to calm you down.

Logically, you knew today hadn’t been that bad. Only Brad had been unfortunate enough to drink the decaf before he’d switched it, and the client had laughed with you about the mix-up, glad it wasn’t for them. And Kathy had actually thanked you for the excuse to buy lunch than have that sandwich she’d been dreading.

And on better days you didn’t mind talking to Gloria about her cat. It reminded you of the one you’d had growing up. You’d laugh about the copious amounts of cat fur left behind and the crazy runs they’d do after toilet trips.

And traffic wasn’t fun for anyone, but normally you could deal with it with good music and the windows down.

But today was a bad day. And bad days meant crappy moods and jittery limbs.

Your life had been full of bad days before you’d met your darling. Between your parent’s furious divorce and their absentee parenting skills, bad days had been constant growing up. But then you’d met Steven and Marc and the good days had started to balance out the bad days. Even Jake with his teasing had helped brighten the world.

But being in love didn’t mean good days forever. Sometimes the bad days would creep in, and the only way to get through them was soft music and cold things. And patience.

The cold rain seeped through your pants and the shoulders of your shirt, and you took another deep breath. You filled your lungs and let the cold and the wet and the soft music seep in, and you let out the bad moods and the jittery limbs and the crawling skin.

You took a deep breath.

And another.

And with every deep breath you breathed in the good and breathed out the bad.

***

By the time you opened your eyes again, the sun had gone down, and the drizzle had stopped. Inside, the lights were on, and you could see your darling moving about the kitchen. Even amidst everything bad, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. Your heart ached with how much you loved him—all of them.

Steven had been the first—the easiest—to fall in love with. With his shy smiles and passionate ramblings. There were many nights you’d fallen asleep to the sound of his voice, already head over heels for him—even if you hadn’t known it then. It had been like falling in love with your best friend. Easy, soft, and oh-so right.

Marc had been harder. After everything, he hadn’t believed he was worth loving, or that anyone ever could. And he’d been so angry. The number of arguments the two of you had had in the beginning could have started wars. But somewhere between those arguments, you’d fallen for him. With unwavering determination to do right, and that smile he’d give when he thought you weren’t looking—oh that smile could launch a thousand ships.

And Jake… Jake had been a surprise. Marc and Steven had only been half aware of him when you’d started dating them, but when you’d finally met him, loving him was like falling asleep—ridiculously impossible. Every second with him had infuriated you to no end. With his awful smirks and constant teasing, you’d hated every minute. Except not really. Because with every smirk there was a never-ending supply of morning cuddles and late-night talks. Falling in love with Jake had never been a choice—and certainly not one you’d ever change.

Because falling in love with your darlings was easy and impossible and inevitable.

And hurting them was like nails in your heart.

You could feel tears brewing behind your eyes again as you watched them inside, but you swallowed them down. You didn’t have the energy for tears now. All you wanted was to go back inside, into the arms of the men you loved and ask for their forgiveness.

You stood up, joints crackling with disuse, and walked back inside. Marc turned at the sound of the door and watched you—wariness in his eyes—as you set your phone and earphones down.

“Sorry,” you whispered into the quiet, knowing he wasn’t going to say anything until you did. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Today was a bad day.”

He leaned against the countertop, setting the towel down slowly. “How do you feel now?”

There was a wariness in his posture that made your heart ache. You’d been together for four years now, and you’d had plenty of bad days—enough for your darling to know that sometimes the rain and the music didn’t always help.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t mistrust behind that wariness. You knew Marc loved you—it was something he’d never let you forget—but protecting Steven had always been his first priority. And so you couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t—deep down—some part of Marc that thought you would hurt Steven too.

You took a deep breath around the pain that thought brought up. You took your time, wanting to give him an honest answer. “Tired,” you said finally, shoulders slumped. “I just want this day to be over.

Tenderness flooded Marc’s features, and he held his arms out to you. “Come here, baby.”

You were in his arms in an instant, melting when he pulled you in tighter. You breathed him in and shuddered in relief to finally be home.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“You don’t need to apologise, baby.” He pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “We don’t get to control our bad days.” He wound his fingers through your hair as his other arm tightened around your waist. And just like he knew what you were going to say, he said, “And even if all you had were bad days, I’d still love you just as much as I do now.”

Marc shifted against you and Steven’s voice whispered through, “We all would, love.”

You whimpered softly at the love in their voices. Because that was always a worry of yours, on the bad days—and even the good ones. That eventually you’d push your darlings away. That there would be something that would finally push them over the edge and be the final straw.

But every time, they’d just pull you closer and tell you how much they loved you.

You pulled him closer and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Always, mi vida.”

***

It was when you started shivering that he finally pulled away. Jake cupped your cheek and tilted his head back to the bathroom behind him. “Shower time. Can’t have you shivering all night—you’ll make me look bad, mi vida.”

You snorted lightly at his teasing, making him grin that full gorgeous grin you so loved.

“There you are,” he murmured, dropping his forehead to yours. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whispered back, leaning into his touch. “I missed you.”

He kissed your forehead softly. “I missed you too.” Jake interlocked your fingers and pulled you towards the bathroom after him. “Come on. Shower time.”

As he got the water to the perfect temperature—burning hot—you stripped wordlessly before stepping into the shower. You sighed in delight under the water, enjoying the burn to your skin. Jake’s grip on your hand loosened as he stepped back to let you enjoy your shower, but you pulled him closer, not ready to let go of him yet.

He stepped in behind you without hesitation—clothes still on—already knowing what you were asking. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he stepped under the spray. You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the rest of the tension melt away. Between the hot water and the arms of your darling around you, you could think of no better place to be.

“Better, mi vida?” he murmured, drawing circles against your skin.

“I’m always better when you’re around,” you sighed, leaning into his touch.

Jake let out a soft, choked noise as he pressed his face into your hair and pulled you closer. “Flirt,” he said in a strangled voice.

You smiled into his shoulder. You’d meant every word of it. Since coming into your life Jake, Marc and Steven had made every second of it better. Even the bad days like today were infinitely better than if you’d been alone.

“We’re better when you’re around too, love,” Steven whispered, holding you so tenderly you could have cried. Instead, you just pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Grabbing the soap behind you, he started gently massaging the suds into your skin. He took his time, and you were content to lean into them entirely. You closed your eyes and let them take care of you. It was rare you all had a chance to take your time like this, and you wanted to bask in it. To bask in the attention of your darlings as they planted soft kisses along your shoulders.

You wanted to stay like this forever.

You didn’t know who was in charge of the body now, but you didn’t mind one bit. You knew each of your darlings loved you entirely—just as you loved them—and in times like these you didn’t need to know when they loved you so wonderfully.

They let you stand under the water for another minute before reaching behind you to turn it off. There was a fond smile in his voice as he said, “Come on, baby.” He wrapped a towel around you as you groaned half-heartedly, your head still resting on his shoulder. He laughed as you tried to reach behind you to turn the water back on. “If I let you stay in until you were finished, baby, the world would run out of water.”

“And?” you murmured, not seeing his point at all.

He chuckled lightly and your lips tipped up at the corners at the beautiful sound. “And you wouldn’t be able to have another hot shower ever again.”

“You make a decent point, my darling.” You lifted your head slightly to level him a serious look, even if he could see the tired amusement in your eyes. “But I have an even better counterpoint.”

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow as he dried you off. “And what’s that, love?”

“Hot water,” you replied with finality, and he laughed.

He cupped your cheeks in his warm palms. “You are ridiculous, mi vida.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose with a smile.

“But I’m your ridiculous,” you said with a half-smile, pulling the towel tighter around you.

He shook his head with a smile. “Yes. You are my ridiculous. Our ridiculous.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips that you leaned into entirely. “Now—our ridiculous—how about we go to bed?”

That sounded like heaven. “But you’re all wet.” You pointed to his soaking clothes.

“And whose fault is that, love?”

You thought about it for a second. “Yours, darling.”

His smile was soft and endearing as he handed you your pyjamas before grabbing his own towel. You leaned against the sink as you watched him unabashedly. You didn’t even bother getting dressed—you just wanted to watch the loves of your life. To drink up every detail of him like it was the last time.

It was moments like these that made your world spin. That made your heart sing. Just watching the light of your world doing something as normal as dressing—and getting to do that, after everything you’d both been through—was beautiful.

I love you all so much, you thought as you watched him towel-dry his hair. It was so domestic that you couldn’t decide whether to kiss him senseless or melt right there. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you. And I’m the luckiest person in the world to be loved by you.

“Enjoying the show, mi vida?” Your darling raised an eyebrow at you as he caught you staring.

You shrugged like you weren’t still falling in love with him every second. “It could have been slower.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to plant a series of kisses across your face. “Here I am trying to do something nice, love, and you’re ogling me,” he laughed between kisses.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled—the first real one all afternoon. “You’re my husband. I’m allowed to ogle.”

“Ogle all you want, baby,” he murmured against your lips before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Your heart soared at the words and your cheeks ached with the smile you were trying to hold back.

Steven brushed his nose against yours. “I love your smile,” he whispered like a confession. “It’s my favourite part of the day when I get to see them, love.”

Even after all these years, he could still make you blush. So you smiled. It was the least you could do for your darling.

“There it is,” Jake whispered, running his thumb over your lips. “Mi sol.”

You closed your eyes, taking the moment to breathe. All you could smell was their cologne; all you could feel was their arms around you; all you could hear was their heartbeat as you rested your head on their chest. You were entirely surrounded by them, and for the first time that afternoon, you were happy.

“How did I get so lucky—” you whispered, “—to be loved by you?”

Their smile was simple. “You loved us first.”

You pulled their head down for a kiss that held every ounce of your love for them, and they responded with all of theirs.

Not one, but three, you thought to yourself, utterly amazed at your luck. Steven, Marc, Jake—you three mean more to me than you could ever know. I love you all. To the moon and back.

You basked in their attention, content to stand there all night in the arms of your darlings. But after a moment, they pulled you to your bedroom. Insisting you put your pyjamas on—even if Jake did send you a wink—before pulling you into bed.

“Gay pirates?” he said the moment you were curled into his side, and you nodded instantly.

“Gay pirates.” Nothing would make you happier than watching Blackbonnet fall in love while you lay in the arms of the man you loved.

You pressed yourself closer to him as his arm curled around your waist. “Thank you,” you whispered as the TV turned on. “Thank you for being here with me. You are exactly what I needed.”

You didn’t have to explain that you didn’t just mean today.

You could see each of them shining through as they smiled your favourite gorgeous smile. “There’s nowhere else we’d rather be.”

A/N: After I wrote this, I came up with like three more ideas for these babies so this is definitely going to turn into a series haha

Let me know what you think 💖

761 notes · View notes

trickster-jpeg · 3 months

Text

Cracked At The Line In The Air, I feel safe.

Summary: Steven accidentally breaks his childhood teddy and it triggers a meltdown.

Warnings: Steven hits himself as a stim during his meltdown. Not sure of that warrants a warning but just in case.

Word Count: 1607 It's On AO3 -> Here

A/N: 'Ricitos' is just a term of endearment (usually for a partner, up to you how you interpret it) that means curly hair/small curls.

It’s broken. It’s broken. Oh my god, it’s broken.

Steven was laying in bed. It was the middle of the night and he was just settling down to sleep. It had been a good day. Nothing bad had happened, he’d been rather at ease, enjoying going about his day with minimal interference. He’d rolled over to lay down on his side and seen his childhood teddy tipped over, having fallen onto the floor. It was a fuzzy small elephant called Nellie. The stuffing distributed unevenly and one of the ears slightly worse for wear than the other due to constant chewing as a child, but it was still whole. It had small black beads for eyes, a stubby little trunk, and two tiny white mounds either side of its face for tusks. Not wanting her to be lonely, because he still had a tendency to anthropomorphize things, he went to pick her up and place her back on her spot on the bed.

Despite having had it for decades, it was still in relatively solid condition. He’d put effort into maintaining its state and was rather chuffed with himself at having had her for so long with minimal incidents. Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking when one of the seams on its neck had stuck out and gotten caught in the floorboards. He had no idea how, but it did, and when he grabbed her to pull her upwards it started to tug. Something he had realised far too late to stop it from happening.

The seam had stayed wedged firmly in the crack and as soon as the force of pulling the toy was applied, it started to unravel. In an instant, the body started to separate from the head, the old stuffing starting to tip and pile out onto the floor beneath itself. The stitches snapped as the neck stayed stuck to the ground, disconnecting from the main body and tugging a front arm off along with it.

