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w-m-heart · 7 months

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Flufftober Day 7: Forever Sounds Perfect

Fandom: Moon Knight Pairing: Moon Knight Boys (Steven, Marc & Jake) x Reader Word Count: 1472 words Summary: You and your darlings go to a wedding, and suddenly all that happiness is exactly what you want for your future with them. In that happiness, you can't help but...pop the question.

A/N: The reader in this might skew slightly more feminine because I essentially wrote it around the outfit, but no pronouns are used, so it's still gender-neutral

“You look gorgeous,” Steven murmured.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway, watching you with a soft look of adoration that made your heart skip.

He was right though. You looked stunning. You were wearing a mulberry chiffon pantsuit that made you feel like a powerful boss. You’d brought a shawl for the day if it ever got too cool, but Jake had convinced you to keep it off. It was a good decision. Between the halter neck and sleeveless design, and the earrings, you felt unstoppable. Gorgeous too.

You held out your hand to him. “You look pretty breathtaking yourself,” you said with a soft smile.

They truly did. Jake had chosen their suit, and every time you saw them in it was like the air had been sucked from your lungs. The jacket was a soft blue that made you want to run your hands all over it and the shirt beneath flowed over them like a second skin. Steven had made sure the suit was perfectly tailored to their build, and you’d thoroughly thanked him for it.

Everything from their pants—which curved deliciously over their fine ass—to the tie Marc had long since loosened, fit them like a gorgeous glove. Half of you wanted to rip it off and just devour them, while the other half wanted to just stare at them for eternity.

“You think?” Marc fidgeted with their tie beneath your gaze, loosening the knot further. Every second of this “monkey suit” business was making his skin crawl, and the fact that he was still here made your heart melt.

You tugged him closer, winding your fingers together, until he stood between your legs. You tipped your head back and smiled at them. Reaching up with your other hand, you loosened the tie until it hung around their neck like an odd scarf. Then you took their other hand in yours and took a second to just adore them.

“I think it is taking everything in me to not tear that suit off you and show you just how much I like it.”

The tension disappeared from his shoulders and a spark of mischief entered his eyes as he smirked. “Oh yeah?” Jake drawled.

He dropped one of your hands and trailed his fingers along your jaw, tipping your head back. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip and his eyes darkened as your tongue flicked out. “And how do you plan on doing that, mi sol?”

Your own smile turned wicked.

Jake’s grip on your chin loosened as Steven fronted. “Not here, love,” he murmured with a fond and exasperated chuckle, even as his eyes never left your mouth. “We’ll get kicked out.”

Worth it, Jake mouthed and you grinned as you twisted in his grip to press a kiss to his palm.

But still you pulled back. Steven was right. You were at the wedding of one of your work friends, and she would never forgive you if you disappeared for a quickie on her porch swing. The ceremony itself might have been over, but seeing as the reception was being held in the barn only a few metres away—well, her murdering you would spoil the evening.

With a quiet laugh you pulled your darlings onto the swing next to you. They wrapped their arm around your shoulders and you curled into their side. The sun was setting and you could see why this farmstead had been chosen as the wedding venue. The day had been the perfect blend of summer and fall, but the sunset was sublime. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees and lit the entire world in a golden glow.

“...the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Marc murmured, and you looked up to see him gazing down at you.

He wasn’t talking about the sunset.

You blushed hard at the love in his eyes and his words. You buried your face into his shirt so the sight wouldn’t kill you immediately.

Their fingers curled beneath your chin again, pulling your face up. You swallowed thickly at the adoration in Steven’s eyes. His breath caught as he looked down at you and you felt yourself falling in love all over again.

The four of you had been dating for almost two years now, and not a day went by where you didn’t thank your stars. Not one, not two, but three gorgeous men loved and adored you for who you were. All your good sides and bad sides—even the worst ones you usually kept hidden.

The four of you had grown so much in the time that you’d known each other, and your heart skipped to remember how you’d met and fallen in love with each and every one of them. They were your darlings, and you adored them more than anything else in the world.

“How’d you get to be so stunning, love?” Steven whispered, eyes wide as he drank you in. “And how’d we get so lucky?”

“We must’a done something great in our last life,” Jake muttered. His thumb made a pass over your cheek that made you shiver.

Your cheeks hurt with how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t help it when they were saying stuff like that. Frankly you were the lucky one to have them, even if they’d never agree with you.

Instead of passing out from happiness like you half wanted to, you cupped their cheek. “Thank you, darlings.”

The love of all three of them crinkled the corners of their eyes as they smiled at you and dipped their head to meet you in the middle. It was a soft kiss, full of everything you didn’t need to say. It was a declaration of adoration and a promise of forever. Your heart skipped a beat and you leaned forward, fingers slipping into their hair.

Cheers broke you apart with matching gasps. You all looked over to the barn where you could see the bride and groom doing shots. You chuckled and dropped your head onto your darling’s shoulder. Their arm curled around your waist and they pressed another kiss to the crown of your head as you watched the wedding party getting more raucous with every shot.

After a quiet moment, a thought came to your mind and you blurted it out before you could convince yourself otherwise. “Do you think that could ever be us?” Your boys froze beside you and you hurried on before you lost your nerve. “You know, married.”

You didn’t know what made you ask it, but now that you had, it was all you could think about. The four of you, bound together for all of eternity. A ring on your finger, a matching band on theirs. Walking down that aisle to where they waited for you. Suddenly that was all you could possibly want. You, them. Forever.

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Jake asked, his voice low and tight.

You looked up at them, eyebrows furrowed. “All of you.”

Did they really think you would choose between them? How could you? How could anyone?

They swallowed thickly, eyes darting over your face like they were searching for a lie. You pressed a hand over their heart and insisted, “All of you. I can’t have one of you without the others.” You licked your lips, suddenly desperate to get them to believe you. “There isn’t a part of your system that I don’t completely adore. I love all of you and I want forever, for all of us.” You swallowed, suddenly terrified their hesitation was a ‘no’. “If you want that too, that is.”

They made a strangled noise and surged forward to slam their lips against yours.

This time the kiss was rough, desperate, like they couldn’t get enough of you. Their hands cupped your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. They devoured you like it was the first and last time rolled into one. And you reciprocated with every atom of your being.

