#Moon Knight fan fiction

[auntie-venom]

Fan Fiction Recommendations

I figured I’d take the time to put down some of my favorite fan fictions for anyone who wants them. I am only putting up completed series, with a few exceptions. And I’ll add more as I think about it. Make sure to give the authors lots of love! They deserve it!

Also, let me know if any links do not work.

Star Wars

✶ Alpha-17 ✶

➤ Alpha-17/Female Reader

Yours

By @wanderinginksplot

Rating: Teen and Mature Reader was assigned to Kamino to do some administrative work for the senate, and when her presence draws some of the clones to try their inexperienced flirting with her Alpha volunteers to scare them away. This story single-handedly turned my attention towards Alpha works. It is a slow burn filled with great banter and I really enjoy Alpha’s characterization here.

➤ Alpha-17/Female Reader

Alpha & “Doc”

By @wings-and-beskar

Rating: Explicit Reader attempts to have a peaceful shower but has to deal with Alpha-17’s presence and persistence to be around her. Absolutely sexy series that I hope gets more fics added to it! Just Alpha’s begging alone in the second story had me faint.

✶ Rex ✶

➤ Rex/Female Reader

Hierarchy of Needs

By @zinzinina

Rating: Explicit Reader is a Jedi on a mission with Rex when a toxin affects them both causing them both to seek relief. Fuck-or-die? YES, PLEASE! I love this trope, ESPECIALLY when it is written as well as this. It is sexy, passionate, filled with yearning, and we end on a sweet note, which I love. 

➤ Rex/Original Female Character

Stories

By @aggy72

Rating: Explicit Cori is a documentarian and follows the adventures of the 501st where the Captain unexpectedly falls for her. Filled with great relationships, banter, and found family, this is a truly beautiful saga of love and perseverance

✶ Wolffe ✶

➤ Wolffe/Female Reader

A New Tomorrow

By @enigmaticexplorer

Rating: Mature and Explicit Reader does a favor for Plo Koon where she ends up as Commander Wolffe’s assistant and they do not like each other. This is a slow-burn, tension-filled, antagonists-to-lovers series that had me in a chokehold for a week while I read it. I laughed, I cried, I stared out a window and thought for hours about it. Alli writes Wolffe so well and I can’t recommend her enough.

➤ Wolffe/Female Reader (Original Female Character)

No Strings Attached

By @cyarbika

Rating: Explicit Reader/Cherise is the owner of 79’s and Wolffe is a cocky asshole that just pisses her off. This series has made me cry and text my IRL friends to rant and rave. Phenomenal Wolffe characterization and beautiful writing. Has antagonists-to-lovers where he falls first she falls harder. Please read it so we can talk about it.

➤ Wolffe/Original Female Character

I Need You

By @ulchabhangorm

Rating: Explicit Sadhbh struggles to keep her growing feelings with Wolffe hidden after they originally agreed to be just friends with benefits. This fic is filled with yearning and passion and completely hooked me! The whole series of one shots have me eagerly waiting for the full Sadhbh/Wolffe story that Maia is writing and I cannot get enough!

✶ Wolffe and Fox ✶ (No Clonecest)

➤ Fox/Female Reader, Wolffe/Female Reader (No Clonecest)

I trust him, and he trusts me

By @enigmaticexplorer

Rating: Explicit Reader is in a relationship with Fox when Wolffe interrupts an intimate moment and it sets in motion a new dynamic. This sexy oneshot explores the way trust translates into intimacy and I related to it on a molecular level. Hot and sweet, just how I like it.

✶ Fox ✶

➤ Fox/Female Reader

Shadow Play

By @wizardofrozz

Rating: Explicit Reader is a senator and is in a secret relationship with Fox, and they have a pretty public fuck. This is just such a hot oneshot.

➤ Fox/Original Female Character

After a Fashion

By @aggy72

Rating: Explicit Sylvi is the designer who makes all of Senator Amidala’s wonderful gowns, and she keeps running into the very stern Commander Fox. This story, as with most of Aggy’s fics, has a chokehold on me. The fic is beautiful story of love filled with banter and phenomenal characterizations.

✶ Gregor ✶

➤ Gregor/Original Female Character

The Deal

By @aggy72

Rating: Explicit Ashla is the chosen medical carer for Skirata’s commandos and is lovingly set up with Gregor by her new chosen family. this story is filled with love, angst, and family that warm my soul! Aggy really has a way to my heart with her stories.

✶ Kix ✶

➤ Kix/Original Female Character

Martyrs and Kings 

By @dystopicjumpsuit

Rating: Explicit Dr. Maree Finnall helps Kix find answers to what happened to his long-lost brothers after he wakes fifty years into the future. While it is a love story, Kix is rightfully filled with angst. Seeing him work through his grief of losing his brothers while being the last clone standing is heart wrenching. 

✶ Fives ✶

➤ Fives/Female Reader

Heartbeat

by @ariadnes-red-thread

Rating: Explicit Reader and Fives are trapped with death coming for them and they take to opportunity to die without regrets. The passion and tension of this oneshot is delicious!

✶ Tech ✶

➤ Tech/Female Reader

Scientific Purposes

By @doublesunsets

Rating: Explicit Reader discovers Tech accidentally recorded a private moment of hers and when confronted she challenges his claim that it was for scientific purposes. Author plays into Tech’s curious nature and uses reader’s body for discoveries. It is hot and has great back and forth between Tech and Reader.

➤ Tech/Female Reader

the beast against the wall

By buryustogether

Rating: Explicit Tech is exposed to a toxin when he protects Reader that makes him lose his inhibitions. Phenomenal sex pollen story that leads to a feral Tech, and I am OBSESSED.

➤ Tech/Female Reader

The Quarry

By Littlelady1121

Rating: Mature Reader is a target to bring in to Cid, but there is more to her than it seems. Minor slowburn with a wonderful found family story with great characterizations. 

➤ Tech/Female Reader

Nighttime Variations

By @bring-backup-99

Rating: Explicit Reader meets Tech when he stays at her inn, and they hit it off. This is a great balance of sexy and sweet! She does a great characterization of Tech and if you like her work and want to get kinkier I’d recommend her Bad Choices series as well. 

➤ Tech/Female Reader

Quick And Dirty

By @eyecandyeoz

Rating: Explicit Reader helps Tech do repairs, and clean up afterward. Sexy one shot with some fun back and forth between our favorite info dumper! Candy has a bunch of hot one shots and gorgeous artwork as well!

✶ Howzer ✶

➤ Howzer/Female Reader

Doctor’s Orders

By @grampsoninspace

Rating: Explicit Captain Howzer is a cocky flirt to the Reader Medic, and it goes his way. This was fun to see a lee burdened more flirtatious Howzer and had some great tension building with some hot smut!

✶ Cassian Andor ✶

➤ Cassian Andor/Original Female Character

Starlight

By @joeybelle

Rating: Explicit While on a mission Cassian gets strong-armed into helping a medic escape the Empire, and it doesn't go to her plans at all. Slow burn and tension galore, along with angst. The sequel is unfinished but I hope upon hope one day she will continue it!

✶ Din Djarin ✶

➤ Din Djarin/Female Reader

Rough Day

By @no-droids

Rating: Explicit Reader signed up to be Grogu’s babysitter and got involved in a fuckfest with the kid’s father. The tiktok famous porn with plot, Mando fic everyone talks about. It truly is a well-written story amongst the smut!

➤ Din Djarin/Female Reader

Be-all and Endor

By: @djarins-cyare

Rating: Explicit Reader is a technician on Endor when the Mandalorian crosses her path and she decides to help him Insanely well-written saga that explores culture and the universe of Star Wars.

✶ Poe Dameron ✶

➤ Poe Dameron/Female Reader

Nine

By @foxilayde

Rating: Explicit Sexy oneshot of a boiling point moment between friends Poe and Reader and then it's just smut central. Love the banter and the idiots-in-love so much.

➤ Poe Dameron/Female Reader

The Bet

By @no-droids 

Rating: Explicit Poe and Reader make a bet on who can stay abstinent the longest, when they try to get the other to fold the tension begins to snap. One of the hottest smut fics I’ve ever read. I use this as a way to convince my IRL friends to start reading fanfiction.

➤ Poe Dameron/Female Reader

Directions

By @zinzinina

Rating: Explicit Reader admits shes never climaxed with a partner before and Poe is determined to change that. This is a beautifully written friends to lovers smut oneshot that I just love to bits.

Moon Knight

✶ Steven Grant and Marc Spector ✶

➤ Steven Grant/Female Reader, Marc Spector/Female Reader

Red Flags

By @astroboots and @thirstworldproblemss

Rating: Explicit Fantastically written story about dating Steven while not knowing about Marc (and Jake) and all the red flags with dating someone hiding a part of themselves. Full stop my favorite Moon Knight fic to date, and I even make my non-fanfiction reader friends read it.

➤ Steven Grant/Female Reader, Marc Spector/Female Reader

fallen from heaven, grown on earth

By davosmymaster

Rating: Mature Marc asks his long-time friend to watch over Steven as he lets him be the primary front. Reader falls in love with Steven after pining over Marc their entire relationship and it causes some ANGST. Lots of yearning and a happy ending.

➤ Steven Grant/Female Reader, Marc Spector/Female Reader

Stuck

By @zinzinina

Rating: Explicit Reader stops by Steven’s place to bring him his lost badge when Marc answers the door and seduces her. Just a sexy little two-shot that I like to reread a lot.

✶ Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley ✶

➤ Steven Grant/Female Reader, Marc Spector/Female Reader, Jake Lockley/Female Reader

Gift of Min

By @astroboots and @thirstworldproblemss

Rating: Explicit An ancient aphrodisiac spirit is released and reader has to help Steven through it. Another fantastic piece of work form these two, and it is in one of my top five tropes! Absolutely so hot and passionate.

Triple Frontier

✶ Francisco "Catfish" Morales ✶

➤ Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Female Reader 

Something New

By @prolix-yuy

Rating: Explicit Reader hires a sex worker after a period of loneliness brought on by divorce. This whole series is absolutely soft and wholesome while being so sexy.

Kingsman

✶ Jack “Whiskey” Daniels ✶

➤ Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/Female Reader

Whiskey & Westworld

By @prolix-yuy

Rating: Explicit A universe where the Kingsman characters are robots in the Westworld Theme Park when Reader comes to visit. This story is so well written and the tension build-up is delicious.

➤ Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/Female Reader

Harder to Hold

By @brandyllyn

Rating: Explicit Reader becomes the seduction target of Jack Daniels and she doesn’t understand why. The sexiness and espionage in this fic is so fun!

Ghostbusters

✶ Egon Spengler ✶

➤ Egon Spengler/Female Reader

Masters of Sex (The Mood Slime Experiments)

By @psychokinetic-ectoplasm

Rating: Explicit Reader helps out Egon with the mood slime experiments. Just gloriously filthy smut that develops into feelings.  

Dragon Age

✶ The Iron Bull ✶

➤ Iron Bull/Original Female Character

Gina and the Iron Bull

By Lexi Banner (jinbaittai)

Rating: Explicit After an accident in another universe, a woman ends up in Thedas during the time of the Inquisition. I am a SUCKER for someone falling into another universe, and this is a long hot romance.

✶ Cullen Rutherford ✶

➤ Cullen Rutherford/Female Commander Shepard 

The Two Commanders

By Katieee

Rating: Explicit When Commander Shepard destroys the reapers, she wakes up to find herself in Thedas where her biotics are mistaken for magic. Again, I love fish-out-of-water stories where someone from a different universe ends up in another, and I also love to see Shepard be a badass. Takes place over a series of years and is just a fun read.

#fan fiction recommendations #Fan Fiction #fan fic recs #fan fiction recs #Fanfiction #fan fic rec #star wars fan fiction #Star Wars #Dragon Age Fanfiction #Dragon Age #Kingsmen Fan fiction #Kingsmen #Ghostbusters Fan Fiction #Ghostbusters #Triple Frontier Fan FIction #Triple Frontier #Moon Knight Fan Fiction #Moon Knight #The Mandalorian Fan Fiction #The Mandalorian #The Clone Wars Fan Fiction #The Clone Wars #The Bad Batch Fanfiction #The Bad Batch #Andor Fan Fiction #Andor #Rogue One Fanfiction #Rouge One #Alpha-17 #alpha 17 x reader

[jakelockleysdoll]

Popstar 🪩✨

headcanon: how the moon boys would be if you were a popstar

pairing: Jake Lockley x reader, Marc Spector x reader; established relationship

Warnings: smut, suggestive language, swear words, anxiety, panicking

18+ only!!!!

- side note: grammar isn’t my biggest concern, didn’t realise how similar of an approach I took for both Jake and Marc until now, hope that’s okay bb’s xx -

I imagined wearing Sabrina Carpenters recent tour outfits for this!

In no way is she associated with the story, I am solely using her outfits as inspiration, that is it. I do not mean any sexualisation or harm to and of her. I fully respect her as a human being. Please take in the outfits and the outfits ALONE as inspiration, as I am! respect women and their bodies <3

Jake

MY GOD. this man. He would be all over you as a popstar. He’s completely obsessed and is head over heels in love with you. He would help you get dressed and touch up your hair backstage. “you’re gonna do so well, amor” he says, reassuring you as you begin to have anxiety before your performance. “just think about how much they love you”. Jake seeing you in the outfit above takes everything in him not to rip your white lace tights off and fuck you right on the spot. he couldn’t take it anymore, and would absolutely take you inside a private room and have you bent over. “don’t let them hear you, Amor” he says smirking. It takes everything in him not to do it all over again, seeing the way you’re dolled up. He absolutely respects what you want to wear, in love with each look of yours, though from time to time he’ll ask you to wear the same outfit but in red / pink / whatever he wants. he helps pick out your clothes, the man loves to dress you. He absolutely loves seeing you dolled up, and seeing how passionate you are about what you do. it makes him happy that you’re happy. When you feel anxiety starts to creep up before stage, he one hundred percent will reassure you are going to be okay using physical affection- make out seshes backstage, sweet praises, telling you how good you look while his hands explore your body. He loved having you a moaning mess before you headed on to stage. Seeing you on stage is another thing. He’s obsessed with every word you say, your voice, the way you’re dancing sensually, the way your lips move. the man is crazy in love. Take a good guess of what he does backstage when you’ve completed your set.