His brain stopped dead in its tracks, physically incapable of processing what had just happened. It was almost as if time had slowed as Steven watched the events unfold in absolute horror. He froze instantly, eyes bulging as his mouth hung open with shock. A tremble immediately started to zap through his hand as his fingers loosened from a firm clasp around the worn but soft body of the toy, to a lax and limp claw that was just barely holding it. It was only as it tumbled out of his grip to lay with the rest of itself, surrounded by the stuffing that was once inside, that Steven lunged at the broken object, his heart pounding out of his chest as he frantically tried to gather all of the pieces together in his arms.

“No. No, no, no, no- NO- NO!”

His lungs constricted as his breathing instantly got caught, fractured breaths intermingling with the rising nausea and swirled around like the ocean in a storm. Broken sounding words flooded from his mouth as he stuttered to get them out in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the crushing pressure growing like a lump in his throat. They got muddled and stuck, his tongue getting in the way as he tried to stammer anything new, but was unable to get them out in a way that felt right. His mouth quickly flooded with the crimson metallic taste of blood as he bit down on his cheek, his jaw crunching down in a moment of shock as he tried to process what just happened.

Fat globules of tears poured down his face as he desperately willed the pieces to form back together, to undo it all and fix itself. His breaths heaved as he continued to work himself up, bawling harder and harder as he grasped the pieces impossibly closer to him. The sudden heartbreak was painful, physically painful and even more so psychologically. He felt the disparaging familiarity of dissociation grip him, his brain disconnecting from his body as he started to heave strangled sobs, whimpering pleas for the elephant to be okay. For his Nellie to be all better again.

He couldn’t lose her, she’d been there for him since he was a kid. She was the only thing that could calm him down when things got too bad, something not even his headmates could fully manage to do. Meltdowns, flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks. Even just giving him something to cry into when a character he liked in a film died, or just something to fall asleep with when he needed to. He didn’t care that people might see it as childish, after everything the system had been through when they were supposed to have been a child, he thought they should almost be owed it to make up for lost time. But Nellie was something from his childhood. Their childhood. Which is why it was all the more painful that she was now broken apart and torn in his arms.

Gradually, he felt his body begin to rock back and forwards, his breathing trying to match the motions frantically at the sudden awareness he really wasn’t breathing right. How could he have been so careless? How stupid could he have been to just destroy one of his most treasured items? One of the only truly, wholly good things they had from their parents, from their little brother, and he’d gone and broken it. Bringing the main body of the teddy to his face, he pressed it against his skin and started to muffle his cries, the pain steadily shifting into a burning anger. Anger that he could blame no one for but himself.

His brows furrowed in irritation as a swelling burning flashed in his chest, his grip tightened around the material painfully as the rage towards himself grew. The feeling began to burst through his limbs as he clenched his jaw almost painfully, grinding his teeth in annoyance as tears kept trickling down his face. Through huffed breaths, a guttural rumble rose in his oesophagus and tore up his throat in a furious roar.

“FUCK! HOW COULD I BE SO FUCKING STUPID? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? FUCKING STUPID- USELESS- WORTHLESS FUCKING- FUCK-”

In an instant, he raised his arms up with fists balled and started to bash them against the side of his head. The motion was repetitive and a bit painful, but soothing in a way. He carried on letting random, frustrated words and whines fumble out of his lips as his body took over. Tears and snot dripped down his face as he continued to hit his temples, sobbing in bitterness as a crash of self-hatred pooled in his chest. Briefly, he thought he heard someone speaking to him but he couldn’t figure out what they were saying.

There was a new resistance in his arms, something that pulled them back and made them feel not quite right. That made him almost struggle to do the thing that was soothing him. That was helping. Made it feel like it wasn’t helping. Like it was almost worse. He didn’t like it, it felt restraining. So instead moved them away and sat on his hands, trying to mitigate the uncomfortable feeling that stopped them with pressure. Continued to rock back and forth, to make the noises that climbed up his throat.

“Steven. It’s going to be okay. We can fix it. It’s alright.”

He shook his head disparagingly at the words, too overwhelmed to be able to form anything comprehensible. His legs bounced rhythmically as he tried to convey what he wanted to say, tried desperately to grasp at words and throw them out in a way that made sense. That helped him explain that it wasn’t alright and that it couldn’t be fixed. That he couldn’t fix it and it was too late for anything to be saved. But in some way he felt as though the speaker understood his thoughts regardless of whether or not they were spoken, and the gravelled voice spoke again. Accompanied by someone else.

“It might not feel like it, but this’ll pass and we can stitch her up. She’ll be fine, it was an accident, Steven. You’re not stupid or useless, it was a mistake.”

“He’s right, ricitos. We can fix our fluffy friend. Maybe even get her some new stuffing and fill it out properly again.”

As the voices spoke, they projected feelings of warmth. There was a contrast between their comfort and the gradual dimming of the burning that had been exploding in his chest. Whatever it was, it was nice. It was kind. Caring. And they said they could fix it. They could fix Nellie. He just needed to try and calm down so that they could. Gently, he felt himself move off of sitting on his hands. Felt them start to lift and snake up to wrap around him and hold him in a way that felt good. That felt safe. Protected. It felt like he could just let go.

He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. Didn’t want to feel any of it. And somehow he knew they would be able to help him stop feeling that way. They’d be able to fix it for him, they could fix Nellie. Stop him from causing more damage to their belongings and their body. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he never meant to hurt them, never meant to hurt himself. But he just couldn’t help it. So, that’s what he did. He let the pair take his place, and went into the back.

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon knight fanfic #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #autistic steven grant #(Marc & Jake are as well but this is just focused on Steven)#my fic #ao3 #hurt/comfort #meltdowns #we stan Nellie the elephant here #writing

20 notes · View notes

winniethewife · 5 months

Text

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 9: With no secrets, no obsession

Warning: Smut under the cut! Fembodied, threesome, PinV, fingering, against a wall, unprotected sex, on a car sex, public sex, glove kink, Reader called a good girl , tiny bit of angst.

Minors DNI

Last Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Words:1462

Their bodies, against mine, the warmth of their love. It’s like a Band-Aid on my bleeding heart. I can’t keep up, I can’t keep doing this. It’s eating at the corners of my mind. Sounds are so much louder, the lights so much brighter, everything is intense. Constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for something that will never come.

I open my eyes wide as I feel Marc’s rough hands grabbing me and pulling me down onto him as I lay between him and Layla. Her hands pulling my chin while kissing me with her body pushing into mine. She swallows my moans as Marc drives himself into me from behind. Layla’s lips on mine as she holds me close. All this because the doctors cleared me for strenuous activity again. I was pretty sure he had carrying in the groceries, or going to the gym in mind when he mentioned it to me. But as soon as I mentioned it to Marc and Layla over dinner, I swear neither of them could keep their hands off of me. Now caught between them, our clothes tossed to the sides, I think my underwear is hanging off the bedside lamp, it’s a moment of enduring love and passion as they take care of me. I feel Marc’s hot breath on my neck as he thrusts into me.

“Baby, Fuck…You feel so good around me…” Marc growls softly in my ear, he groans as he trusts up into me again and again. I whimpered softly as I felt Layla’s hand slip between my legs and her fingers start circling my clit. She pulls away from the kiss and looks into my eyes.

“That’s it, Let us take care of you…” She softly tells me as she runs her thumb over my swollen lip, before sliding the tip of it in my mouth. I obediently suck on it gently. She smiles at me “Good girl…that’s right.” She coo’s at me as she rubs circles around my clit. For a split second I realize that my mind is clear, I’m not living this moment in a haze when Marc’s lips hit my neck, I feel his teeth against my skin. I gasp at the feeling as my climax rushes my body.

“Oh Love…please…” Steven moans as I palm his bulge, pressing Him against the wall in the living room.

“Please what Steven?” I ask as I move my hand along his clothed length. He whimpers softly.

“Please…Fuck me, Oh gods I need you to fuck me.” Steven pleads with me, his dark puppy dog eyes looking into mine, a soft pout of his face as he bucks his hips into my hand.

“Awe you poor little puppy, so needy for me” I growl in his ear as I press him into the wall sliding my hand into his sweat pants. All I can think about is how badly I want to stay in my mind, I want to keep myself in the present with clarity, enjoy every moment they give me. If I can just…forget about the system, my training, everything that plagues my mind. I take him in my hand, his hard cock feels good as I move my hand along his shaft. Pressing my lips to his as He whines, licking into his mouth as he fucks himself with my hand. His actions so desperate. He needs it as bad as I do. I pull down my Pajama pants and underwear kicking them to the side. Steven takes the opportunity to spin me against the wall, lifting me, pressing me against the wall, holding my ass as he kisses my neck. I let of a soft groan as I wrap my legs around his waist.

“This A’right then Darling? I just need you…S’bad. Can’t wait.” He hurriedly says as he pulls his sweat pants down, and slides the tip of his dick in between my wet folds. His need outweighing his patience as he slides into me, babbling softly into my neck. “Ah, Love you feel s’good, S’tight. Mph, Goddess, you’re so wet f’me, so nice. Ngh…Oh lovie, that’s right innit? Just like that.” His soft voice in my ear, his lips on my neck, my eyes flutter closed as his cock hits at just the right spot inside me, thrusting with surprising accuracy as he continues to mumble incoherently. My own voice seems to have disappeared as all I can manage is a small moan, finding myself breathless as the normally timid Steven takes everything I have to give him.

“Mmm…Steven…you’re…Oh…” I couldn’t even form a sentence as Steven presses on.

“Shhh…Lemme take care of you love…let me…Oh gods, you’re perfect…” Steven mumbles as he grips my ass and thighs, his rhythm is off as he gets closer to his high, every thrust hitting deeper and harder. His whimpers and whines turn to grunts as I feel myself filled with his spend. Both of us softly panting as he comes down from his high.

“Oh…Darlin’ that was…you’re so good t’me…” Steven leaves a trail of kisses on my face as he carries me to the couch for a cuddle.

The dance Hall is mostly empty, it was a Tuesday night, but Jake was desperate to take me out since I was feeling better. Or at least I said I was. He had gone to get us drinks as I held down the fort at the table. I look around the room, searching, what for? I’m not sure, but I’m always searching. My eyes look quickly as someone approaches me, I feel my body tense, and then I realize it’s just Jake. He looks at me brows furrowed as he looked at my face.

“Qué pasa cariño?” Jake hands me my virgin cocktail, wrapping and arm around me, pulling me in to rest on his side. “Too soon for all this?”

“No…well maybe. It’s…a bit much. I don’t know.” I take a sip of my drink before resting my head on him.

“We can go, I don’t mind, whatever you want to do Hermosa…I just want to spend time with you.” Jake says softly as he gently squeezes me. He stands next to me as I think it over. I finish the drink and Grab my Jacket. He leads me out of the club and back to his car. He helps me into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt over me and clicking it into place before looking at me, his eyes still full of concern as he rubs his thumb across my face. Pulling out of the car and walking around to the driver’s side, I almost know what he’s thinking, he hasn’t acted the same since the day of the incident. He still sees me lying unconscious and bleeding out in his arms as he rushed me to the hospital, as he felt so overwhelmed that he couldn’t continue to front.

After driving for a while we end up pulling into an empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere. Jake turns off the car, I at him confused. He unbuckles and steps out of the car. I follow suit join him as he sits on the hood of the car. He sighs deeply before talking.

“I…I’m not very good with words. But. I can’t help but feel…like I failed you, Mi Vida…You are everything to me. I promised…I promised myself I’d never let you get hurt and… Te fallé.” Jake looks over at me and I watch as a single tear falls down his face “Puedes perdonarme querida?” I scoot closer and hold his face in my hands

“No hay nada que perdonar, mi amor” I say softly, I pull him in, leaving a soft kiss on his lips, I was about to pull away when he pulls me closer, one hand around my waist the other on the back of my neck as he kisses me, his lips capture mine as he moves to hold me in his arms, my chest pressed against his. Jake was in no rush to end this contact as he holds me close, but it wasn’t enough, it was like he wanted us to form into one person, he couldn’t hold me close enough. I lose track of our movements, I just feel the warm metal of the car on my back and his hand pulling at my tights. His finger pull my panties aside as he slides his fingers along my aching heat, his thick gloved fingers push in, his thumb rubbing my clit as his fingers scissor inside me, His mouth still on mine, silencing me as he is determined to right his wrongs. However possible, and preferably by making me cum on the hood of his car…Multiple times that night.

