#steven grant angst

[hsllfirescoopsreblogs]

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「 ✦ moon knight boys ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all moon knight boys stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

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MASTERLIST ✩ OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS ✩ 4/18/24

★ @mgparker

☼ comeback to me

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

☼ should’ve listened

☾ your tendency to put your loved ones above you puts you in what would’ve been a deadly situation, had you not been an avatar of the goddess of the sun.

★ @starryevermore

☼ more hearts than mine

☾ marc and jake have made it clear that they don’t like you. but your heart is not the only one being broken by their actions and the consequences that follow. 

☼ not what he thinks pt2

☾ steven overhears something, but he doesn’t understand what he heard. 

★ @spacecowboyhotch

☼ proper date

☾ steven gains some knowledge about how he and reader met…and some about himself.

☼ the honey girl

☾ sometimes the meddling of old men pays off.

☼ unlikely

☾ a look into how marc and reader met.

★ @moonlight-prose

☼ kiss me once

☾ dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.

★ @loud-mouth-loser

☼ not him

☾ you’ve been steven’s best friend for a while and have had a crush on him as long as you’ve known him. unfortunately, his eyes are on layla, his alter’s wife. let's just say, you’re not the only one put off by this. this is a story of how you and marc bond over your sorrows

★ @sarahghetti

☼ can you pretend to be my boyfriend

☾ the boys pretend to be your boyfriend in order to save you from a creepy stranger.

★ @popquizhot-shot

☼ magic

☾ you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

★ @runa-falls

☼ reciprocation2 pt 3

☼ request

★ @soft-girl-musings

☼ salt and pepper

☾ Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

★ @romanarose

☼ misunderstanding

☾ When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.

★ @primosworld

☼ blueberry pancakes

☾ You’re frustrated with Jake not being apart of your relationship so you take matters into your own hands.

★ @projectionistwrites

☼ imploding the mirage

☾ You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside?

★ @heartthrobin

☼ press your tulips to mine

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

☼ my bleeding dream, my shadow in the light

☾ you were convinced, no: you were sure, that Jake Lockley couldn't stand the sight of you. then why was he consistently banging at your door in the middle of the night, dripping in blood and begging to be stitched up?

★ @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

☼ what you like

☾ Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

☼ embrace

☾ The reader is dating them but is kind of scared of Jake (is very quiet and weary around him, doesn't like his physical touch) because he was cold and mean to her when they first met (he wanted to "protect" Steven) but now all he wants is to hold and love her. The opportunity finally arrives when she's sick and needs his help. (He forcefully fronts bc he's not letting this opportunity go to waste)

★ @bibli0thecary

☼ in the stars

☾ steven finds it hard to believe that you’re gone, while marc is forced to live with endless regret, and jake continues to blame himself for everything.

☼ no one can hurt you

☾ they would never bring you into the face of danger, but what if danger comes preying on you? 

★ @ichorai

☼ dlz

☾ jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

☼ love dog

☾ your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him

★ @foli-vora

☼ there’s always tomorrow

☾ Steven needed a wingman. Or maybe he already had one, he just didn’t know it.

★ @petertingle-yipyip

☼ so long london

☾ Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love..

★ @peterman-spideyparker

☼ celebrate

☾ The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

★ @freelancearsonist

☼ wingman

☼ oh, bollocks

☾ reader is a teacher, au where steven got promoted to tour guide and is living his Best Life, lots of fluff and pining

★ @pulchritudinousrogers

☼ missed date

☾ Set before the events of Moon Knight, you work in the museum like Steven and have been crushing on each other for a while but neither of you have even approached each other. Marc steps in to help Steven out, but things don’t go well.

★ @marc-spectorr

☼ the morning after

☾ as steven watches you sleep, he starts to wonder whether you deserve to be with a man as broken as he is.

★ @foreverinadais

☼ the break up

☾ in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date.

★ @howaboutcastiel

☼ not my intention

☾ They notice she gets anxious and startled very easily, but when they bring it up she always brushes them off so they don't pry. They don’t know she's previously been in an abusive relationship. And maybe they're at an office party and some guy comes to her when she's alone and the boys get jealous since it's obvious he's trying to flirt with their girl.

★ @pinchofhoney

☼ just one word

☾ You may not be aware of their existence having only met Steven, but no Marc Spector alter will let anything happen to you.

★ @marvelsswansong

☼ clumsy

☾ you're extremely clumsy. Steven worries. Marc finds it amusing. Jake gets protective. But they all love you for it nonetheless.

★ @astroboots and @thirstworldproblemss

☼ red flags

☾ Sweet as he is, dating Steven means you have to be willing to ignore a few red flags along the way. 

★ @grantspectortrash

☼ suited and booted pt2 pt3

☾ you live across the hall from Steven. For whatever reason, he has to use your shower before going to a work event. You get the pleasure of seeing him in a suit.

★ @mknightgrant

☼ silence

☾ You should’ve stopped asking questions. 

★ @mkfluffluv

☼ a future without you

☾ marc lost you to the snap and after 5 years of dealing with his grief by maiming people, he finally gets you back.

☼ keep the secret?

☾ marc and steven had gotten themselves sick. luckily for them, they have a wonderful and loving partner who’s willing to take care of them(you). unbeknownst to you, another person is taking care of them in their own way. (yes it’s jake.)

★ @little-worm-grant

☼ uncomplicated

☾ Deep down you knew Jake wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t think he needed you. Or maybe that’s what you told yourself to make it more tolerable to be out of your warm bed at this hour.

★ @mccn-bcys

☼ just a touch of your hand pt2 pt3

☾ when you turn eighteen, an ink stain appears on your skin wherever your soulmate touches you for the first time. the boys each are dealing with their stain in their own way.

★ @missdictatorme

☼ open my eyes

☾ Jake and Steven were more than happy when you agreed to be in a relationship with them, but Marc barely fronts when you're near. Will he warm up to you over time?

★ @wysteria-clad

☼ our little thing

☾ you have a specific thing with each of them. It's not like you don't do it with other two, but you do enjoy a little act of intimacy that is special to each of them.

★ @m00nsbaby

☼ the already over

☼ weightless

☾ The feeling of being trapped goes beyond the ankle bracelet that keeps him tied to the bed.

★ @bruhstories

☼ canonic jar

☾ marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.

★ @oswildin

☼ good day

☾ You and Steven work at the museum together, little did he know you had a crush on the man. After getting yourself into trouble, you and Steven are both punished with an evening in inventory.

☼ take on me pt2

☾ You end up on an accidental date with Steven, but it ends up being the best date you could’ve asked for. It leads into more, but things aren’t as simple as they appear. With adoration strong for the man, you take a chance on him.

★ @eyelessfaces

☼ formal wear

★ @bensolosbluesaber

☼ the jake problem pt2

☾ Jake hates you. Like really hates you, which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t dating Steven and Marc. But maybe, just maybe, Jake doesn’t hate you

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant angst #steven grant fluff #steven grant imagine #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #marc spector series #marc spector smut #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley smut #jake lockley fluff #jack lockley series #jack lockley angst #moon knight boys #moon knight system

[thesecretwriter]

how each moon boy would react to an argument with you (sfw) – part 1.  

summary: what the title says!

warning: angsty angst.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: I’m feeling angsty lately, so here you gooo! ALSO, there’s more context to the situation of these headcanons, but they’ll be revealed in part 2. So don’t go hating on the moon boys just yet.

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 2

Steven Grant:

“Are you really gonna bring this up now?”

His tone had you looking at him as if he grew another head.

“When else would be a good time to bring this up, hmm? Because I think now is the most appropriate time,”

Steven rolled his eyes as he took off his jacket and sat on the couch facing you.

He had come home from significantly late with no explanation. You found out through social media that he went to an event celebrating Layla without informing you.

“Its late and I’m tired,” he said as he rubbed his face and sighed heavily.

Oh, he is tired?

“You don’t think I’m tired? I understand you have a past with Layla, but the way you go about doing things is exhausting me. All you ever do is talk about her. Everything is Layla this and Layla that,”

You explain to him out of frustration.

“She was right about you,” he says with a hint of sass.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“I mean that maybe Layla was right about you being controlling. Why do you think I never told you where I’m going. You would’ve tagged along and dampened the mood.

Wow, wow. So, Layla and he talk about you.

“I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth. If you have an issue with the way I am then you should address it to me. Not go and talk to your EX-WIFE about it,” your voice had increased towards the end as you glared at him.

“Its not my problem if you’re insecure,” he said with a shrug.

Each word from him added more cracks to your already breaking heart.

You shook your head at him wordlessly and began to look for your bag and jacket around his apartment.

He sat upright on the couch and watched you with confused furrowed brows.

“What’re you doing?”

Once you gathered your things, you walked towards the door with him now trailing behind you.

“I asked you a question,” he said firmer.

You looked at him with unshed tears and saw his expression soften.

“Leaving,” was all you said before unlocking the door and walking away from him.

Steven cursed under his breath and walked after you.

“Y/n, its late. Stop being ridiculous,”

That ticked your off even further. You abruptly turn around to face him.

“I don’t expect you to be concerned about me anymore. Go ahead and worry about your precious Layla and her thoughts on our relationship,”

You left him standing their speechless as you exited his apartment building. Steven was left feeling an ache in his chest and the weight of his actions and words.

Marc Spector:

“Look at the state of you,”

Were the first words Marc heard upon returning to the apartment. He had been gone for days and you had no way of contacting him.