Marc

MARC. Marc would help you take out the rollers in your hair, as he admires you in the mirror, a full face, hair in rollers, sitting in your white silk robe. “you look absolutely stunning, baby” he says with his thick accent, as he turns you around and caresses your thigh with strong eye contact. You make him wait outside to change because you wanted to surprise him. “my angel…” he whispers in disbelief as he sees you for the first time, and will do this each performance night, even if it’s the same look he’s seen, because he’ll never get enough of you, and is always in disbelief that you are his. (you would have to resist him being in your changing room a thousand times, knowing how it’s going to end) “Come here” he’d leave kisses everywhere along your chest and arms. He absolutely loves it when you wear corsets and thigh high socks / boots, it drives him wild. If you’re open to it, he’d ask if he can make you feel good, fingers interlocked, as he goes down on you in your dressing room, to relieve the stress he knew you were feeling. Plus he couldnt wait any longer, seeing your glowy Victoria secret model inspired makeup paired with your confidence turned him on. “Let me make you feel good, baby”. He loved everything about you, the sweet scent you were wearing drove him insane, as he caresses your arms and takes your forearm to smell and kiss, as he towers over you. God, they would both absolutely tower over you and you loved every second of it. He’s quick to pick up when something’s wrong, he would absolutely shower you in forehead kisses, reassuring everything is going to be fine and you’re going to kill it out there. He would for sure bring up evidence on why he knows you’re gonna do so well, bringing up the previous rehearsals he wouldn’t dare to miss (no matter how long they were, he loved hearing you and watching you sing and work) and saying how angelic you sounded in them, and that you were gonna sound just as beautiful on stage, possibly even more “if it’s humanly possible” he says. When you’re verbally panicking, marc would respond to every sentence you blurb out, out of stress and anxiety. “I’m gonna fall over” “I’ll catch you, baby” “what if they laugh at me” “they’re here to support you” “what if I muck up the lyrics” “then that’s okay, it’s okay to make mistakes” he says as he has you sitting on a platform, him standing between your legs and caressing your hair. he would be so reassuring and loving. As you’re performing, he would look at you like you hung up the stars for him. He would be in absolute awe of you, and still cannot believe you are real, sharing your light with this earth. He scans you, and reads you like a book. he can tell when you’re getting nervous, and will mouth sweet words to you “it’s okay, baby” “you’re alright” as he gives you a reassuring look. He’s obsessed and loves the way your legs look on stage, decorated in lace, glowing in the beautiful light. you would dance sensually, being the biggest tease to him knowing he’s watching your every move, and knowing damn well what he’s going to do to you right after you finish your performance. “you did so good, baby” he kisses you on the forehead. “now I’m gonna show you what happens to brats when they tease me like that” he says smirking, grabbing your hand and leading you to your room. afterwards, he’d lean onto you, caressing your face, looking into your eyes and admiring your features, telling you how proud he is of you. His brows are furrowed, eyes on your lips, caressing it with his thumb pad “you were incredible, baby”.

thank you for reading xoxo mwahh 🎀

#jake lockley #marc spector #fluff #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #jake lockley imagine #Jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #headcanon #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fan fiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #Jake lockley fanfic #Jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector x y/n #marc spector y/n #Jake lockley x y/n #Jake lockley y/n #y/n #moon knight imagine #moon knight headcanon #moon knight HC #marc spector fluff #marc spector smut #Jake lockley fluff #Jake lockley smut

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Let Us Take Care of You - Moon Knight

Summary:

Reader is recovering from surgery and the Moon Boys are helping to look after her. Frustrations erupt when she makes a bad decision, and a truth from the Moon Boy's past is revealed (it explains a lot of their behaviour in this fic). Angst, emotional Moon Boys, fluff in the end. One use of the F word.

Notes:

Purely self indulgent! I wrote this four days after I had to have some fairly intense surgery, and Moon Knight was still being released weekly at the time and I really needed to have our Moon Boys looking after me. Descriptions are based on exactly how things felt to me at the time. Not Beta read, all strange occurrences are my fault! Posted on AO3 Here!

Steven had left you in bed with a promise to take the fastest shower he could. He was worried about leaving you at all, but they hadn’t even had the presence of mind to change their clothes since you were rushed into hospital 3 days earlier.

So when Steven opened the bathroom door to find the bed empty, worry was already creeping through his veins. It was replaced by the icy cold rush of panic and adrenaline when he heard a crash and a sharp cry of pain from the direction of the kitchen.

The events of the last few days had given the three of them many reasons to be grateful for the athletic condition their body remained in (thanks to their service with Khonshu, although that was a delicate topic right now), and as his legs gave an incredible burst of speed and his brain automatically steered him clear of obstacles Steven wondered if part of the power came from having two other people feeding energy and control into the body.

When he rounded the corner and found you hunched over against the kitchen counter, barely holding yourself up and your fingers in a white knuckled death-grip, he felt the blood drain from his face. Your name erupted from his lips in sheer panic.

“Oh God, love, what happened?” He’s doubled over beside you, his terrified eyes staring up into your face as one hand grips your elbow and the other tries to wrap around your shoulders.

Needless to say he’s shocked when you try to shake him off, your face screwed up against the pain in your abdomen and your breath coming in and out of your nose in short, sharp bursts. He notices the glitter of tears on your eyelashes. 

“I’m fine.” you grind out through gritted teeth. Your bravery is betrayed by faint tremors running through your body.

“What do you need me to do, darling?” The front of Steven’s body is pressed against your side, like he’s protecting you from an armed intruder, the grip of his arm around your shoulders and his hand on your elbow is firm. Through the pulsing red haze and burning heat of shock and pain, his presence is too much for your already overwhelmed senses to handle right now. The humiliation is starting to set in and with everything else it’s making you short tempered.

You try to push him away, but the movement sends another sickening flair of pain through your body and you can’t stop the choked whimper that escapes. Your name sounds broken on his lips as he almost whispers it.

“Just back off!” you snap, and you don’t miss the hurt that briefly crosses his face. Guilt prickles in your chest. “Please…” you add weakly. There’s a pause, and you work to fight away the pulsing darkness at the corners of your vision.

“Would you please let me help you? Please?” Steven implores softly as he puts a half-step of space between your bodies. His impossibly dark eyes are almost desperate as his hands move, one makes a warm presence as it strokes your back, and the other carefully pries your tense hand from the work top and grasps it. You can see his deep need to care for you, to protect you from harm, glittering in his eyes.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to just sit around and have you guys run around after me.” You grind out, trying to ignore the screaming agony and flashing lights dancing across your vision.

“C’mon, love, it’s not like that. And it won’t be for long, you’ll be back up ‘n’ at ‘em before you know it.” Steven’s slightly-shaky words are meant to bring reassurance, but instead the pain and frustration digs itself in deeper and your temper gets the better of you.

“I can take care of myself! They said I only needed help for the first 24 hours. I’m already messing with your life. I’m not enslaving you to me like Khonshu-“ you felt the change before you saw or heard it.

“-For Christ’s sake you had emergency surgery three days ago!” Marc’s voice comes out in a harsh burst. You flinch slightly, sending pain through your body again, but you hear the fear behind his words. His hand on your back has stilled, the other is gripping yours tighter than Steven had.You can feel his strong pulse through your gripped hands, competing with your own racing heart. Suddenly you’re beyond overwhelmed, tears pricking harshly at your eyes as the pain seems to be refusing to settle and a strange mix of anxiety and anger bubbles in your chest at Marc’s reaction. Your legs have started to feel strange, like they’re being burnt but are numb at the same time, and there’s a blinding pressure building somewhere behind your eye sockets.

“Yeah, three days ago-” you challenge, only to be cut off by Marc.

“-They said you couldn’t be left alone for 24 hours! You’re signed off work for two weeks, and you’ve got 3 months of physio!”

His response, although factually correct, hits a nerve and your frustration explodes out of you in one last burst of energy. “Right I’ll just sit around like the damsel in distress so you can play hero! They said I could move around by myself after the first 24 hours, I just wanted make a fucking drink like a normal person!” The pain is still raging, your entire body tight like a strained rubber band, your breathing short and sharp. Yelling has used up the last of your energy reserves and you feel both the light-headed swirl of impending unconsciousness, and the prickling burn of a complete emotional meltdown coursing through your bloodstream.

Marc lets out a huff of air through his nose. For a moment he’s quiet, and you know he’s studying you, assessing how you’re doing. Maybe Steven and Jake are talking to him, because his hand resumes a gentle motion up and down your back and his voice is softer when he speaks again. Your eyes burn with tears and you have a futile hope that none are escaping.

 “I know baby, I know. Breathe through it, it’ll get better in a minute.” You find yourself starting to time your breaths to the motions of his hand on your back - no doubt his intention - and slowly the impending darkness and flashing lights fade out as the pain recedes from a raging inferno to a persistent stabbing feeling.

After several long, tense minutes, you attempt to stand more upright. You make it nowhere near fully straight, that will take days - maybe weeks - yet, but you get far enough to look into your boyfriend’s dark eyes. The fear is still there, but the shock and mis-placed aggression has gone.

“Do you think you can move to the table?” He asks gently, and you’re glad he’s giving you the agency to move by yourself rather than just telling you what to do or manhandling you himself. You take another couple of deep breaths and nod.

He slowly guides you to sit in the nearest chair at the kitchen table, one hand at your elbow, the other on your lower back. He never applies any pressure, just maintains an alert closeness as you make your way to the chair on your own terms.

When you finally reach the seat, Marc helps to lower you down into it, taking the vast majority of your weight and accounting for your inability to bend (or straighten) the middle of your body and your shaky legs. His eyes dart around your form constantly as he gets you settled. Under his -unintentional- scrutiny you feel the need to explain yourself.

“I just wanted to make some tea. I tried to reach up for the tea bags, but it hurt really suddenly and I knocked the mug off the counter and it was instinct to try and catch it... I didn’t think about it…” Your voice is small. Marc’s raised voice and outburst has made you edgy on top of the shock of the incident itself, and the pain has made you feel unsteady and sick. You suddenly realise just how rough you actually feel.

Marc sighs as he drops to a crouch beside you. He knows he’d be exactly the same, refusing to be helpless in any way. Hell, he knows he was exactly the same back when he was a mercenary, before Konshu and the suit.

“I get it, I do. But you gotta be patient. It wasn’t exactly minor surgery and you’re still on the heavy drugs. We can’t risk messing up the repairs they’ve done, and there’s no need to make it worse for yourself when we can help-”

“- I don’t want you all to-” you begin, shaking your head but Marc is already gesturing for you to stop.

“- don’t, baby, please. We can’t bear to see you hurting, especially when we’re right here and can help you so much if you’ll let us.” The burning compassion in his eyes kills the response you were formulating. You suddenly find yourself unable to meet his eyes.

Marc’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones and swiping away the wetness of traitorous tears. He looks -and sounds- close to crying himself. “Alright. I need to check your stitches, is that ok?”

You nod silently. Marc softly runs his hands down your arms, then carefully pulls up your shirt and delicately checks for any damage. There’s a long, stressful silence as Marc carefully manipulates the dressing on your stomach to see your wound better. You clench your teeth and focus on breathing evenly to prevent a whimper from escaping your throat.

“Looks okay, just a bit raw from the sudden movement.” Marc confirms finally, and as he lays gentle fingers against your skin to check for signs of internal bleeding or infection, you find yourself blurting out what’s currently on your mind.

“Is Steven freaking out?”

He glances up at the mirror, then focuses back on you. “Yeah. You know how he is.” His answer is surprisingly honest, and suddenly his head jerks up again, staring into the mirror steadily.

Marc is silent for a moment too long, glaring into the reflection of the mirror on the wall behind you. “What’s he saying?” You ask, an edge to your voice. Marc shakes his head, an annoyed look crossing his face. “It’s not Steven.” You blink. You’d only met Jake once.

Marc had fallen badly ill and wouldn’t accept any help. With a raging fever, violent cough and unable to keep any food or water down, Steven wasn’t able to convince Marc to either give up the body or accept help, and Marc was still the strongest of the alters when it came to control of the body. When it reached four days of not eating, the fever still hadn’t broken and Marc was no longer coherent. He was weak enough that Jake finally managed to take over. The two of you had spoken very little, with Jake struggling to maintain their failing body and only conscious long enough to refuse professional medical help and request whatever he felt they needed to get better (electrolyte drinks at first, then meal replacement shakes, and eventually soup. Open the window - another blanket - close the window - take the blanket away - around and around.). On the sixth day the fever broke, and finally on the eighth day an exhausted Jake surrendered the body to Steven, who carried them over the line to recovery.

“Okay, what’s Jake saying?”

A muscle is twitching in Marc’s jaw. “He wants to help.”

“Fine.” You manage a small shrug, tiredness starting to take over.

Marc gives a sharp shake of his head. “No. I don’t trust him.”

By now you’ve had enough. Your elbow thuds onto the table, forearm upright to support your heavy head as you drop your forehead into your open palm. Your other arm has found its own way to drape protectively around your swollen, sore abdomen. Staring at the floorboards you grind out “What the fuck is he gonna do Marc? Put a bullet in my head to put me out of my misery? Jesus, just let him help if he wants to. But if you and Steven want to take all the responsibility for putting up with your useless lump of a partner then… Whatever.”

Marc is silent for an unexpected length of time. You don’t really care to notice, the haze of an abused body making you miserable and strangely detached. Your attention is busy floating off somewhere outside your body when movement catches your eye and your boyfriend shifts to kneel right in front of you. His warm hand rests gently on your knee, and when he dips his head down to gaze up into your face it isn’t Marc you see. It isn’t Steven either.

You lift your head slightly. “Jake?”

Jake’s expression is sombre. “Honey, you’re not a ‘useless lump’, you’re recovering from some pretty heavy surgery.”

Your expression is almost dead, but tears spring to your eyes again as you tilt your head towards the smashed mug “kinda useless -“ then gesture towards your uncomfortably swollen stomach “- kinda lumpy.”

Jake looks incredibly sad. You suddenly wonder how many times he’s heard Marc’s internalised self-hatred, whether he tried to comfort him only to find himself talking to a metaphorical brick wall. He gently squeezes your thigh. “I know it sucks right now, okay? I know you’re uncomfortable, and in pain, and I know it’s wearing you out.” He pauses, and you can see the minuscule movement of his throat as he swallows.  “We know you’ve been struggling for a while, even before the surgery, and not just with the physical stuff. We can see it. But we really want to help, honey. We’d put you in the suit if we could, I swear. So please let us help however we actually can?”

You find yourself having to divert your gaze from his, reminded too much of the fear in Steven and Marc’s eyes earlier.

“Honey?” Damn Jake and his incredible perceptiveness. You sigh.

“Is… I’m sorry I made Marc angry.”

You see Jake’s startled recoil in your peripheral vision. You feel it in your soul. Then he’s leaning in closer again, his hand squeezing your thigh so firmly you wonder if Marc is back. The voice that whispers your name like a prayer is all Jake, though.

“You - you didn’t make him angry, honey. He just - we just need to make sure you're okay.”

You don’t answer, and there’s a few beats of silence before Jake lets out a sigh like he’s been holding his breath for hours. He shifts his weight slightly, and on the edge of your gaze you see his head drop.

“There was no care for us, no-one to make sure we were okay when we were growing up. Marc especially took the worst of it - and there was no help for him when he was in pain, no-one to try to ease his suffering other than me and Steven, but it’s the same body so it wasn’t ever really a relief. We still feel the pain even when we’re not in control, y’know?”

Your brain boggles at his words. You notice him nod his head slightly, you wonder if he’s talking to the others in the headspace, then he raises his head with a movement so decisive you can practically feel the resolve rolling off him in waves.

“And it terrifies us to think that you might feel the same way - that you might be hurting, or scared, or just down, and think there’s no-one to help. Because we will do anything, give anything for you. So please, please let us help you. Please?”

You lift your head, stunned. Jake’s face is so sincere, the tears that threatened to fall earlier start to trickle down your cheeks in earnest. Jake's thumb is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he patiently waits for your answer. Unable to find words, you slowly nod. He nods in response; a small, lopsided smile easing the tense lines of his face.

“It’s not forever. I know it feels like it right now, but they said you can go back to work in two weeks. And I think that means we have an excuse to spend some quality downtime together, y’know?” Jake’s thick accent adds a suggestive edge to his words.

A bark of a laugh escapes you, and you feel the tension in your face ease slightly. “Well.. We can’t do that until at least week four, so you’re out of luck there.”

A stricken look passes across Jake’s face in a flash, but he quickly smothers it with a smirk. You feel a frown twitch through your eyebrows before Jake speaks again. “Damn, I guess we’ll have to get started on that ‘watch list’ we’ve been making. And the doctor said to eat whatever you want, whenever you want while you’re on those good drugs, so I really hope you want a lot of take-out…”

You snort out a laugh but it’s short lived, the mirth washing away like the tide. That look you caught sight of is bothering you. “Jake… what was that look just now?”

Jake feigns innocence. He’s terrible at it. “What look?”

“Just now, right after I said we couldn’t…” You trail off leadingly. He doesn’t take the bait.