Translations:

Qué pasa cariño?: what's wrong darling

Te fallé.: I failed you

Puedes perdonarme querida: Can you forgive me dear?

No hay nada que perdonar mi amor: There is nothing to forgive my love

Masterlist

Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups

31 notes · View notes

friendlyneighbourhood-parker · 2 years

Text

Hot Sweet Cup

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader / Marc Spector x reader / Jake Lockley x reader

Summary: You have problems sleeping, Insomnia can sometimes be a bitch. But after the moon boys come home to find you sobbing they try to comfort you in the best way they know

Word Count: 3.4 k

Warnings: n/a

A/N: one of my biggest headcanons for the moonboys's system is that Jake loves hot chocolate so I wrote this!

the reader can be read as gender neutral but preciosa is a term mostly used for a feminine pressenting person and I couldn't find a gender neutral alternative

also If you want the translations for the Spanish parts I recomend you to go to AO3

It’s been years since your family moved to London and still the weather had a curious way of surprising you, the rain hitting the window was all you could hear inside the flat you shared with your partners, piles of books muffled the sound coming from the neighbours and you could smell the freshly made coffee from bed.

You looked to your side, on the table laid your favourite coffee mug with a sticky note on it

'Went to work, love you -Jake'

Of course it was Jake, he was the only one who knew where the coffee was hidden and would know exactly when to leave the mug on the bedside table so you could drink it from bed without it going cold even if Steven and Marc told him not to, yesterday you had trouble sleeping, it wasn't very uncommon for you to spend the night awake and even if Steven never really had a sleeping disorder you actually did.

insomnia, most of your childhood nights were spent with your mom drinking sleepy time tea and talking in the kitchen while your father slept upstairs but now you had nothing to do as your boyfriends spent their nights away 'working'.

They knew, of course they did but it didn't make them feel any less guilty when they came back home and found you wide awake. Throughout the years you developed new hobbies, ones you could do even at night without disrupting the people sleeping around you.

Knitting, crocheting, reading, drawing and baking where some of them and even if baking was one of your favourites you opted to wait until you were alone, not thrilled with the idea of accidentally waking someone up.

You’ve tried reading some of Steven's books before but in all honesty you prefer to hear him read it out loud with your head resting on his legs, laying there while one of his hands played with your hair. You could hear him talk or read you about ancient Egypt for hours until you would drift to sleep.

He didn't mind, always glad he could help you in any way.

Last night was no difference, you sat on the cold wooden floor, your back against the sofa while you read some of the books you brought when you moved in. it was late in the night when you heard the locked door opened, Marc coming through the door.

"Hi luv" you said when your eyes drifted to him

He noticed how tired you sounded and it pained him how your body still decided that sleeping wasn't an option.

"Come here baby" he helped you stand up "problem sleeping again?"

"Yeah, it's hard when you're not around" you cupped his cheek noticing the slight scratches on his face

The suit would heal them but tonight was a new moon and the little scars that shouldn’t be there at all remained still.

Marc asked how you spent your night, trying not to talk about the things that Konshu had them taken care of. You told him about the new cookie recipe that you found online and wanted to try, how in the midst of baking them you finished one of your books so you picked a new one and told him about the package you received in the afternoon with the new book that you had to review for work, he seemed almost as tired as you, trying to pay attention while his headmates talked into his ear, slowly starting to disassociate.

"It’s alright luv, you can relax" you placed your hand on top of his, closed your eyes and remained in silence for a bit.

"You still awake?" Steven asked a bit disoriented

"Unfortunately" you smiled and rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand "made you some cookies"

"Would you fancy some tea?" he asked you while standing up "we can have it with the cookies"

His movements were cautious and slow, you could sense just how tired he really was, probably running almost on the same amount of sleep as you.

"Yes please" he kissed your forehead and you yawned.

How late was it?? You checked your phone, it was hard adjusting to the sudden bright light, once your vision adjusted you saw how late really was ‘four am’

Bloody hell

It was almost time for them to go. Steven placed the kettle on the stove and went besides you to rub your back. Your elbows were on top of the table and your face rested on your hands enjoying the little backrub.

Marc had tried to make you tea before but every time he would end up tired of Steven nagging him about 'how bad he was at making it', the poor lad so stressed about Marc putting the mug with water and a tea bag directly into the microwave.

Of course he would still endure it if it meant he would see you smile at him when he handed you the mug. But after a long night of working for Konshu he wasn't thrilled to have Steven correcting every little mistake he made, granting him with control of the body for the rest of the night.

"Steven?"

"Yes luv?" he kissed the top of your head and you gave him a tired smile

"Can you stay with me?"

he knew what you meant and of course he knew it was pure banter, every morning you would beg for him to stay in and not go to work, just for you to feed Gus two and three while he was getting ready and then give him his set of keys with a kiss as he left for work. Your little routine made you happy and it gave him a reason to actually go to work.

You didn't want to admit it but sometimes it would get lonely in the mornings. Working in a publishing house was great, everything that you always dreamed of but there was so much joy you could have while reading manuscripts to write the little synopsis for the back or reviewing some of the new releases. It sometimes can get lonely.

"I'd love that darling" he smiled and poured you a cup of the tea "but tomorrow's a big one, can't miss it"

That’s right, after he joined a new museum and worked in the back for a while tomorrow was the first time he would actually work as a tour guide, you haven't seen him this happy since the day he got the actual job.

"I know you'll crush it" you leaned to kiss his cheek and took a sip of the tea

Steven poured himself a cup as well, he couldn't really stand the taste of coffee like his other two headmates. Every time he had coffee with you in the mornings he took it with an ungodly amount of sugar and milk, which would translate to his drinking tea habbits; Marc really couldn't bother, he preferred coffee over tea but wouldn't turn down a cup if either you or Steven had left one behind for him.

Jake on the other hand couldn't stand the taste of any tea. Only really drinking it if you were the one pouring him a cup, he'd endured the taste of sleepy time tea from time to time if it meant keeping you company in the nights where it seemed the only thing you wanted to do was talk after you finished patching him up. But what he actually loved was making hot chocolate, the aftertaste of cinnamon and the sweetness of the chocolate comforted him in a way he couldn't explain.

After finishing the tea Steven decided it was time to head over to bed, pulling you with him. You could feel Steven's body next to you, his warmth being enough for you to finally give in and fall asleep, never noticing when he turned to hug you and the light was never enough for him to notice the little smiled that formed on your face.

~☽☾ ~

"Hello luv, how's everything??" you cheered up when you heard your partner's voice through the phone

"Good morning Steven" he could hear the smile forming on your face

"Not quite luv, our bruv decided to take a quick break"

"Oh no, what happened??"

You still remembered the first time Jake imitated your boyfriend's accent, it was really spot on. That contagious laugh he only dared to let out around you kept interrupting him as he told you of the time he asked one of Steven's co-workers out, at that time they still hadn’t noticed his presence in the system and the poor lad was so confused when the girl reminded him of how greatly he talked about the steak from the restaurant they were supposedly meeting at.

"Nothing to worry about mi amor so calm down, Marc's taking care of it" there was his normal accent again, he tried his best to keep up the fake British one whenever he had to front at Steven's work.

Mark tried to do it once, when Steven forced him to front after getting really overwhelmed. Let’s just say an old lady got him in trouble because he was allegedly 'making fun of her'

"Couldn’t sleep more?"

"Not really, thanks for the coffee tho"

"You’re welcome preciosa" he smiled "I'll try to get home early today, because, you know what? yo también quiero dormir acurrucado contigo "

You laughed a bit "baby, you know I have no idea what you said"

"It means that I'm head over heels for you… all of us"

You knew that wasn't what he’d said but it didn't make the confession any less honest and it only made the heat rise all the way up to your cheeks turning them a lovely shade of red.

"I love you too"

"Good to know" you could hear him laughing from his side of the phone call "hey, would ya mind grabbing something for me? It’s on the kitchen table"

"Yeah sure" you crawled out of the bed carefully walking, trying not to bump into the piles of books laying around. There was a package laying on the table “Do you want me to stop by and drop you this?”

“No baby that’s for you”

“Really?”

“¿Me estás diciendo mentiroso? Just open it love” and as if it were more than a suggestion you followed his word, tearing the wrapping paper.

“Oh my days!” You saw the book you’ve been meaning to read for months but never actually found on stock, it was impossible for you to contain the little sounds of excitement and that only made Jake’s smile grow bigger and bigger

“Steven knew how much you wanted it, so we got it for you”

“Thank you!” you placed the book on the table and looked through the window “If you were here I would kiss you”

“I’m on my way amor” you laughed and rolled your eyes before hanging up.

There was a lot of waiting around before your boyfriends were back home and you knew how that time was about to be spent, enjoying the book laying on the bed.

~☽☾ ~

You looked through the window and saw the sun already setting, your felt your lip quivering as little hiccups fell from your lips, fuck this book was depressing. You’ve read great reviews online and the summary seemed pretty interesting, in no point was there mention of how hearth wrenching it could get. For the past half hour you’ve tried to keep your mind out of the story, trying to ground and comfort yourself but nothing seemed to work.

There was no use in knitting or drawing and even if you wanted to bake something you felt too bad to go out for the ingredients you were missing.

So you tried cooking.

Keyword, tried.

You’ve seen Jake making hot chocolate a docent times before so it shouldn’t be that hard, right? Or at least it wouldn’t be if you actually payed attention but your mind only could recall how good he looked on his T-shirt and underwear while cooking for you.

You took out a pot and placed it on the stove and then some of the chocolate that Jake often used from the cupboard, trying to recreate the sense of comfort that it would bring you but the smell wasn’t quite right and neither was the taste, the bitterness of the pure chocolate clung to your tongue. You couldn't even finish the mug you had served, rinsing it out and leaving it in the sink.

So that’s why you were back to reading the book when he walked in, you wanted nothing more but to be done with it already having only less than fifty pages to go. But when the light from the hall creeped in and he saw you sobbing on the couch wrapped in some blankets he couldn’t help but worry.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Marc’s hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears that rolled down

“It’s just…” you buried your head in the book and sobbed “I hate this”

He took the book from you and placed it on the coffee table before hugging you, he felt the way you trembled and clung to his clothes, some kissed were left on the top of your head as he rubbed it with love.

“Tell me what’s wrong?”

You tried, you tried to explain what about that book could be so upsetting and how even if it made your heart ache it was too good to put down.

“And then the chocolate” you leaned your back against the arm rest, cleaning away what was left from the tears laughing amused at your failed attempt.

His eyes fell into yours confused before you pointed to the pot still filled with the hideous chocolate that you made.

“Ay baby” He cupped your face his soft touch guiding you to look at him “Did you miss us?”

You nodded, you looked to the side, seeing the reason for your sadness. Your mind going directly to the story contained in those pages and new tears formed in your eyes.

“I want chocolate Marc” a whimper escaped from your lips and you leaned on his chest wanting to feel his warmth, he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

~☽☾ ~

"I can see..." both of you were on the kitchen, you sat on a stool while he stood in front of the stove, his hands on his hips as he inspected what was inside the pot "was it good?"

You shook your head. 'I can't believe that' he said before pouring himself a mug but once he drank it you saw how hard he tried not to frown, the unexpected bitterness from the drink being a little too strong. He poured the rest of the drink back to the pot.

He looked your way leaning on the counter.

"Ya ví por que" Jake looked at the mug and then back at you "did ya add sugar?"

You shook your head "the package said..."

"I know, but it usually isn't enough" he reached for the cupboard and took from it something wrapped in brown paper "this is called panela"

He cut a tiny piece of the brown triangle and gave it to you before adding a larger piece to the chocolate, you tried it and the sugariness of it made you smile. It was really sweet but not to the point of becoming disgusting and the taste was different from regular sugar.

"Can you reach for the spices?" he pointed at the rack to your left. It was filled to the brim, something he was really proud of as he gave himself the task of slowly gathering them "there's cinnamon sticks there"

"Need one or two" you looked at him, he noticed how your mood was improving already and it made him smiled

“I think we'll only use one" he looked at the pot and then back at you "it is small after all"

he poured a bit of water to it and you walked up to him, he backed down for you to reach the mixture and you thought he would stay there but then you felt him pressed on your back, his chin resting on your shoulder and guiding your hand on top the pot, near enough for it not to splash once you dropped the stick but not too close for the heat to burn you.