“Y/n, please. I just want silence,” he said tiredly and sat lethargically on the bed.

“You can’t expect me to not be panicked when you come home with a gunshot wound. Did you even go to a hospital?” you ask in disbelief.

“I can take care of these things on my own,” he groaned and moved to face you.

“Marc, I can’t keep seeing you like this,” you admit to him.

Each time he left that door you would say a silent prayer to ensure he would come back to you.

“You knew what this relationship was going to be like-“

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to be coming home like this,” you motion to his form.

Marc was growing annoyed.

“This is my life y/n, what do you want me to do?”

Your eyes searched his tired ones as he spoke.

“Exactly Marc, this is your life. I want you to take care of it,”

He scoffed at your words.

“I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life,” he said bitterly.

“That’s not what I’m-“

“Save it, okay? I already deal with enough when it comes to Khonshu. I don’t want to deal with you as well,”

“Deal with me? What? Marc, what have I ever done to make you feel like this? Me being worried about whether your alive or not upsets you?” you asked a string of questions as endless thoughts ran through your mind.

“Just go,” is all he said as he turned his back to you and laid on the bed.

You watch his form, waiting for him to take back his words, apologise… do something – but he just lays there.

You nod to yourself and gather your belongings to leave. It was well into the night and significantly late, but you did as he said and walked out that front door.

He laid in bed with his thoughts, thinking whether pushing you away was the right choice.

Jake Lockley:

You walked into the bar to see him stood rather close to an unknown woman.

With anger running through your veins, you walk up to him and see his eyes slightly widen when he sees your approaching him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked with a monotone.

“I’ve been waiting for you at home for the passed 3 hours,” you said as calmly as you could.

The woman standing close to him looked surprised at your words but made no move to walk away from the obvious situation.

“You should’ve kept waiting,” he said uninterested as he took a sip from his drink.

You watch him with narrowed eyes as he looked back to you.

“Is this how its going to be? You’re going to act like a total stranger in public and my boyfriend in private?” you asked feeling hurt.

He hummed at your words and sat up straight in his seat at the bar.

“You’re clingy,” was all he said, knowing that those words would hit you harder than anything else.

Throughout your life, you always had someone to be around. Your parents, siblings, friends and now in a foreign country you found solace with Jake spent every waking moment with him when you could. It was normal for you, and he didn’t seem to mind it.

“Clingy?” you asked as you choked back tears.

Jake clenched his jaw slightly before relaxing and putting his arm around the shoulders of the woman next to him.

“You heard me,” he said with a chuckle.

You took in a deep breath to compose yourself. Clearly you were not wanted nor needed here.

“Okay, if that’s what you think. You can have all the space you want from now on,” you said and turned to walk away.

“Is she actually you girlfriend?” asked the unnamed woman.

“One of many, hermosa,” he said under his breath.

#steven grant #steven grant headcanons #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant angst #marc spector #marc spector headcanons #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector angst #jake lockley #jake lockley headcanons #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley fanfic #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley x reader #jake lockey angst #moonknight #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight fanfic #angst

[petertingle-yipyip]

SO LONG LONDON - STEVEN GRANT

Pairing: steven x reader (established) (and then marc shows up)

Word Count: 2,489

Summary: Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love.

//honestly idk what happened here, just go with it//

It made no sense.

You two were scheduled together all the time. Donna claimed it was the only way to make sure Steven actually showed up to his shifts. And for the most part, it worked. Occasionally, you two would have a day or two different and he wouldn’t show or would be ridiculously late. But you were usually able to explain it away to your manager so Steven wouldn’t get in trouble.

But now, it has been three straight days of Steven pulling no-calls-no-shows. Even when you tried to call him, it went straight to voicemail. Like his phone wasn’t even on.

You were walking around the city that day after work. You picked up some lunch and were looking at your phone, contemplating whether or not you wanted to try calling out texting him again, but the sharp whizz of a woman on a moped cut you off.

You stopped so suddenly in your tracks that your phone fell from your hands as you scrambled to catch your food.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman said quickly, suddenly in front of you with your phone in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off and held a hand out for your phone. She went to pass it back to you but her eyes lingered on your screen where Steven’s contact photo was waiting.

“It was my fault for not looking.” You tried while she quietly stared at the screen. Your fingers hooked on your device and with a slight tug, you got it back.

“I’m Layla, by the way.” She said when you had moved to leave.

“Y/N.” You nodded. “Nice to meet you.” You tried to leave again but she spoke up.

“Boyfriend?”

“What?”

“The guy on your phone.” She gestured to your hand where your phone still sat. As subtle as possible, your thumb hit the lock button to hide the photo that was still waiting. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “He’s M.I.A. right now so I’m starting to worry. Normal girlfriend things, y’know? He’s a bit of a sleepwalker so…” You finished awkwardly.

“Would you…” She began and your brows raised. “Would you wanna get some coffee maybe? I think we should talk some more.”

“Oh, well.. Thank you but I should get home. I’m like three missed calls away from a missing persons report.” You tried to joke.

“It’s just that your boyfriend looks an awful lot like my husband.”

“What?” Your heart sunk.

“Yeah, uh..” She hurried to pull her phone from her bag. “My husband, Marc Spector. Maybe you’ve heard his name? He comes and goes for work but then I got a call and now I’m here trying to find him.”

“Oh!” You sighed in relief. “Okay, it’s probably a coincidence because my boyfriend’s name is.. Steven… Gra…”

Your sentence trailed off as Layla showed you her screen and a photo of her and someone who looked exactly like Steven faced you. His posture was different and you assumed his aura was as well. His hair was styled differently and he even wore different clothes than Steven would. Too similar to ignore but too different to convince you.

“Wow, um, that resemblance really is… Y’know what, maybe we should get some coffee.” You agreed.

After a while of you two talking, neither of you were convinced the other person was talking about the same person. Layla’s ‘Marc’ seemed to have a completely different personality than Steven. He seemed rougher, insufferable even. To be able to completely abandon your wife with no explanation was borderline appalling, and Steven would never. He hardly even went to run errands without giving you a full list of everywhere he intended to go.

As far as you could tell, the only similarity was their looks.

You offered to bring her to Steven’s apartment to show her that he was a different person with a different life. But when you knocked, your usual habit just in case he was home, he actually answered the door.

“Hello, Love.” He smiled at you, though the expression quickly faded when he saw yours. “Something wrong?”

“Steven, this is Layla. Layla, Steven.” You introduced before she had pushed past you both and into the apartment.

Steven looked at you in confusion but you smiled in apology with a small shrug. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in so you did. Layla was investigating the small space and Steven was staying close to your side. You could feel his fingers tapping the back of your hand, his silent request to interlock your fingers together, but you put your hands in your jacket pocket instead.

“This is your flat, Marc?” She asked and you were thankful someone finally spoke to break the tension.

“I’m Steven, actually.” He answered.

“And you live here with her?” She gestured to you.

“No.” You answered for yourself. “I stay a few blocks over.”

“It’s my mum’s flat, actually.” Steven defended.

“You guys are talking again?” She asked as she found one of the poetry books on his shelves.

They exchanged remarks about the French poet and the hieroglyphics on Steven’s desk. You watched quietly and were finding nothing that could indicate Steven was Marc. But then again, the one French poet he knew just so happened to be Layla’s favorite. And his explanation of hieroglyphs was the same as hers.

Was it possible?

While the two turned to argue about divorce papers and Steven’s identity, you were distracted by the unusual gym bag on the table. You glanced and saw them take their conversation to another side of the room so you went over to the bag. You were thankful it was already unzipped so you pulled the sides apart and were dumbfounded by what you saw.

Stacks of money, a gun, a golden bug, and a passport.

You were drawn to the document so you pulled it out quietly and opened it, seeing a different name printed on the page.

“Marc Spector.” You read to yourself and your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

“Who’s Marc?” You asked suddenly, drawing attention to yourself. You held up the passport expectantly.

“Oh, jeez, uh…” Steven rushed over, crumbling the divorce papers under his arm as he reached for the passport.

“No.” You held it further away. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, love. You know me.” He tried, almost desperate for you to be on his side.

“I don’t think I do.” You said sadly. “Who’s Marc? Is he your twin brother or something?”

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly.

“He is Marc and he needs to tell me if we’re getting this divorce or not.” Layla spoke up and snatched the papers from under Steven’s arm.

“You seem lovely, Layla, truly. But I’m not Marc Spector.” He insisted and you so badly wanted to believe him. “I’m Steven Grant and I work at a gift shop. Well, I used to work at a gift shop. I just want my life back.”

“Doesn’t seem like you know which life that is, do you?” You slammed the passport against his chest.

“Y/N, please wait.” He reached for your hand but you backed away.

You nearly ran down the hall to the elevator. You needed to get away. From Layla. From Steven or Marc or whoever the hell he was.

It felt like you didn’t know him anymore. A different name you could live with. A secret job, sure, you could get over that. But a wife? An entirely opposite personality? That shook your entire world, the very foundation of your relationship. You could justify the rest but the idea of him loving someone else so wholly and being someone else so entirely, it had you questioning everything you knew.

About him. About life and love. Even about yourself.

It made you wonder if you could walk away from it all. Say so long to the quiet london boy that stole your heart.