“You mean my sexy look?” Jake wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. A smile breaks across your face but it’s fleeting and you’re not letting this drop. Your tone is almost one of warning.

“Jake…”

The look on your face seems to say more than your words or tone ever could. Jake sighs and drops his gaze to the floor. When he looks up at you again a few seconds later, his expression is serious.

“I wasn’t suggesting that. I wasn’t even thinking about it -”

“-Jake -”

“ - I would never think that was okay. Not right now. Not any time you're hurt, or just don’t want to -”

“ - Jake - “

 “ - You know that right?”

You sigh. Jake’s being so powerfully sincere it feels like all three of them are speaking to you as one. Maybe they are. You gently cup his face in your hands, having to use your grip to pull him closer as you can’t bend nearer to him. He follows willingly, kneeling up to bring his face an inch from yours, his hands snugly tucked against the chair under your thighs so he doesn’t put any pressure on your body at all.

“I know. and thank you, all of you.”

He genuinely looks confused. “What for?”

“Everything.” Giving him no chance to argue, you press a -very gentle - kiss to his lips. His response is so careful it makes you want to cry again, especially when he eases away after just a few seconds. Resting his forehead against yours, your entire vision is swallowed by his deep, incredibly dark eyes as he murmurs. “Siempre, mi angel.”

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #Moon Knight fan fiction #Moon Knight fanfic #Moon Knight fan fic #steven grant #marc spector #Jake Lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #Steven Grant Angst #Marc Spector Angst #jake lockley angst #Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac Character

[brockify]

heaven’s cloud— steven grant

steven grant x barista!gn reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: the tiniest bit of angst, sleepy steven, fluff, steven w/ sweater paws BEWARE

note: this takes place at the beginning of ep 1 so no mentions of mk shenanigans or marc but hints at it!

“london fog with extra vanilla!”

hearing the order that steven knew by heart, he wiped the sleep from his eyes with his sweater sleeve.

truth be told, steven liked tea, but it wasn’t what truly woke him up. if he had it his way, he’d drink the strongest mocha he could ever have made but he had a special reason for always getting the same drink.

that reason was you. watching you make his drink every morning made his days slightly better. some days you’d look a little disheveled after pulling an all-nighter from watching your new favorite actor’s movies, and others with you being energetic after having slept more than a few hours.

today you seemed more tired than normal, (perhaps you had slept late again? he knew you were currently on a tv show binge) or perhaps you had just woken up earlier than usual. walking over to the counter, steven grabbed his cup before giving you a small smile while you made one of the long line of drinks waiting for you.

“cheers.”

you watched steven leave the store, humming a tune that you couldn’t quite place where you had heard it before. steven was one of your favorite customers who came in everyday. most mornings it wasn’t too busy, and you were able to chat with him about everything and anything. your current topic of discussions in the morning were about best book adaptations into film. depending on the day, he’d stand there next to the pickup counter while you worked and made the orders, and others you would chat while ringing his order up.

you weren’t sure why steven always picked the same drink everyday, but it did make it easier for you to predict and ring up.

today was unusual though, as it had been the first time you had seen him in over a week. the dark circles under his eyes became more prominent, seemingly protruding outwards in some angles. He also barely conversed with you, and started to fall asleep on the pick up counter.

you were worried, hoping that nothing was going on that was stressing him out. it was known to your coworkers and every other usual who came around that you and steven had a very… interesting relationship. Everyone assumed you two were together, both of you ignoring the other’s flushed faces and reddened ears when stating you were just friends. you had hoped that he would come back soon, and look a little more like his normal self to ease your nerves a little.

3 weeks had gone by since the last steven sighting and you were concerned. you woke up extra early today, wrapping a present that you had bought him. it was simple, but you had hoped it would lift his spirits a little. in the box, you had folded the new slate cardigan you had bought him, with little clouds embroidered on it. you had also put a card in, a little anxious about the card and its contents, but pushing through nevertheless. you noticed that he typically cycled through the same 4 shirts and wanted to give him something that you thought fit his vibe.

you were thankful that you had the day off of work, and also grateful that you had your own little coffee station in your apartment, albeit less expensive and complicated than the one at your job. quickly whipping up a coffee for yourself, you drank the steaming mug while getting ready to go visit the gallery. your conversations with steven had ventured into talk about work before, which is why you knew where he worked and what department.

checking the time, you quickly ran out of the house to catch the bus, not wanting to miss it. you were able to snag a seat, happy not to have to stand the entire ride smushed against another stranger. you weren’t sure how it happened, but you found yourself dozing off, only to hear the automated voice state that the next stop was for the gallery. you quickly gathered your stuff together, and pulled on the signal cord as fast as you could. The bus came to a halt, swaying everyone forward with the force of the brakes. getting up from the seat, you made your way to the doors with a series of “excuse me” and “my apologies”.

stepping off the bus you stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the entrance. hanging from the top of the building you could see banners posted for the new ennead exhibit they were hosting. tightening your grip on the box ever so slightly, you took a deep breath before walking up the stairs. at the entrance you stood there, not sure if you should ask for directions but figured you’d walk around until you found him. that is if you found him.

you ended up walking around the entire gallery, enamored by the exhibits and all of the little plaques explaining each item in detail. you finally made it to the gift shop area, where you saw a tuft of hair that was eerily familiar. steven was sitting in a chair that he had found behind his counter, arms covering his face. his woven beige sleeves seemed to act as a pillow for his face, and you could hear the soft snores emitted from him.

letting out a soft giggle, you looked around the gift shop before grabbing the taweret plush and walking over to the counter. placing the neatly wrapped box, you tapped ever so slightly on steven’s head. he jolted awake, nearly jumping out of his own skin.

“oh my days, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

he wiped the sleepiness out of his eyes, and his breath hitched slightly when he saw you standing in front of him holding the plush. he knew you were aware of where he worked, but he had never thought that you might show up one day.

“oh, hullo.”

you raised an eyebrow at him which in turn made him let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck out of habit.”

“steven, i’m so glad you’re alright. you had me worried sick! i haven’t seen you in weeks!”

he grimaced slightly knowing that he didn’t know how to explain his sudden absences. he seemed to sleep for days, and had to double check his ankle restraints. recently things had gotten…weirder in his life, strange occurrences happening that even he wasn’t sure truly happened. his gaze landed on you gently, trying to gauge your emotions through your eyes.

“I'm truly sorry I worried you love, it’s just been busy.”

letting out a particularly loud exhale you shook your head and gave him a small smile.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

steven kept his gaze on your eyes only to find understanding and a warmth that brought him comfort.

he nodded, and snapped out of his daze before realizing you were holding the plush and had a neatly wrapped box on the counter. pinching the taweret plush from your hands he quickly scanned it before pointing to the box.

“What's the box for?”

you had forgotten all about the box and the present you had gotten him inside.

“oh! it’s uhm for you.”

you slid the box towards him, not making any eye contact and opting instead to look around the shop once more, ignoring the tips of your ears burning.

steven placed the plush on the counter and picked up the box. he admired the wrapping, a light blue wrapping paper that was admittedly very simple but made his heart flutter, seeing the scribble of his name written at the top.

he smiled his big smile that he always made when he was content or excited (something you loved to see) and placed the box next to his bag.

“thank you. i’m sure it’s very lovely. you didn’t have to get me anything though. your banter and wit are more than enough for me.”

shuffling through your wallet, you picked your card out handing it to him.

“It's no problem really, I just thought you might enjoy a pick me up!”

he swiped your card and printed the receipt before asking for your signature.

“I promise I'll open it the moment I get home and I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

hearing him say he was going to see you tomorrow made you nod and hide your smile, feeling a little silly for acting like a child with their first crush.

“sounds good. I have a few errands to run but i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

he nodded and waved you off, watching you exit the gallery with the taweret plush in hand.

he would never admit it, but steven rushed home for the first time in a long while. he was staring at the gift all day, trying not to open it then and there at work. even donna had noticed that he was in a more cheerful mood, making a comment about how he was finally doing his job right. finally getting into his apartment, he threw his shoes off and tossed his bag to the side.

taking the gift to his dining table, he set it down before looking for a pair of scissors. after a few minutes of rummaging through drawers he finally found a pair and made his way back. steven tried his hardest not to rip the wrapping paper, but to be fair it was just so quick to rip so it hadn’t been his fault when he tore it to shreds.

the box was an ordinary box, taped on the top just to have it not open. cutting the tape, he opened the flaps to reveal the cardigan you had bought him, folded neatly with a card atop it.

pulling out both the card and cardigan he placed then on the table before opening the card. inside the card you had written him a note, and made him smile.

the note read: “hope these keep you soft n warm, steven <3 let me know how it fits?”

at the bottom of the card he noted a phone number with a small heart next to it. he let out a small laugh, the beating of his heart loud enough in his ears that he could hear it. he was never aware that you shared the same feelings as him, but he was ecstatic.

he was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for his tea in his new cardigan.

#moon knight #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagines #steven grant drabbles #steven grant fluff #steven grant x you #moon knight fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #steven grant moon knight #moon knight steven

[fictive-fodder]

|| Steven Grant vs. You: I ||

A tiny story where you discover that your sweet, handsome coworker is just as much into Egyptology as you are into ancient Greece- and the playful battle that ensues.

*May become a multi-mini-chapter-moment-thing because it seems more fair for battles to be best of 3 or even 5 than best of 1. Also just a ton of slow burn fluff, which should really be my username at this point cause that’s all I write*

Word Count : Soooo tiny, 1.1k

PART I - PART II - PART III

Tag List

Read this on A03!

“But how can you prefer the ancient Greek world when it was so much more patriarchal?” Steven stammered with a half laugh. He was swinging his croissant around on the other side of the table from you and you couldn’t help but smile as flakes of pastry landed on the table, in his coffee, his lap. “Egyptian women could sue men! They could run businesses and own property and-”

“I’m not saying ancient Greece was better than ancient Egypt!” you assured, laughing. “I just have always been infatuated by the myths. And I don’t know, to me it’s like those Gods were really there, once, you know? These gorgeous, terrifying, giant presences that were all at once infatuated with humanity as they were spiteful. It’s such a different relationship than religious folks have with their deities now. They lived on a mountain that really exists, you could hike up it and speak to them if you wanted. They lived in the depths of the earth, and in the ocean, they were here, you know? Not a heavenly body, but here.” You rested one of your hands on your chest as you said it, impassioned. You thought you caught Steven’s eyes tracing the line of your clavicle, what he could see of it past your shirt, and up your neck, how it met with the curve of your jaw- but no, you quickly corrected your thoughts- this was Steven. He probably wouldn’t have noticed you existed if, weeks ago, he hadn’t overheard you lamenting that ancient Greek history wasn’t as well represented in the gift shop as you would have liked.

The playful argument that had ensued led you to this tradition of a full fledged debate in the employee break room during every lunch break the two of you had together. You had taken to checking the break schedule as soon as you clocked in, your heart always skipping a beat when you realized that it would be a Steven Lunch Day.

It didn’t happen as often as you would have hoped, it seemed like Steven’s manager gave him odd shifts quite often. If a late night was needed, or two, four hour shifts three hours apart, Steven was the one who got them. Since you worked mornings it was always an unexpected treat to see him working.

“You have to admit that that is neat.” you pushed, grinning as Steven set down his crumbled wad of a croissant.

“No!” Steven laughed, “No, no no no…” he ran his fingers through his hair, croissant flakes tangling into his curls. “You get me all wrong- of course ancient Greece is neat.” he conceded, his tone earnest and bright. “It’s beautiful and there is so much to learn about, so much history. I can totally understand why you like it so much-”

“But?” you raised your eyebrows with mock defensiveness.

“No buts!” Steven said a little too loudly. A few of your coworkers glanced over before continuing to do their best to ignore you both for the umpteenth time. You snorted and had to force yourself to take a sip of coffee so you wouldn’t keep laughing. You were sure that you and Steven must have been annoying everyone else with these talks, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Here was this man with a beauty that rivaled silent film actors. A Rudolph Valentino stand-in who also was one of the sweetest people you’d ever met. And he was smart. Your coworkers seemed weary of him for his awkwardness, but you’d take that over how most of the museum’s patrons treated staff.

“But-” Steven said softly, with a playful wince.

“Yes?”

“You have to admit that, as far as intensity in awe… the ancient Egyptians prospered in ways we still can’t replicate or understand. We don’t even know how they accomplished what they have left us behind.”

“That’s true with the Greeks!’ you scoffed, “We still don’t understand how the Hellenic sculptures carved marble that is so delicate and top heavy that still hasn’t crumbled. Even the Romans couldn’t figure it out and just gave all their sculptures thick tree trunks carved beside the sculpture’s legs. And let’s not forget the whole cement with marble veneer thing.”

“Oh, we can’t forget that.” Steven replied wryly, which made your face feel very warm.

“Are you teasing me?” you asked, astounded. You tapped your boot against his under the table.

“No!” Steven said, jumping in his seat. He held both of his hands up and waved them frantically. “No I would never, honestly, it’s just so nice to know someone that likes something as much as I like… well, as much as I like another thing.”

“Until I convert you.” you said, smiling softly.

“Right-” Steven chuckled, his voice broke mid laugh in a way you had come to covet. “That’s not gonna happen though, you know? You know that the whole reason I work here is for Egyptology?”

“I know it is why you came here.” you granted, pushing your feet together so you could resist kicking him again.

“But?” Steven tilted his head, eyes warm.

“No buts!” you mimicked, “But, it might not be the reason you stay?”

“Hey!” he frowned, “But you did but!”

“Okay how about this-” you started, leaning against your side of the table conspiratorially. “Ancient Egypt and Greece were very intertwined, right? We would probably both be very happy if we could just-” you made a sweeping gesture with your hands, Steven’s eyes watched as if fully expecting for something to appear between your fingers. “-be there. Let’s say the Library of Alexandria, for fun’s sake. At least tens of thousands of papyri, Grecian philosophers on Egyptian earth-”

“Grecian dominated Egyptian earth-” Steven mumbled, intrigue shining from his eyes despite himself.

“Macedonian.”

“That’s still Greek!”

“I can’t help that my favorite ancient civilization conquered yours! You guys had a good run!” you teased, popping the last bit of your pastry into your mouth with a satisfied gesture. This awarded you a very flat glare. “I guess history is repeating itself right here and now.”

“Silly.” Steven murmured, “I am not conquered and you have not won me over.”

“Yet.”

He opened his mouth to make another playful retort, but before he could the timer on your phone went off. You pretended to not notice Steven’s shoulders slump downward as you turned off the alarm and stood up.

“Does that alarm mean you’re going?” he asked.

“It means that we are!” you replied, leaning down to wrap your arms around one of his, you pulled him up from his chair. “Last time you forgot to clock back in and I didn’t want you to get in trouble again so I just put a timer on my phone.”

Steven stood still, looking past his shoulder and into your eyes. His expression was calmer, less full of anxiety and enthusiasm. “Thank you-” he said softly.

You gave his arm a last squeeze before he let you pull him out of the break room.

#steven grant #moon knight #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fan fiction #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #moon knight imagines #mcu moon knight #non binary #non binary fan fic

[avatarofseshat]

Roses

Pairings: Steven Grant x f!Reader, Marc Spector x f!Reader

Warnings: Smut (not too explicit) , Minors DNI. 18+ Only (to be safe)!

Technically part four of The Sun & The Moon series but can be read alone as well.

Moon Knight Masterlist

—

“How are you always so sensitive?” You whisper half in amusement and half seductively as you run your fingers down Steven’s toned chest admiring how the golden hue of the morning sun made his olive skin glow.

“Anything for you, love,” his voice trembles as you continue to brush your finger across his torso as you admire every slight imperfection.

“You are so pretty,” you praise as you place a kiss to his toned chest.