Eventually they pulled back, resting their forehead against yours as you all gasped for air. Both your chests heaved as they cupped your cheeks and you gripped their lapels.

“Forever,” Marc gasped, pressing closer. “Yes. Yes.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide as your heart thumped in your throat. “Yeah?”

Steven closed his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek as he nodded frantically. “Forever. All of us. Yes, love.”

Jake swallowed as he fronted, clutching you closer. “We’re going to need a better proposal than that, amor,” he said gruffly and you laughed, your own eyes overflowing with tears. Then he broke into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. “But forever does sound perfect.”

And from that moment, forever would always remind you of sunsets and porch swings.

Thank you to @flufftober for the prompts! 💜

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #flufftober 2023 #fanfiction #ao3 #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #flufftober #my fic: falling for them #fluff #wedding fluff

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cometisadragon · 4 months

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a quick fanart doodle for @erinptah ‘s Cover of Knight fic series! i had An Idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it until i made it real. team moon knight movie night!

#moon knight #my art #cover of knight #ao3

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asimplearchivist · 5 months

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"𝓘𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽?"

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐗𝐕

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary �� ⤏ you and the boys have a set of rules. jake doesn’t like it when you break them. pairing(s) ☽ jake lockley/reader-centric | constellations!verse word count ☾ 2.3k a/n ☽ ⤏ my first entry for the moon knight bingo hosted by @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch over at @moonknight-events ! I will eventually crosspost this to the main fic for constellations on ao3 when it will best fit the chronological progression of the chapters! this takes place post-chapter iii. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT ENTRY ☽

You froze midstep, a loaded fork raised halfway to your gaping mouth as your rounded eyes darted over to Jake’s silhouette darkening the doorway, the fluorescent hallway lights accentuating the diaphanous material of his prized silk pajama top hanging from the topography of your form.

His question went unheard, and thus unanswered. The headphones covering your ears—set on the noise canceling feature, he knew all too well—had disguised the noisy, fumbling jangle of their keyring, the rasp of the tarnished key inserted into the jammy slot, and the rattle of the unyielding knob as he’d worked his way inside.

You had broken not one—not two—but three rules that they had long since established when you’d moved in with them for—primarily—the ease of travel and the ever-steepening cost of rent. Secondarily, of course, came the benefits of having an additional person to help maintain the neglected residence—chores and errands were remarkably less daunting now with one more pair of hands to fulfill the monotonous tasks involved. Tertiarily…well, waking up to the sight of you in their bed most mornings certainly had its perks, and it made them feel better knowing you were that much safer than living halfway across the city all alone.

Which was exactly why the rules had been established in the first place.

Marc had started them, of course—it should come as little surprise, that. He’d been transparent with you about the nature of his past, although he did omit the more gruesome details, and had made you aware of the fact that he was a wanted man. Thus the very first rule had been set in place—should anything dangerous ever happen involving his past mercenary work, you were to get to safety and wait until he came to you. Stay in public, stay in sight of cameras and civilians, stay away from the action. Of course you’d broken that the first time such a situation had cropped up and had gone directly south, but…that was neither here nor there, at this point. Fortunately, the incident had yet to have been repeated, and you were far better prepared now that he had taken the time to train you on protocol. He’d since made many more.

Steven added domestic ones over time—cutesy and saccharine in contrast to the first—and he invited you to, as well. They mostly revolved around your shared daily lives to set up a stable routine in the midst of your sometimes busy, stressful, and fast-paced lives, although there were a few errant ones sprinkled in that were odd by comparison. He’d eventually sat down and typed them up to print them out and pin them to the fridge, mostly as a joke, but that had devolved into a chart and to-do list thanks to yours and his tendencies to organize things.

Jake’s—while few and far between—were simple, blunt, and short, and rules never with which to be trifled due to his immovable stance on them: like working on the sabbath, allowing him to be a gentleman, or binging ahead on TV series that you both were watching together.

Some were harmless, some were important for the health of the relationship, some were rooted in inside jokes or straight up ridiculous…and some were intended to make sure that harm never befell you because of them, which was why Jake was not pleased in the slightest when—under any other normal circumstance—he would be ‘chuffed’ to see you, for lack of a better word.

Firstly, you hadn’t set up all the locks like you were supposed to do while they were out and you were at home by yourself.

Secondly, you had blocked out all sounds with those headphones—he couldn’t fault you for that, he knew you got overstimulated by noise sometimes (and he even resorted to using them himself at times when the world grew just this side of too loud), but they’d requested that you not use them while they were gone just on the off-chance that someone tried to break in.

Thirdly…perhaps not as egregious a mistake as the prior two, but…you’d cooked and cleaned the kitchen, when it had been agreed upon to split the job between each of you—one person would cook, then (on rotation, in their case), the other would clean, so that preparing the complex meals their individual diets required wouldn’t be so tedious an affair.

The chagrin creasing your expression told him that you knew exactly where you’d erred.

“Hola, chaparrita,” he crooned, pursing his lips to hide the twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as you hurried over to the kitchen island to set down the bowl and to tug the headphones from your ears to hang around your neck. He could hear the music from where he stood, shutting the door behind him and rectifying your initial oversight. You fumbled your phone out of your pocket and paused the track before tucking it away once more. “Qué haces?”

“Hola, amor,” you greeted without meeting his gaze, moving over to the stove to dish up a bowl of pasta. You didn’t look up even as he approached, easing in behind you and sliding his hands around your waist to coil his arms around you. He heard you swallow as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. “How was the traffic?”

“Horrible,” he rumbled, eyes falling to the bowl in your hand, as well as the steam curling up towards his face. As delectable as it smelled, he wouldn’t be so easily distracted by food. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You’re honestly home sooner than I expected,” you confessed, voice quiet as you attempted to twist around—but he didn’t budge. “Here, it’s still warm. Steven forgot his lunch so I know you’re probably starving. Want to sit on the couch?”

“Que linda,” he chuckled, tilting his head to skim his lips along the sweep of your neck. You squirmed and shrank away with a noise of protest—the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against your sensitive skin always tickled. “Are you going to fess up or am I going to have to drag it out of you, hermosa? Hmm? Qué dices?”