You were back in your apartment before you knew it and you leaned against the closed door for a moment once you were inside. Your head was spinning with the new situation and you decided you didn’t want to think about it. You pushed yourself up and headed to your fridge, picking out one of the cans you usually reserved for after dinner or nights you had friends over for drinks and movies. You took it into your room and got changed before dropping onto your couch.

You put your can on the side table and picked up the remote, flipping through channels until a familiar movie played. You let it run as background noise while you read your book and slipped your drink. But despite your best efforts, Steven was still present in your mind. When you were picturing the main male character, all you could picture was your boyfriend. One of the female characters started to look like Layla. It drove you insane.

You threw the book to the coffee table and dropped to your back across the cushions. You didn’t know how long you had been staring at your ceiling when someone knocked on your door. The first time the noise came, you didn’t move. Surely whoever it was would leave. But after a few seconds the knocking came again, with more authority than the first time. so you hauled yourself up and shuffled over. 

Opening the door, you were greeted by the ghost of your boyfriend. For the most part, it was the same man. Same clothes and same facial features. But his dark curls were pushed out of his face. His posture stood taller and his shoulders pulled back.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize you weren’t looking at Steven.

You moved to close the door when his hand shot out to stop you. You tried leaning some of your body weight against the door but it hardly budged. You muttered a small complaint to yourself before stepping back and opening the door fully.

You stared at the imposter expectantly.

“Not gonna let me in?” He asked, gesturing slightly towards your apartment.

Even his voice was different. Missing the accent, deeper and fuller than Steven’s. Seeing the more mature sound come from your boyfriend’s face sent goosebumps across your skin.

“Why would I? I don’t know you.” You shrugged.

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You really wanna have this conversation in the hall?”

You sighed heavily and as if on cue, your nosy neighbor was leaving her apartment. You grabbed Marc’s jacket and pulled him in, giving the woman a quick wave and a tight smile. You heard her question who he was but you shut the door before having to answer. You stared at the door for a second to collect yourself before turning to face Marc, who had already made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Little early in the day for drinks, don’t you think?” He tried to joke and shook the empty can but you didn’t laugh.

“Well when I find out my boyfriend is married and absolutely not who I thought he was, I’m entitled to a spiked lemonade… Just be glad it isn’t the bottle of vodka in my freezer.” You countered, the words spilling faster than you could control them. “So who the hell are you this time?”

“My name’s Marc.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “Steven and I are…”

“Twins?” You tried your earlier guess. You just desperately wanted something simple for an explanation. A case of mistaken identity among twins was simple enough.

“No, not exactly.”

“But you are the one married to that girl, Layla, right?” You pressed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and a small smile crossed his lips. “Steven’s never met her till today.”

“Well…” You said awkwardly, coming a few steps closer. “She’s very pretty.”

He smiled a little wider for a second before he seemed to remember why he was there.

“Listen, I came here because I wanted to try and explain what I could to you.” He began carefully.

“Is Layla right then, Steven’s just an act?” You cut in sharply. “A fake name so you can lead a life away from her? Because it seems to me that that woman loves you. Why she would is baffling to me and why you would divorce her is even more ludacris.”

“He’s not an act and he’s not fake.” He seemed to flinch at the last word. “Maybe he’s not all that real, either. It’s…” He blew out a heavy sigh. “It’s complicated, Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you dare.” You said tightly, closing the distance to put yourself in front of Marc. “You’ve existed to me for all of ten minutes. You have no right to call me that.”

“You’re right.” His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know about that anyway?”

“I know pretty much everything about Steven’s life.” He shrugged innocently. “You, the gift shop, his really shitty boss. I know what bus he takes, that goddamn fish. Jesus, I even know what underwear brand he wears.”

“How? Why? I just-“ You groaned and pushed your hands into your hair. “What the hell is going on, Marc?”

“Sometimes…” He spoke carefully, as if he was treading around land mines. “There were a few nights when you would come to Steven’s, or walking back to his place after work, it wouldn’t be him… He wouldn’t take over in time and it would be me. Kinda got to know you through that.”

“Oh my god.” You said quietly, your hand covering your mouth as you sunk into the chair beside you. “When he would be super quiet and just nodding or making little humming noises…”

“Yeah…” He hesitantly agreed, clearly embarrassed. “I tried to kind of push him forward but- I don’t know how this shit works, Y/N. I’m just living with it at this point.”

“So… You’re Marc and he’s Steven, but you’re also the same?” You questioned as the information tried to sink in. “Like you two are-“ You interlocked your fingers together.

“Same body, different people.” He nodded. “I know it’s a lot but don’t.. Don’t leave him over this.”

“Leave him?” Your brows furrowed and you almost laughed. “I’m not gonna leave him over this.”

“Really?” His brows raised quizzically. “Cause it didn’t seem that way when you walked out.”

“I can handle personalities, I think. It’s the marriage that’s a problem.”

“To be fair, it’s my marriage.” He offered. “Like I said, he never knew her.”

“I just need a day or two to let it process.” You confessed. “And I think you need a day or two to figure out things with Layla.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

“And if you two work it out, me and Layla are gonna have to figure out an arrangement.”

#steven grant fic #steven x yn #steven grant one shot #mcu steven grant #steven grant hc #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #marc spector moon knight #steven grant moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight x yn #moon knight x you #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight

[foreverinadais]

One Call: m.s , j.l , s.g

Summary:  Marc, Jake and Steven, your ex’s, ran into trouble and, as a result, are thrown into jail. At a loss, they ( begrudgingly ) use their only call on you in hopes you will bail them out. 

Pairings: ex!marc spector x reader , ex!jake lockley x reader , ex!steven grant x reader

Warnings: angst (!!!), they’re all readers ex’s, cussing, fluff, forced proximity, tension, jake being a bit of an asshole, *steven being sad* , kinda unhappy ending but there will be another part, this is part of the ex! moon boys x reader series but can be read stand alone, unrequited requited feelings, not being over your ex and vice versa. 

Word Count: 5.8 k

the ex! series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

You should’ve known it was them the moment your phone started ringing. You had awoken with a start, heart pounding out of your chest at the loud intrusion to your sleep. It took you a brief moment to register what the sound was, the thick layer of sleep still hovering in your mind. But then, the familiarity of the ringtone settled into your brain.

You hardly registered the time- 03:27am- before picking up your phone.

Unknown Number.

The words made you hesitate. But only briefly, for then you were answering. “Hello?” Your voice was croaky from just waking up, and you coughed slightly. There was a small silence. You tried again.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat before dropping through your stomach completely. You recognised the voice immediately.

“M-Marc? Why…” You tried to find the right words to describe this moment; why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is? What the fuck is wrong with you? Instead, you settled with, “Are you okay?” A sigh followed from the other end of the call, and you could just imagine him, eyebrows creased, eyes shut in whatever it was that was silently bothering him.

“Look, ‘m fine, just- need’ya to do something for me.” A favour? You hadn’t seen him in at least two months, the last time being in a grocery store. It had taken you weeks to get the interaction out of your head. Annoyance entered your mind, but you quickly pushed it away.

“What is it?” There was another silence, prompting you to now sigh.

“We’re in trouble.” You flinched, swinging your legs out of bed, heart accelerating.

“Trouble? What kind of trouble? Have you-”

“We aren’t in danger, it’s fine, just…” He seemed to hesitate on his next words, and you were tempted to push him, to make him spit it out so you could settle the thoughts racing through your mind. “We’re in jail.” He grumbled, and you realised the hesitancy was embarrassment.

“Jail?! Why? I mean, how?”

“Don’t have time for questions, okay? Can you just come get us?” It seemed as though he had to be prompted before he added a quiet, “Please?”

You huffed, getting out of bed and slipping off your pyjama shorts. “Fine. Where are you?” He began listing all the information you needed, and you quickly scribbled it down on the back of one of your friend’s wedding invitations. “Okay,” you muttered, finishing putting on your clothes and slipping on some shoes, “ ‘m on my way.”

“Right.” He finished hastily, hanging up. You scoffed, almost expecting something else, at least a ‘thank you’. But you reminded yourself that this was just a favour. That you were the last and only option he had to call. You pushed away the feelings that he was using you. You cant be used if you aren’t wanted in the first place.

You hurried out to your car, ensuring you had all you needed before you began the drive to you ex’s.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Marc Spector? He got here tonight.”

“And what is your relation to Mr Spector?” You hesitated, spluttering on your words slightly before settling on,

“A friend.” The woman at the desk raised an eyebrow, taking you in before sighing.

“Sign these forms and then take a seat. Your friend will be out shortly.” You smiled awkwardly, picking up the papers and muttering your thanks.

In the rush and the confusion, you had forgotten what picking up Marc entailed. You would be seeing him again. His hair, his face, his eyes. You would be reminded of his smell and his voice and his lips. It had been too long, too hard getting over them. It was your own personal purgatory.

You could hardly remember the lilt in Steven’s voice when he was excitedly telling you about the book he was reading. Or Jake’s stupid jokes, sat in the back of his cab in the early hours of the morning. Or Marc-

You jumped when you heard a small cough in an attempt to pull your attention. You noticed the boots first, and it only took you a moment to avert your gaze upwards. His eyes were so familiar yet so cold. You felt as though you had been pulled under water, had lost your breath for a moment and were fighting to surface.

You took in every detail of his face. Some were familiar; the crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his lips, the small scar on the side of his face. Yet, some things were new. Particularly, the bruise covering his left eye, purpling angrily, and the freshly busted lip. You winced, resisting the urge to reach over and smooth your fingers over his injuries until they hurt less.