“No, y-you are,” he stutters as your hand wonders lower and dips beneath the duvet that covers your shared bed “c’mere…” he mumbles cupping your cheek and pulling you into a passionate kiss “I love you” he voice his husky as he briefly pulls away. As soon as his lips meet yours again he flips you over causing your hand to rapidly move to his back in an attempt to move with him “as much as I adore your touch, darling…I have a better idea.”

It was late morning by the time you both emerge from your shared residence with fingers entwined as you headed towards the street to hail a taxi. It was Saturday - and it happened to be your anniversary - it had become your custom to attend the local outdoor market.

You had caught Steven staring at you doe-eyed more than usual that day and you could help but notice how his eyes would scan up and down your light blue sundress before meeting your gaze.

“Like what you see, Mr. Grant?” You mumbled against his lips before peppering him with sweet kisses.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled against your neck completely oblivious of the odd looks you two were probably attracting. He had that effect on you, when you were together the rest of the world didn’t exist.

As the warm rays of the sun gave way to the cool night air you noticed how he seemed to grow more anxious. You were hoping it wasn’t because they had leave and cancel your dinner plans. You were relived when that wasn’t the case as you sat across from each other at the restaurant. He looked beyond gorgeous in the shirt and jacket you were sure Marc made him purchase as it was classic black and white.

In a sudden burst of confidence Steven reached across the table and took your hand in his as he other hand fidgeted with his jacket pocket.

“Y/N, darling…” he whispered as he took your hand “do you have any idea of how much you mean to me…us,” you had no doubt that Marc had just said something “and I don’t know what I would be without you…you’ve excepted us and have loved us unconditionally. I only hope that I can return it.” You could just hear Marc scoff at that.

Your eyes widened when you noticed the small box he had in his free hand as he slides from his chair to kneel before you on the stone floor. You smiled as he struggled to open it with one hand before relenting to release your hand “Sorry…darling,” he mumble an apology as he opened and a smile spread across your face.

It was a gorgeous natural oval cut Lapis Lazuli surrounded by several smaller diamonds all set in gold. You met Steven’s chocolate gaze both of your eyes rimmed with tears with overflowing emotion.

He took a breath to steady his racing heart “Y/N…darling…my love…will you marry me?” Us.

“Yes!” You instantly replied, you weren’t just saying yes to Steven, even though he was the one to ask. You were saying yes to Marc as well and even to the third alter, whomever he may be. They’re a packaged deal.

A big grin spread across Steven’s handsome face as he went to place the ring on your finger. Before both of you embraced, few knew of how great of a kisser your shy boyfriend - fiancé - was. This kiss easily took the cake, it was full of passion, devotion, and promise.

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” He mumbles into the crook of your neck and you just smile into his his neck “I love you so much, darling.”

The rest of the evening passed in a daze as Steven just started at you with doe eyes. He was endlessly adorable and charming and unbelievable gorgeous.

“Steven, let’s go home.”

The morning sun glinted off the blue stone around your ring finger as you rolled over just to find the bed empty. You sighed to yourself as you found a set of lounge wear before gathered up the clothes that were scattered on the floor. You couldn’t help the but smile as the memories of the previous night filled your head and your heart.

When you reached the kitchen you couldn’t help but smirked when you saw Marc’s T-shirt and Jean clad figure. Steven may be keen to hide himself behind too big clothes but mark was the opposite as he usually preferred his clothes snugger.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” He cheekily inquired in that deep slightly-Chicago accented voice as he turned slightly in profile so he would slightly see the pink rise to your cheeks.

Everyday it amazed you how different they where - not that you didn’t expect it. Steven was awkward and somewhat shy while Marc was confident and intense. Their personalities weren’t the only stark difference you have come to know.

“Always.” You cheekily respond as he playfully shakes his head.

He turned to completely face you as his dark chocolate orbs met your (eye color) ones “I’m glad you’re not disappointed.”

You round the kitchen island so that your face-to-face with him “When have I ever been disappointed to see you?”

“This is a special time for…”

You cut him off as you step closer “all of us…a packaged deal, remember?” He wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you in for a kiss that is full of promise and relief.

Suddenly the smell of something burning reaches your nostrils “shit!” He curses when he realizes breakfast is burning. You give him a peck on the cheek as he releases you.

Something catches the corner or your eye and you turn curiously towards it. Your eyes soften as a smile spreads across your face when you spot the bouquet of red roses sitting on the counter. You look to Marc thinking they must be from him as you snatch the small card from its holder.

Don’t believe everything you hear.

I’ll see you soon, mi amore.

The signature looked like it read “Jake Lockley”. You drop the card as realization reaches your mind - the mysterious third alter!

Once Marc finishes preparing breakfast he turns to see why you’ve become so quiet. He nearly runs to your side when he sees the paleness of your features “baby, what’s…,” he stops short as he spots the card on the counter and quickly picks it up to scan it.

‘Marc! What’s are we going to do?!’ Steven is so frantic Marc can barely think.

You’re not afraid of Jake, apprehensive yes but not afraid. You’ve see monsters and as far as you knew Jake wasn’t one. If he was he’s had ample opportunities to show such. The color had quickly returned to your features as you took a calming breath.

“Y/N?” Marc’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on you, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure him “I wasn’t expecting it…that’s all.”

“Sausage? Bacon?” You question eyeing the spread before you and knowing of Marc’s Jewish heritage.

“Turkey,” he clarifies before pulling you into a sweet kiss and pulling out your chair. Breakfast was delicious and much to Marc’s amusement you ate more than your share “where do you put it all?”

After breakfast Marc was insistent on joining you in the shower despite having already showered himself. He now had you with your chest pinned against the cool tile as he devoured your neck and shoulder, his hand griped your hips as he ground his hard length against you.

“You like that don’t you, baby?” He breathed into your ear his breath hitched as you ground against him “Shit! You’re such a tease!”

“Marc…” your body ached for him as you turned your head and he eagerly consumed your mouth with his.

“I know honey,” he breathed as he he slid one hand between your bodies as he adjusted himself so that he could enter “you are so perfect,” he groaned as he steadily entered you and he only paused when he heard your sharp in take of breath as your core stretched around him.

Marc soon had you pressed tightly against him as you met his rhythmic pace and you could feel the familiar coil in your stomach as his calloused fingers came into contact with your sensitive perl “that’s it…baby…come for me.” He had you seeing stars as you came around him and you could tell that he was close himself as his rhythm faltered as his mouth sought yours.

Marc had been unusually quiet all day and by the far off look that graced his brown eyes you could tell he was lost in thought as he rubbed a palm up and down your bare legs that where resting across his lap. He only made eye contact when you went to move.

“I’m gonna call him,” he suddenly spoke as you shifted your legs off of his lap.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he respond with a sigh “I’m doing it right this time…I want us to be a family. You know. If we have kids they should know their grandpa.” You simply smiled at him as he pulled you close to bury his nose into your hair.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marvel moon knight #mcu fanfic #mcu #moon knight fan fiction #the sun & the moon #moon knight

[ivystoryweaver]

2, 14, 74 for the fic writer asks? 🫶🏽

Hi bb, thanks for the ask!

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Both. Some stories are mapped out pretty well, but some, I roll with the feel. My first MK fic “With You” (my baby) was supposed to be about 3-4 chapters, with Jake’s role MUCH smaller. It’s 16 chapters lol.

Whereas my Poe fic “The Only One” is planned out pretty well to the end.

14. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

Omg I live for angst. I’ve been writing a lot of fluff lately, but I love angst. You might notice in my stories that, instead of being how 2 people get together, it is how they stay together. Kind of after the ‘happily ever after’. Loving someone long term is hard work and it can hurt.

Yes, I feel what my characters feel. I feel deeply for and with Marc and Steven (or whomever). I don’t know what it’s like to be them - I’ve never had nearly those struggles. So Idk if I draw on my own life so much. I’ve had loss and danger in my life, but I think what I put into my writing from my personal thoughts is more of a wish.

A wish for how 2 people could communicate and love beautifully.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

This is a great question! I write (or at least I think I write) how people talk. I write in short, choppy sentences, using plain words. My sentences aren’t beautiful and flowery. I love fics that are. But when people actually speak, there are pauses, short phrases and “um’s” and I feel that’s how I write. Maybe…

So, probably that style plus you know there’s gonna be angst. Also probably one of the main characters is going to do something like really precious or sweet.

I also have a thing for domesticity. There is a lot of life lived and loved shared (or feelings hurt) in bed, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, over supper. “With You” took place entirely in the building where the boys lived with reader.

Get to know your fic writer

#ivy replies #📥 inbox #📤 answered #lovely moots 💕 #writing #moon knight fan fiction #Star Wars fanfiction

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 6 - Snooze

Marc Spector&Co. x Ex!F!OC, F!OC x Modern!Miguel O'Hara

Summery: Everything changed after Marc and Simone moved to New York. Being in a relationship with the Fist of Khonshu proved to be difficult enough without the added obstacles of normal relationships being forced into the mix. With seemingly irreconcilable differences overhead, fate’s plans continue to drive the pair back into each other’s lives, testing their patience, self-control, and new relationships. Is it truly written in the stars, or is it old habits taking over?

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT |  Warnings: Language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. Hella kissing, alcohol use,

Words: 2.7K

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter List

"I can't lose when I'm with you How can I snooze and miss the moment? You just too important Nobody do body like you do" -"Snooze" by SZA

It was hopeless, and Simone knew it. She liked Miggy a lot, but it was no use. What consistently drew her back to Marc was taking over, and she couldn't stop it. 

Turn around, go home, don't be an idiot. She thought, not just in her voice, but Jen's and Matt's, and everyone that knew she would go into full self-sabotage mode. 

I can't. I can't do it. She replied to herself as her feet continued to step, jaywalking across the road to the angelic man in white, like a zombie-like junky needing her fix. 

That Spector boy is no good for you, Mija! Leave him alone! Don't be a whore! The voice of her mom screamed in her brain. Luckily, Simone had gotten pretty good at pushing her out. The closer she got, the more she could breathe in his essence, which drove her wild. She was feral, like an animal. 

"Moni?" He called out upon noticing her as her feet touched the sidewalk he stood on. In a flash, his mask was gone, and his face was all she could see. 

Perfect. Good medicine wrapped in dark eyes and messy hair. Without hesitation, Marc grabbed her by the hips and spun her around, rushing her back into a set of seemingly feather-weight double doors. Before her eyes, they were in the old apartment in London, and his eyes flicked to the soft gaze of her Stevie. He no longer wore the white suit but instead a nice casual t-shirt.

It would have struck her as strange if she didn't feel so good here, where she belonged. With a pivot of their feet, he was the one being led backward, kissing Simone tenderly and sweetly as he always did until they practically floated onto the cheap mattress. 

She straddled him as she did before as total muscle memory took over. It was unreal how she needed him so desperately and could withhold this feeling from herself for so long just to deem it as necessary as oxygen now.

The sheets began surrounding them as they sank into the pillowtop, deeper and deeper until they came clean out of the other end, falling through the atmosphere for a seemingly long time as his eyes changed before her once more, now being taken over by Jake. 

Their bodies sank through the roof of his taxi and into the back seats before there was a second to fully process being out of the apartment. It was hectic and overwhelming, but she loved it. The whirlwind romance of it all, heavily panting and sloppily making out in this vehicle. 

Don't wake up. She told herself. Don't let this end. 

Simone did end up waking up, though, all on her own. She didn't feel fully rested when she did and couldn't pinpoint what it was that pulled her from her slumber this time. The sun was barely up, no alarms, no phone calls, just her body recognizing the old feeling she shouldn't feel anymore.

On her nightstand stood her phone next to a half-empty bottle of prescription sleep medication that she had been taking since she moved to New York. Ever since the kidnapping, she had found it hard to sleep in unfamiliar areas for fear of being retaken. The pills had the tendency to cause strange, lucid dreams. 

In Simone's mind, it wasn't fair. After doing everything she could to avoid thoughts of Marc during the waking hours of the day, she couldn't seem to escape him in her unconsciousness. It was at the point where she'd rather lose sleep than have another dream. 

Gotta stop taking those things. She told herself as she tapped the screen of her phone to find a single text from an hour prior.

Miggy: Hey, sorry for leaving you hanging. Can't wait to see you again. Call me when you get a minute.

Before heading to the gym, she took a moment to call Miguel and arrange a pizza and movie "night in" type of date that left her excited and energized. Now that she knew Miggy wasn't avoiding her, she knew there was nothing to worry about.

Though Marc had already had a session by way of the emergency one he called after Simone's date, he still had to fulfill his weekly meeting with Dr. Sterman. Unfortunately, she wanted to talk more about the topic from the earlier session.

"Have you spoken to Simone since?"

"I haven't. I've found that I do better keeping her safe from a distance. She's less likely to yell or swing at me that way."

His saying this reminded Dr. Sterman of something he had brought up when they first started meeting, and she shifted in her leather seat. 

"What of the symbol? Has anything come of that, do you think?" She questioned. 

"Symbol, doctor?" Marc asked, confused. The doctor cleared her throat,

"The story you told me a while ago about the symbol of protection. Do you think it's doing its job, or is it just a trick from your god?"

Marc suddenly remembered what she was referring to. "I assume it's working however it needs to." He answered with a shrug in his voice. His shrink saw right through this response and let the silence sit heavy between them until he decided to elaborate with a heavy sigh. "A couple weeks ago, this car nearly hit her. When I say nearly, I mean it was off by mere feet or less. I don't think that's a coincidence." 

Dr. Sterman's eyebrows ticked up above the rims of her glasses at this. It sounded crazy, but then again, just about everything she heard from Marc Spector fit that bill. It didn't sound as convoluted as other things, but it raised a question in her mind. 

"And that leads you to believe marking her was a good idea?" She wondered. Another long pause fell between them as Marc thought about what to say. He was still skeptical, himself. 

"I don't know." He answered plainly, intertwining his gloved fingers. "I know she's still alive. For that, I'm grateful. Even if she hates me."

The topic brought Marc back to when he got Moni back from Walton. He had never seen her so weakened in his life. Simone was always one of the toughest people he knew, and to see her so helpless shattered him. Her face lacked any color that wasn't purple, yellow bruising, or browning-red, dried blood. He could make out every vein on her thin, closed eyelids with the crust from sleep surrounding her lashes.  

She would hate it if I tried to rub them away. He thought, remembering how she freaked out at anything getting near her eyes and chuckling to himself. I'll leave it alone.

Simone had been unconscious for the few hours Marc was at her side, needles introducing necessary fluids to her body as she rested. He had his hand tucked into hers gently, fearing if he squeezed a little too hard, she might break. 

"I'll never let anything happen to you ever again, Moni. I promise." He whispered aloud as if she could hear, dipping his head down to softly kiss her knuckles. 

"There may come a time when you cannot be there for her, Marc, but there is a way." The familiar boom of Khonshu's voice in his head broke him from his somber state. 

"Like I trust a goddamn word you say." He replied quietly, shaking his head. It wasn't the time for the bird to mock his pain. 

"I speak the truth! Trace my mark upon her forehead, and she will be under my protection and yours." The boney bird-headed figure that was only visible to him defended, now visible at the foot of her bed. 

As ridiculous as it sounded, Marc decided to pry. "Yeah? What's the catch?"

"She will be protected from harm, forever under my watchful eye as you are! Now, mark her with the moon."

Everything in Marc's body was screaming for him to deny this request. There was always a catch with Khonshu, always, but all it took was the sight of Simone as she was to make him feel like there was no other option. He couldn't always have an eye on her, just as he didn't when Walton grabbed her.

A heavy sigh left Marc's chest as he pulled his right hand out of her limp left and shakily inched it toward her face. He needed to do it. If there was a chance that she would be safer, he had to try.