You could feel the little kisses he placed on your shoulder before backing once more, and you longed to have him that close just for a little longer.

"Do I grab the oat milk?" you pointed to the fridge and you saw him smile shaking his head while he continued to stir the pot

On a normal day he would make enough for Marc, himself and you, going to the extent of using that ‘God forsaken awful’ milk that Steven had in his section of the fridge, just so that he would also have some of it to comfort him while fronting. ‘incluso personas sin sentido del gusto merecen probarlo’ he would say often.

"Not today, this one's just for you" he pinched your cheek making you giggle and unconsciously rubbed your face on your shoulder “That’s right peque. We don’t want more crying, alright? Or I’ll throw the book out the window”

You gasped

“Don’t you dare!” you slapped his arm jokingly gaining a laugh from him.

“Try me” he winked with a smirk plastered on his face and now you were the one to laugh.

“Oh I will Mr. Lockely” you cheekily smiled and continued stirring the chocolate “A special thanks for this” you took some with the spoon and tried it. You turned around to look at him, so excited for how good it tasted.

“I’ll have to start waking up earlier” the wicked smirk still plastered on his face. “Para hacerte chocolate en las mañanas”

“And rob me from Steven’s breakfast? No way!” you cleaned your hands with the cloth you hung from the oven and sat back down on the stool

“You can ask him for coffee then” he took a mug from the cabinet and poured the chocolate, placing it in front of you.

“It’s just banter! Please, not you two” you took a sip from the chocolate and closed your eyes.

“That’s what I thought” he leaned to kiss you

“A tad chuffed, aren’t we?” you teased

He sat across from the table and covered his mouth, you saw the way his eyebrows quirked up and his eyes close amused.

“oi!” he said and it was enough to get the reaction he wanted out of you. Your jaw dropped amused.

“You are insufferable” you rested your head on your hand squinting your eyes

“I know and yet you love me” he squinted back

“I do” you said without thinking, you’ve told him a million times before but no matter what he didn’t seem to get tired of hearing it “I truly do”

You were being honest and he knew that, he knew because of the way your shoulders were relaxed and you didn’t nib on your lip. He knew because you showed him in the way you were around him.

He loved the company you provided. How even if you didn’t like watching the games you would still sat beside him while reading one of the books that the publishing house sent you or how you would lay on the bed while he leaned on one of the bookshelves that acted as a wall, he was pleased listening to you talk about what he’d missed the days where he weren’t around.

Like the time Marc had snooze off while watching one of those really old movies he liked when he was supposed to be cuddling you. Or the time Steven spent all day prancing around the apartment while talking your ears off about ancient Egypt after they told him there was going to be interviews for a new tour guide and he was too nervous to mess it up.

He got the job, of course.

Because even before you started dating him, when you weren’t even friends, just two strangers under the same roof who loved the same people. You demeanour towards him was the same, full of unconditional affection.

“Vamos peque” he got up and patted your back “finish off so we can sleep”

“But I’m not tired” you finished what was left of the chocolate and left the mug in the sink

“Then we can just lay there for a while” he kissed your temple and guided you towards the shared bed after turning off the lights.

Walking in complete darkness was hard, more in a flat as messy as yours but you managed to make your way to the bed collapsing on it. Your back was against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. You always slept better besides him.

Peque - little one

preciosa - gorgeous/pretty

también quiero dormir acurrucado contigo - I also want to cuddle with you

Me estás diciendo mentiroso - are you calling me a liar?

Ya ví por que - I see why

‘incluso personas sin sentido del gusto merecen probarlo' - even people with bad taste deserve to try it

Para hacerte chocolate en las mañanas - Make you chocolate every morning

Vamos peque - let's go little one

#Jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight fandom #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector x reader #marvel #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight system #moon boys #oscar issac #Jake lockely fluff #slight hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #fluff fanfic

488 notes · View notes

ashes-writing-corner · 6 months

Text

I know, I know, I said I wasn't gonna write fanfiction in the month of November. I kinda lied.

Look season 2 of Moon Knight has been announced and I am a sucker for any and all things Oscar Isaac and the moon boys. That all being said, please enjoy this Jake Lockley and Steven Grant angst fest! If it gets enough likes/reblogs/comments, I'll do a part 2 with Marc. He was supposed to be in it but I ran out if time to write more.

TW: mention of the thought of self harm, somewhat accidental self harm, possible oocness, and probably very badly translated Spanish (yes, I used Google translate sue me....seriously don't I have nothing XD)

Perfect Little Punching Bag

Love.

Hate.

There was always such a fine line between them. Was love always so fickle? Was hate always so non linear? Not helping matters was that all too often, the two emotions blended in a painful mix for him.

It used to hurt. It used to hurt a lot…

At least Steven had been sold some kind of illusion that someone gave a rat's ass about him. Happiness based on a lie was no way to live, sure, but he had it. He believed someone cared about him, the person who was supposed to care for them the most.

The same person he was created to protect their body from: their own mother.

The two had their roles, and while they were close, they never actually met. Steven protected Marc Spector's heart, as in the center of the innermost feeling. Jake was created with no such blissful delusion. No. There was no comfort, no care for Jake Lockley. He was created to protect the physical body from all means of harm.

When Wendy screamed, he would hear without truly listening. When she whipped or beat him, he'd feel it without reacting. No. He could not, and would not, let her win. Although his young throat would burn with the urge to roar and fight back, at the time he knew he stood no chance. He would lay there in the aftermath, wide eyed, his back and everywhere else burning and welted. But she did not win.

She never won when it came to Jake. She did not see his tears. She wouldn't ever see them. And if she didn't, no one else surely would.

Where had he found his first blade again? Oh yes, he had taken it out of one of Marc's old pencil sharpeners. Jake had snagged the smallest screwdriver he could find so he could take it out. After every beating, every screaming session, when Jake felt strong enough again, he'd lift the rug in his alter's bedroom and carve another tally into the floor. Jake didn't know why he had kept track, there wasn't a point, but even now, he kept track of the many times he won, the times he cracked but never shattered. He had thought of using the blade several times on himself, but knew that would go against his purpose. Why cause more damage to a body he was supposed to defend? No, no…the floor was covered under that rug with evidence of his wrath.

Hate was an easy emotion. He was born in and from it, molded by it. If he felt it most of the time could he really call it hate? Hate at his abusive mother and enabling father. Hate at his alters for their closeness from which he was excluded. Hate at the world for molding him into this…this monster. He understood this was his lot in life, to be this hated and hateful monster, and for the longest time Jake never objected. It was his job in life and in the system. He knew his place.

But overtime, it began to slowly take its toll.

Jake was all too aware of the hole in his heart, if he could even call it that anymore. It was more than that now. A gaping, bloody maw that roared to be fed or else it would consume him. It was why he did what he did as brutally as he did it. Feed the maw, kill the pain inside. That was the deal. But no matter how much he did, or what he tried, it would come back with a vengeance eventually, angry at its suppression and hungry all over again. Longing consumed him, and icy loneliness gripped at his heart. It was bearable, but only to a certain extent. Again, it was his lot in life.

But then Marc met Layla, falling in love. Oh Jake hated him for that. Marc had the nerve, the gall, the AUDACITY to attempt to be happy while Jake rotted in the excess of HIS despair?! He could stand it when one of his alters was happy. He was okay with either Steven or Marc being happy but not both of them at the same time! How was that fair?! Even if Steven's happiness was built on illusion, he still HAD it. He felt a semblance of it, a taste of it.

But there was no such thing as that for Jake Lockley. Never. He wasn't created to be loved. He was never meant to BE happy. He was the monster Marc created for his own darker tendencies, a way for him to subdue his conscience to do his mercenary work.

Sometimes, Jake would think about trying to approach one of or maybe both of them. Jake would imagine it, talking himself up a bit, trying to think of what he would tell them, and hope that the two alters would find something in him worth accepting. But oh no Khonshu couldn't let that happen. The moon god poured poison in Jake's ear, which dripped slowly to the maw in his heart…

“Do you really think those two idiots care about you? If they did, wouldn't they have freed you in the Duat? Wouldn't they have added your heart to the scales to be weighed? Wouldn't they have gone back for you? You know exactly how they would react” Khonshu pointed out and would fill Jake's head with horrid illusions of their reactions.

Steven was always afraid of him, no matter what he tried. Marc was disgusted most of the time, and unsympathetic, like a cold and uncaring master kicking his dog. Well, a kicked dog could only take so much before lashing out, seeing enemies everywhere. The moon god had succeeded in turning Jake against the other two…

Or so he thought.

It was in a deep state of meditation that he was found. In the darkest corner of Marc Spector's mind was Jake Lockley's own personal hell, his domain. No longer in that damn sarcophagus, it was replaced with a dark room, a small closet more like, with tally marks all over the walls. Countless numbers of them. Jake couldn't keep track of them anymore.

Some ‘victories’ they were indeed.

Of the alters, it was Steven who found him first. Sweet Steven Grant with his damn heart of gold…why did it have to be him?! Sitting in that corner, wallowing in his despair, with the maw begging to be fed again. It was always so damn hungry now…

Steven looked at the wretched place, concern etched into his features. But he knew they both needed answers. Who the hell was this and what did they want? There was blood all over the floor and tally marks carved in all four walls from floor to ceiling. A shadow sat facing a corner, uncaring about the horror around him. A single light bulb on a string was the only light in that room and it was dull, fading. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Steven trembled as he approached the shadow in the corner.

“Hey…hey there, you okay?” He managed to speak out despite what he was looking at.

Jake let out something that sounded like a growl. “Salir…”. (Go away)

“I'm sorry wha-”.

“Get out…¡ahora!”. (Now!)

“Whoa! Whoa…whoa….okay! Someone is very protective of their space-”.

“Salir! No volveré a preguntar!” Jake found the small pencil sharpeners blade close by. (Get out, I won't ask again!)

Steven squinted trying to figure out what it was he was holding. “Okay first of all, English please, and second, I have no idea what that is but I'd appreciate it if you put it back. I didn't come here looking for a fight” he said, trying to keep his voice stable and somewhat gentle.

“Go away, Steven. This isn't where you belong…”.

“If I dare say it, you don't belong here either”.

Jake scoffed. “I'm a part of this too”.

“What do you-no! I meant you don't belong in here you big doofus!”.

He hardly gave any mind as he walked along the bloody floor to approach Jake, still facing the corner with the small blade in his hand. Steven felt this oddly familiar feeling with this shadow, this thing. He looked at all the tally marks, and gently brushed his hand against them.

“What are these?” Steven asked.

“Victories…” Jake answered, though he didn't dare look at him, not directly.

From his peripheral vision, however, he could see the man with a softer version of his own hardened face frown, his eyes soft with sadness, not fear. Why wasn't he afraid? Khonshu said he'd be afraid!

“Victories over what?” He asked, “cause from where I'm standing this doesn't look like victory”.

“Would you prefer if I said they were kills?” He asked in kind, keeping his tone dark, even if inside he was trembling.

The maw was quiet. Deathly so.

“No…no i think we can stick with victories for now” Steven answered and looked around nervously, unsure of what to say. He decided that skipping the limbo would probably be the best way to go.

“Are you a third one? Are you like me?” He asked.

“Podrías decirlo…” Jake replied bitterly, his hand clenching around the blade, not caring about its sharp sting. (You could say that)

Steven frowned. “I don't like the sound of that but I'm assuming that's a yes…and a very angry one. Hey…you don't have to stay here, you know that right?”.

Jake scoffed, attempting to ignore the pain in his palm. He wanted to turn the blade on Steven, to at least give him a taste of his pain. Maybe it would even piss Marc off enough to get his attention! Oh…wouldn't that be fun? Because as much as he despised and envied Steven, he absolutely hated Marc for his wretched existence. And hurting them both would feel amazing in the moment...

“This is where I belong” he answered simply.

“Who says?” Steven asked, “you don't deserve this. What's your name?”.

“It doesn't matter”.

“It matters to me, and it definitely matters to Marc-”.

Jake scoffed louder at that. “He doesn't care about me. He doesn't give a damn about me. Nadie hace…”. (No one does)

“That's not true! He just doesn't know about you! Look, if I can get us all here at the same time-”.

“Not on our life! It's bad enough you're here!”.

Steven frowned deeply at that, looking quite hurt. “You didn't want us to find you, didn't you? Why?”.

The look on the alter's face was bitter and angry. His eyes, one brown and the other a deep red, were sharp and could cut deeper than any knife. He looked so much like them and yet was so distinctively different. Something in him looked…tired. Tired and sad. Like all he wanted to do was rest.