“You are free to go. You’re lucky your ‘friend’ bailed you out. Could’ve been a lot worse for you tonight, Mr Spector.” You noticed Marc grit his teeth, biting back the words he truly wanted to say. You were relived when he just nodded. He was out of the door before you could talk. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ to the receptionist before hastily following after him.

“Hey, Marc!” You called, and you couldn’t ignore how unfamiliar his name felt on your tongue. You pushed down the sourness rising in your throat as you could his name again. Marc stopped abruptly, and you noticed his body moving in a sigh. His head cocked to the side slightly as if he were hiding from you.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want a ride home?”

“I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll drop you off, I know the way.” The reminder of that fact pained you both, but neither of you showed it. Marc cleared his throat, turning to face you now, but he still averted his gaze.

“Don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have.”

“We’re past the point of that. Look, it’s fine, I insist.” You could see the dialogue behind Marc’s eyes, the debating and reasoning, before he settled with a small nod and an, ‘Okay.’

The small space of your car left little space between the two of you. You tried to ignore how good he smelt, how nice he looked, even after whatever he had been through tonight. You subtly cracked the window down, just to feel as though you weren’t drowning in him.

Silence settled as you began to drive. It wasn’t exactly awkward, more… uncomfortable. As if you were both about to talk, or scream, or cry at the exact same moment. Marc was set on staring out the window, every now and then his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror, and you could just imagine Steven or Jake’s expression looking back.

You wanted to ask about them. Despite it being a long time since seeing Marc, it had been even longer since seeing the other two. Fuck, your heart ached thinking how close they were to you, yet so far. Marc, too. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to release everything in your mind overcame you. You couldn’t stay silent, but you didn’t quite know what you wanted to say.

“So…” you started, slowing down as you approached a red light, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Good start. You peeked over at him, but all you saw was his reflection in the window, blurred by the street lights and stars.

“Your face looks pretty bad. I mean, shit, not your whole face, just the bruise.” You didn’t miss the way his lip twitched up as if edging into his signature smirk, but quickly fell again, as if he was reminding himself of the situation.

“ ‘s fine.”

“That’s it?” You wondered aloud, moving as the light changed to green. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, I just, prison is a big deal, Marc. I’m…” You hesitated, hearing the implications of your next words, “worried about you.”

Marc tutted, and you worried you pushed him too far. He was stubborn, after all. “Don’t gotta worry about me anymore, okay? It’s fine, just ran into some trouble after a mission.”

You ignored the way your heart wept at his beginning statement, deciding to see how much you could find out. “After? What, someone sent some bodyguards on you or something?” You noticed his silence, the way his eyes averted down to his lap, and worry filled you once more. “Were you Moon Knight? Or was it you?” The thought of him fighting without his superhero alias inserted a sense of fear into you.

Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you noticed how pained he looked. “It was Steven.” Oh. Steven? Sweet Steven? You knew he could fight; you’d heard his stories of fighting Harrow and various other things. He was perfectly able. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t picture him fighting. Without the suit, without his alters.

You realised why Marc had been so closed off.

“What happened?” Your voice was quiet, strained.

“Just got back from a mission. It was…” He trailed off, and the sigh told you everything you needed to know. “Steven was fronting, and he was so frustrated. Neither of us could calm him down. We were nearly home but we heard shouting. Screaming. This woman was inside her house as her asshole of a husband was banging on the door. We told Steven not too do anything stupid, to just summon the suit or call the cops, cause he was in such a bad place, y’know?”

You did know, nodding, trying to focus on the empty roads and the story.

“But Steven wanted to help, like he always does. Couldn’t get control of the body as he stormed over. The guy hit him,” He motioned to the bruise, and you winced, “Twice. And then Steven was just… fuck, he was goin’ crazy. Probably would’ve killed the bastard if some drunk guy on the street didn’t pull him off.” Marc’s voice had gotten slightly strained, and you could only imagine the turmoil he would’ve been through, how helpless he would’ve felt. How helpless they all would’ve been.

“B-But… why did you get put in jail?” You hardly had to ask. You knew Marc would do anything, anything, to protect him. But you didn’t know what to else to say.

“Steven snapped out of it. Let me front. I couldn’t let it be under his name, ya know? He has his job; he has a life outside of this shit… It doesn’t matter for me.”

You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him he was a good person. You wanted to say he did have a life. You wanted to ask to talk to Steven. But then Marc was speaking again.

“The woman, she was grateful, you know, turns out her husband is an abusive piece of shit. But when we were put into the car, I caught sight of the window. There was a kid. Crying. Didn’t know if his dad was dead or what. Steven probably saved the kid’s life, but he doesn’t know that. Steven went after that, can’t feel him or speak to him up there, just… nothing.”

You were at a loss for words. You could feel the pain radiating off of Marc and it made you ache to hold him in your arms and whisper terms of endearments. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what you were apologising for, or who you were apologising too. There was so much you wanted to say, but so little ways you could say it.

“Don’t be. He’ll be back. Probably when this bruise is healed, bastard’ll probably avoid havin’ to feel it.” You forced a smile at Marc’s attempt at a joke. But it was all fake. You could read him like a book, even if you had finished the last chapter a while ago. But it didn’t take a genius to see how much he was harbouring.

“Marc… why did you call me?” You didn’t want him to think you were angry; you weren’t. In fact, you were relieved it was you and not anyone else. But you were curious. Out of everyone, why you?

“Your numbers the only one I- we know.” He muttered, and whilst it made sense, you felt a pang of sadness. There was nothing attached to their choice. Nothing present, anyway. It was a convenience.

“I see.”

“Look, I’m sorry I was such a prick earlier. I just didn’t wanna bother you like this, y’know? You don’t need this shit anymore.”

“I don’t mind, Marc. Honestly.”

“But I do. This shouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re too good for this.” He trailed off and your pulse rate quickened. You didn’t know what to say, so you decided silence was acceptable. This time, the silence felt more comfortable. As if you were now used to each other again. You mentally kicked yourself; you couldn’t allow yourself to get used to his presence.

You were driving down a particularly empty street, the prison taking you on the outskirts of the usual busy city life. That, and the fact it was incredibly early in the morning, so early, the sun was still hidden beneath the stars.

You had turned on the radio a while back, letting the music fill the car to disperse some of the tension. You hardly noticed, however, when it started crackling. It was only when the car started slowing down that you took notice of the dashboard. The flashing red light made you curse.

“What?” Marc said, but instantly realised why when the car spluttered to a stop, the radio dying with a whirl. You couldn’t resist the urge to flop onto the steering wheel, letting out a prolonged groan as you realised the situation- you had broken down on an empty road with your ex.

It truly couldn’t be worse.

“Shit.” He muttered, and you agreed, head still on the steering wheel. However, you looked up at the click on the passenger door.

“Where are you going?! Don’t leave me here!” You whined, and Marc rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Not leaving you, just gonna check the car. Just try ‘n call road services or somethin’, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, reaching for your phone, nearly crying as you saw the ‘No Signal’.

“Fuck, Marc, I don’t have a signal!” You called out, holding it into the air to no avail. “Marc? I’m coming out.” You opened the door, eyes trained to the phone as you waved it into the air again, a string of curses leaving your lips as the same signal portrayed itself on the screen.

You could see the silhouette of him at the front of the car, figure hidden behind the bonnet. You were shocked he knew even remotely what he was doing. Car’s weren’t his thing.

Oh no.

It finally hit you as he fully came into view. His face was harder, eyebrows drawn together, lips in a tight scowl. You hadn’t seen Jake Lockley in a while. In fact, you hadn’t heard a thing from him. No accidental calls, no awkward run ins. The last time you had seen him, well, you’d been under him.

“Hi.” You started, instantly feeling awkward at your tone. There was no answer. You wondered if maybe, he hadn’t heard you, that maybe he was so wrapped up in the car that he was oblivious to anything else. So, you tried again, this time adding a small, “Jake?”

You heard him sigh, followed by a frustrated, “hm?”

Oh.

“How’s it looking?”

“Fine.” Confusion filled you at his tone. He was being short. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to you, and you couldn’t ignore the hurt it made you feel.

“Well, it clearly isn’t fine if it broke down.” You snapped; you couldn’t help it.

“ ‘k, then it isn’t fine. Lemme concentrate, bueno?” Okay. You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around your body.

“Is there anything I can do-”

“No.” Anger flared in your blood. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so nonchalant, so infuriating.  

You suddenly missed Marc.

Without another word, you stormed back to the car, making a point of shutting the door so the bonnet rattled. You could practically hear the roll of his eyes, and it provided you with some solace.

He was out there for another 15 minutes. You wondered if it would even be him to front back at the car, and a big part of you hoped it wasn’t. You knew by the sharp tap on your window that it was, indeed, Jake.

You opened the door, trying to appear calm. “C’mere, have to test the engine.”

“I could do that.”

“I will, I know what ‘m doing.”

“And I don’t?”

“C’mon, relajarse. Relax. Let me.” Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was the way his eyes were suddenly looking into yours from above, but you complied, rolling your eyes as you did so. Jake muttered something in Spanish that you didn’t catch, but you thought that was probably for the best.

You watched begrudgingly as he tried the engine once, twice, before the familiar roar of your car rumbled through the night. You expected him to get out, let you back in the drivers side, but much to your annoyance, he didn’t.