A faint, red glow radiated from the tip of his index finger as he extended it. The same red glow stuck to her forehead's dry, scabbed skin as he traced the shape of a crescent moon on her. As he finished, the glowing line disappeared as if it weren't there in the first place. 

Without a moment to spare, Marc watched as Moni's eyes began to flutter and slowly blinked open and blankly drifted from the ceiling to his face. He hadn't fully lowered his hand before she awoke, which prompted him to take her fingers into his palm again. 

"Hey, baby. It's okay. You can rest."

Later that evening, Simone went to her office to review more applications for a new receptionist. To her surprise, a knock at the door nearly startled her out of her concentration. 

"I'm not taking appointments today. I'm sorry." She called out, unable to make out the face through the frosted glass of the heavy wooden door that separated her space from the hallway. Another figure appeared, this one much short than the other, followed by another quick tap at the door and a girlish voice. 

"Open up, Fredrick. We have treats!" The voice yelled, giving away that one of the people at her door was Jennifer. 

Can't resist that kind of offer. Simone thought to herself as she stood and walked from her personal office to the waiting area and the door. As she opened it, Jen wasted no time sauntering in with a rather large bottle of red wine in hand, followed by Murdock with a stack of red paper cups from his office. 

"What's the occasion?" Simone asked with a raised brow. Jen pivoted around on her flats to face her, 

"Your new hunk isn't weird after all, duh!" She exclaimed, nestling the cork in her free hand. Before she spoke up again, she grew and turned green, pulled the cork out with her bare hand, and shrank back down. "Also, you're so lame for being here on your day off. What're you even doing?" 

Simone rolled her eyes and started walking back to her office to grab the papers she was sifting through before their arrival, 

"I'm still trying to find a receptionist since the last one quit. No thanks to you, Murdock." She replied with a playful bite. Matt had slept with her last receptionist, Luna, but once he realized they wouldn't work out, she found it too awkward to work next door to him. Matt put on a tone of offense, 

"In my defense, she was always making personal phone calls. You should've gotten rid of her a lot sooner." 

"She was better than nobody!" Simone responded as she scooped up the stack and brought it to the old sectional couch in her lobby. Jen poured the slightly chilled wine into one of the paper cups and offered it as Simone returned but wasn't surprised when she declined it. "I'm good. You guys go ahead."

Some time passed, and wine flowed as Simone continued to read over applications just for Jen to take them after she was finished and list the good qualities of every applicant, followed by a cheerful "You should pick them!" 

"You know, you probably aren't helping much by telling her she should go with just about everyone she's seen," Matt told Jen with a shrug. Simone laughed,

"Right, I don't think Tracy, whose strengths are line dancing and bartending, is the best fit." 

To this point, Jen dramatically gasped,

"What if this is the exact job she needs for experience?"

"As a professional, I'm more apt to hire Dustin with his paralegal experience, personally," Simone explained, gesturing to the application for the man in question. "Or, I'll just borrow Karen from you, Murdock."

"Absolutely not. My place would fall apart without her. Find your own!" Matt replied, causing the two women to laugh jovially. 

Once the hysterics died down, Simone found herself going right back to the paperwork instinctively. When Jen noticed this, she frowned, and Simone caught this from the corner of her eye. She looked up from Winnie Corgin's application to confirm if she saw things right and noticed that she was correct. 

"What is it?" She asked, taking note of the straight face on her other friend, as well, who didn't have to be able to see to know she was right back to work. 

"Well, we just noticed that..." Matt started before trailing off with his mouth open like a fish, the words lost before they came out. Jen quickly recovered them, 

"We noticed that you might be doing that thing you do where you push yourself into your work to avoid thinking about other things," Jen informed. "And if you are, that's okay, but we wanted you to know that we're here for you and that even psychiatrists are allowed to talk about their problems." 

A furrow appeared on Simone's brow at this intervention. She didn't think she was doing anything different than usual, not in the least. Being an expert in human behavior, though, she realized that things could appear business as usual for her but strange to those close to her.

"I promise I'm fine, guys. I just have a lot of extra things to do right now." Simone attempted to explain as Matt shifted to the other side of the couch from Jen, leaving her stuck in the middle. His hand came up and rested on her shoulder,

"You don't have to lie to us, doc." He said in a sympathetic tone, giving away that he was listening to her heartbeat patterns. Simone, herself, hadn't even realized she was lying. She looked to her left and found that Jen was giving her a look that said nice try.

I guess I'll have to give them something to go off of. Simone thought before expelling a heavy sigh. 

"For some reason, Mr. Knight and his chaos have been following me around, and I guess I'm just stressed that it'll cause a rift in what I have going with Miggy." She told her friends, stating her internal thoughts aloud. Matt's eyebrows perked above his round shades,

"You really like him, don't you?" He asked, reminding her of a question that her good friend back in London asked her in regards to the other guy what seemed like ages ago. 

Simone didn't think it possible to find something special beyond Marc. Though she knew she liked Miguel, she hadn't let the thought cross her might that this is what moving on is supposed to feel like, and whatever love she still feels for Marc must be- has to be- left over for the man he once was to her. 

Her best friend. Her rock. Her first love. 

It had crossed her mind what would happen if that man reappeared to her. She yearned for it enough that she was convinced it could happen, but it was a foolish thought. Her Marc was long gone now. Just a memory. 

"I do." Simone finally answered after what seemed like a long pause to her, but to Jen and Matt, it was just mere seconds. 

Jen's eyes lit up, and a broad smile spread across the lower half of her face as she threw her arms around her friend for a weird, one-sided side hug. 

"Our Simmy must be coming back!" She exclaimed. 

Simmy? Simone thought as Matt's arms wrapped from the other end tightly. That's new. 

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #moon knight fan fic #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight fanfic #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099

[bluemoonperegrine]

Chapter 14: One of the Good Ones

The silly MK/WBN romance takes a somewhat serious turn with this chapter. It's all in the name of character development.

An excerpt:

A few minutes later Marc padded into the living room wearing his gold necklace with a small Star of David and Jack’s red gym shorts to find Jack on the couch with the TV on and the volume down. On the slightly scuffed coffee table were two glasses of water, a bag of chips, and the small bowl of fruit he usually kept in the kitchen. Jack had quickly learned that “No, thank you” was Marc’s default answer to “Want anything to eat or drink?” More often than not if snacks were offered, he’d partake.

Trying to not undress Marc with his eyes, Jack said, “Better?”

“Yeah.” He sat close beside Jack, picked up one of the glasses, and took a long drink. With his heart in his eyes he said, “Thanks. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“It’s not trouble.” Marc seemed to apologize for existing sometimes. Not for the first time Jack wondered what exactly he’d gone through. Perhaps Marc would tell him one day.

Read the rest on ao3.

#moon knight #werewolf by night #fan fiction #fan fic #moon knight fan fiction #werewolf by night fanfiction

[melodygatesauthor]

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 1: Intoxicating

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

Chapter Summary

Marc sees you for the first time and can't understand why you smell the way you do. The aroma is intoxicating, and he's determined to get closer to you, despite Khonshu's rules.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 3.2k

When Marc first saw you, he was overwhelmed by your scent.

The blood coursing through your veins held an aroma so sickly sweet that he found himself dizzy from the smell. He stepped into the lofty, spacious room where an oversized, and over-embellished, chair sat at the back. The enormous windows behind the chair faced out to the ocean, stretching on for what felt like forever. Khonshu liked to call this his ‘throne room’; a pretentious name fit only for someone who thought all too highly of himself.

“Marc, isn’t she wonderfully fragrant?” Khonshu asked from where he sat in his chair, touching the small of your back. His deep voice broke Marc from his thoughts.

Marc cleared his throat, scowling at the display in front of him. You were there, standing timidly with your wrists and ankles bound by enchanted gold chains, and Khonshu was next to you, seated like a king, legs spread wide as though he didn’t have a care in the world. You were dressed like the other cattle: ivory-white, flowing dress covering your body, though leaving your neck well exposed in case Khonshu felt hungry on a whim.

“Yes sir,” Marc agreed, body stiffening as he tried to fight his primal urges against your intoxicating smell.

“Found this pretty thing walking home from some dead end job, sobbing, living a meaningless life, isn’t that right little dove?” He started rubbing your back, and Marc saw your body tense in response. He hated when Khonshu got new servants. He hated to see how nervous they all were in the beginning.

“Y-yes,” you said, voice sounding small compared to the bass of Khonshu’s tone.

“Not so meaningless now. You have such an important job here.” He looked up at you with such adoration it made Marc’s stomach turn. “Harrow,” he said loudly, looking at the man on Marc’s left. “I need a report, did you succeed in delivering my justice tonight?”

Arthur Harrow looked over at Marc, long face twisted into an expression of disdain that he reserved only for the right hand of Khonshu. When Harrow looked back at their master’s face, his expression changed to one of admiration, but Marc knew the man’s hatred for him still festered just under the surface.

Marc listened to Harrow’s recollection of the evening’s events. It was a brief retelling of their struggles and successes, structured in a way to make Arthur sound like the heroic protagonist of the story, leaving Marc to look like his inept sidekick. Marc chuckled under his breath when Harrow mentioned rescuing a woman from a mugger. What he failed to add, was that the man doing the mugging was in his late sixties, frail, and nearly starving to death in an alleyway, just trying to get enough money to eat for the night. In other words, Marc wouldn’t have needed a suit or vampiric abilities to deal with him.

“Is something funny, Marc Spector?” Arthur asked, turning to look at his counterpart.

Marc shook his head, “not at all, continue with your very accurate and completely true story.”

Marc looked at you, heartbeat racing at the sight of your pretty face. A smirk threatened the corner of your mouth, you must’ve noticed him, but you kept your eyes on the ground. Marc’s lips turned up for only a split second knowing he’d entertained you. He hated Khonshu for always making the servants of the house avert their gaze, as though the undead were a superior race to the living. He hated Khonshu for many other things as well, but not being able to see the sparkle of amusement in your eyes at that moment was one of them.

Marc shared his own account of the uneventful evening. They’d saved some other ‘travelers of the night’, as Khonshu called them, and made sure to deliver justice to those who hurt them. He didn’t always see eye to eye with Harrow, but both he and Marc served one man, bound to him forever in an unfortunate blood pact, and for that they were very alike. He wondered sometimes if Arthur hated their master as much as he did, but Marc didn’t dare ask such a question out loud.

Khonshu looked up at you, smiling contentedly as he did before letting out a sigh, broad shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Very good,” he said, finally addressing both Marc and Arthur. “I’m hungry, so I’ll be taking my leave.” He looked over at Marc as he stood, running a hand through his thick black hair. “Marc, please attend to any queries as I would.”

Marc nodded, watching Khonshu rise, putting his hand on your upper back as he led you out of the room. Your scent left with you, not fully, but enough to allow the fog that weighed heavy in Marc’s mind dissipate. He was certain that if you smelled that good, you must taste equally as delicious…right?

~~~~

Why the fuck did you smell like that? Marc wondered moments later, sitting in Khonshu’s lavish chair in his absence. There was no reason for you to smell like that. So sweet, so delicious. Marc found himself salivating, quickly wiping his lips. It was embarrassing, the way you had made such a mess out of him after only moments of him being in your presence.

“Are you hungry sir? I can get your cattle for you,” one of the servants nearby asked, noticing that he’d wiped his mouth.

“No, no I’m…” he wasn’t fine, “I’m fine.”

He’d lived a hundred twenty-six years, and not once had he come across a scent like that. It didn’t make sense, and yet, it was permeating the air around him, making him feel mildly intoxicated once again. Harrow chuckled on Marc’s left, taking the man out of his daze. He scowled and looked over at him.

“What?” Marc questioned, tone laced in frustration.

Arthur shrugged, “hm? Oh, nothing. It’s just interesting to me, how much your age shows when you're faced with something unique, like the new cattle girl.”

“She just has a strong smell, it’s nothing,” Marc said firmly, bouncing his leg as he became more anxious.

“Right, of course,” Arthur’s expression was smug, condescending toward Marc in an attempt to rattle him.

“Why don’t you go find something to keep yourself busy, Harrow. I’m sure Khonshu wouldn’t want to think you were bothering me while I conduct his business.”

That struck a nerve, and Marc knew it would. Harrow had served Khonshu for many, many, years longer than Marc had. Hundreds longer to be more precise. Arthur was an arguably better servant as well. He would kill without question, spending no time on nuance and weighing the gray area brought on by guilt. Harrow would kill if he simply felt that someone was deserving. Marc didn’t like to fight that way, it felt wrong, and morally corrupt at its core. Marc would only kill if he thought it was a just punishment.

Despite Harrow being Khonshu’s loyal and unquestioning knight, always doing their master’s bidding without question, Marc was the one Khonshu favored most. Neither of them understood it, and both of them wished it were Harrow in that position rather than Marc. He never wanted to be Khonshu’s right hand, and when he was turned he didn’t know that’s what he was signing up for. Khonshu was good at keeping information from his servants. In fact, that’s how he managed to recruit so many. If he’d been upfront with them all, no one would have joined him.

“Khonshu is preoccupied at the moment, I’m sure–”

“Ooh,” Marc taunted, “then it would be really awkward if I had to go knocking on his door to tell him that you were being a pain in my ass, wouldn’t it?” Marc looked at Harrow, both eyebrows raised in anticipation for the rebuttal that never came.

Once Harrow left, frustrated and grumbling to himself, Marc tried to find other ways to occupy his mind, and to get his thoughts off of you. He spoke with the servants, making small talk about the weather, as though he gave a shit about whether it was raining or the skies were painted in blue. He just needed to take his mind off of you, because the more he thought about you, the more he felt his body aching with hunger.

There were so few rules that Marc needed to abide by that he’d be labeled a moron if he couldn’t manage to follow them. He could come and go as he pleased, so long as he did the work Khonshu required of him. Marc wasn’t allowed to turn someone, unless of course his master bid him to do so. And there was one rule, a big one that was upheld above all else…

Touching Khonshu’s cattle was absolutely forbidden.

That was how Marc got there, replacing the last Moon Knight that was dumb enough to try and pull one over on Khonshu. When his master claimed someone, by auction, coercion or otherwise, they were his. Marc had heard that Khonshu was kind to his servants, only taking what he needed, never drinking more than his fill. If one of his designated meals were tired or still recovering from a feeding, he would allow them time to rest before he used them again.

Marc also knew that they ate well. He saw the meals sometimes in passing being brought by the cooks to the rooms of the cattle. That’s how Marc learned that you liked strawberries, especially the large ripe ones. He would see the way the cooks made a point to pick through the smaller sour ones and toss them aside before bringing them to your door.

Were you spoiled, or did you figure that if you were going to be stuck there for the rest of your life, that you might as well enjoy yourself? Either way, a week after your arrival, Marc still wasn’t used to your scent, and it called to him both day and night. It was faint, unless he was in the same room as you, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to figure out why you smelled like that, even if it killed him.

Marc didn’t need the enchanted armor Khonshu had blessed him with to climb the wall outside to your bedroom, his jeans and dark t-shirt would do just fine. The armor only afforded him protection at will, and the crescent darts he used to deliver Khonshu’s justice. As a vampire, there was no mountain too high for Marc to climb, and no distance too far for him to run. His strength couldn’t be surpassed by even ten men, but everything came with a price.

He needed blood to live.

Without that iron flavored liquid, Marc would die. Not much could kill him, but the thirst for blood certainly would if he didn’t satisfy it. And the smell of yours was making him fucking feral.

Marc didn’t know what he was thinking, standing there in your room, watching you while you slept soundly. He had all he could to stop himself from draining your body of every drop of your blood in front of Khonshu, so what was stopping him now? Your master wasn’t around to save you, but Marc knew he could never forgive himself if he hurt you.

He knelt down by your bedside, touching your warm cheek softly with the backs of his fingers. Your breathtaking eyes fluttered open, meeting his in a gaze with a look that was as frightened as it was confused. He put a finger to his lips, shushing you, hoping like hell that you wouldn’t alert the household to his presence in your quarters; something that would surely land him in the thirst room for a minimum of half a century.

You nodded as you slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes and pulling away from Marc. It was a smart decision, he had no noble reason for being there. He just wanted to smell you. He wanted to feel you. You were doing well in your attempt to hide your fear, though he could tell you were petrified. Your breathing was ragged, and your pupils blown wide.

“Why do you smell like that?” He said in a low growl, leaning forward on your bed, nuzzling your neck and inhaling deeply, “so fuckin’ sweet I…fuck.”

“W-what are you do–”

“Shh, I’m not going to hurt you, I just…” he inhaled again, breath ragged and harsh in your ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He repeated, not sure who he was trying to convince more, you…or himself.

“O-okay,” you said in the softest, and shakiest, voice he’d ever heard.

Marc really wasn’t going to harm you, though it took every ounce of his strength not to. He wanted to devour you, drink you dry, absorb your warmth into every cell of his cold body. He leaned in more, pushing you back against the mattress, feeling every neuron in his brain firing with desire. He felt your hands, pushing gently against his chest in protest, but you clearly weren’t brave enough to try and fight back.

Marc felt his cock aching as it sprung to life against his jeans. Your legs were around him, though he could feel your knees digging into his waist in an attempt to close them. The heat from your cunt was maddening, radiating off of you through his clothing and making his dick leak profusely.

“Why the fuck do you smell like that?” He asked again, throat vibrating with a primal rumble. He breathed in your fragrant aroma some more, feeling his fangs extending in preparation to bite. “Never smelled someone so…hmmmm.”

“L-like…like w-what?”

That’s when he realized just how much you were shaking. As if he were awoken from a trance, Marc shook the delirium from his mind and slid off of you quickly, backing up to the wall, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. He gulped, looking you up and down. You looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. Your bottom lip was trembling while you sat up and stared widely at him, like prey coming face to face with a predator. 

“I’m sorry,” Marc said, still panting heavily. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt so breathless.

“You’re M-Marc, right?” You asked, looking him up and down, “I’m…” your name rolled off your tongue beautifully.

Cattle didn’t have names. Once someone was branded as livestock, a human whose job was to provide blood to their master, they were stripped of their previous life, including their name. Marc had been to other households. Some masters replaced their servant’s old names with new ones. Others had a numeric system, the numbers getting higher and higher the longer a vampire had been alive and using servants.

Khonshu preferred to keep his nameless. It made it less personal when it was time to dispose of old or sickly livestock, or when he got too carried away while feeding, leading to the unfortunate demise of a perfectly good food source. Marc knew you were privy to the rules. You knew damn well that you weren’t supposed to ever utter your birth name, and yet you were speaking it freely to him.

You trusted him.

“Look…I was never here, alright?” Marc swallowed hard, looking out at the moonlit sky. “I…I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…I couldn’t help myself. I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, and without looking at you again, Marc climbed through the window and dropped back to the ground, moving quickly around the side of the manor and back to where his quarters were. The pain of his cock pressing against his zipper ached like never before. He could still fucking smell you, and now your scent was on his damn clothes. It was a mistake going there, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad he did.