Despite everything, deep down Jake didn't want to hurt either of them. Looking at Steven now, it made that long suppressed longing come back in small waves at first. Years of telling himself he didn't care about their approval, their “love”, came back to bite Jake in the face in the most vicious way.

He didn't hate his alters.

No, in fact, something in him loved them, which was why he still did what he was meant to do.

So no, hate wasn't what he felt.

To his surprise, Jake realized that he didn't hate them. What he felt was envy, a deep seated, rooted jealousy aimed at them. Sure there was some resentment there as well, but envy was definitely the stronger of the two. Since their excursion to the Duat, this envy had only grown, the roots taking a stronger deeper hold of Jake's heart. He was jealous of the bond they shared, even if it seemed out of whack in the beginning. When they all took down Harrow together, despite having done most of the work, he wasn't included in that victory. Since then, Jake had been a shadow on the outskirts of their peaceful life…

“A stress ball…”.

Steven looked confused. “What?”.

“You asked Marc if you were some kind of stress ball or something not too long ago…”.

Steven looked at him and squinted. “Wait…the Duat? You were there? Hold on a minute! Was that you in the other sarcophagus?! The one trying to get out?!”.

His nod hit Steven like a freight train. They had left him there. They abandoned him.

“I'm so sorry. If I'd known-”.

“Be lucky you were that. An emotional fucking stress ball. At least you were fed an illusion she cared about you”.

Steven's hurt turned right away to offense. “Excuse me?! You think I liked learning about that?! I feel like the truth-”.

“If you knew the truth you would've never survived-”.

“I survived just fine thanks! If there's something you wanna say then say-”.

With the utmost viciousness he could muster, Jake hissed back: “Te odio!”. (I hate you!)

Steven almost flinched back. He barely understood a lick of Spanish, but judging from the harshness of his tone and the anger on his face, it didn't take a genius to know what he meant. Not helping matters was the sadness in Jake's eyes. More than anger, more than bitterness or envy, he was just sad.

“I don't hate you” Steven told him, “even if you hate me” he put a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder.

Jake brushed it off, trying to keep his angry and hateful glare. Steven wasn't falling for it, as he again put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don't hate you” Steven repeated, “a little wigged out but…no, I don't hate you. I want to help you, and I know Marc does too-”.

“He. Doesn't. Care. He used me as his shield! I'm nothing to him! I'm just a…a punching bag. That's all I've ever been!” his voice broke, as his sadness took a hold, “just a perfect little stoic punching bag!”

It wasn't fair. It wasn't! He deserved to be loved, at least just a little. He deserved to have a life outside this hell his alter condemned him to. He'd do anything for it, to be more than just…well…this! He dropped the blade from his hand, hissing in pain as the cut was deeper than he thought it would be. It fell to the bloody floor with a soft clink and Steven was quick to kick it away before Jake could grab for it again. The softer alter hugged him tightly, the same one the moon god told Jake would be afraid of him, catching him entirely off guard.

“No more…none of that. It's gonna be okay. I'm here for you…I'm here” Steven hugged him tightly, a hand going through the others hair.

Jake clung to him like a man drowning, like Steven was his only support. Then it got worse: the tears came. Tears of anger, sadness, envy, and frustration, it was a horrid mess of emotions. Ones he didn't like feeling, ones the maw threatened to swallow him in. His body wracked with sobs as Steven hugged and comforted him.

“I'm so sorry…we never should've left you. We didn't-”.

“You didn't know, I know. I was…I was s-scared”.

Steven looked confused. “Scared? You?”.

“Something-something like that” he managed to say, “I just wanted…something. I-I don't know-”.

“It's alright. You don't need to tell us yet if you don't want to. I'm glad I found you” Steven parted from him briefly, “never did tell me your name”.

“Jake…my name's Jake”.

“Jake” Steven smiled warmly, “well…we gotta see about getting you and Marc in the same close headspace”.

Jake shook his head. “I can't. He won't…he'd never accept-”.

“None of that now. Look at me. I'm not a stress ball. You're not a punching bag. It's gonna be okay. We're a part of each other”.

The softness of his tone and his reassuring words tore down what was left of the wall around Jake Lockley's heart. A wall he'd been building since he formed in Marc Spector's mind, many were the times he wished he could take it down without fear of rejection.

“Don't be afraid. We'll talk to him” Steven assured him, “he's gotten a lot better at listening”.

His nerves were a bit fried but Jake nodded. “Alright…I trust you”.

He could only dare hope his trust wasn't misplaced…

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight fanfic #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort

19 notes · View notes

romanarose · 1 year

Text

You Are Not Alone

fem!Reader x The Moon Boys

Summary: After a halfhearted attempt, you check yourself into the hospital for a stay in the psychiatric unit, and as always, your boys are there to help you.

WARNINGS: Suicide attempt (not shown), self-harm (not shown just talked about), blood mentions, depression, bulimia, eating disorders, food mentions and eating is shown, some self-ableist language from Marc and reader (marc calling himself crazy, reader saying she didn't 'do' and eating disorder right). neither of these are correct, but sometimes mentally ill (including myself) have these thoughts. Marc is kinda anti-treatment. not like, completely but he's hesitant, got trauma from the duat. shitty medical professionals, so much fucking crying, sex jokes, dark humor, mentions of rough sex/ass eating in joking context. If I missed anything lmk.

a/n: In my head Marc is a secret Star Wars nerd and I only have one single piece of evidence for this, but it's my Marc Spector and he and I are the same so I'll make him however I want to

*******************

“Hey baby” Marc gently nudged you as you slept on his lap. “They got a room for you.”

You stir, forgetting for a moment where you were. The white room, bright lights and exam bed confused you until you remember. God, what time was it? How long had you been out? You remember falling asleep on Marc’s shoulder as the ER room you were in tried to find you a bed to stay in on your mandatory hold. You look up at Marc’s tired, sad face, and knew he must’ve moved you, staying up while you slept on him, and you felt the pang of guilt you had been feeling in different forms all month. Of course he was tired, dumbass, you woke him up at 1 am halfway through an half-hearted attempt at suicide.

The panic on his face was seared into the back of your head, as were his frantic rambling of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ ‘Show me everywhereyou hurt yourself’ and ‘Baby, why?’ That he didn’t really give you a chance to answer. You simply stood there crying as he took care of you, wrapping you up in a few bandages, a few more than probably necessarily, telling him you were sorry, over and over and over until Jake took Marc’s panicking body to hold you, steady you. Steven insisted on the hospital stay. They had all noticed you spiraling lately, and had tried to help; picking up your slack on the cleaning and cooking, dragging you outside to get air, showering you in affection, but it didn’t help, as much as you were grateful. Steven packed a bag as you silently continued crying as you laid on the bed. Your favorite squishmellow, lots of fuzzy socks since your feet get cold, baby Yoda pj bottoms (with the drawstring taken out), and Carrie by Stephan King, which he did not look at but was the first book he grabbed.

They had taken you into the ER, helping you filling out the paper worker and telling you how proud they were of you for coming to them for help, Steven a bit more frantic and rambling, and Marc quieter than usual but you couldn’t stop feeling bad. Were you just being dramatic? Over reacting? You had barely done anything, you could’ve just wrapped yourself up and stuck to long sleeves for a while. You thought about the first time you tried. Highschool, in the bathtub, listening to a P!nk album on the CD player. It didn’t work. You had just sat there, waiting… waiting… waiting… and it didn’t work. You hadn’t done enough. But by that point, you were just exhausted, too exhausted to make a second go of things. So you cleaned up, and walked out into the living room like nothing happened, and watched Community with your mom and brother. You had felt rather stupid then, as you did now.

“Baby?” Marc started, as you didn’t reply to him. “Are you…” he almost said ‘are you okay?’ but considering where you were, the answer was pretty obvious.

You get up, looking at the EMT’s, then back at Marc confused.

He clarified for you. “They have to take you in the ambulance, it’s just procedure”

“Oh… can you come with me?”

He looked at the EMT’s and got his answer brushing your messy hair down. “‘fraid not, honey. But we’ll be in first thing visiting hours okay?”

You are suddenly very nervous, very tired, and very overwhelmed. You want to be asleep in your own bed, with Marc holding you. “Marc” You mumble, turning into him. “I wanna go home”

You hear Jake’s calm, assured voice. “I know, bebita. But I think this is what you need right now. We’ll get you the help you need, you just need to rest for a bit, okay? We’ll call your work, take care of everything.” He sounded to sure, you trusted your Jake.

You nod, too tired to fight it “Okay”

Marc held your hand as you sat on the stretcher, feeling ridiculous, but you had convinced them you didn’t need to be restrained, thank god. When you got to the ambulance, one got in the drivers seat and the other took a few steps back to allow you a moment. Marc held your head, his beautiful brown eyes shining at you as he tried to smile and hold back tears. “It’s gonna be alright. Do whatever they need you to do here, and you’ll be out in a few days, a brand new start, okay”

“You’re gonna visit me, right?”

Marc looked a little broken when he heard that. “Baby, of course we’re gonna visit, we’d never leave you alone like this, ever”

“It’s just… when I went in college… no one visited me, the whole time…”

He cradled you close to his chest, the EMT motioning they needed to get going. “That was before. You have us now, and you’ll never be alone.”

But riding in the ambulance, checking into the bright hospital, having the sympathetic nurse checking you for weapons or other injuries… you hadn’t felt so alone in a long time.

Marc was not thrilled about Steven insisting on the hospital. He had never liked hospitals much, and after his time in the duat, the thoughts he had of psychiatric hospitals weren’t great. Steven had to tell him again and again, the duat was not in a real psych ward, real psych wards aren’t like that. ‘Frankly mate, I’m not entirely sure psych ward is politically correct anymore’. Marc insisted they were all you needed, he didn’t want to leave you alone, and he certainly didn’t think these people knew better about taking care of you than he did, and he told you as such when he visited.

“Places like this are meant for people a lot worse off than you.” He grumbled, holding you on the bed you in a room you thankfully got alone.

Idiota, that’s not what you’re suppuosed to say!

Marc, please, places like this can help a lot of people, at least allow her to try.

“I’m sorry” You mumble, still tired from the previous night, where they had woken you up to take a blood sample and you had fallen back asleep with the needle in your arm. You start crying again, something you had done on and off all day.

Marc quickly realized his mistake, holding you tighter and turning you to him. “No, no baby I don’t mean it like that, it’s not a bother, it’s just… these places are for crazy people, like me”

Your eyes widen at that, face drastically changing to serious. “Marc, stop that, you know I don’t like you talking about yourself like that” You may be a mess, but you will not stand for your precious boyfriend to call himself names. “You are not crazy”

Marc wouldn’t let up. “If they heard me talking to Jake and Steven, they’d throw me in a straight jacket and toss me on that empty bed” He smiled, trying to joke.

“No” You shake your head. “Don’t talk like that, I mean it. Other people might think that, but that’s because they don’t get it. I know you, and I know Jake and Steven, and none of you are crazy, so please stop saying that.” You pleaded with him.

His face softened, kissing you on the forehead. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

You nuzzle into his chest. “And straitjacket, Marc? What is this, American Horror Story: Asylum? I don’t think they use those anymore” But you’re smiling now.

“Of course, how silly of me.” He laid with you for a while, just to take you in. He missed you.

“It’s probably a good thing I’m here” You say quietly, and he looks at you again. “I’ve been thinking about doing it all day.”

When it was Steven’s turn, your favorite nurse printed out some free Star Wars coloring pages for you and Steven to color on.

“I feel like a child” You say, but you're secretly enjoying yourself.

“Healing your inner child, that’s what they say, innit?” Steven was very very carefully drawing Luke Skywalker on Dagobah.

“I don’t think it’s my inner child that needs healing, I think it’s my inner teen. I had a fun childhood, even if it was a bit crazy. I never really got to be a teen”

“Well love, if you want to be a crazy teenager, we can go drink vodka in a corn field if that will make you happy”

You laugh, remembering the stories your classmates would beguile you with on Monday mornings, wishing that was you. “Sounds good darling. I’ll call my friend next time we visit, she’ll be happy to let us live out my teenage dream on her farm.”

“Think she’ll let us have a quickie in her tractor?” Steven smiles cheekily at you.

“Steven!” You giggle, wondering if anyone heard you. “And the answer is gonna be no.” you lean to him over the table “but we don’t have to tell her”

Steven holds up his drawing "I'm making it for Marc, think he'll like it?"