Instead, he motioned for you to get in. You wanted to complain but decided if he wanted to put in the effort of driving, whatever. You were tired anyway.

There was a different atmosphere than when Marc was fronting, and it was evident from the second you sat down. The atmosphere was tense, and the small space of the car felt suffocating, even with the window cracked down.

There was something about Jake, something utterly intoxicating, that pulled you under every time you even thought about him, let alone being in his presence. The implications that came with merely seeing his face made your brain cloudy and heart jittery.

How could you ever truly move on?

You tried not to let the thought in as you trained your eyes out the window, watching the trees and bushes blur into one green smudge. But it was corrupting your thoughts, infiltrating your defence systems.

You snuck a peek over at Jake. You were surprised he had even stuck around this long. A part of you expected him to stop fronting, render control to Marc as soon as he had fixed the car. The question was leaving your lips before you could even process you were speaking’ “Why are you still here, Jake?”

His jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “He wants me to stay.”

“Marc?” And he nodded. “You don’t…” You began but cut yourself off with a sad sigh. Jake didn’t want to be fronting with you and Marc didn’t want to swap back.

“I don’t…?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jake wanted to push but receded back into his silence. You didn’t miss the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel. You imagined Marc was pushing him to say something, but he didn’t.

He didn’t for a while.

You had adjusted to the silence, accepted that this would be how this night would end. The night sky had become lighter, the sun just beginning to peek out from beneath the horizon. You couldn’t quite believe it was nearly morning. You resisted the urge to yawn, covering your mouth slightly.

“Tired?” His voice shocked you slightly, but you hid it, raising an eyebrow in answer. “That was- of course, you’re tired, Soy un idiota. I’m an idiot.” You smiled slightly, shaking your head.

“You must be tired, too.” He shrugged.

“Who’s wedding?”

“Hm?” He took his eyes off his road for a split second to nod toward the crumpled invitation you had hastily scribbled the address down. “Oh, ‘s a friend’s. Next month.”

“Yeah? Do I know ‘em?” You shook your head.

“It’s a new friend.” He didn’t know everyone in your life anymore.

“I see.” You could tell he was pondering something by the way he was nodding slightly, tapping the steering wheel in succession to invisible music. “You got a plus one?” You couldn’t hide the shock on your face.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he replied too fast, “Just wonderin’.” You kept your eyes on him for a moment, gaze hard, but you felt a playfulness fill you.

“I was thinking of inviting this guy from work,” His jaw clenched, “But I want to keep my options open, you know?” He hummed, lips twisting up in a smirk.

“That’s what I do.” You had started it, the playful toying, the ploy to make him jealous, but the insulation they had options made your stomach turn. You reminded yourself he wasn’t yours to be jealous about.

“It’s fun having options. It’s freeing.” It wasn’t. Since them, you had gone on a handful of dates and all of them ended with awkward conversation and blocked numbers. But it was worth saying to see his smirk falter.

“As long as you’re happy.” Happy was perhaps an overstatement. You shrugged. “You are happy, aren’t you?” You hesitated. It was easy to say yes. It was easy to end the conversation here, as the car was nearing their flat.

“I’m getting through.” That struck him. All he cared about, still, was your happiness…no, he couldn’t, not anymore. You recognised the road instantly, knew the flat was close. God, even the street felt like home. Like you were travelling back through the trails in your memory. If you shut your eyes, you could imagine you were back in their bed. You can feel the sun on your skin through the cracks in their curtains. You can hear the car horns from a traffic altercation. You can feel their heart beating underneath your head. Nothing bad has happened.

“Hogar dulce hogar; home sweet home.” But not for you.

He parked and turned the engine off. You listened as it died down to silence. This was it.

“So this was…” You tried to find a word to quite describe the night, but settled on, “strange.”

He chuckled and it was addictive. “You could say that.” He unclicked his seatbelt and settled back in the seat for a moment. Like he belonged in your car with you. “Listen, thank you for all this. Gracias.”

“Jake… why didn’t you want to front earlier?” He sighed deeply, and you were worried you had overstepped.

“ ‘s too much. Being around you again, fuck, just brings it all back, ‘s all, Carino.” The term of endearment slipped out, but it was too late, the damage was done. “I should go. Thank you again.” He muttered, wiping his hands on his trousers, making a move to leave.

“Brings what back?” He paused.

“Everything.” He felt it, too. You were surprised to see him already looking at you. Your eyes met but this time, you didn’t look away. It felt all too familiar to be looking into his eyes. And then, his eyes were rolling back. You didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening before he was there.

His eyes held a softness unlike any you had ever seen in your life. You could recognise it from anywhere, but only from him. His body instantly slouched, his eyes whipping away from yours.

Steven. Sweet, sweet Steven.

His hands began to tremble as he raised them in front of his face, looking at the swelling of his knuckles, at the bruises forming on his skin. “I-I-“ He began to stutter, turning to look at himself in the reflection of the glass before abruptly looking away. “I did something bad.”

“Steven-” He jumped as if he hadn’t quite comprehended it was you sat there. He hadn’t heard his name from your voice in too long and it made his heart quiver.

“I-It was like I just lost control, y’know? I don’t- I blacked out for a minute and then there was sirens and Marc-” He cut himself off with a gasp and you felt tears fill your eyes. “Oh goodness, what have I done? I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“No, Steven, you’re not-” you began but he was already talking again.

“And now you had to come clean up my mess. ‘S not fair, how could I do this to you? After everything, fuck, you don’t need this. You don’t need me anymore.” You were at a loss for words. You did need him. You needed him like you needed air to breathe. You needed him like you needed books to read. You needed him in a way you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, especially since you had lost him. Had lost all of them.

“Listen-”

“There was a kid, y’know? I saw him, in the window. He must’ve thought that I… that I…” And then, he was crying, body shaking in sobs. You broke then, the need to hold him too much, too strong. He melted into your arms, clutching at the back of your shirt as you held him in your arms. He buried his face in your shoulder, and you could feel his tears soaking your skin, but you didn’t mind, not one bit.

You ran your hands over his back, whispering whatever comfort you could string together. Your hands trailed the hairs climbing the back of his neck like you had a million times before, hoping it would provide something that would help, some solace that words couldn’t give. “You did the right thing, Steven.” You whispered as you felt his breathing begin to slow down. His hands became limp on your shirt, instead opting to hold you as tightly as you were holding him. “You always do the right thing.”

“What if ‘m a bad person?” He quivered, voice barely above a croaky whisper. You swallowed harshly, feeling tears sting your eyes at one of the people you cared about most thinking so lowly of himself.

“No, Steven, of course not. You’re… you’re one of the best people I’ve ever know? The best of the best, okay?” He sniffled, and you gently eased his face up, so he was looking at you. “You are a good person, Steven Grant.” You looked into each-others eyes for a while. There was no ounce of awkwardness, no trace of tension. The comfort it brought to see those eyes again was more than any drug, any romcom could ever provide.  

You studied his features. Soft, teary eyes, bloodshot and scared, but swirling with adoration and care. The tension between his eyebrows was gone, replaced instead with a smooth, vulnerable expression. But most of all, you noticed the bruises. Unlike with Marc, you didn’t resist the urge to run featherlight touches around them, hoping it would help him heal faster. Somehow, even in this state, he looked angelic. In fact, you had never seen him look bad. Because Steven was good. “ ‘m sorry.” He suddenly broke the silence, instantly looking away from you as if talking to you was too much. 

You looked at him confused, running a hand through his hair in encouragement as you whispered a small, “For what?”

“My fault you’re here right now. ‘m sure you have a trillion other things you’d rather be doin’ than sitting here with a sorry sod like me.” You smiled, shaking your head.

“If you think lying in my flat whilst my upstairs neighbours shag is something I’d rather be doing, you’re greatly mistaken.” You felt him smile against your neck and you resisted the urge to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Still, must be better than seeing us.” You shook your head, though he couldn’t see you.

I’ve missed you like crazy. I would do anything to see you, anything. Come back to me. Please. 

You settled on, “I’ll always be here to help.” Neither of you said much after that. Not for a while. You were so comfortable, unnervingly so, with Steven holding you, your hands in his hair. It was so intimate, more intimate than anything you’ve had since the break-up. You quickly realised you craved it. That this was the missing piece in your life, that they were the missing pieces. 

The sun was breaking through the dark now, a light pink casting a warm glow onto the dull streets. That was what he felt like, you thought. He was the sunrise. You felt yourself drifting off and caught yourself, realising the time in the car had to come to an end. You didn’t want too, but you shifted, and Steven lifted his head, rubbing his eyes slightly. 

“Should probably get you to bed, you must be exhausted.” You muttered to him, forcing your hands to untangle from his curls. He nodded, sitting up and you instantly missed the weight and warmth of him on top of you.

“ ‘kay.” You stretched slightly, feeling tiredness settle in your bones but you pushed it away. Steven took in the beginning of the sunrise, and you noticed his lips twitch up in wonder. He was the type of person to get excited at every sunrise, every sunset, every odd-shaped cloud; no matter how many times he’d seen it. He found the beauty in everything. It was one of the things you loved about him. Loved.

“So, just lemme know if you need anything, you can message me. Do you still have my number? I can write it down, or not, whatever you want-”

“You aren’t coming in with me?”

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t realise you’d want me too.” 