You hesitated, setting the bowl to the side. It wasn’t long. You weren’t trying to make excuses. It was clear that you were perfectly privy to the implication of his low, even tone, and that you were merely ruminating on how best to soften his evident malcontent. Jake didn’t set his foot down in many matters, but when it came to his protectiveness over you…there was no winning on your end. Some might call him overbearing, but you (fortunately) found it endearing.

“Honestly?” you finally ventured, the tension in your frame dissipating as you sank back into his grasp with a blustery sigh. “I forgot.”

“You forgot the habits you’ve had for months?” he pressed, kissing the tender place below and behind your ear to feel you shiver.

“It…it’s a long story.” You craned your head back to return the gesture, bestowing one upon the arch of his wind-blistered cheek.

“Dime,” he murmured, squeezing you and pulling you more tightly against his frame. It was a miserably cold and rainy evening, and walking all the way from the parking garage on the other side of the block had made him consider moving out of England as soon as possible.

“Well, to begin,” you said tersely, though he could tell that it wasn’t directed at him—your repressed exasperation bubbled to the surface as you flicked off the burner and covered the pot with more force than you would normally, disliking making harsh sounds if you could help it, “I started in the middle of the day.”

“Marc warned you it was coming up,” he reminded you.

“I know, but my cycle is also a capricious bitch who’s more indecisive than me, so forgive me if it slipped my mind,” you returned flatly. “So I had to deal with all that during rush hour. Then a whole table came in right before closing and took up an extra thirty minutes because one of them couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted an English Breakfast or an espresso.”

“At ten o’clock,” he surmised.

“Obviously she didn’t need the sleep because she opted for a cold brew instead,” you continued, “like an absolute mad lad.”

“And then?” he prompted.

“Finally got them out of the door, locked up, headed home—then it started raining and just guess who forgot her umbrella this morning?”

“That wasn’t my fault this time,” Jake pointed out indignantly, “since mi hermanito can’t keep his hands to himself when you prance around here looking like that.”

“With baggy sweatpants and crusty eyes? Yeah, the real pinnacle of beauty, right there,” you huffed, although your fondness leaked into your tone. “So I got soaked running from the bus stop to here, dripped all over the floor, pissed off Miss Hutcherson in the process—”

“I’m sure I can smooth her feathers down for you,” he assured, reaching up to skim his fingers along the side of your head, curving around to grasp your chin gently so he could direct your eyes to meet his. “Nothing a little sweet talking can’t fix.”

“She loves you for your churros,” you groused while pouting, “and you should really stop getting involved in all the gossip in the building, it’s going to get you in trouble one day.”

“I’ve got to keep my ear to the ground, cariño; besides, it’s more entertaining than television,” he laughed quietly, muffling the sound by pressing his lips to your forehead in apology. “Did she give you a lecture?”

“On posing a falling hazard without her offering a towel so I could dry off or anything? Yeah.” You reached up and clasped your hands around the nape of his neck, delving your fingertips into his curls and succeeding in not jostling his cap. That rule, it seemed, would be one you did manage to keep tonight. “I finally got up here and had a disagreement with the doorknob—you or Marc need to oil it again, by the way—and dropped my bag trying to get everything locked up, dumped everything everywhere, got pissed off and showered after.”

Jake was doing his damndest to restrain the brunt of his amusement, but you apparently perceived the glitter of mirth in his eyes because you turned your head while rolling your eyes. “I’m glad you find my shitty day so funny.”

“It’s not funny, chaparrita,” he soothed. (It was hilarious.) “Do I need to jot all this down so we can publish the next best-selling kid’s book?”

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” you warned. “I started getting hot flashes and couldn’t get the water adjusted so I just about froze my ass off cleaning up. I nearly burned the butter and almost ran out of parmesan and the pepper grinder got stuck and…stop laughing, this is serious!”

Jake clamped his mouth shut as his eyes dropped to observe the colorful silk draped over the line of your shoulders. “Is that why you’re wearing my shirt?”

“It’s the coolest thing in the house and I sure as hell am not walking around naked since all three of you refuse to buy any decent curtains,” you griped.

“It looks better on you than it does on me, anyway,” Jake said, caressing your arm, side, and settling to grasp your hip. “You know where it would look the best, though?”

“Ha ha,” you scoffed. “Good luck on that front, jefe. We’re not adding having to wash murder-scene sheets to everything else I’ve dealt with today.”

“That all explains why you forgot to lock the door,” he digressed, “but what about these?” He tapped the headphones resting against your clavicle. “Don’t like you not being able to listen for the door.”

“The neighbors made up,” you deadpanned. “I’m lucky there was any hot water left.”

“Ah.” He nodded, acquiescing on that front, at least. “Already? They only lasted two days this time. She really ought to have higher standards.”

“Jake,” you groaned, “I don’t want to hear about her sordid trysts again. Especially after she hit on you on a rebound to get back at her ex…or whatever the hell he’s classified as now.”

“Fine,” he grinned. “...I take it that you did the dishes to distract yourself?”

“The only thing louder than them was the screaming inside my head, so…yeah.”

“Lamento que hayas tenido un día tan malo, mi vida,” he said softly, tugging you into the crook of his arm so your head rested against his shoulder. He cupped your cheek and kissed you properly this time, humming in satisfaction as he felt you relax fully. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you returned. “I’m sorry I forgot the other stuff. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. Just try to remember next time.” He bopped the end of your nose with his finger, smirking as you went cross-eyed for just a moment before you frowned. “I’d rather not have anything other than a series of mildly inconvenient events happen to you.”

“If this happens again anytime soon, I’m holing myself up in bed and hibernating,” you grumbled. “Everything else be damned.”

“And I’ll wait on you hand and foot until the world is deemed fit enough for you to light upon its unworthy surface once more,” he purred. “But for now I’ll kiss it better, yes?”

That did the trick—as his flirtations usually did.

You glanced away, flustered, but allowed him to herd you over to the couch, bowls in hand, and settled you under a blanket to keep your bare feet warm, despite your claims not to need it.

“Just indulge me. At this rate you’ll get hypothermia or frostbite,” he quipped, “and I don’t really feel like digging frozen toes out from between the cushions after the idiocy I witnessed on the road tonight.”