You giggle, holding up yours "Oh my god baby, im making mine for Marc too!"

Jake laid on the bed with you, reading Carrie, she was just going batshit on the prom night. “Dios mio princessa” He checked the cover “This is what Steven packed you to read? You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Keep going!”

“I’ll bring you a new book tomorrow, something more appropriate” he grumbled, before finding the page again.

“Honey, most of my books are depressing YA John Green books, Steven King, or depressing adult books, none of them are fitting”

“The Handmaid’s Tale?”

“Literally about government sanctioned sex slaves”

“Count of Monte Christo?”

“Baby that books depressing as hell”

“The Fault in Our Stars?”

“Jake!” You laugh. “How can you even say that, I made you watch that movie with me!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “You know I feel asleep half way through”

“He dies in the end!”

“Can’t you just… read up until that part?”

You rest your head on Jake’s chest. “No, now read to me about the mass murder of a bunch of high schoolers to relax me”

You felt Jake chuckle, but he continued.

Due to covid regulations, visiting hours were shorter than usual, and they had to leave before diner time. “We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. Same time.” Marc swore.

“And you’ll call tonight?”

“Of course. Make sure to call the numbers we gave you, if you’re feeling up to it.” Marc had been put in charge of letting your mom, brother, Layla, and a few close friends know. Everyone, unfortunately, lived in different parts of the county, but they wanted to talk during your stay so he wrote down the phone numbers if you wanted to call.

“Thank you, baby“ But you stayed wrapped around his chest. You couldn’t help but feel you were disappointing him still by being in here.

“Love, we have to go, you call us any time you want to talk, okay?” Steven assured you.

Slowly, you pull off of them. “Okay.”

You get a phone from the nurse and call him as soon as the door closes. An The Office marathon was on ABC, so Jake turned the channel on the home TV to ABC. You didn’t talk, simply laying the phone beside you as you watched, knowing they were there “watching” with you.

“I think my psychiatrist thinks I’m lazy” You say the next day as Marc rubs your back.

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Baaaabbbeeeee don’t stop that”

Marc couldn’t help chuckle, continuing his back rub. “Okay, now continue”

“Well, the first morning here, it was like 9 when he woke me up and he said ‘you’re still asleep’ all judgy”

Frown deepening, Marc fought the urge to march up to the desk and cause a scene like a helicopter parent. “You got in there at, what, 4 am?”

You nod. “And he did it again this morning. I just said ‘Oh, I’m sorry, do I have somewhere to be?’”

Despite his annoyance with your psych, he laughed. “Good one, sweetheart”

You smile “not my best work. I’ll come up with something better in a few days and call back”

“I’ll help you brainstorm” Marc promised.

“We’ll get him good. Jake and Steven can help”

“Oooohhhh no. Jake’s version of help is murder, and Steven would emotionally devastate him so bad he’d never recover”

You laugh, and it feels good… You wait for a moment before speaking. “I’m diebetic”

He stops at that, and you whine, but it doesn’t work this time. He looks at you with worry. “What? Baby, sit up, please?”

You comply, sitting up to look at him, and you can help but feel like you messed up again. “I’m sorry”

“No” Marc moved in on the bed, taking you in for a comforting hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong”

“But I did” You start to cry, and jesus christ how much are you going to cry in these three days. “I got it because I eat too much-”

“No” Jake cuts in before you can finish. “You do not eat too much. Please, don’t go down this road, we just got you to a healthy place with food, please don’t undo all your progress”

You had put in a lot of work into recovering from your eating disorder, and you could tell they were worried this would make you spiral.

Still, you argue. “If I was better at having an eating disorder, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

Jake looked horrified. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It mean I ate too fucking much Jake, if I had more control, I wouldn’t have!” You scoot away from him, annoyed at yourself. “Did I have an eating disroder or did I just eat too much?”

“Amor, bulimia is an eating disorder” He spoke carefully, but you were too angry at yourself to let him in.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

A pregnant silence hangs in the air before you speak. “Get out.”

“No” Jake was firm.

“Go! I know you’re all mad at me anyway so just leave me here!”

His face softened, and you felt sick at his pity. “Mi vida… you think we’re mad at you?”

“Yes!” You all-but sob out.

Steven broke through. “Heavens, love, why would you ever think such a thing?”

“Because I woke you up and you guys need your sleep and I scared the shit out of Marc and now you have to deal with me and now you have to deal with a diabetic girlfriend and-”

Steven interrupted you with a hug that nearly knocked you over. He let you cry in his arms until you calmed down. “My darling, you scared all of us, but we’d rather be woken up every night than for you to have to deal with this alone, we swear. You aren’t a burdon, you aren’t a problem. I’m no doctor, I don’t know if your bulimia had an effect on your diabeties, but if it did, then that is a symptom of an illness you suffered for years.”

“My psych… he told me to lose 20 pounds and then sent me on my way…”

I’m going to fucking kill him

“Tell Jake he can’t kill him”

God dammit

“Darling” Steven pulled back to look at you. “It was not okay that he said that. He is a psychiatrist, not a dietitian or a nutritionist, and he is not your doctor. He shouldn’t say those things, especially given your history with eating disorders.”

“You don’t… you don’t think I need to lose weight?”

“No.” Marc said firmly. “We don’t. Let’s get you set up with a specialist and see what you need to do to manage this, but we’re not letting you fall back into bulimia if we can help it”

“Okay.” You flop back on the bed, becoming him to massage you again. ”I’m gonna have so many fucking appointments. A permanant psych” you glance up at Marc “One who isn’t that guy, and a therapist”

“That’s good, you’re getting the help you need.” Marc affirms.

You wait for a moment. “I thought… I thought you were against all this…”

Marc flops down on the bed beside you “Listen, I’m sorry if I was… unenthusatic. It’s hard for me to accept help, and sometimes I think I can just… if I love you enough and am there enough, I can fix everything”

Yo touch his pretty, stubbled face, you can tell he didn’t sleep much last night either. “You’re enough for me, enough for my love. My mind just needs a little extra help.”

“I just gotta… look at it different. The meds, the therapy, it’s not the enemy”

“It’s a sidekick” You smile at him.

He laughed. “Yeah, they can be or sidekick”

“I love you guys”

“And we love you”

You squeal, jumping into Jake’s arms as he came to pick you up the next day. “Jakey!!!”

He grinned at you, scooping you up. “Hola, muneca, como estas?”

“Bien!” You kiss him as he sets you down. “Y tu?”

“Bien, ahora que estoy contigo. Now, do you have everything?”

You open your backpack to double check. “Discharge papers, safety plan, prescription, appointments, doctors notes for work, grippy socks I get to keep, yup all here!”

Jake smiled, you seemed to be doing better. “And you finished the book?”

After the Carrie fiasco, Jake stopped by Barnes and Noble and picked up a copy of Jurassic Park for you too read.

“Yes! Can we watch Jurassic Park when we get home?”

Jake knew this would happen. You’d want to watch Jurassic Park. Again. You always made him put it on when you were drunk. On the plus side, Dr. Alan Grant would inevitably make you insanely horny.

“Of course we can. AFTER, we safety proof the apartment”

You groan, loudly. “We don’t actually have to do all that”

“We most definitely do.” Marc had been there with your social worker, promised to de-suicide the apartment, as you called it. No one thought you were funny. “No ropes-”

“How will you tie me up?”

“No razors-”

“How will I shave my asshole for you?”

“No belts-”

“But what will you whip me with”

“No- Cielos! I never whipped you!”

“Not for my lack of trying” You wink.

“Hostia, what am I going to do with you?”

You take his hand as you walk, Jake carrying your backpack. “Fuck me right and make me food”

“And drive you to therapy” He teases you, giving your hand a squeeze.

You nudge him “I was born to sit pretty in the passenger seat”

Jake gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “And sit pretty you do”

You wave to your favorite nurse. “Bye, see you next time!”

The nurse was not thrilled.

Marc kissed rought your hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “There’s my girl” Your hands were dry. You must not have gotten any lotion. You giggle, swinging his hand while you walked. “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

You turn to look at him, smiling softly. “I am, actually. Not perfect, but I think the break is what I needed.”

“How are the new meds?”

You shrug “Probably won't be able to tell for a while, on the anti-depressants. The anti-anxiety is great, haven't felt this relaxed in ages.”

“What was the other one?”

“Mood stabilizer. We’ll have to see on that one too.”

“Hm.” Marc opened the door for you, before letting Jake take over, since Marc hated driving.

You sit one the couch, eating your Taco Bell and drinking your McDonalds iced coffee. God you missed iced coffee. Jake grumbled the whole time at Taco Bell. He must really love you if he said the words “One mexican pizza, one crunch wrap supreme, and a baja blast, please” without dry heaving, and paid for it too.

“Missed one” You point at a belt thrown in the corner of the studio apartment, taking a massive bite of your mexican pizza.

“This would be a lot easier if you put your clothes away” Marc said, with no real malice.

You take a big ole sip of your iced coffee. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t undress me and bend me over every surface of the apartment”

“How can you wash down fake mexican food with iced coffee? That’s disgusting”

“How can you eat my ass, that’s disgusting”

Marc paused, holding the belt he was gathering. He turned to you with a rare, wide grin on his mouth, lips curled up a bit. “God I’ve missed you”

You talk with your mouth full. “I’ve been gone three days”

“No… I mean…” He looked a little sad. “You’ve been here but not… here. God that doesn’t make sense.” Steven took over, better with words. “You were different. Like you had mentally checked out, were just going through the motions. We were really worried about you, darling.”

You put down your Mexican pizza, fighting the urge to take another giant bite but knowing this isn’t the time.

“I’m sorry”

Steven set down the items, and joined you on the couch. He was going to take your hand, but you were double fisting a baja blast and iced coffee. “Don’t be sorry. We’re not going to make you promise to come to us if you are feeling down, I know it can be hard just… just know we’d rather be woken up before you hurt yourself, okay? We’re always here for you. You aren't alone anymore.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I know baby, I’ll try.”

Steven rested his head on yours and closed his eyes, taking in a peaceful, quiet moment for you.

Well, quiet until he heard the loud slurp of you finishing your pop.

***************

A/N: I was hositalized summer of 2020. It was voluntary, and I didn't attempt yet. It had been a hard time as it was for everyone, im not special. I moved out of my grandparents basement and a week later lost both jobs to covid. My friend had already suggested I make a go bag (she had been hospitalized before). I got into a fight with my sister over BLM and her shit ass boyfriend, and that was the last straw. For various reasons, no one visited me in the hospital. My parents lived in another state (not that my dad would come anyway) my aunt who lived in town thought that visits were closed due to covid, and my grandparents in town absolutely could not leave the house since this was prevaccine. I texted my aunt to please let my mom know where i was going as I drove over there. she emmidetly called me and said she was on her way, and helped me check in. She picked me up when I got out and had me stay with her family for a few days to keep an extra eye out.

My uncle and little cousins all were so nice and sweet sharing their space, mom came and visited, as did my other aunt (my dad, interestingly, did not). At the psych ward i called a childhood bestie whose number i have memorized, and when i got out, another friend called me as soon as she heard. Had a lot of love an d support many don't have. but none of that is going to take away how lonely I felt in the psych ward. So i just wanted to write something to redue that expiernce.

Also, all the stuff the psych said to the reader in this, my psych said to me. yeah, just told me to lose 20 pounds and acted like i was wierd for sleepin in past 9. i deadass did ask him if i had somewhere to be. like wtf.

anyway, self indulgent as always. Hope you enjoy anyway.

taggging the usuals.

@howaboutcastiel @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @welcometostayingawake @in-between-the-cafes @lucianadraven32 @ninebluehearts @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley

#marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector reader #jake lockley reader #steven grant reader #angst #hurt comfort #Jake lockley hurt comfort #marc spector hurt comfort #steven grant hurt comfort

120 notes · View notes

ninebluehearts · 2 years

Note

Hello friend! Things have been less than fergalicous these days it seems 🫡

Could I maybe get some hurt comfort with any of the moon boys? Maybe with reader dealing with nightmares or recovery from SA, or mentions of parental abuse, whatever you feel comfortable writing. I just want to feel safe with my babies 🥺

Hello, my darling! I hope I can create something comforting without triggering something bad. I'm so sorry to hear that you've been going through stuff lately. Just know that you'll always come out stronger in the end 💕

(I'm also very sorry it took me so long to write this 😭)

Tw: Nightmares and hints of parental abuse (if you squint, really)

Secrets between you and the boys could only be hidden for so long. They knew you and you knew them all too well. So, as the dark purple bags under your eyes became more prominent as time went on, the boys suspicion only grew.