“Yes, please. If you want too.” You paused. Seeing their flat? Being in that space again? The thought made your heart flutter and stomach churn. But you nodded, deciding he needed your help more tha your heart needed peace. The steps up to their flat was so familiar, you could do it with your eyes closed. You knew every bump, every turn, every creaky floorboard. You were at the door before you knew it, and Steven was jingling the keys in the lock. 

“Sorry about the mess.” He said, and you smiled.

It was messy, yes, but messy in the way that felt exactly like home. It smelled the same. It looked the same, apart from the new curtains you were sure Steven had picked out. You felt like you were unlocking a piece of your heart with every step you took. You spotted his desk, piled with all sorts of Ancient History books, papers of various missions they’d been on, and Steven’s new name badge with the words, ‘Tour Guide’ formally placed underneath. You let your fingers trace it, a grin breaking out onto your face. 

“Congratulations.” You said, holding it up so Steven could see what you were talking about. He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.”

“How’s it going?”

“It’s… wonderful. I love it. Donna quit, and the new manager, Kathy, she promoted me.” 

“That’s amazing, Steven, truly. ‘m so proud of you, you deserve it.” You couldn’t stop the praise, and you watched his cheeks tint in a blush. 

“You always said I could do it.” He said, and you nodded. “You always believed in me.” You always would.

“It’s cause I knew you could. It’s all down to you.” You stayed smiling at each other for a moment before Steven yawned. You shook your head, putting his name badge down and clasping your hands together. 

“Let’s get you to sleep.” He chuckled, nodding and rubbing his eyes. Steven went to the bathroom as you set up his bed, plumping his pillows and straightening his duvet. You ignored the ache in your heart at the sight of your side of the bed, lingering your hands on the pillow as you remembered all the times you had been in their bed. You broke from it at the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. 

He came out dressed in his pj bottoms and a jumper. He took note of his now tidy bed and smiled, wanting nothing more than to lay you down and hold you. He didn’t say much as he got into bed, tucking himself under the covers and sighing deeply. You didn’t know where to look, where to stand. You figured you could leave when he got into bed. You only shifted slightly when Steven grabbed your hand gently, tugging you toward him.

“Stay with me?” He whispered so quietly; you almost didn’t catch it. You felt a lump rise in your throat. You didn’t even have to ponder it as you nodded, slipping into the side of the bed, your side, next to him. He turned over, facing away from you as you swung an arm over waist. You felt his muscles untense as he grabbed your hands to the front of him, stroking the skin softly. You rested your cheek against his back, nuzzling the skin to provide as much comfort as you could.

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.” He whispered tiredly, on the cusp of sleep. You tried to stop your eyes watering, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away.

“Thank you for letting me.” His grip on your hands loosened and his breathing became heavy in a way you recognised instantly; he was asleep. You pulled your hands out from him, careful not to make too much movement. The bed creaked as you rolled out, but he didn’t even flinch. You straightened out the sheets, reshaped the pillow. You thought about him. And then about Marc, and Jake. What they meant to you, still, and what you feared they always would.

You couldn’t help but look at him one last time. He looked at peace, finally, like an angel. You couldn’t resist the urge anymore, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Steven.” You whispered, stroking his hair before making your way out of their flat.

The sun had risen completely now, gold cascading over the buildings. A new day. You turned one more time. You wished you could reverse time, go back to when you were happy and at peace with them. But, alas, that was impossible. So, with your heart yearning, and your stomach turning, you left.

You awoke in the late afternoon, thoughts plagued with the events from the night. As hard as it was, you hadn’t wanted it to end. You had never been happier than when you were with them. The thought haunted you. You turned, stretching deeply as your limbs refused to move too much. With a sigh, you reached over for your phone. You scrolled through your notifications, not paying too much mind, until you saw the familiar number beaming on the screen.

You sat up instantly, clicking on the message and reading it:

Thank you for everything. 

You didn’t know which of your boys had sent it, and you didn’t care. You held the phone to your heart, trying to absorb the remnants you had left of them. And whilst it was just a message, you couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of hope. Perhaps this wasn’t it. Perhaps they felt it too. 

You smiled, shutting your eyes, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Finally- a new day. 

tags: @daddyjackfrost @rmoonstoner @midgardian-witch @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476​ (please do let me know if you don’t want to be on this taglist, it is quite old now so feel free to message me and i’ll remove you!!!)​

#marc spector angst #jake lockley angst #steven grant angst #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #steven grant x reader #angst #moon knight angst #moon knight x reader #moon knight #marc spector fanfic #jake lockley fanfiction #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector #Steven Grant #jake lockley

[cupidysm]

My Pen

Just a late birthday fic I wrote while I was bored. It has nothing to do with a birthday/birthdays. Just another fluff piece.

Shy!Steven Grant x gn!reader || masterlist || shy!Steven playlist

summary: Steven lands a chance to talk to a girl he’s been pining over.

content: fluff, hint of angst, swearing(once), mutual pining, awkwardness, it’s a QUICK read, no mentions of the system word count: 601

Steven didn’t know how it happened. It just… did. You showed simply out of the blue and ever since he saw a glimpse of you he was enamored. The way your eyes lit up as you observed the relics scattered throughout the museum made his heart pound. You were just so… interested every time you visited—something incredibly rare since most simply chaperoned on school field trips—barely ever out of pure enjoyment.

Then there you were again. The third time this week you had visited the museum, scribbling- no, note taking what you saw as you made your way past the different exhibits. Steven began to fill his mind with false hopes that you had visited for him.

Then again it could’ve been his shitty excuse of a sleep schedule.

Either way, he was practically buzzing with excitement at the sight of you… until you began to walk in his direction- but that was no problem, you could simply be making your way around one the glass exhibits in the center of the floor. They did place them terribly after all.

And then you entered gift shop area. Okay… maybe you were just perusing, looking around and then head back to your observations of the artifacts. Nope you were heading in his direction, staring at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. Steven began to panic, he could feel a cold sweat wash over him. His heart quickened and his hands began to shake.

“Hi,” You lean in to read his name tag before standing upright. “-Steven,” you smirk at the small accomplishment. “Do you have any pens that I could buy?” Your smile returns making the already existing butterflies in his stomach turn into bloody fireworks.

“I, uh… it’s.” He pauses realizing your look of confusion. “Oh bollocks.” Was all he could muster up. His embarrassment has risen to a ludicrous degree. All he has to do was answer a simple question about a pen.

You can’t stop a giggle from erupting. Steven should probably feel embarrassed by that, but his heart only swells with adoration at being able to actually hear the sound for the first time, not just from observing as you read the cheesy jokes about mummy’s attached to the plaques.

“So, a pen?” You ask with an awkward smile.

“Oh- right, right yes.” Steven fumbles to grab at a black pen, decorated with white polka-dots, in one of the cardboard holders before placing it in your hand. You scribble something quick to check the ink before reaching for your wallet, but Steven reaches out to stop your hand. You look up at him in confusion and Steven swears he could’ve fainted. The wide eyed look from behind your lashes were enough to send him to the after life and back.

“There’s really no need. It’s a pen. Well it’s uh my pen, but you can keep it.” he scratches the back of his neck, trying his hardest not to make eye contact.

His kind request throws you off. “Oh- well are you sure? I’d be glad to pay.”

Steven feels like a lovesick schoolboy. He probably is a lovesick schoolboy, but what’s stopping him?

Apparently everything.

He insists that you keep it and you take a step backwards, stopping yourself just in case he were to continue the conversation, but you eventually turn and walk away.

If only Steven had been just as observant of you at that moment as he had been for the past few days, maybe he would’ve seen the disappointment in your eyes when he didn’t call you back.

Because you had wanted to continue talking to him…

Perhaps just as much as he had.

#steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #steven grant angst #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #steven grant x you #moonknight

[moonluvin]

bite marks - steven grant.

pairing: dark!steven grant x female reader

summary: in which y/n starts receiving mystery packages from a stranger – not that she minds it since its stuff that she likes. however, things take a turn when a seemingly kind face reveals more than you would expect.

warnings: angst, fluff & smut (holy trinity).

a/n: happy reading!

word count: 3.4k words

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlist

For several weeks you found bouquet of flowers on your doorstep. You were instantly delighted, as you had never received flowers before. It didn't take long for you to realize that someone was watching you.

That someone had maintained a fair distance from you but was close enough to observe you. He kept a book in which he made notes of your likes and dislikes, so far, he had written up quite a detailed profile on you.

As expected, another bouquet of flowers had been left on your doorstep, this time it was accompanied by a note – something which did not occur before.

Curiously, you wasted no time in reading the note.

‘like a moth to a blame, i can't help but feel drawn to your presence.’

It had no name signed to it, just a vague note.

A twisted part of you enjoyed the attention you received as you clutched the note to your chest and smiled briefly.

All the while you were completely oblivious to the stare on you.

Today, a day just like any other, had a slight change. A man, whom you don’t know the name of had walked into the café you worked at and had a nervous exchange when ordering his drink of choice.

“Steven,” you called out his name and waited for said mystery man to collect his drink. He avoided eye contact and said a little ‘thank you’ before walking to a secluded corner and situating himself there with a book.

You smiled at the sight and continued your workday as usual.

You enjoyed your line of work as it allowed you to indulge in two activities you liked. Meeting people and baking.

Steven had found solace in his little corner with a few glances your way. He didn’t want to be obvious since he was used to watching you from the shadows but watching you in your place of comfort made it almost impossible to keep his gaze away from you.