~~~~

He got into bed that night, stripped down fully, planting his feet firmly against his mattress, cock in hand and jerking himself off to the thoughts running through his mind. He balled up his shirt, holding it against his face and smelling your aroma still saturated in every fiber. His grip was firm around his girth, gliding over his length at a slow pace, imagining what it would be like to feel you on top of him.

Marc ran his thumb over the precum leaking out of the slit on his fat tip, using that to keep his palm slick while he worked. A pathetic whine left his lips, throat closing as he gripped the sheets and arched his back upward. You’d take him so well, he could tell just by the way you looked underneath him earlier. You’d cry and whimper but you’d love every second, begging him to fuck you until you couldn’t walk right.

He rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his cock between his abdomen and the mattress, grabbing the sides of the bed and rutting his hips forward. The grind along the smooth sheets was enough to electrify his entire body. Marc choked on the groan that threatened to leave his lips. He put the shirt on his pillow, burying his face in it, fucking the bed faster. If you had been under him, he would’ve broken you in half…or shredded you to pieces.

He bit into the shirt, growling lowly and continuing to roll his erection over the soft mattress  in an attempt to curb the growing need to have you. Your voice was so small, so sweet, so pretty. Fuck, fuck… The way you looked at him, afraid, timid, like he was going to hurt you. He wished he could say with confidence that he would never hurt you, like he had promised you earlier in your room, but he knew that was a white lie. He would always try never to hurt you.

He shuddered on his next snap forward, the friction becoming more slick as his leaking head left a mess in its wake. His grip on the sides of the mattress was tight enough to make his knuckles ache, aiding in his speed. He didn’t even care that the bed scraped against the floor with a loud shriek on every pass. He kept his nose deep in the fabric of his shirt, inhaling deeply, intoxicated with your smell combined with his. It smelled right, like your fragrances belonged together.

You belonged with him.

“Why does she…why does she smell so…so-fucking-good-ohgodohgodohgod…!”

Marc’s hips finally came to a stammering halt, warm sticky ropes of cum shooting out from his throbbing cock, making a mess of his bedding that he knew the servants would mumble about amongst each other when they thought he wasn’t listening. He huffed through his nose, hips still sliding his dick over the glob of slippery white that he created while thinking of you. 

He wasn’t a fool, but Marc hoped desperately that masturbating his nights away would be enough to satisfy his needs. Deep down though, he knew that was bullshit, and he knew that as long as you were around, his life was at risk.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight #marc spector #Marc Spector X f!Reader #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #moon knight drabble #marc spector drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fan fiction #moon knight fan fiction #khonshu #ammit

[variouslengthsofwire]

#moon knight fan fiction #moon knight fluff #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #fluff fic #jake lockley #jake just wants a mustache #idk why I wrote this

[jakelockleysdoll]

ive been trying to find this marc fic I read last year for so long-

marc walks you to the club in a dress he wants to take you home in and rip it off and have you right there, but wants you to have a good time out with your friends (one of them named frankie) he notices immediately one of your friends keep flirting with you and he gets jealous and possessive but you reassure him everything is fine, he drops you off and walks home arguing with steven as he wants to stalk you and make sure you’re okay with that one friend of yours but steven is telling him not to (I might be getting this part mixed up with another fic) then early hours in the morning he gets a call/text from you, drunk, and he comes and picks you up, finding your drunk state cute, and tucks you into bed. PLEASE HELP ME FIND THIS LOVELIES ILY’S

<333

#marc spector #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #moon knight #marc spector x y/n #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector headcanon #marc spector y/n #marc spector fluff #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight head canon #moon knight fluff #moon knight headcanon #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight x y/n #moon knight y/n #fanfic finder #find fic #find fanfic #find familiar #f

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Pain is Contagious - Moon Knight

A/N - Self indulgent fic, not gonna lie!

AO3 available here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42039369

Female!Reader is in a relationship with the Moonboys - but she's behaving strangely. The Moonboys spin themselves into an anxious frenzy and decide they're finding out the issue regardless. Vague discussion of menstrual / period issues. Angst with a fluffy ending!

Perfunctory statement that I do not own any of the Moon Knight characters. This is unbeta'd, please excuse any strangeness! One swear word...

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

“- it’s really cool, innit?”

“Mmm.”

Steven can’t help the thrill of worry that runs through his veins at your response. He’s been trying to keep a smile plastered on his face all evening, but as time has worn on he’s found it more and more exhausting to battle the anxiety running riot in his mind. Something is off with you, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Something's off.  Marc observes in his ear. He’s watching from the reflection of a particularly shiny artefact on a shelf of the nearest bookcase. Jake is observing from the window.

Steven runs his eyes over your face again. Your response had been a short, tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes, and a quick glance in his direction before your gaze returned to the TV screen. You’d been pressed up against the other end of the sofa since Steven had tried to wrap you in his arms two hours ago - over an hour later than you’d arranged to meet, and after trying to excuse yourself from your evening together before you’d even arrived.

Your whole body radiated tension, right down to the thin, pale line of your lips set against your clenched jaw.

Finally, Steven can’t take it any more.

“Is something wrong, love?” He tries for open, offhand. He knows he misses spectacularly.

“No, of course not.” you reply just a bit too fast, another quick glance and tight smile sent his way. To your credit, you try to hold his gaze and offer a reassuring version of your smile. Then your head swings back to the TV.

Ok. Something's definitely wrong here. Marc’s tone is flat - his way of trying to hide his worry.

Steven swallows hard.

“Y’sure? You’ve been awfully quiet all evening. And far away…” He attempts a playful tone, making silly grabby hand gestures in the void of space between you. They fall into his lap with a thump when you don’t even turn your body towards him, just offer him another unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” Steven doesn’t miss the way your hands clench and re-clench in your lap.

Yeah, no - something’s going on here. Marc again. She looks tired, look how pale she is. Jake cuts in quietly. No. She’s clingy when she’s tired. How many times has she fallen asleep on us? Marc is starting to join the worry-train that Steven has been on for a couple of hours now.

“Yeah, me too. Why don’t we call it a night?” Steven suggests, gesturing vaguely towards the bed area with his hands anxiously hidden in his sleeves. His heart stutters when your gaze drops to your clenching hands.

“Actually, Steven, I’m sorry but I think I’m going to head home tonight. I’ll stay over another night if that’s ok?” You finally look up into Steven’s wide eyes, and your apologetic smile is off.

Steven’s mind is whirring with possible responses. He’s running fast towards total panic now.

“Oh, right… uh, what’s - why’s that?” He wants to kick himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your gaze drops again, the awkward attempt at a smile vanishing.

“I - Uh - I’m really tired and I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow, and…uh…” You trail off vaguely. Your hands are almost wringing now, picking mindlessly at the dry skin on your knuckles.

Struggling to swallow, Steven lays it out as best as he can. “What’s wrong? Please, you’re scaring me.”

Your head snaps up, and your hand shoots out across the sofa - but doesn’t quite reach Steven’s. It’s retracted as soon as he notices it, giving him no chance to take comfort in your touch. “No, nothing, really. I just… I need to get myself sorted out, y’know? I promise I’ll come over another night.”

Not “tomorrow night”. She said “another night”, not “tomorrow”. Marc’s voice is suspicious, verging on defensive. She’s allowed some time to herself. Maybe something happened and she needs to get her head straight. Jake sounds almost too casual in the headspace, but inside his mind is starting to whirl.

“Is… Is it something we can help with, love?” Steven offers hopefully. But you’re already gathering your things. Your jacket had been in your lap all evening, and now you’re wrapping it around yourself and fishing your keys out of the pocket. Even Jake starts to feel concerned at the speed you’re attempting to get away.

“No, no. Honestly, I’m just gonna go to bed. I’ll speak to you later, yeah?” You’re already nearly at the door. Steven’s panic almost makes him do something drastic - block your path, grab your wrist. He barely resists, following along behind helplessly, almost tripping over his own feet in his clumsy hurry to keep up with you.

Let me talk to her. Marc demands. No, you’ll make it worse. Let her go, Steven. Tonight it would appear that Jake is the rational alter.

You pause at the door, giving Steven a quick peck on the lips. “Night.”

Then you’re gone, the door closing behind you.

… Only one kiss. Marc’s voice is quiet, even in the headspace.

You normally kissed them three times - one for each of them. It was a cute little ritual the four of you shared.

For a moment all three of them are frozen to the spot, something like shock hanging in the atmosphere around them. It breaks when Steven begins to spiral into a frantic frenzy, pacing around the room, his fingers tangling around themselves and knotting in the cuffs of his sweater so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t dislocate or break any of the digits.

“Gods, we’re losing her. She’s going to leave us. The best thing that’s ever happened to us, and I’ve driven her away. What did I do? There must have been something -“

We’re not losing her, Steven. Why do you think YOU did something, Steven? Marc and Jake cut in at the same time, their voices overlapping in Steven’s head. Marc is pacing inside the headspace and he’s reflected in the long mirror by the bed, his fingers alternately rubbing against themselves and tugging at his hair. Jake is momentarily distracted by the similarities of the other alters’ behaviour, their pacing and nervous habits almost identical. He stores it away to study at a later time.

There’s got to be something we missed. Did we forget something? It’s not her birthday for a few months. Was it something to do with work? Or an event? There must be something important we didn’t notice…

By now Steven is struggling to hold back the full scale panic that threatens to engulf him. He can feel that sickly tingling in his chest, the ringing in his ears growing to an almost unbearable cacophony. He can practically feel his bones grinding together as he moves.

“Today on the phone, when I called her at lunchtime, she barely spoke to me. She said she was busy at work, but she always made time for our chat before…”

She tried to make an excuse not to come over tonight, remember? And the way she was speaking… It’s like she didn’t want to speak to me. Marc adds, his memory replaying that incredibly brief conversation you’d had with him only a few hours before at the end of your work day.

“I mean, we have just sort of… disappeared on her a couple of times recently. But she always seemed ok after - we made it up to her and everything…”

Of them all, Jake is the most steady. In fact, he’s alarmingly still, like a sniper waiting for the perfect shot. Reflected in the glass of the fish tank, he’s staring at the sofa, the gears in his brain whirring and churning out snippets of… something. Fellas, I think there’s something else going on here, I don’t think it’s us -

- of course it’s us! Marc cuts him off. She wouldn’t let Steven touch her all night, and she couldn’t get away from us fast enough!

“- yeah, you saw how much she didn’t want to be around us!” Steven adds. “She was so far at the end of the sofa I’m surprised she didn’t just sit in the kitchen!”

Jake sighs irritably. If those two would stop with their panic, he could think clearly. There’s something… something he can’t quite grasp.

The switch is so sudden, Steven finds himself propelled into the headspace and disoriented as Marc suddenly takes front. Jake practically steadies Steven, irritated by Marc’s disregard for their agreement not to force each other to relinquish control of the body unless there’s real and present danger.

“I’m going to talk to her. We can’t let her go like this.” Marc is grabbing his jacket and keys and is out of the door before either of the others in the headspace can formulate a response.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

The look on your face when you open the door isn’t encouraging. At first there’s surprise, then a flash of irritation before it’s replaced with a false cheer.

“Hey Marc, what’re you doing here?” Your pyjama-clad body is distinctly blocking the doorway, and you're not inviting them in. Marc feels Steven’s panic rise in the headspace and it solidifies his resolve. Jake is too busy watching the tension vibrate through your body under the baggy hoodie and loose pyjama bottoms, a slight bend in your middle like you’re trying to hide something. Those gears in his head pick up speed.

“Can I - can we come in?” Marc’s hands are clenched into tight, slightly shaking fists. Your eyes flash to them before returning to his face. You seem reluctant, but Marc is practically gravitating towards the door frame.

Is she scared of us? Steven’s noticed your tense posture too, but his voice is quiet beneath the chaos whirling in Marc’s mind.

There’s a pause in which neither of you give an inch, but your eyes dart to his clenched fists again and you seem to shrink in on yourself a little more. Then - “Uh… sure.” You step aside and let them in. They’re barely over the threshold of your tiny apartment when their body jolts and Steven blurts out -

“I’m so sorry! Whatever it is I’m - we’re - so sorry. Please tell us what’s wrong so that we can fix it! I promise -“

“What?” You cut his rambling off, bewildered by not just his words, but the mental whiplash of such a rapid alter-change.