Steven began asking how you were doing more often (even though he must've already been asking at least once an hour before). And every time you tell him, "I'm fine! Why do you ask?"

So, he would shrug and drop it, giving you a kiss on your forehead before going back to whatever he was doing.

Now, Jake was a bit more up front, but in the nicest way he could be. He had prepared a bath for the both of you; once inside, he began massaging your shoulders and neck. And once he thought you were relaxed enough, that's when the questioning began.

"What's going on with you lately, Mariposa?"

"Hmm?" You'd hum in response, your eyes trying their best to stay open, but never succeeding.

"I don't think you've been sleeping.. Why not?"

"I have, darling. I'm fine-"

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise, so do not say you're fine. Why won't you just talk to me? To us?" Jake had rested his hand on your shoulder, trying his damndest to get you to talk to him, but you wouldn't budge.

"I said I'm fine." You had ground out as tears pricked your eyes, causing you to tug your lip between your teeth; the pain always gave you something else to focus on.

"Y/n, you're not fine, mi amor-"

"And what would you know? You're never even here half of the time!" As you pulled yourself out of the bathtub, you reached over and grabbed your robe from the rack, draping it over your shoulders as you stormed out of the room.

"Y/n!" Jake had called out. He never knew how to handle situations like this, as he was usually watching from the back of the head space. All he could do was sit there and stare at the wall, feeling helpless as you locked yourself in the bedroom, another wave of tears wracking through your body.

Marc had enough of this. All four of you were miserable and upset. He was determined to get to the bottom of this, even if it took all night.

As you laid there sleeping, Marc sat against the headboard watching you. Every breath you took, every twitch of your eyes, every twist and turn, he saw and kept track of. Though his eyes burned and his body ached, he continued to study your sleep patterns, thankfully having Steven and Jake to keep him company.

'That was the fifteenth time she's scrunched her nose in the last two hours.. is that normal?'

'Might just be allergies, mate.'

'Might not be. You can never be so sure.'

'And what do you want him to do? Force a benadryl down her throat and call it a day? Bloody hell, I'm sure it's fine. I'm more worried about the inconsistencies with R E M. She's been in and out quite a bit, don't ya think?'

"Will you guys chill out? I'm sure she's fine. Everything's fine so far." Marc whispered to his alters.

Not too long after, you began mumbling in your sleep. Your breathing picked up as your face twisted into an expression of pure panic.

'I think it's time to wake her up now Marc!' Steven tried to force his way to the front, but Marc resisted.

"Not yet.." He whispered.

'I think Steven's right, hermano..' Jake tried, a sense of urgency in his tone.

"I said not yet-"

Your eyes shot open, a loud sob escaped your lips before you could even attempt to hold it in. Without looking back, you shot out of bed, hurrying towards the bathroom before pushing the door shut.

Marc ran after you, gently knocking on the door. "Y/n? It's Marc.. Can I come in? Please?"

"No! Go away!"

Marc's eyebrows knit together in confusion; you've never yelled at any of them like that before. He reached down and jiggled the knob, only to realize it was unlocked. "I'm coming in, honey." But when Marc opened the door, he was met with you standing on the other side, tears streaming down your face.

"Marc?" You whispered, reality set in that you were home and with Marc, not at your old home with.. them.

"It's me, baby. Come here." Marc held both of his arms open for you, wrapping them as thigh as he could around your waist when you quickly rushed into them. "I've got you. Shh, you're alright." Marc grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled them up onto his hips, carrying you over to the couch.

He sat down against the arm, keeping you as close as possible as he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of you. Marc gently rubbed your back, his head laying on top of yours, which was laid on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, wiping the tears from your eyes and Marc's shoulder.

Marc's eyebrows knit together with confusion. "For what?"

"Just- I don't know. For being a mess, I guess? Soaking you with my tears?" You let out a little laugh, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweater.

"Hey, hey, no. You're not allowed to apologize for any of that, you hear me? You are so beautiful and perfect, y/n. I'm your husband for Christs sake, I'm blessed to be covered in your tears." Both you and Marc laughed at that, a fresh pair of tears dripping down your cheeks from Marc's sweet words.

"Where did you come from, Marc Spector?" You whispered, breathing out a heavy sigh.

"A similar place as you, I'm afraid. But that's why we work, darling. We understand and support each other." Marc reached out and wiped your tears away once again, this time pulling you close to kiss your nose.

"I love you." You whispered, pressing your forehead against his.

"I love you too." Marc whispered back, both of you closing your eyes to enjoy the moment together. If anybody could understand where you were coming from, it was Marc Spector. And he fully planned on supporting you with all of the love he had to give.

Taglist: @hot-mess-express1

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight imagine #steven grant x reader #thanks for the ask!#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #moonboys x female reader #moon knight fanfic #oscar issac #oscar isaac characters #oscar issac hernandez estrada #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #steven with a v #moonknight hurt/comfort

232 notes · View notes

loki-hargreeves · 11 months

Text

Okay so I was building the mk apartment in the sims and I had to build that bathroom. Then I decided to renovate it to how I picture it in fics. Because my mind refuses to accept Steven doesn't actually have a bathtub

I didn't want to change absolutely everything... but I kinda did

I think they deserve a bathtub and Steven deserves to be able to read in the bathtub.

And a sink in the bathroom would be nice

this bathroom does not exist in my fanfic imagination but it's a vibe

#can we pls talk about Steven's bathroom tho?#the slippers 😭#I wonder if the floor is cold #sure it's a set #but like a girl can THINK #I need a bathtub in that apartment for the hurt/comfort and the smut #moon knight #Steven Grant #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #sims 4 #sims

55 notes · View notes

bensolosbluesaber · 2 years

Text

Someone Like You: Part 2 (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x Avengers f!reader)

Summary: Sure, you might have escaped with everyone alive, but the aftermath of using your powers is less than pleasant. And why is Marc Spector the one taking care of you? ~3,500 words (Part 1)

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Primarily Marc Spector x f!reader, Jake Lockley x f!reader, Steven Grant x f!reader

Warnings: DID mentions and lots of them, canon typical violence, blood and injuries, mentions of childhood trauma/abuse, disassociation and nightmares, not edited very well

Bruce passes Marc a glass of water, and he takes it in a shaky hand. The two men could be considered friends. Bruce could sympathize with Marc’s trauma - the little that Marc had shared, and Bruce understood DID in a way that none of the other Avengers could. Marc gives Bruce a tight smile then turns to Nat who has been explaining the situation.

“You sent her into my head,” Marc interrupts accusingly.

“It’s what had to be done,” Nat answers simply. Her tone leaves no room for argument.

Marc glares for a long moment then nods slowly. She is right. He doesn’t like it, but it’s true. Getting out had been nearly impossible even with your help.

“Ask if she’s alright,” Steven insists from the head space.

Marc’s hand tenses around the glass.

“Where is she?” He says instead.

Nat glances back at the other Avengers. Sam tilts his head, pondering something, and then nods. Bucky huffs with displeasure but doesn’t argue. All of the others already know about what you unaffectionately call the aftershocks.

“She’s dealing with the aftermath of a mind walk,” Nat explains.

“Which is?” Marc asks before Steven can butt in and do it himself.

Nat looks to Bruce for a more scientific explanation.

“It’ll be worse because she just mind walked yesterday,” Sam adds. “Sometimes we sit with her. Most times she wants left alone.”

“Her consciousness was inside yours, right? But at the same time, your consciousness was seeping into hers. Think of it like a sponge in a bucket of water. She’s the sponge. You’re the water,” Bruce explains. He was the one who had initially studied your brain to figure out what caused such dramatic aftershocks. His words are scientific and detached, not for lack of empathy but for excess of it. “Your consciousness needs to work out of hers. The sponge being squeezed. Unfortunately, she can’t really control it. She’ll see the worst memories of the person she mind walked into. They play through her head for a few hours like nightmares. Sometimes more of a dissociation. It’s... difficult.”

But Marc wasn’t listening anymore.

“She’s seeing my worst memories?” He whispers.

“Marc, this isn’t fun for her. She wasn’t trying to invade your privacy,” Natasha says, misinterpreting Marc’s concern as being for himself.

“She is seeing my worst memories?”

“Yes, but she-“

“Is someone with her? Right now, who is with her?” Marc jumps out of bed, ignoring Bruce’s protest.

“She wanted to be alone,” Bucky replies.

“You let her be alone!? While she is seeing my worst memories? Fuck!” Marc glares at him, and pushes past everyone and out of the room without another word.

He hurries down the hallway, the others close behind and calling after him until he busts through the door to the room he knows is yours.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky breathes when he sees you.

But it is Marc who is at your side first. Your eyes are wide and clouded and staring blankly at the door in complete disassociation. The chill of the room makes your skin prickle with goosebumps, and the occasional shiver runs across your otherwise still body. Disturbingly still. Your cheeks are wet with tears that are still flowing freely, and that’s unnerving in it’s own way. Your face is emotionless and empty, and yet you are openly crying.

Normally you would wrap yourself in a heavy blanket and hug some sort of stuffed animal. You would make sure your eyes were shut. You would find a comfortable position. You’ve done none of those things, so the Avengers know the aftershocks must have come over you suddenly.

Marc kneels beside your bed and smooths a rough hand over your cheek. No response. He thumbs a tear away, and looks back at the others. His brown eyes are wide and worried.

“I’ll stay,” Sam offers. “Buck did it last time.”

“I will.”

The four other Avengers all turn to Marc at the some time. They are not even bothering to hide their shock.

“You hate her?” Bucky states, although it’s more of a question.

“No he doesn’t.” Nat lets a small smile tug at her lips as Marc’s actions confirm what she has suspected for a long time.

“No, I don’t,” Marc confirms. “I’ve got her. My fucked up mind, my responsibility.”

“If you sit in bed with her, she can sort of sense a presence. If she feels safe, she might hold your hand. It’s not because she’s awake, just some subconscious thing,” Nat explains.

“Make sure she’s warm,” Sam adds and fixes Marc with a firm stare.

Nat guides the others out of room, giving Marc a last little sad grin on the way out. The door clicks shut.

Marc can’t tear his eyes away from you. You’d gone into his head, knowing this would happen, knowing that you’d see the worst parts of his life. None of the Avengers knew much about him, but they knew about his DID. You were smart enough to know what type of traumas caused that condition, the things you might see.

And you had been worried about him feeling violated.

A shiver makes you curl in on yourself, eyes sliding shut as you whimper so softly Marc barely hears.

“Get in the bed,” Jake mutters, and even his words are tinged with concern. “We’re warm.”

Marc looks down, realizing for the first time that someone had changed him into sweats and a t shirt. He hesitates for only a second before grabbing a blanket and sitting beside you. He leaves a few inches of space between your bodies and carefully drapes the blanket over you.

Your shivers diminish but don’t subside entirely as you grasp the blanket and draw it closer. Marc whispers your name, thinking you might be awake. No response. He stretches his legs out and watches while he takes calming breathes, not wanting to force Steven or Jake to the front unexpectedly.

What are you seeing now? What terror of his past are you being subjected to?

The cave is damp and cold, and even as the memory guides you into the cramped space after two little boys, you know what is going to happen. The water is icy cold as it rises around your feet, getting higher and higher as the screams get louder and echo back on themselves in an overwhelming cacophony of sound.

You want to scream, to escape, but you are as trapped and helpless as the boys, as Marc.

A warmth fills the space next to you. It’s unexpected and a sharp contrast to the cold water. It feels calmer, and part of your mind realizes it’s something in the real world even if you aren’t consciously aware of that fact. After a long pause you reach for the warmth, gravitating to the comforting feeling of the presence even as your mind pulls you violently into another memory.

Marc startles as your head falls on his thigh. A moment later your arm wraps around his waist. Without thinking, he smooths a hand over your hair and secures the blanket around your shoulders. He looks down at your face that is turned toward him, eyes shut, but there is no recognition of where you are or who you are with.

“Now you have to tell her we like her,” Steven tries to cut Marc’s nervous tension with some humor.

“Oh, it’s ‘we’ now?” Jake joins in on the gentle ribbing. “I didn’t realize I was pining uselessly too.”