“Interesting choice,” you said as you cleaned the table next to him.

Your voice surprised him.

He looked at the book in his hand and then back at you.

“I’m actually rereadin’ it,” he said as calmly as he could.

“Oh? You enjoyed it that much?” you said with interest.

The book he had been trying to reread was “Persuasion” by Jane Austen.

“I certainly did,” he said with a smile.

He already knew of your interest in reading and took the initiative to read all books you have read in order to understand you better. Due to his observations of you, it was easy to pick up on your habits and on the fact that you’re unconscious of your surroundings.

You smiled at his reply and politely excused yourself to the kitchen.

Steven’s heart had been beating rapidly for the entire exchange the two of you had. It may have been small, but to him it was the perfect way to insert himself into your life.

Your everyday life has now consisted of friendly exchanges with Steven on the basis of books and the occasional walk home from him when he waited for you to close up the café.

The flowers from your admirer had not stopped, however, they had now become something you get occasionally.

On this particular day you had been living life as usual when Steven walked in with the sweet smile he had reserved for you, in his hand was his copy of ‘Persuasion’.

He sat at his usual place and waited for you to approach him, as you did so, he wasted no time in nervously babbling to you.

“I know this isn’t the most appropriate way to do this since you’re at work and all, but I would love to take you on a date if you would like to go on one?” he said all in one go and if it weren’t for you being used to taking note of everything your customers say then you wouldn’t have understood him.

Steven avoided eye contact with you the more you remained silent, and he had begun to think that maybe asking you on a date at work was a bad idea.

“I would love to,”

All worry he was feeling had dissipated and he looked with you with a toothy grin.

“You would?” he said slightly surprised.

You nodded in response and smiled at him.

He seemed to grasp his surroundings and returned your smile as he recited that he would have his usual drink. Before you left to prepare his order, he handed you his copy of Persuasion.

“I wanted you to have this,” he said, making a point to maintain eye contact with you.

You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“Its an annotated copy with notes I made specifically for you,”

As soon as he said that you knew you couldn’t refuse it. So, you took the copy with a soft thank you and went on to tend to his order.

Following that exchange between you and Steven, the two of you had quickly fell into a relationship where everything seemed natural. Especially with Steven’s efforts towards you.

Upon making things official, you had told him about the flowers you received previously, to which he assured you that it was okay, and he would take care of it if you wanted him to.

Very quickly 3 months had passed by, and it was filled with pure bliss. Steven being a new addition to your life had made it a happy wonderland.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” you heard him ask aloud from your kitchen.

“I’m good thanks,” you assured him as he walked into your living room.

A recent activity the two of you shared was reading in the company of each other and annotating the books for one another. Which is what the two of you were currently doing.

You watched his reaction as you pulled out a book you knew he would be surprised to see.

His eyes slightly widened upon seeing the title and his eyes made their way to you.

“Interestin’ book you’ve got there,” he said, his voice sounding lower than before.

“You think so? I thought I’d give it a try,” you said feigning innocence.

“You should, I’ve heard tha’ its quite detailed,”

“You’ve heard of it?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Of course, I have,” is all he said before opening his own book and reading it.

You took it as a sign that he didn’t want to go further with the conversation.

Throughout the night, Steven had noticed the way you would slightly clench your thighs as your eyes skimmed through the book. It was easy for him to pick up on the fact that you were turned on by what you were reading.

He knew this from the many nights he’d seen you touch yourself. You of course were not aware of your audience, not that he would want you to know that.

Even though your relationship with Steven was only 3 months in, sexual activities between the two of you were not a main concern, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t time where either of you got carried away while making out.

He made it known to you that he wanted to take things slow, and you never questioned him because you respected his wishes. The actual reason he wanted to take things slow was because he wanted to enjoy your company before finally indulging in you. It was all part of his plan.

On a day which was just like any other, you were cleaning up your bookshelf when you realised a particular book of yours was missing. It had been one you read a long time ago and you had specifically put it in a place only you knew of.

You brushed off your concern and chalked it down to you simply misplacing it.

The weather outside had been rainy, but not the calm drizzle you were used to, instead it was storming. Steven had stated he had difficulty in coming to see you and you of course understood this and told him you’d see him tomorrow.

Just as you were about to walk into the kitchen to wash the dishes from earlier, the lights went out. You huffed out a sigh and began looking for candles in order to see properly in the dark.

A sound coming from your living room heightened your senses as you stayed stark still.

You were the only one home, so the noise was unusual to say the least.

With a candle in hand, you softly made your way towards where the noise came from. The rational part of your mind was screaming to leave it alone and retreat to the safety of your room. However, your curiosity had got the best of you.

A book was face down on the floor as you looked around for the source of the noise, you picked it up and turned it around to look at the cover.

It was the missing book. That missing book.

A burning feeling of fear in your chest made you turn around to go to your room, but the figure in the shadows did not allow that.

The stranger’s hand had clasped its way around your mouth to prevent your from screaming whilst the other had pulled you towards him and gripped both your hands in his to avoid you from getting away.

It was by sheer luck that the candle you were holding fell and the flame was put out instantly.

Now, you were in the darkness of your own home while a stranger held you prisoner in his hold.

You felt the vibration of his chuckle as he held you.

“You can’t get away from me,” he said maliciously.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you tried to push your way out of his hold.

“You made it so easy f’me,” he stated as he dragged you towards your room.

He knew his way around your home, which didn’t register in your mind yet since you were trying to get away from him.

That’s when an idea popped into your mind.

You bit down as hard as you could, and he hissed in pain. Before you could scream, he used some type of material to stop you from screaming.

“Don’t make me do things I’ll later regret,” he warned as he stopped to make a point to you.

You complied out of fear and let him take you to your room.

With the absence of electricity, it made it difficult for you to make out the face of the man.

He carefully restrained your hands and made you sit on your bed facing him. You’d assume in a situation such as this you would be scared, but you didn’t exactly know what you felt. Maybe it was the adrenaline.

“If you listen t’me, then we can make things easy,” he stated.

You quirked a brow at him but nodded in compliance. The last thing you wanted was to make him angry.

“I don’t want any funny business, if you try anything against what I’m saying then I’m goin’ to have to use this,”

The little bit of light from outside allows you to see the knife he’s holding in his hand.

You feel a familiar throb between your legs at his words.

“Move more up,” he indicates to your bed, and you move up further to provide him with space to sit at the edge and watch you.

“Did you enjoy getting the flowers from me?”

Of course, it had to be the mystery man who had been sending you flowers.

“I assume you now don’t like them as much since you’re too busy giving time to someone else,” he said with a hint of a smile.

You want to speak and let him know that you missed receiving the flowers, but it occurred to you in that moment that this was a complete stranger to you. So, why did you feel the need to validate the way he felt?

“You may be thinking I don’t know a thing about you, but I know more than anyone else in your life,” he chuckled darkly and looked to the side before facing you again.

“I know all about the dark fantasies tha’ roam around tha’ mind of yours. The fear you feel by thinking about them but also the enjoyment you get,”

You tensed at his words; your thoughts were your own. Something only you were aware of.

He stood up from the bed and pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs open in the process, you were about to force them closed when he grazed the blade of the knife from your ankle all the way up to your thighs.

Your arms were still restrained in front of you as he began to train the blade towards your neck. Your eyes never left his, even if you couldn’t see them in the dark.

He was enjoying the willingness you were showing him.

“Be a good girl,” he said while using both hands to carefully cut your shirt in the middle. You felt the coolness of the air on your bare chest once he finished.

He stared at you for a moment and contemplated his choices.

“I’m goin’ to allow you to speak, but the moment you do anythin’ out of line. You know the consequences,”

You looked from the reflected blade to his shadowy figure and nodded.

He removed the piece of material from your mouth and waited for you to scream, when you didn’t, he disregarded the material and took hold of your hands by gripping them.

Your hands were above your head on the bed while he straddled you and his face was in line with yours.

“All you have to say is no,” he assured you.

Its funny how he gives you that choice after what his already done.

You thought for a moment, head foggy with thoughts and nodded.

A ghost of a smile made its way to his face.

“You’re a very bold person,” he said before kissing your neck and caging you between his body and the bed. His one hand still remained by keeping your above your head while the other grasped your breast, kneading the flesh and causing you to slight moan.

“You like tha’?” he asked with a chuckle.

You nodded and looked to his lips, as a way of asking him to kiss you.

“Use your words,” he insisted.

“Yes. I liked that,”

He pecked your lips and sat up briefly to take off his own shirt. You laid there and watched him with wanting eyes.

For a moment he stepped away from the bed and tugged at the waist band of your pants till they were off, next to be disregarded were your underwear.

He soon returned to kissing you, but his hand trailed down your body till they were between your legs, feeling your arousal.

“Someone seems to enjoy having a stranger do such things to them,” he chuckled darkly and began to draw little circles on your clit, making you bite your lip to stop your moans from being heard.

“I want to hear you,” he insisted and added more pressure to his fingers on your clit. Your moan of pleasure gave him the validation he so desperately wanted to hear.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as he sucked on one of your breasts.

He hummed in acknowledgement and continued his little game of pleasure.

Slowly, he made his way down your body till you felt his tongue teasing your clit.

You went to move your still restrained hands.

“Keep your hands where they were,” he warned and looked up at you.

You complied and spread your legs more for him.