“I know you’re not okay with us right now but please, my love, we can’t lose you. Please give us a chance to fix this -“

“ - Steven - “

“ - Did something happen? Did one of us do something - “

“ - Marc - “

“ - Whatever it is, love, we didn’t mean it. We love you so much, please don’t leave us -”

“ - Steven, please, stop - “

Somehow they’ve crowded into your space and you find yourself backed against the cupboard by the door, their closeness blocking any escape opportunity you might have had and the rapid changing of who’s in charge of the body is disorienting. It’s the flash of fear that crosses your face that brings the hurricane to a halt.

For a moment, Steven’s face goes blank, his body going still in mid-movement like his brain is rebooting. Then their face floods with life again and you instantly recognise Jake staring back at you.

He’s unnervingly calm, and there’s a softness to his features. Even his hands are pointedly relaxed by his sides as he takes a deliberate step back away from you. You wonder if he saw the fear that spasmed through you at Marc’s imposing behaviour, maybe he’s trying to put you at ease.

“Honey… are you sick?” His dark eyes hold yours steadily, something swirling in their depths.

Despite the gentle tone of his voice, you’re startled for a second, heart still pounding from the onslaught they’ve just accidentally hurled at you.

You take a second to assess the man standing in front of you. You find no aggression, no threat, just concern - and is that fear? - on his face. Thoughts start to rush through your head. You’ve managed to keep this regular nightmare under wraps in your relationship so far, and although you knew it would be unavoidable eventually, do you really want to be having this discussion right now? Did you really want to drag them into this… mess? But Jake’s velvet eyes are swallowing you whole and words leave your mouth without your permission.

“Sort of.”

You sigh, giving in to the inevitable and releasing some of the tension keeping you upright. Your instincts drag your torso down, curling protectively around your middle just a little bit - despite wanting to collapse completely. Jake sees it, and suddenly sympathy passes across his face.

“Do you have everything you need? I’ll go to the store for you if you need anything. Or find a doctor, there’s got to be an out-of-hours service.”

You want to cry at the soft affection in his tone. You feel your soul latch onto Jake’s just a little more, and suddenly you crave his company - Marc and Steven’s too if they’ll have you.

“It’s fine. Right now I just need to sit down.” You admit quietly.

Jake swears at himself. He should have thought of it sooner - he’d seen how pale you’ve been and the tension in your body for the last 24 hours, of course you need to rest.

His mind is already supplying potential causes - illness, stress, depression - but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions in case he misses something essential.

He’s already moving as these thoughts spin in his mind. One hand extends towards you but stops short of touching. He hasn’t forgotten the way you practically flinched out of your own skin when Steven tried to hug you earlier. Instead his other hand reaches blindly behind him to gently close the door and he settles for following carefully behind you as you head back into your apartment. He darts forward to snatch a fallen blanket out of your path as you carefully take a tense seat on the far end of the sofa, a worrying reflection of your positioning in their apartment a short time before.

His eyes catalogue several things in a few short seconds - blanket on the floor, wheat bag on the arm of the sofa, painkillers, chocolate and a hot drink on the table in front of you. You refused to eat with them earlier, didn’t want to be touched, seemed to flinch at sounds and movement… Something clicks in Jake’s head, and he hears Marc reach the same conclusion a second later. Steven takes a moment or two longer, but the flush of relief mixed with slight shame at his delayed understanding is potent when it arrives.

“Honey, you don’t have to stand on ceremony for us. Lay down.”

Your face drops with relief, and as you crawl unceremoniously across your sofa and curl up across two of the three seat cushions, Jake offers the blanket out towards you. After a second of hesitation, you gratefully open your arms to let him settle the blanket over your curled form.

Jake drops into a crouch in front of you as he gently pulls the blanket up to your waist, careful not to touch you. Tilting his head slightly to match your eye-line, he keeps his voice soft.

“Is it always this bad?”

A flush fires across your cheeks, and Jake hopes his face shows the completely genuine lack of awkwardness he feels.

In the headspace, Steven has paused. He’s never experienced a partner who suffers this way before, but his academic brain is already analysing it from a more abstract perspective, and it isn’t making him uncomfortable. In fact, he’s preoccupied with all the potentially useful information he’s come across.

Marc isn’t awkward either, quite the opposite. He’s had partners before, and although they’ve never had much more than mild discomfort and a few days of not wanting to be intimate, he’s aware it isn’t that easy for everyone. Jake can hear the concern in his thoughts.

As if you can read his mind, a frown forms between your brows as you ask “What’s wrong, Jake?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Marc wants to know if you’ve seen a doctor about it. He’s worried because he knows it can be a symptom of other things.” Relief and understanding wash over your features. “Yeah… They did a load of tests last year and didn’t find anything, thank God. Apparently I just get it pretty bad. I have to go back for a checkup every year just to make sure but they don’t expect anything to turn up.” Jake is nodding. “Good. I mean, not good, obviously but -”. You chuckle softly. “- It’s okay Jake, I know what you mean.” He nods again, quiet for a moment before he sighs and shakes his head. “Okay, fine… Steve wants me to tell you that he knows you’ve probably tried everything on the whole planet, but he’s happy to look up some natural remedies that people recommend.”

A look of adoration passes across your face before it twists into a playfully-irritated smirk as Jake continues. “ - I mean, I hear an extensive sex session is the best remedy -”

You snort and shake your head, swatting at his arm. He sniggers and watches as your expression falls, your jaw working like you’re trying to figure something out. Jake cocks his head to the side. “What’re you thinking, honey?”

You can’t meet his gaze, staring instead at the fraying edge of your blanket. Your voice is so soft Jake has to strain to hear you. “Are they mad at me?”

He can’t hide his surprise. “What? Why would they be mad at you?”

You shrug. Jake sighs. “We - It’s just that we were worried we’d done something wrong. Y’know, having a relationship with someone who has a life like ours isn’t easy -

You cut him off abruptly. “Your first thoughts were that one of you had done something wrong? You automatically assumed it must be your fault?”

Jake is aware of Marc’s tension in the headspace as he listens in. This wasn’t Jake’s explanation to give, but he also knows he’s the only one who can give it. “For Marc especially, he grew up always being blamed for things by his mom, punished whenever anything went wrong even if he wasn’t there. Steven got some of it too, although he doesn’t really remember it. It’s so built in it’s hard to break away from, y’know?”

He feels Marc’s shame, feels him draw back further into the headspace. Steven is tense too, a whirl of thoughts fighting for dominance as he observes both his headmates simultaneously.

A devastating look of sadness settles on your face, and Jake vows that he never wants to see it again if he can help it. Somewhere in the back of his head he knows they will see it again, not least when they finally tell you their full story. Your words interrupt Jake’s thoughts abruptly.

“I’m gonna need a quiet word with your mother.”

Jake releases a startled laugh, feeling Steven’s bafflement and Marc’s flinch in the headspace. The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them.

“Lucky for you she’s already dead.”

What the fuck man?! Marc exclaims in the same moment as Steven squeaks Oh my God, Jake…

A stricken look crosses your face, and Jake has to take a few deep breaths - not least to try and hush his headmates while he formulates a response.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t exactly say I’m filled with grief after everything -” He cuts himself off, watching your mouth open and close a fews times soundlessly before he clarifies. “I promise we’ll tell you everything, just… not right now.”

Your mouth snaps shut as you nod jerkily, and Jake offers you what he hopes is a reassuring look before he turns his attention inwards again for a moment.

He senses his headmates are settling again, going off into their own thoughts once more. Leaving them to themselves, he turns his attention back to you and finds you watching his face carefully.

“They’re okay.”

You nod, a look of relief settling on your face. After a second’s hesitation, Jake holds his hand out carefully in front of him - inviting you to take it but not touching you without your permission. After a moment’s pause you close the short distance and lightly entwine your fingers with his. Your eyes glitter as your voice comes out in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, it just makes my skin really sore - like I’ve got a fever. And I get kind of overloaded, y’know? Noises, and how things feel, and everything takes so much energy -”

Jake’s already shaking his head, well aware of these things in himself, and particularly in Marc and Steven.

“ - You don’t need to explain honey, just tell me what you need.”

#Moon Knight #moon knight fanfiction #Moon Knight fan fiction #Moon Knight fanfic #Moon Knight fan fic #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac characters

[fictive-fodder]

|| Steven Grant vs. You : III ||

A tiny story where you discover that your sweet, handsome coworker is just as much into Egyptology as you are into ancient Greece- and the playful battle that ensues.

PART I - PART II - PART III

Word Count: 2.9K

Tag List

Read this on A03!

Referenced works- Hesiod. Theogony and Works and Days (Oxford World's Classics) OUP Oxford. Richard Mayde. Ancient Egypt, Dodd, Mead Gerald D. Waxman, Astronomical Tidbits: A Layperson's Guide to Astronomy

Let us begin our singing. It will haunt this great and holy mountain, and we will dance on our soft feet round the violet-dark spring and the altar of the mighty son of Kronos. We will bathe our gentle skin in Permessos. Then, on the highest slope we will make our dances, fair and lovely, stepping lively in time. From there we go forth, veiled in thick mist, and walk by night, uttering beautiful voice. 

So said mighty Zeus’ daughters, they breathed into me wondrous voice, so that I should celebrate things of the future and things that were aforetime. Come now, from the Muses let us begin, as they tell of what is and what shall be and what was aforetime, voices in unison. The words flow untiring from their mouths, and sweet. 

“I mean… just wow…” Steven sighed, eyes twinkling at you from across your desk. 

“I know.” You nodded with deep satisfaction. 

“You’re right, too.” he continued, “You really do get this sense that they were there.” 

“It feels like it, huh?” you agreed, “With ancient Egypt, you have Pharaoh as the representative of higher power, but there isn’t this deep and messy interaction with the gods that I’ve come to love so much out of Greek myth. Especially when historical artists made work where they themselves interacted with gods, or were at least in conversation with them, like this or like Sappho.” 

Lately, when Steven worked mornings, he had taken to peering into your cubicle on his breaks to see if you weren’t too busy for him to visit. It was quickly becoming your favorite ritual, and you found yourself often looking past your cubicle’s entrance as if you could will his curly head of hair to appear. 

“I think the closest equivalent I can come to is the temple of Philae…” Steven thought aloud, he leaned over your desk excitedly. You smiled, nodding as you thought of the description of it in the book Steven lent you. 

Close by this temple of Osiris at Philae was a small one, dedicated to his queen and sister, Isis. A later writer speaks of it as “the most strangely wild and beautiful spot he ever beheld. Here spreads a deep drift of silvery sand, fringed by rich verdure and purple blossoms; there, a grove of palms, intermingled with flowering acacia; and there, through vistas of craggy cliffs and gloomy foliage, gleams a calm blue lake, with the sacred island in the midst, green to the water’s edge, except where the walls of the old temple city are reflected.”  

“From the little I’ve glimpsed so far, it seems like Osirus and Isis’ marriage is a very popular story?”

“Oh, yea, super.” Steven nodded significantly. “And for good reason too- I mean sewing your husband’s body back from fourteen pieces is quite a testimony to your love, I think.” There was a quiet pause as you took a moment to make sure the two of you were still being ignored, before Steven continued, “Is there a love story you like from Greek mythology?” 

“Oh-” you took in a deep breath, overwhelmed by the question. “There are so many… I mean so, so many. You have the big ones, you know- like Odysseus and Penelope, Patroclus and Achilles, Hades and Persephone, the love triangle of Aphrodite, Ares and Hephaestus… the Greeks adored a good love story. They had 8 different kinds of Love, after all.” 

“Eight, really?” Steven asked, leaning even further over your desk, his smile unfading. 

“Yes! You have Storge, familial love. Philautia, self love. Agape, which I quite like, that’s love for everyone.”

“Ooh that’s very grand.” Steven chuckled. 

“It is! Philia is also lovely- that’s deep friendship.” 

“Alright, that was four.”  he counted, tilting his head as he looked into your eyes. If there were any emails or phone calls incoming you would have never known. You met Steven’s gaze, smiling back at him and feeling, strangely, as if you couldn’t inhale as much air as you would like to.

“Mhm… then we have Mania, which is obsessive love. You know, when you can’t stop thinking about someone and you’re just-” you shook your head, grinning, “kinda like when you first fall in love for someone, really hard, and you can’t think about anything else, you’re just tortured?” 

A change passed over Steven’s face that was initially hard for you to read. At first, you thought the brightness of his eyes dimmed at your last words, but as you searched his face you realized that his eyes weren’t less bright due to dismay or boredom, they were less bright because his pupils were dilating as he watched you. Steven was so close to you that you could even see your own silhouette in his widening gaze. 

“Um…” you continued on, swallowing dryly, “A..Another favorite of mine, Ludus… which is playful love, or like- young love. Eros, probably the best known, as it’s the spicy one. And lastly you have the love I’m certain Osirus and Isis shared…”

“What’s that one called?” Steven asked, eyes widening. 

“Pragma, longstanding love… kind of the end goal, really.” 

You jumped with a start as your desk phone began to ring loudly. Steven cleared his throat, pulling himself off of your desk and back into his chair, rubbing the side of his face with one hand as you twisted to pick up your phone. You frowned as you recognized the number on caller i.d. to be the gift shop’s extension. “Ut oh Steven…” you mumbled, picking up the phone. “Reception- how can I help you?” you answered as neutrally as possible, but you almost lost your professional composure as you glanced nervously at Steven, and found him staring at you like a child caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

“Hello- could you please tell me if there is a gift shop employee in the office? His name is Stevie?”

“Stevie?” you repeated, confused. Steven rolled his eyes, exasperated. “No, there is definitely no Stevie here I’m sorry to say… office is pretty empty. Is there something I can help you wi-” the phone clicked in your ear. Frowning, you pulled the receiver away from you to look at it, before hanging up the line and looking at Steven.

“Did Donna just hang up on you?” he asked, startled. 

“I think she did?” you replied laughing, aghast. 

“Oi- I hate that, I’m sorry.” Steven grimaced, standing up. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.” 

“I’m not concerned, we work in two totally separate departments.” you shrugged. This seemed to reassure Steven as he patted down his pants pockets and made sure he had everything.

“Time to go sell some plastic ankhs?” you teased, grinning. 

“Oh yes.” Steven replied lamely. “Some Nike of Samothrace snow globes as well.” 

“Ouch- you got me.” you laughed, standing up too. You opened your mouth to ask about seeing him for lunch before you stopped yourself- what if you were being too demanding of his attention? With these new visits, any free time Steven had was being claimed by you. It felt presumptive to assume he wouldn’t like some time for himself. “Um… do you have any plans you're looking forward to, today?” 

“Finishing the Theogony, that’s about it.” Steven replied, stepping out of your cubicle. “Talk about it over lunch, yea?” 

You felt yourself blush. “If you want to!” 

“Cheers!” Steven exclaimed, before darting away. 

You sat back in your office chair and swiveled to face your computer, smiling to yourself. Steven was good. He was so, so good. Sighing dreamily, you refreshed your email and watched your screen filled with messages. 

As you clicked through your emails you couldn’t help but to keep thinking about Steven, how lucky you were to become friends after only a few weeks of working at the museum. Even though Donna and Steven’s relationship didn’t seem great, part of you envied the amount they got to interact as a team. Your role was mostly emails between curators, accountants, marketing agents, and the Liaison Department. 

You straightened in your chair as something occurred to you, hadn’t Steven said that he wanted to be a tour guide? You opened an email from Marketing briefing the Liaison Department on a new collection of work that would be showcased soon, asking the liaisons to study up on the attached pdf’s of art history so they could speak about the collection. You still hadn’t figured out why you seemed to be CC’d on every single email from any department under the museum roof, but now that didn’t seem so bad. They were all there- any branch manager you needed was available to you… even the curation team for the ancient Egyptian collection.

“What have you got today?” you asked as you sat down beside Steven in the break room. 