Marc can find no humor as he feels your tears soaking through his pants.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he replies into the head space, using a harsh tone that silences the other alters. “She’s seen in our head. No one in their right mind wants within five feet of that mess.”

Marc tilts his head back and slams his eyes shut as he draws in a trembling breath. His throat hurts with the effort of holding back tears. He never wanted you to see these terrible parts of himself, so he had avoided you despite his attraction. All that time pretending to hate you had amounted to nothing.

Every so often you whimper and cuddle closer, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh and pressing your forehead against his stomach. You should have left him there in that prison of his own mind. If you had, you wouldn’t be suffering like this now.

Your skin is soft under his touch as he runs his fingers over your bare arm. He holds you like that for hours, sometime fixing the blanket. It’s not moving, but he does it anyway as a sort of nervous tick.

“Marc,” Steven interrupts that series of self-destructive thoughts with a gentle voice. “Easy, mate. You’re pulling me forward.”

“Sorry,” Marc apologizes quickly and swipes at his cheeks. Now he was crying too.

“S’okay,” Steven replies. “You shouldn’t think stuff like that though.”

Right as Marc is forming a reply, you jerk awake and pull back from whoever it is you’re laying on. Bucky, probably. He’s always warm and comforting.

After a long moment of composing yourself, you drop your hands to look up at Bucky.

Instantly you bury your face in your hands, swiping tears from your cheeks as your mind reels from the memories you had just witnessed. Over the years, you had become quite adept at not giving people ‘that look’ - the pitying and condescending look people give others after hearing about their past. But how the hell were you going to look at Marc now?

It’s not Bucky. No, it’s not Bucky at all. It’s Marc. You are stunned into silence for a few seconds, and the only emotion on your face has to be shock because Marc Spector - who hated you more than anyone ever had - just sat with you through your aftershocks. Marc Spector had let you cuddle up against him.

You draw the blanket closer. It is freezing in the room.

“I won’t tell anyone,” you assure him quickly in a voice tinged with sadness. That must be why he is here. Nat or maybe Bruce explained everything, and he’s afraid that you will tell the other Avengers about his past.

“I didn’t mean to see all that,” you continue when he says nothing. “I can’t help them, I swear. But I don’t tell people what I see in the aftershocks… ever. So, uh,” you stumble over your words as he continues to stare at you. “You don’t ever have to hear from me again. You can go.”

When he doesn’t, you turn and roll out of bed. Your bed. Your bed that Marc is in. The second you go to stand your knees buckle, and you crash to the ground

Now you’ve seen the worst parts of Marc’s life - of the system’s life - laid bare in front of you, and your emotions that should be numb to such things are as sensitive as exposed nerves. You are barely holding yourself together, and you certainly aren’t stable enough to maintain an authoritative tone to get control of this situation. Instead you are stumbling over your words and practically begging Marc to go.

Before you can register the pain of the fall, Marc jumps out of bed and is holding you around the waist and pulling you up. You grasp his shirt and in a wildly self-destructive moment press your head into the curve of his neck, breathing in his scent, letting his warmth calm you until you are steady enough to step back on your own.

“You’re cold,” you mutter, noting the goosebumps on his skin again. You pass your blanket over to him. “Here.”

He could never deserve someone like you. You can barely stand, are clearly on the verge of tears, and definitely cold yourself, and yet you are giving him your blanket without a second thought. You are worrying about what he needs instead of taking care of yourself. You’re too good for him.

“Stop that,” Jake growls from far back in the head space. “Help her if you’re so worried.”

“Easy on him, Jake.” Steven agrees with Jake, but he would have said it in a nicer way.

“What do you do now?” Marc still has his hands out in case you fall again, one holding the blanket.

“Eat. Drink water. Go back to bed,” you murmur and walk slowly past the attractive man without looking up. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Marc. You don’t have to be nice. This isn’t blackmail.”

He follows you all the way to the kitchen, abandoning the blanket on the bed. Marc stands with his arms crossed while he watches you dig through the fridge. Eventually you produce a Tupperware of soup (Thor has been experimenting with cooking since becoming a father) and pop it into the microwave.

Five seconds. That’s all the time you give yourself to school your expression into something that doesn’t reek of pity and turn to look at Marc. Three. Two. You watch the green lights tick down the seconds. One.

Marc speaks first, which is good because you had no idea what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

A beat. People didn’t usually acknowledge what you might have seen. On the rare occasions you mind walked into someone you knew, both of you pretended the aftershocks never happened. This acknowledgment is… refreshing.

“I’m sorry you had to live it.”

Marc takes a glass from the cabinet and fills it with water. He hands it to you then gets his own. Steven and Jake have gone, leaving him alone with you as you watch the microwave work and drink your water.

“Thanks for coming in after me,” he finally says. That’s the best way he knows how to concede that you were right about them needing help. “You knew the after-whatever would happen, and you did it anyway. So… thanks.”

The microwave beeps and you take out the soup.

“Aftershocks,” you correct.

“Pedantic-” He hesitates, meaning to make a joke but remembering his earlier use of the same word.

“Bitch?” You offer, a bit sadly. The insult still stings because you still like him. He’s an ass, but you still like him.

He looks down, suitably chastised, and even though you think he deserves it, you can’t help but feel a little bit bad. And confused. You aren’t sure what is going on, just that this is the longest real life conversation you have ever had with any part of the Moon Knight system. That and you’d woken up cuddling with Marc, who apparently your subconscious considered safe enough to cuddle with.

You can feels his eyes on you as you scarf down the whole container. Thor really had gotten good at cooking. The empty container gets abandoned in the sink. You’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Right now you have a round of nightmares to work through. That was the last part of the aftershocks- besides the days of exhaustion. Technically the nightmares weren’t caused by your powers. It was just the brain’s natural response to seeing traumatic events, part of your mind processing the aftershocks into your memory. Sometimes you didn’t even have nightmares. Sometimes they lasted for days.

You had a sickening feeling you had quite a few restless nights coming.

“’Night Marc.” You raise your glass to him in a mock salute, trying to ignore how good he looks in the moon’s glow, the only source of light in the kitchen.

“Wait!”

You’re already to your room, and you freeze, hand on the door, and turn to see him running down the hall.

“What did you see?” He stops right in front of you.

“Marc, I-” What can you possibly say that will convince him you won’t tell anyone? You don’t want his fake niceties or insincere gratitude. You don’t want him living in fear that you’ll out his traumatic childhood.

You look down and away from those big sad brown eyes. Then his hand settles hesitantly on your cheek and turns your head up.

“I don’t care if you tell people,” he starts, and his gaze captures your own. “I care if you’re alright, and if you saw even half of my worst memories then you’re not. You were in my head, and it’s a fucking mess in there. My mind is broken.”

He says the final word just as you whisper, “Beautiful.”

“What?” It’s raw confusion in his voice as he drops his hand and genuinely believes he misheard you.

“Your mind is beautiful.” You swallow hard, still holding that eye contact that makes you feel naked. “Whoever told you otherwise is wrong.”

There’s a brief moment where Marc’s cynicism wants to control his reaction, but as he studies your face, he can find no lie. His mouth moves, but no words come out.

“I’ve been in a lot of minds,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous, almost like you’re about to confess your feelings to a crush. “I’ve never seen any as elaborate as yours. Most people are just empty voids with some strange and inefficient filing system, but yours was like a whole world.” The words are coming faster now, and you can’t stop them. “And you’re strong. I always have control on my mind walks. I don’t get hurt, but I was bleeding. I had no control” Maybe you are doing the superhero equivalent of confessing feelings. “Your mind is incredible, Marc, and I’m so sorry for the things you went through that made it that way. But it’s not broken for creating what and who you needed to survive-”

Marc’s lips are warm. His lips are warm, and you know that because he is kissing you, cutting off your awestruck confession with a kiss so passionate you forget how to breathe. He covers your whole mouth with his, slipping his tongue into the kiss in a way that you would consider disgusting if it were anyone else. One of his rough hands is on your cheek, the other cages the back of your head, keeping you close and creating a barrier between your skull and the wall Marc pushes you into.

His whole body presses against you, and only then do you realize you’ve been kissing him back with just as much passion as he’s giving you.

When he finally pulls away, it’s only because even superheroes need to breathe. Marc’s forehead falls against yours as he takes an unsteady breath. Then another. His fingers are drawing small circles against your skin, a motion he doesn’t notice.

You look at his face- the red flush of his cheeks in the dim light, the small part of his lips, the broad swath of his nose that bumps against your own, those beautiful wide brown eyes that you want to melt into.

A potential love interest. That’s what Steven had said, and now you have time to really consider the implications of a comment you had been too busy to deal with earlier.

“Marc Spector,” you whisper his name like you’re saying a prayer. “You pretended to hate me to protect me from seeing inside your head, but all this time… all this time you had feelings?”

Marc feels the self-doubt creeping in.

“I’m gonna tell you right now, hermano,” Jake can hear Marc’s thoughts, knows what he’s about to say. “You say a thing about not being good enough for her, and I’m going to take the body and put our head through that wall.”

“Bloody hell, Jake! Don’t do- never mind. Alright look, Marc, it’s not up to us to decide if we’re good enough for her, it’s up to her. She clearly likes you, so… you know... keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Marc?” You bring your hands to his face. He has a shadow of stubble that is rough to the touch.

“Bruce said you might have nightmares. I’ll stay with you. If you want.”

It’s not a straight answer to your question, but it is definitely an answer. And it’s the answer you wanted. Marc likes you.

“You can stay, but they can get kinda bad.” You try to offer him an out, not wanting to scare him off when you wake up sobbing about a memory from his childhood. “I know you’re tired too.”

He’s having none of it as he shakes his head and pushes open your door, letting you lead the way inside. You change in your bathroom, brush your teeth quickly, and leave a spare toothbrush out for Marc. While he’s in the bathroom, you tuck yourself into bed feeling strangely nervous at the prospect of sleeping beside someone who was more than a platonic friend. It had been a long time since you’d done that.

You’re staring up at the ceiling when Marc crawls under the covers and turns out the light. He lays on his back too and feels for your hand to lace your fingers together.

“Can I- can I lay on you?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he drops your hand and opens his arms to you instead. You scoot closer and rest your head on chest, tossing an arm over his midsection, and pressing yourself close. He smooths circles across your back with his one hand and with the other toys with your fingers splayed across his ribs.

“Marc?”

“Hm?”

“I might have understated earlier.” Your voice shakes. Already your body is anticipating the nightmares, pumping anxiety inducing adrenaline through your system and making you tremble. “The nightmares are gonna be really bad, so you can leave if I keep you up.”

Marc leans forward to kiss the top of your head, a contact that is remarkably intimate. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m kind of an expert at sleepless nights.”

My Masterlist

Taglists (Want to be added? Click here.)

**This is a mess. Some people won’t tag. I’ve definitely missed people. I’m so so sorry!

MK Taglist: @love-on-the-murder-scene @bookfrog242 @irethepotato @graciexmarvel @simonsbluee @nagemasstuff @whovian378 @cringingmemeries @eerievixen @velyssaraptor @lethalbeautiful @mixerya92 @marrigold-2002 @sugarpunch-princess @slytherheign @simping-master-69 @bristark616 @kotonei-molyneux @slasherssexslave @luna-maximoff-22 @fantasy-is-best @dd242 @harrys-tittie @fandomgal64 @7minutes-tomidnight @deliciousblackfatcat @rqmanoff @xzombiealicex @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @femalemarvelself @hopefulfangirl24 @ale0m @a1tbunny @in-between-the-cafes @leh2393 @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @hopefulfangirl24 @hb8301 @mrsxreeves @alicetweven @woofgocows @blulemonades @alicetweven @queenie-rebel @snowinseptember @copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @chickenfoot6969 @splashofbi @maplemind @death-by-teacup @littlenosoul @local-mr-frog @knopewyattworld @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @sparkythefallen1 @bex-tk1 @rellasnowheenim @huitzilinthebudgie3 @brookiebarnes @aduckinpain @ashes-136667

MK Taglist who I’m having trouble tagging: @parkeeepingparker @hoe4fiction @1337animeami @stxrielle @kezibear @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @welcometostayingawake @jvstjewels @laters-gators12 @infinityparadoxloop @wolf-phoenix-lover

Other people who interacted with part 1: @spider-biter @brekkers-desigirl @elliaze @thescarletredwitch @calicokitkat @stargazingcarol @jupitersmoon167 @virtie333 @juneknight

Feel free to message me if you want taken off a list or untagged from this post!

452 notes · View notes