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #moonknightevents #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #reader insert #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley/you #jake lockley x you #ao3: constellations

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mind-travel-er · 2 years

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The London Daily Ride

09:33

# Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader Jake Lockley x female reader # Synopsis: Before you know him as "Steven from the gift shop", you know him as "Steven from the bus stop". Every day, a new opportunity to discover the lovely little quirks of a stranger; becoming more and more familiar. That is, until someone else shows up. # Warning/Content: Fluff/Angst, Character Study, Accurate DID (can be triggering), Touched-starved!Steven, sex (future chapters). # Word Count: 1.3k [read me on AO3] · [next chapter]

There is comfort in being alone.

A bliss in enjoying yourself endlessly with no prying eyes. No expectations from anyone.

Yet, there’s a fine line between solitude and isolation. Withdrawal. Sometimes, you couldn’t tell the difference between the two, and occasionally, you would slip. Going to bed later than you should, burying yourself in one of your hyper-fixations. Not only avoiding social occasions, but preventing the chance to create them altogether.

Still, there is comfort in that. Even in that. Trepidation. A sheltered world you have been masterly building; the possibility of negative interactions denied at its borders. No trespassing. Only safety. That’s the bubble you’re in, that early morning on the bus. Absently seated, not even aware of your own body, since you’ve spent the last few weeks embedding your mind into passion, like a hammer on a nail, geeking out. You have no energy for anything else.

The bubble is about to burst. You don’t want that. Yet, it needs to. It needs to since, out there, strategies of coping are required. Every so often, even a disdainful look from the local cashier is all it takes to shatter to pieces. And of course, being a woman entails, before all, being sharp and quick enough to know in seconds if a stranger’s eyes should be avoided. Men’s eyes. You’ve read the statistics. Experienced some yourself. You know that even when you know them, there’s a risk.

Such is the world. And thus, such is the need for the bubble. Even when alone merges into lonely.

That’s when you see him.

Not much worth a look.

He's on the driver’s side of the standing area, seated backwards. A countercurrent. A perfect diagonal; opposing your figures. Between, the automatic gates of the bus intermittently opening and closing, as the passengers get to their destination or are entering; taking shelter from the cruel Londoner’s rain. Your eyes caught the head tilting down, as he’s clearly drowsing off, and you smile. That’s the little but meaningful details that you like to observe. When the empty interactions slip to reveal authenticity. Even for a few precious seconds.

When you lie in your bed at night, what will you remember? The day passes in a rush, always occupied or preoccupied by work. If not, responding to emails and messages, watching endless feeds on your phone. All that, the long-term memory part of your brain doesn’t care for it. It is devoid of emotions. During the night, the brain will implacably select what is worth keeping. What will you remember, in the dark of a room, after a long day?

The odd-ish, luminous, mischievous details that made you feel, you bet.

It's what makes the difference between boring repetitiveness of the days and fondness for a new one coming.

So, you observe him with new-found attention. Like witnessing a scene in a theatre. The smell of rain on coats tingling your nostrils. The tip-taping on the windows, insistently conveying a sense of shelter in your chest. Your outfit hugging your flesh into reassurance; humid vest, yet clothes underneath dry.

Not much worth a look. It’s true. His clay-grey gabardine seems to fall too big on his shoulder, even if it isn’t. There, droplets of rain are holding on; still not quite dried. He’s dressed proper, with a shirt almost the same colour; a tad darker. Your eyes descend to his shoes. Navigator shoes. And your smile widens: Typical dad shoes, you think. They are taken care of. The leather has recently been polished, and you nod lightly in appreciation that you know isn’t needed from anyone. However, they aren’t neatly tied as one would expect. Tidy, but distracted, you deduce. Next to the paradox embedded in his shoes, a black saddleback. Effective, yet not remarkable. And you wonder if people, co-worker or friends, would state the same thing about its owner. Your eyes drag across his figure, ultimately coming back to the top. You can’t see much of his face, leaning forwards. Only his mane, a mess of brown -you can only guess- soft curls; damped by the dreadful weather of the day.

He must be narcoleptic, you deliberate. Following the movement of the bus as it takes its turns, you see his head lolling to the side; only to land on the man in his 50s seated next to him; reading a newspaper. The businessman, aquiline and imperious nose, bothers to shoot an exasperated side-eyed look. Still… he says nothing. It’s not really a kindness, but it warms your heart anyway. That alone would have sufficed to light up the coming night. It makes your smile-turned-into-grin need to be tamed. You force yourself to observe the linoleum of the bus, constellated with shoe marks brought by the heavy rain -small dull mirrors- to regain control of the muscles of your face.

The next bus stop comes. The newspaper-man folds its adjective and gets up. The other shoots its head straight up, one eye half hooded, the other wide; a literal sketch from a comic book. Promptly, he’s apologising profusely, running on sudden adrenaline. And you notice two things: One, a lovely, distinct Londoner accent. Two, how the phrases coming out of his mouth sound a bit boyish. "Oh sh -. Oh, So-Sorry about tha’. I didn’t mean to- I-" and he offers a contrite smile. "Don’t get much sleep is all."

And as the older man folds his copy of the London Daily, stepping out indifferently: "Y- Yeah, okay. Goodbye then.” And he waves.

"Thanks for the shoulder!" A full chuckle is menacingly creeping up your throat, as a powerful fondness melts your core. It’s hard not to see yourself in him. Apologising for things that aren’t really serious, or demanding one. Apologising to someone that doesn’t have the appreciation for it. Now living under your chest, something tender has made its home. Despite that, a sting. As you realise that just a few seconds after he has waved goodbye, he turns his head to consider the dreadful weather by the window and his expression falls. A disappointment of sorts, perhaps, to see the disregard in the other’s reaction. And you think again: Why can’t people just be nice? Not nice. Just decent. In the back of your mind, Humperdinck echoes the end of his refrain: "Lonely is a man without love". Any kind of love, you think. Even from a stranger. After that, you don’t allow him out of your sight, but he doesn’t notice. His hands laying on his laps with no purpose, he looks behind him, at his right, then at his left -the empty seat-. Then, he looks up at the bus's hanging screen with narrowing eyes; mouth opened. A new stop, people in, people out. By the time he’s in your line of sight again, he has fumbled a book out from the bag near his feet, adjusting his glasses on his nose and frowning at the pages. The glasses of a librarian. Or an archivist. And you wonder again, if what you imagine somewhat defines the person he really is.