“I think what you mean is, what have I got us today!”’ Steven said triumphantly, as he pulled from his bag not one, but two lunches. 

“What!” you exclaimed, eyebrows raised. 

“Yea dove I made you lunch!” Steven grinned, all the more satisfied by your surprise. “It’s not bad either, we’ve got apples, some crisps, and avocado sandwiches! They’re quite good really, they’ve got lettuce and tomato in, and this spicy mustard.” 

Steven set your lunch before you with a level of excitement equal to a conductor beginning a symphony. All you could do was stare, and make some strange smile with your mouth partly open, as you looked between him and the slightly crumpled, but still appetizing sandwich before you. 

“I wanted to try and make this vegan caramel for the apples but I rather bungled that…” he continued, reminiscing on his caramel attempt with a cringe. 

“I’m-“ you started to say, but you didn’t actually know what you were. Aside from the obvious attributes: deeply flattered, touched, and surprised. There was a tightness in your throat that you’d only usually felt when you were about to cry, but there were no tears forming in your eyes. You stared at the sandwich as if it held monumental power. 

With a crunch, Steven bit into his apple. He nudged your arm with his elbow as he took another bite. You jumped a little and picked up your own. 

“Cheers!” Steven said, tapping his apple against yours. Chucking, you took a bite. 

You couldn’t have known how strange it was for Steven to be eating a lunch he made with a friend. He was nearly as surprised as you, that he was able to sit down with you today and provide this meal. Steven had never been very good about remembering to make himself up a lunch to take to work, but the idea of also making one for you, however modest it may be, was so exciting that it stuck in his mind. Instead of only remembering he should have packed food by the time he was clocking out for lunch, he had stopped at the market on the way home last night, imagining how this very moment would play out. As was usual, he had been hesitant to fall asleep, but the thought of having time in the morning to carefully assemble sandwiches gripped him with excitement and so he’d done his best, making sure his ankle restraint was tightly fastened to his leg no later than midnight, and stared up at his dark ceiling, silently begging it to let him sleep peacefully. 

When Steven woke up it was nearly dawn. He was so bewildered by the unique light of early morning that for a moment he thought he’d only slept for a few minutes. His ankle was still securely fastened to its brace, and even more profoundly, he felt rested. Steven felt like he had won, but there was also a bitter sweetness to realizing his night had gone exactly as intended- that it was unlikely to happen again, or consistently.

He tried to brush off that anxiety though, as he watched you take the first bite of the sandwich he made. Whether you were just being angelically polite or genuinely enjoying it, he appreciated your attention nevertheless. What was better? To try and have some plans, some gifts, some special moments never materialize- or to never meet the opportunity to surprise you and make you smile? 

That was an easy answer. 

“You failed to mention earlier,” Steven started, chewing through a large bite of bread, “what your favorite ancient Greek love story is?” 

“Oh right! Well that’s so difficult!” you groaned, grinning. “The reason may be nuanced, but I love Selene and Endymion’s story.” 

“What is it?” 

“Selene is the Moon goddess in the ancient Greek pantheon, and Endymion was a mortal shepherd Prince that would take his flock over hills and mountains at night. They fell in love, but because she was immortal and Endymion was not, Zeus extended his life by casting an eternal sleep upon Endymion.” 

“Alright?” Steven responded, gesturing for you to keep explaining. 

“That’s pretty much the whole story.” you laughed.

“Why is that your favorite then?” Steven asked, more spellbound than anything. 

“Because! Okay this might sound a little cheesy but-”

“Sorry, I can’t do cheese. I’m vegan, remember?” Steven said with mock severity. 

“Wow.” you replied flatly. You leaned back a little to watch Steven have a very hard time not laughing at his own joke. “Proud of yourself?” 

“Go on, keep telling me why-” he choked out, bringing his hands to cover his mouth. 

“No, no…” you replied, you resisted the twitch of a smile on your own face. “I don’t think I can after being eviscerated by your lactose free wit.” 

“Please-” Steven wheezed faintly, nodding encouragingly, “Please, tell me.” 

“Well-” you sighed haggardly, “What I was going to say is that I like it, because to me it feels metaphorical? No one should really ‘see’ the moon because it is at its best when we should be asleep, and yet we have and we do- and we have done for hundreds of years? Cultures with no connection all over the world have fallen in love with the Moon, which appears in its highest glory when our eyes should be closed? And I just think of that when thinking of Endymion. I think of how the night sky infatuates us, how humankind has always been so rhapsodic about it, even though as creatures we are useless in the dark and the night does little for anyone in a practical sense.

“Endymion is in this eternal sleep, induced by his love for the Moon… again, metaphorically, he’s fed by his affection for something so lovely? It just so simply encapsulates this understanding that people had way back then that even in a time of hardship, beauty was longed for and nourished humankind?” 

Steven had stopped eating. He was simply staring at you, eyebrows raised. 

“I know it sounds like I’ve thought about it too much- it’s because I do.” you qualified, embarrassed. 

“No-” Steven replied, voice soft, brow furrowed. “You’re alright… that was, that’s good.” 

You were not convinced that Steven was genuine in his reassurance. You cast your eyes downward, mind racing. This was an overstep on your part- you got a little too romantic, waxed a little too poetic about your favorite topic. You wanted to try to ground your thoughts. “Um… there’s an… there’s a quote from this book.” you offered weakly, pulling your phone out of your pocket for reference. 

You read aloud, “There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmon knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens… The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff.“ The quiet you were greeted with felt unbearable. Quickly tucking your phone back in your pocket, you smiled, and sighed. “I mean those are the words of an astronomer, but the ancient Greeks were saying the same thing- We can’t help ourselves. We’re all in love with the moon.”

Mania.  Steven thought.

“I…” Steven started, before stopping himself with a shake of his head. He still hadn’t touched any food. Sighing your name, Steven glanced into your eyes, head still shaking. “You… um, you think- You think very beautifully.” 

“Hah-” you breathed, it was a sound of deepest regret. Why? Why had you been so open. You could have probably cooked an egg on your cheek, it felt so warm. You were desperate for some way out of being the talkative one. “You know, I don’t actually know if there was a Moon god in the Egyptian pantheon?” 

“Oh-” Steven’s tone changed to something significantly less enchanted. “Yea. His name is Khonshu, god of the Moon, protector of those who travel at night.” 

“...not a fan?” you asked, unable to help smiling at how personally offended Steven seemed by invoking Khonshu. 

“Not really.” he replied, shrugging. 

“Aha!” you grinned, taking a triumphant bite of your apple. “And there it is.”

“What?” Steven asked.

“The beginning of the end, Steven.” you hummed, “Greek god versus Egyptian God, Selene beats Khonshu.” 

“HAH!” Steven laughed so loudly the rest of your coworkers in the break room glanced over. Why did this always happen to you two? Steven grasped at his chest, his eyes closed by the strength of his giggles. “Alright dove, that one you can have.”

TAG LIST:

@oliviagreenaway​  @then-he-was-wrong-about-me​  @b0xerdancer

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #steven grant / reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight x you #mcu moon knight #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight imagines #non binary reader #non binary fan fic #steven grant vs. you #fictive-fodder #fictive fodder

[avatarofseshat]

Meet Mr. Knight

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Just a short drabble. We need more of Steven in the suit.

Part Two - Truths

---

“You wanna dance, yeah?”

You would know that voice anywhere and it piqued your curiosity so you decided to change course to the direction you thought it came from. 

“Lie down, mate!” 

You heard as you came upon a dark alley and cautiously peered between the brick buildings. You blinked unsure of what you where seeing. You quietly observed as a figure dressed head-to-toe in a tailored white suit that nearly glowed in the moonlight. Even his head was covered hiding his identity. He skillfully fought off the crooks as the rest went running.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you where holding “Steven?”

Steven’s blood nearly ran cold at the sound of your voice. Why where you here? What did you see? What would you think? He took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his heart that was still pounding due to the adrenaline. 

You watched intently as he turned towards you and you let out a gasp at the sight of the glowing white eyes that observed you back. Your eyes involuntarily widened as the mask dissipated before your eyes revealing the soft brown eyes and curly ebony locks of the man you loved.

“(Y/N)…” he breathed as he closed the distance and embraced you “What are you doing here, love? Are you hurt? Did they…I’m…”

"I’m fine, Steven.” 

“Thank god,” he sighed as pressed his forehead to yours as you nuzzled into his neck. “Let’s get you home, yeah?" He could tell your mind was buzzing with questions "I’ll explain everything.”

#steven grant x reader #mr knight #mr knight x reader #steven grant #moon knight #mcu #marvel #moon knight fan fiction #mcu fanfic #the sun & the moon

[bigbadripley]

I Wish you Roses - Prologue

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn't help but notice how familiar he was. 

18+!! | 1,417 Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Eventual Smut | AU/AT | Warnings: OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, the effects of child abuse in adulthood, murder, suicide, alcohol use, drug mention, all the parents in this story are terrible, The only saving grace is Steven

A/N: The songs used for this fic may not have anything to do with the story besides my thoughts when I hear the chosen lyrics. That being said, the chapter titles won't always make sense. It's just an idea I had.

I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump. 

Lastly, Marc/Steven being involved and the addition of a traumatized psychiatrist is in no way meant to romanticize, fetishize, or otherwise; mental illness or illnesses/trauma. 

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"Never thought I would be without you I wish you love, I wish you well I wish you roses while you can still smell 'em With pretty flowers can come the bee sting" -"I Wish you Roses" by Kali Uchis

 I'm not great at writing like you are or brave enough to tell you all of this to your face. I don't even know if I'll be able to give you this note, but I want to try. I think you're great, and you should also see that in yourself. I like your hair and how soft it always is, same with your skin. I like the clothes you wear even though you don't always like them, you always look good. You're super funny and smart as fuck, and you're really pretty. I can't stop thinking about how cool it would be to not have to cut through the woods to get to your house anymore. Maybe we could get a place after graduation? I know your mom only likes me sometimes, and this is probably really weird to read, but I'm okay with just being best friends if you don't like me like that. I don't want things to be weird, so we can still run away and play bingo in the old folks home when we're 70. No matter what, I love you Moni. 

-Count Spector

P.S. if you read this and you don't like it please don't yell at me.

 It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon when they met. 

It likely wouldn't have happened if Steven hadn't insisted that he and Marc go see an actual therapist, and Marc finally broke, telling him to go on his own. 

Ever since the divorce was finalized, Marc had been acting this way. They both obviously had their issues, but Marc was convinced that Steven would likely be his only companion again from then on.

That was what drove Steven to try and seek professional guidance. How do two people living in a single body branch out and get to know other people? He took the first step by finding a psychiatrist in the area. 

Steven wasn't sure what to expect when he picked Dr. Dooley, a polite-looking gent who was likely 60 years old. He just knew one person with an open appointment slot had experience with their problems. 

He arrived 20 minutes early in hopes of getting their paperwork filled out and getting in sooner. Neither he nor Marc expected to walk into the waiting room and be stopped dead in their tracks. 

Directly behind the reception desk was a wooden door with a metal plaque that dawned "Dr. Simone Fredrick" on it, and to the side was a crystal clear glass window to the office. 

The blinds were drawn, and they spotted a woman in a yellow button-up top through that window. This woman had long dark hair, skin that took the same tone as a cup of London Fog, and the sweetest smile that fit perfectly to the lower half of her face. She was chatting with another man who was barely visible through the window but was clearly the doctor they came to see. 

She was the most incredible woman Steven had ever laid eyes on. It was terrifying for him.

Without further deliberation, Marc backed them out of the office and outside. "Steven, Holy shit!" He said.

"She was gorgeous, yeah?" Steven replied. Marc popped back in, feeling slightly panicky. 

"We can't go back in there."

Steven felt Marc's anxiety but couldn't pinpoint why he was suddenly feeling this way. "Why the bloody hell not? We have an appointment!"

"I know that woman, or I knew her, at least," Marc said. Steven took control, thinking he had never seen her before, and stepped over to look through the glass doors. 

There she was, still talking to Dr. Dooley. She turned her head in their direction, and he moved to the side of the building again before she could spot them.

"How do you know her?" Steven asked, trying to make sense of it.

"We were friends in school. She was probably the only friend I had. She's-"

"She's so attractive it's unreal. I gotta meet her." Steven insisted. Marc took back over without warning and began walking in the opposite direction of the office.

"Nope. Absolutely not. Odds are she'll recognize me, and it'll be weird." 

Just as quickly, Steven changed their direction. "She won't recognize me, though." He said. Marc wouldn't budge on the subject. Knowing Simone, she would clock him right away. He pivoted and began walking the other way again.

"Right, the guy who shares a whole fuckin' face with me. Genius! We're going home."

"Why are you the one chickening out?" Steven asked, stopping them where they were, realizing to passersby they must look nuts pacing back and forth.

"Because I know she's gonna take one good look at us and say 'Marc motherfucking Spector' and hit me! And she's got a ruthless right hook that I don't think either of us wanna be on the business end of." 

As he spoke, he started taking off further down the sidewalk. 

Under no circumstances are we coming back to this place. Moni looks happy, let's not fuck that up. Marc thought to himself. Steven had just about given in to Marc's insistence.

"Excuse me?" They heard a sweet, American voice speak up from behind them. They stopped and turned around slowly to find Simone, who had seen them looking through the door after all, waiting for them to respond. 

Steven got in the driver's seat, and Marc retreated back to his corner of their collective brain. 

"Oh, hi." Steven greeted. 

Simone couldn't quite place it: she had seen this man before. Somewhere, somehow. She was surprised that he had a local accent, seeing as she didn't know many locals, particularly ones this gorgeous. She figured there wasn't any harm in coming out and asking. 

"Do I know you? I saw you from inside, and I could've sworn-"

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure," Steven said, holding his hand out. "Steven Grant," He introduced himself as casually as he could muster. She was even more beautiful up close.

Though Simone found him charming, she indeed hadn't met him before. She stuck her hand out and shook,

"Simone Fredrick." She greeted. She found him quite handsome when he wasn't creeping through her office door. So much so that their handshake was dragging on a bit longer than average. 

The pair realized this at the same time and pulled their hands away. Simone gestured to the building they were standing by, realizing there was zero context to how she spotted him. "I work just inside there, by the way. I'm taking lunch now, but I can help if you were looking for someone through that door." She said, followed by a laugh. 

Steven found the humor in it, realizing they hadn't backed out soon enough and admiring how adorable she was about teasing him for it. "Just never been in that building before. Wanted to see what it was all about... psychiatry and all." He told her awkwardly. 

Simone sensed this was a lie, but Steven spoke up again before she could overthink it. "You got a business card?" He asked. 

There was silence between them for a second as Simone thought about it. Business card? Like, he wants my office number? Who am I, Patrick Bateman? 

"I don't, actually. But-" Simone stopped and dug through her bag for a moment, pulling out a pen and an old punch card to a bubble tea place nearby. She put the card on the brick wall and wrote out her office number before, in a feat of spontaneity, she also wrote her personal cell number. "The first one is the number to the office, with my direct extension. The other is my cell." She told him as the card changed hands. 

Steven looked at the card and smiled, noticing how professional her handwriting looked and how she crossed her sevens. "I'll be using these." He told her. He took a second to think if he should ask her to lunch right then and there but realized how quiet Marc was. 

Shit, he thought. I should get home and talk to him about this. 

"I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Simone." Steven said, backing up down the sidewalk. Simone flashed him a million-dollar grin and nodded,

"You, as well, Steven."

#moon knight #moon knight fan fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fan fiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel mcu #fan fiction #fan fic #mcu fanfiction #marc spector #steven grant #mcu #mcu fic #iwishyouroses #female oc #eventual smut #darkfic #angst #trauma #minors dni