Oh, bless him, you think.

Hardly anyone reads in the bus or the train these days. Yourself included. The dopamine-inducing-apps are too hard to resist. A book always seems too much trouble, with a significant chance of missing your own stop when your brain finally settles into the reading. Instead, you much prefer observing the passers-by, searching for the details. You examine his deep frown. His ravish looks from time to time; as he must be reading a particularly interesting passage. His fingers fumbling to crook a corner, you fantasise, for him to read again later. Undeniably, if not found in others, love can be found in other passions.

And then, the realisation hits you. What you’re witnessing has an intimate familiarity. The bubble. His bubble. Laid bare for everyone to see. Yet, no one is paying attention.

No one, except you.

#steven grant #oscar isaac #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockely x you #moon knight #moon knight tv #moon knight fanfic #ao3 #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant imagine #jake lockley imagine

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neverkayzat · 7 months

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I have (maybe) fallen in love with Gus.

THIS CRITTER IS FROM @erinptah'S COVER OF KNIGHT CINEMATIC UNIVERSE READ IT PLEASSEE IT'S SO GOOD AUAGHAAaAA (sobbing)

The aftermath...

I hid this under the cut MUAHAHA IM so normal (insane)

#moon knight #moon knight fanart #my art #digital art #sketch #cover of knight cinematic universe #ao3 fanart #ao3 fanfic #moon knight art #I LOVE GUS SO MUCH #YOU HAVENO IDEA #You have NO IDEA how introducing this critter has altered my brain chemistry #THEY'RE SO SILLY AUAGAH #I love sitty critters #absolute BUG #SQUISHING HIM (pos)#i did this at midnight and thus why it's not colored BUT #I love them <33

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skvlly-idk · 1 year

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Steven Grant / Marc Spector X Reader (?)!

Please don’t translate, no permission to repost any of my writing anywhere, and do not copy and claim it as your own.

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, praising kink, teasing, dominant and submissive, impregnating

Pairings: Msub!Steven x Mdom!Marc x Fsub!Reader

18+! If you continue reading, you are acknowledging that you are 18+ and that you have read the warnings.

"Steven?" I asked, noticing him sitting in his bed on the computer. He looked up, smiling as he saw me.

"Hey," I smiled back, sitting on the edge of the bed now.

"Hey, how did you get in?" He asked, setting his laptop next to him.

"Marc gave me a key a few days ago. He didn't tell you?"

He shook his head no before I noticed him switch.

"Hey baby," Marc smiled at me before he kissed me.

"Hi," I smiled back at him.

"What's up? Why'd you stop by?"

"Eh, I was bored and wanted to see what you were up to."

He nodded, patting the spot next to him. I crawled up the bed, sitting next to him.

His arm snuck around me, wrapping around my body and pulling me closer to him. "I missed you, your dad told me you were out of town for a bit?"

"Yeah. I had to visit my sister." I replied, rubbing circles on his chest with my pointer finger. "I missed you too."

I felt his hands travel down to my thighs, rubbing them softly as those said hands went under my sundress. My legs pressed together slightly before I heard him laugh softly. I opened my legs a little bit, for his hands to glide down to my pussy.

He started rubbing circles on my clit through my panties when he reached it, something built up inside me as I began to whimper under his touch.

In one quick movement, he ended up on top of me.

"Fuck me, please." I mumbled as he adjusted himself over me. I felt his hands pull at the rim of my underwear, teasing to pull them down. I groaned in annoyance as he played.

He chucked a little. "Okay, okay. No need to get upset." A small smile appeared on my face as he pulled them down all the way, now pulling his gray sweatpants off.

I looked at his face as he adjusted himself. Admiring his beauty. As my eyes traveled to his lips I felt him desperately shove himself inside of me, a surprised moan escaped my lips as he made eye contact with me. He smiled a little before kissing me and waiting for me to adjust.

"Okay.. You can go." I mumbled into the kiss. He pulled himself out before roughly slamming back into me, my back arched a bit as I cried out.

"Oh fuck." A rough moan slipping from my lips as he grunted, looking down my body, admiring me.

His body movements suddenly became different. His thrusts becoming softer as he began to whimper little moans.

"Ha~" I heard him whimper in a British tone. Oh shit. This is Steven.

My hands grabbed at his shirt gently as I pulled him closer to me. "Steven." I moaned into his shoulder. A shaky moan came from him as I moaned his name.

"Oh my-" Steven stuttered out, twitching here and there. I watched his hair move as he twitched over me, slamming into me gently.

Our lips crashed together, whimpers escaped through them as we kissed. The sound of our skin smacking against each other and our small repetitive whimpers filled the room.

My hands wrapped around his torso as he buried his face into my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair gently. Our sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

His thrusts became harder and faster, I heard grunting as his hands moved from around me and traveled up to my tits, squeezing them harshly. "Fuck." Marc moaned into my ear.

My hands traveled down from his head to his back, pulling on his shirt as he carelessly fucked into me deeper, each thrust slamming me into the bed. "Jesus fuck," I moaned out harshly as he hit that one spot deep inside of me.

"You feel so good. My good girl," he fucked his words into my mind, kissing my neck as he left hickeys upon me.

I felt my walls tighten around him; chasing my high as he began rotating his hips to create a pattern.

"So good." I heard him whisper, the bed shaking as my eyes shut.

His thrusts switched again, the same pace but a little bit softer.

"A-am I doing good?" Steven stuttered his words as he also chased his high.

"Yes. So good,” I moaned into his ear, opening my eyes. “Right there." I cried out as he hit that one spot again. Steven kept on that path, fucking that spot over and over again. I felt my vision going blurry, tingles flowing throughout my body. He kept the same pace, still whimpering in my ear.

I let out a loud moan as my walls clenched around his dick, his full length slammed into me as he fucked me through my orgasm, tears built up in my eyes when he continued fucking after I came. Words tried to escape my mouth but failed because of how overstimulated I was now. I felt him start to twitch aggressively. He began stuttering his words to the point I couldn't understand, his whimpers filled the room as he shot his full load inside of me.

An aggressive shudder escaped his mouth as he twitched in me more. Once again switching to Marc, he slammed his dick inside of me harder, fucking his cum into me harshly. He kept fucking me, pushing in and out eagerly.

My legs shook aggressively, a thin line of pain and pleasure passed over me as I whimpered under him. He thrusted one last time before pulling out.

He collapsed on me gently, burying his face against my neck.

Heavy breaths and little whimpers escaped from my lips as our cum spilled out of me. He nuzzled closer to me, kissing my neck and wrapping one arm around my stomach.

He continued to press his soft lips against my neck as he rubbed my stomach gently with his fingers.

"Marc?" I asked.

"Hmm?" He replied softly.

"I love you." My hand moved to his hand laying against my stomach, rubbing his knuckles lightly.

A little smile pressed against my neck. "I love you more, dear." A British voice rung throughout my ears causing me to smile.

My face soon dropped when I realized he came in me and I wasn’t on birth control, that’s the reason he was rubbing my stomach.

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raggedyhive · 2 years

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the highest honor as a fanfic writer is seeing ur work bookmarked under some variation of "fics i think about in therapy"

#you're gonna look at me and you're gonna tell me that i'm wrong?#moon knight ao3 #i'm having a blast reading through these tbh #they have trauma your honor #marc spector and steven grant and jake lockley will forever own my heart ig

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seven4asecret · 2 months

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₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.1 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! (Eventual Avatar) Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes

A short fic following the show with a reader sensitive to otherworldly beings. I wrote this because I have beef with the show's Anubis erasure. Apologies for any errors & bad writing.

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter 1: A Dusty Ass Bird Man Won't Leave My Neighbor Alone

For as long as you can remember you've been able to see or sense things, whatever they might be. Spirits, guides, or guardians, you thought you had seen them all by now. It had become normal. Especially since beginning at the museum. It was common to see spirits watering around the exhibits. After all, the museum did house remains, and items of all sorts, each with a story. Even during tours, you would spot at least one person with some type of attachment. Perhaps, a deceased family member, a guide, or a protective spirit. So when you met Steven Grant and sensed the entity attached to him, you figured it was something similar.

As you spent time with Steven you were able to get a better feel for the entity, it became more tangible. It felt different, off in a way you hadn't felt before with others. So you waited, maybe time would allow your ability to reveal it. The entity hadn't appeared to be hostile, at least not yet. But you got a distinct feeling that it could be very dangerous if it wished, and it felt

very,

old.

And it knew!

It knew you could sense it, and it watched you.

When you were near it you found that it would respond. It would cause small, almost gentle gusts of wind, to brush against you, or the lights to flicker. You got the odd feeling that it was curious about you. Somehow, for some reason, you had caught the attention of something very old and powerful. You weren't quite sure what that meant.

Especially now.

Because it was looking right at you.

Across the museum showroom, it perched on top of a ledge. Whatever had clouded your ability to see it before had dissipated, leaving the entity finally visible. It was frightening, and unlike anything, you had seen before. It was a tall semi-humanoid skeletal bird, wrapped in old bandages, gripping a crescent-topped staff.

It tilted its head to the side, and your stomach dropped. You felt that it was examining you. Your hands shook, and you tightened the grip on your coffee. Your eyes darted to the right, catching a glance inside the nearby gift shop. Steven was there speaking to Donna. You looked back to the entity, only to feel its presence dissipate. Whatever it was, had left you for the time being. You let out a breath.

Donna passed you as she headed out, heels clicking against the tile floor. You took this as your chance. You stepped into the gift shop. Steven was sorting through the array of trinkets at the register, his curly hair a bit disheveled, and dark circles under his lidded eyes. You smiled fondly as you noticed the quirky Hawaiian-like shirt he wore.

You liked to think you knew Steven fairly well, despite you both working in different areas of the museum, yours being the Greco-Roman exhibit. Something about Steven caught your attention when you first saw him at the museum. Maybe it was because of the strange entity that followed him, perhaps it was because you could sense death at one time had a hold on him. Either way, your curiosity got the better of you. Your observations from afar eventually turned into conversations. It was tricky at first with how easily flustered he got, but you found it charming. He was a bit clumsy, often tripping over his own feet, and had a tendency to drift off in odd places. But it quickly became obvious how fond he was of Egyptian lore, you loved how happy and animated Steven would get when he talked about it. You found him enduringly awkward and made a point to speak to him when you could. It didn't take long for a friendship to form.

His face lit up as he saw you approach the register. Your heart skipped a beat at his smile.

"Hiya!" He gave you an adorable half-wave, "What brings you in here? Thought you'd be out touring by now."

You smiled, "I had a tour canceled last minute and made a coffee run. I thought you might want a little something." Steven had told you about his insomnia weeks ago as he walked with you to your shared building. You weren't surprised. You were a bit touched though. He trusted you enough to tell you about just how serious it was. While you couldn't do much to actually help him you tried to make work a little more bearable. And while you hadn't actually ever seen him drink coffee, you knew how he took his tea. He used a sickening amount of sugar and honey and-

"Oh! You didn't- You didn't have to do that. But I- I appreciate it, really. Thanks."

You handed him the still-steaming cup of tea. Your fingers brushed. You tried to ignore the sudden heat rising in your face. You hoped that he didn't notice.

"I don't mind. Gives me a chance to visit my favorite gift shop-ist." You caught a sheepish smile from him as he took a sip.

Your eyes scanned the shop, looking for a conversation starter. You spotted a sarcophagus poster behind him, and your smile widened.

Bingo.

His brows furrowed and he lowered his cup as he noticed the shit-eating grin on your face.

"Oh no, don't even think about it, I know exactly what that look means-"

"What's a mummy's favorite type of coffee?" You paused for dramatic effect. "De-coffin-ated!" You attempted to make finger guns the best you could while holding your coffee.

Silence.

"That was-" He shook his head, smiling softly, "that was terrible."

It was. But hey, you put a bunch of effort into researching Egypt-related jokes. It may have only been for Steven, but you were going to use them, even if they were terrible.

"I know, pretty bad. It was just too good to pass up." You take a sip of your coffee, suddenly a bit shy. "I um- I never got a chance to thank you for the book. It was nice of you to do."

A few weeks back you had mentioned to Steven that you had never gotten into Egyptian mythology. You knew barely anything about it, save for your fascination with the mummification process. You couldn't help but notice how fond Steven was of it. He would light up, eyes gleaming and gesturing excitedly as he mentioned historical facts. You loved to listen to him, he made it seem so intriguing. While you hadn't had any interest in Egyptian lore before meeting Steven, you certainly did now. When you told him about your curiosity on the subject he looked at you like you had made his day. And honestly, you probably had. On your next shift, when you opened your locker, you were surprised to find a book.

'Egyptian Mythology: Gods, Goddesses, and Lore of Ancient Egypt'

It looked well worn, and very much loved. Its pages were a bit yellowed and curved, and its spine had lines. You could easily tell this book had been read many many times. You opened the cover and saw a name scribbled into the top corner. It was Steven's. Steven was letting you borrow his book on Egyptian mythology. You flipped through the pages briefly, a colored tab grabbing your attention. You stopped, and read the note:

'Have a feeling you'll like this one' An arrow extended from the end of the sentence to the chapter title:

'Anubis: God of Mummification and Guardian of the Dead'

After this, you quickly developed an interest in the afterlife and Anubis. A bit morbid, but both fascinating and fitting.

"O-oh! It was nothing really," He blushed, "just nice to have someone else to talk about it y'know."

You nodded and began to fidget with your cup. "I was wondering if- you don't have to of course, but maybe you'd like to talk about it over lunch sometime or-"

"Sorry, can you give me a second?" Dylan, another tour guide, asked you.

"Oh! Yeah. Sure, of course." You stepped away from the register.

She turned to Steven, "Hello!"

"Hello." Steven looked a bit taken aback at her sudden appearance.

"How's the sugar trade going?"

"I don't know what this has to do with Egypt really." You smiled at his exasperated explanation as he fidgeted with an item." They didn't have that back then, did they? No. They liked figs and dates, and-"

"My next tour's here but just checking, are we still on for 7:00 tomorrow?" Your eyebrows raised.

'Oh. ' You glanced at Steven, heart sinking.

"7:00 tomorrow?"

"Best steak in town?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. Yeah. Yeah? Okay." He laughed. "Sorry. But... What? Are you asking me out?"

She laughed, "You're funny. I'll see you then."

"Stevie," Donna suddenly reappeared, "you absolute rascal. I didn't know you had taken a crack."

"I didn't know either." He sounded genuinely shocked, if not a bit confused.

"Steven," you asked," aren't you vegan?"

"Yeah."

"What in the world's a bloody vegan gonna eat in a steak house?" Donna said.

"I don't know, Donna. Salad? Bread?"

They did have great bread…

"Yeah, I can see why she went for it. Real catch you are." She rolled her eyes and left.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have a great time." You smiled softly, ignoring the pit forming in your stomach. You weren't jealous, you told yourself, you weren't. Dylan was nice and super smart, they'd have a nice time.

Steven nodded.

You glanced at your watch."I-I got to go, my next tour is probably here. It was nice to catch up."

"Laters!" He gave a small wave, which you returned as you left the shop. As you rounded the corner your eyes widened and you had to muffle a cry.

It was right there.

The large bird-man stood against the wall next to you. Your heart hammered against your chest. It turned its head and you could feel his non-existent eyes on you. You should just ignore it. After all, your tour was waiting. Instead, for some reason you greeted it.

"H-hello." Your voice shook.

You got the distinct feeling you had surprised it. You had never tried to speak to it before. It said nothing, just nodded its head in acknowledgment. You used this as a sign to continue, walking past it quickly, eyes fixed on the tiled floor below.

You took a breath in an attempt to settle yourself and walked toward your group. You introduced yourself and apologized for the delay.

"If you would follow me over here," You gestured with a sweeping motion, "you'll see the 'Pitsa pinakes', one the oldest known examples of panel painting in ancient Greece."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You walked through the building entrance, carrying a few bags. Your favorite tea brand had been on sale and you may have overindulged. But, in your defense, this particular strawberry tea was horribly tricky to find now. You sighed, pressing the up button. The elevator doors opened, revealing a familiar figure curled up in the corner.

"Steven?" You blinked in surprise.

He moved the hand that had covered his mouth, blinking a few times before giving you a small pitiful wave.

"H-hello." He muttered a bit dazed as the doors closed.

"Are you- are you okay? What happened?" His eyes were wide and he was trembling. You wanted to ask him where on earth he had been. Maybe mention the fact that he had missed his shift for two days, had you worried sick, but this obviously wasn't the time.

"Yeah...yeah I'm fine, thanks." He stood slowly, continuing to shake as he tightly gripped something to his chest. You pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"I don't want to bother you...but are you sure you're alright?" You knew Steven to be a bit jumpy, of course, but you had never seen him so terrified before. You hated seeing him this way. "I could walk with you, or just stay with you a for a bit... If you want. It would be no problem really."

The elevator jerked suddenly, causing Steven to make a sound of surprise as it reached the floor. The doors opened and the lights flickered eerily.

"S-sorry. There was..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey, its alright. Its okay. You're okay." You attempted to calm him, placing your hand on his arm.

"N-No. No I'm not." Steven shook his head. He looked at you, his eyes threatening to spill with tears.

"I'm not okay. I-I lose time and forget things. I go to sleep but only I'm not asleep. And the dreams- I can't tell if I'm dreaming or awake. I-I'm seeing things. And now there's this thing following me. I think- I think I'm losing it. I think I'm broken. I don't know what to do..." His voice broke, " I'm- I'm scared."

"Steven." You started softly, "I can't pretend I understand what you're going through... but you're not broken. You just need a bit of help. How about we go to my place? I'll make you some tea and you can tell me everything there if you want. Okay?"

He blinked at you confused and a bit surprised, "Y-yeah. That'd be- that would be nice."

"It's just down here." You adjusted your bags to one arm and took his hand with the other. You walked a few doors down the hall, pulled out your keys, and opened the door to your flat. You dropped his hand.

"Sit anywhere you'd like, tea will be just a moment."

Steven hesitated a moment before moving to the couch. He sat and began to fidget with his sleeve as he waited.

Meanwhile, you quickly threw a kettle on the stove before sitting beside him.

"Okay, tell me what happened, what's going on?"

He took a breath, "I told you about the insomnia right?"

You nodded.

"Well, I- when I do sleep, I have a bit of a problem too. I sleep walk. End up in all sorts of weird places too. Used to be pretty bad but I've...I've had it under control. For a while at least. I had this crazy dream though! It felt so real. So I sit up, I have no idea where I am, and this voice keeps telling me to 'surrender the body'. I got no clue what it keeps going on about so I look around and next thing I know I'm being shot at-" Steven continues to explain this dream. It was definitely odd, and a bit disturbing. You weren't quite sure how much it had to do with him being huddled in an elevator.

The kettle screeched.

"I'm listening, one moment." You grabbed two cups and poured the tea. Three spoons of sugar, and two of honey went into Steven's tea. The man’s sweet tooth was horrid.

"Anyway, I wake up today and Gus, my fish, he's always had only one fin, right? But I wake up and see he's got two! Two! Crazy right? And I'm no expert on fish but I'm pretty sure they don't grow back fins, yeah? So I take him to the shop and I ask the lady about it. And she said that she told me yesterday that all the fish have two fins. Now I know I haven't been in there for weeks. I know I wasn't there yesterday!" Your brows furrowed at this as you stirred the ungodly amount of sugar into his cup.

"Then I look at the clock and it's six already! And that's not right 'cause I just woke up. Then I go meet Dylan and wait, and she never shows so I-"

You handed him his cup.

"Thanks. So I call her, turns out its Sunday. Our....our date was two days ago!" His voice wavers. " I think I've been- I don't know, blacking out? Loosing time? I get back to my flat, give not-Gus a few sprinkles, and drop the chocolates I got. Then I notice drag marks on the floor. And that doesn't make since. I never move that table. So I follow them, and poke around and found a loose board above me. I reach in and find a key and the phone here." He pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"I looked through it, just a bunch of missed calls from the same person. Layla. Then they call. I answer and she calls me Marc. Which is crazy right? Just like the dream! Of course I tell her I'm not him and she hangs up. Then I hear this voice telling me to stop looking, to stay away. I was sure it's was an intruder but I look in the mirror and my- my reflection shakes it's head. On. It's. Own."

He took a breath, "Then the wind started throwing stuff across my flat, and there was this awful looking t-thing chasing me and-"

Your stomach dropped. You knew instantly what he was talking about.

"Wait. Hold on." You set your tea down. In all the time you had sensed the entity you had never felt that it held any sort of aggression towards Steven. This was new, and this could be bad. "The bird-man tried to chase you?"

"Y-You've seen it too?" Steven looks at you, pure shock etched onto his face.

Oops.

You didn't mean to say that, you didn't want to freak him out more.

You set your cup down and took a breath, cringing as you elaborated. "When I met you I could... sense the entity but couldn't actually see it- until recently. "

"And you've- you've never told me? Its been following me this whole time?" He looked down at his tea, hurt.

You sighed, " I wanted to. But it can be a bit hard to tell someone they have an ancient entity attached to them. It never seemed to have any ill will towards you, in fact I got the feeling it was more protective. If I'd have thought it would have threatened you I would have mentioned it. I'm sorry Steven."

He sighed. "No, its-its okay, just- its a lot. Do you-" he glanced at you, "Do you see... things like that often or..."

You nodded, looking down at your forgotten tea. "Yeah. I have... my entire life."

"So it's a bit like a 'Sixth Sense' thing is it?" He gave you a soft smile, his dark eyes glistening. You almost let out a breath of relief at this. At least he wasn't too upset with you.

"A bit, actually." You chuckled, before becoming serious again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Go on."

"N-No its fine. It just- it chased me into the elevator. When the doors opened and you were there I thought...I thought you might have been it."

You couldn't for the life of you understand what could have happened to make the entity's behavior change so drastically. You had no idea if any protection you could offer would work against something so old.

His voice wavered when he began to speak. "But the mirror...and the dreams...I'm-I'm not sure how much I see is real anymore."

It hurt you to see him like this panicked, and scared, and that you couldn't do anything to help him. His eyes began to tear up again.

"How do I know..." He paused. "Are- are you real?" Your heart broke when he looked up at you, uncertain. You set your cup down and took his hand, beginning to caress the back with your thumb. His eyes widened a bit at your gesture.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm real." You weren't sure what to do. What if he wanted you to prove it? If his dreams or hallucinations were just as vivid as reality, you couldn't. Instead, he released a breath in relief and to your surprise let his head drop to rest on your shoulder. Your heart pounded, and you hesitated a moment before resting your head on top of his.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, tracing your thumb against his hand, and listening to his breathing settle. You weren't sure how else to comfort him, but you wanted to do something. You hoped your company could at least provide him some comfort.

"This was...this was nice, having someone to talk to. Feels safe" He was tired. His voice was softer and slower, and his speech was more slurred so it would have been easy to miss what he said next:

"You make me feel safe." You were a bit surprised at his comment but relieved. You were glad you could do something for him, even if it was just that. Another moment of silence passed between you.

"I-I should go." He suddenly lifted his head and stood up, suddenly flustered.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" You weren't sure if it was a good idea. What if he blacked out? What if the bird-man did something to him?

"Yeah...I'll- I'll be fine." You walked him to the door, as he fidgeted nervously. "Thanks. For the- well, for everything, really."

"I'm happy to help!" You opened the door, and Steven stepped into the hallway.

"Laters!"

"Steven, wait." You ducked back into your flat and grabbed a scrap of paper. You quickly scribbled on it. "I-if you need anything, or if something happens again, just text me okay?" You nervously passed him the paper. He took it and glanced at it, eyes widening a bit.

"O-oh." He blinked, "Yeah...yeah I will, thanks... Laters gators!"

"In a while, Crocodile" You smiled fondly at him as he perked up a bit at the saying. He gave you a wave, which you returned, and walked off towards his flat.

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#moon boys #moon knight #moon knight fic #steven grant fic #moon knight fanfic #Moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x gender neutral reader #ao3 #jake lockley #marc spector #layla el faouly #khonshu #khonshu x reader #steven grant #steven grant my beloved #TippingTheScales #TTS

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