He took his time with teasing your clit, using his fingers to spread you so he could suck on your clit and spread your arousal.

“You’re so wet,” he said with a teasing tone.

“Please,” you begged, not knowing exactly what you wanted.

You felt two of his fingers at your entrance as he stimulated you by still sucking on your clit. He set a comfortable pace, his fingers motioning them in a way that has you almost seeing stars.

You feel yourself going towards that feeling of euphoria and as you clench around his fingers, he stops.

“Not yet,” he said with a chuckle.

You whine in protest but silence yourself once he moves. He removes whatever remaining pieces of clothing he has and situates himself on the bed and pulls you on top of him to straddle him and removes the restraints from your hands.

“Ride me,” he says almost like a plea, which surprises you.

You settle one hand on his shoulder to balance yourself as you guide him into you. As you slowly sink down into his lap, you both gasp at the feeling of each other. He kisses you and pulls your body closer to his. Your hips begin to move on their own accord as you continue to kiss each other.

“Just like tha’,” he praises as he breaks the kiss and looks at you.

Breasts slightly bouncing with the motion of your hips. Out of habit you bite your lip, but soon grip his neck to make him look at you before you kiss him.

Something about him feels so familiar, but any rational thoughts you have are consumed by the feeling of him. A stranger who is making you feel things you’ve only read about.

You continue to kiss him and feel his one hands trail between you and him. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your clit and soon that familiar build up of euphoria is felt in the pit of your tummy.

“You gonna cum f’me?” his tone was demanding yet still held desperation in them.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you admit and start to move your hips even more.

“Then cum,” he demands, and like the good girl that you are, you cum.

You moan into the kiss and ride out your orgasm, only stopping when you become too sensitive.

He chuckles when you slump against him.

“We’re not done yet,”

He braces you against him and soon your back is on the bed, and he is now above you, his cock still inside you.

In the middle of you gaining your conscious thoughts back, you see him take the knife from before and hold it against your neck.

The feeling of the cool metal makes you gasp.

“I’m not goin’ to hurt you,” he assures you, and somehow you know you can trust him.

He begins to thrust into you at a slow pace, leaning over to kiss you every now and then while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. The blade is still held against your neck. The wetness from your previous orgasm makes it easy for him to thrust into you.

You hear him curse under his breath every few moments, and you know he’s having an internal battle with wanting to thrust into you harshly.

“Do it,” you tell him.

He hums in confusion.

“Fuck me faster, stop holding back,” you tell him.

That was all he needed to hear before you felt him begin to increase the pace in thrusts and the force of his hips were now more brutal than before. He was chasing own high, but at the same time. He was ensuring you felt it just as much. You felt him kissing your neck and without warning, you felt his teeth sink into your neck. The pain causing a sense of pleasure.

“Rub your clit,” he says through gritted teeth.

You do as he says and clench around him at the overstimulation. With a few more thrusts, he’s cumming inside of you and while you cum at the same time. You’re both breathing heavily. You lay there and stare at the ceiling above you, the rational thoughts finally making their way back to you.

A stranger just fucked you in your bed, and you willingly let him do so. Your thoughts were interrupted by said stranger pulling you towards him and kissing you on the forehead. The pain from the bite mark still lingered on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, y/n. Tha’ was so good,”

That’s when it hits you. That voice.

“Steven?”

#steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant angst #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #moonknight #moonknight fanfiction #moonknight fanfic #angst #fluff #smut

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Secrets That Whisper & Shout

Pairing: Moonknight trio (Steven mainly) x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: idk brief mentions of violence

Genre: fluff & minor angst

Summary: you are extremely intrigued by your neighbor and the voices you can sometimes hear in his head because of course your neighbor seems extra susceptible to your powers

***

It's an interesting way to live life, being able to see into people's minds. To alter their memories, control their actions, hear their deepest inner thoughts even if you're not trying to sometimes. It can be weird but you just try your best to live your life normally. Right now the biggest hindrance to your delicate balance of normal is your neighbor. He lives across the hall for you and unfortunately, for some reason, you keep finding yourself inside his mind. It happens when you let your mental guard down for a little too long. You've always compared people's minds to houses, or offices full of filing cabinets, your powers give you a key basically but it seems like your dorky neighbor's mental door is never closed let alone locked.

The weirder part is what you hear when you do find yourself in his mind. For most people, the voice in their head sounds like them- and while you've never really spoken to your neighbor, you know for a fact there's no way he's simultaneously a nervous Brit, a cocky American, and a grumpy Spanish speaker. There are three voices in his head as opposed to one, they speak to each other and seem entirely independent of one another. You haven't intentionally done any snooping in his mind but you can imagine his mental filing cabinets are entirely different than any you've been in. It's not really your business though so you never look into it. No matter how curious you are about how and why he has three voices in his head. 

You know very little about your neighbor. From accidentally listening to his mental debates you think his name is Steven. The other voices have names too but you're unclear who is who because you've never stuck around long enough to discern that. He's not very social and only leaves his apartment for work or errands. He hardly ever takes phone calls and he never really calls anyone- except, around the time you moved in he used to call his mom pretty often but you think she never answered and eventually, those calls stopped. The strangest detail you've realized is sometimes he'll sneak out of his apartment, through the window and you have no idea where he goes or what he does but he's always back within a week. You don't mean to keep tabs on him, sometimes you cast your magic out to scan for threats and you'll notice the lack of presence in the apartment across the hall.

He's a curious case, your neighbor across the hall, and today you've decided you're going to bite the bullet and speak to him. Your curiosity about him is the main reason and you hope that being able to assign personhood to the voices you hear will quell it even a bit. You cross the hall and knock on his door confidently before you can convince yourself not to on one Saturday afternoon when you know he's home. You checked first. There's some shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually, it opens a bit hesitantly but it opens.

"Hi! My name is y/n. I live across the hall from you." You say, your chosen tone is friendly but soft.

"I'm- Steven. Can I help you?" He asks sizing you up.

"I hope so! I was baking cookies and even though I went to the store before I started I guess I didn't make a complete list of things I needed because it turns out I actually don't have enough sugar so I was just wondering if you had any I could borrow by chance?" You ask. You are baking, but you also definitely have enough sugar, it just seemed like the simplest way to initiate conversation. A bit cliche but it's a classic for a reason.

"You want to borrow sugar?"

"Yes. A cup if you have it." You hold up your measuring cup with a smile. Steven pauses for a moment before he answers.

"Sure. I've got some. Come on in I'll pour some for you." He says walking into his apartment. You follow him in glancing around. The studio style flat is full of books littered everywhere, it's the first thing you notice when you walk in. Steven takes the measuring cup from you and quickly grabs his container of sugar to pour some.

"Thanks so much! I'll bring by some cookies to repay you!" You tell him.

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer but I am vegan and I'm sure you don't intend to bake vegan-friendly cookies so-" He trails off with a shrug. You frown but make a note of the information. He's vegan. "I've never seen you before." He says after a moment while he puts up his bag of sugar.

"That's probably because you don't leave much besides for work. I've lived across you for over a year." You muse.

"Hey! I- I leave!" He turns to look at you.

"To do your laundry at the witching hour when you're the least likely to run into people?" You smirk a bit at him.

"No." He huffs.

"Thanks for the sugar, Steven. Hope to see you around more." You toss over your shoulder as you walk back into your apartment.

You do make a handful of vegan cookies for your neighbor, even though it wasn't your plan, after checking to find that it really is just a couple of minor changes, vegetable oil instead of butter, water or nondairy milk instead of eggs, and since you don't already have vegan chocolate you leave out the chocolate chips- at least according to the recipe you found. They're basically sugar cookies and you only make six for Steven, some of which you sprinkle with cinnamon to make up for their plainness, but you imagine they're a decent thanks for the sugar you borrowed- even if it was a ploy.

A couple of hours later, you knock on Steven's door again, this time with a small Tupperware container for the cookies you made him. He opens it again with the same confused frown after a few moments.

"Hi again! I know you said not to bother with the cookies because you're vegan but I wanted to say thanks anyway so- I adjusted my recipe to accommodate. They're sugar cookies except two of them are cinnamon, I wasn't sure if you like cinnamon so I didn't make them all cinnamon but the cookies are vegan. So, thank you, for the sugar." You say handing him the plastic container.

"You adjusted your recipe so that I could have some cookies?" Steven doesn't seem to believe the words even as he says them.

"Yes. I know you said I didn't have to bring any but I wanted to anyway. Since I did use your sugar to make them."

"Thank you. I appreciate the effort. I can't wait to try them."

"If you ever need anything, just knock." You tell him and wait for his cautious nod. "I'll be seeing you." You say leaving without waiting for him to agree with that statement. From then on, Steven does in fact make a point to speak to you more often. The first time is a couple of days later, he runs into you in the elevator and tells you he enjoyed the cookies. He'll definitely speak to you when he sees you around the building but it's on you to actually make plans if you want to see him otherwise and sometimes you do. You invite him out to lunch, have him over for tea, suggest movies to watch together, you even visit him at work every once in a while. The first time you went to his job you didn't even know he worked there, I mean he'd told you he worked at a museum but you never thought to ask which one, but once you knew he worked there you definitely made a point to pop in and say hi when you're around and he's working. It takes a while but you manage to build a pretty good friendship with him over the next few months to the point where you're hanging out a couple of times a week these days. In fact, he's supposed to be over later today to show you some movie he's been dying for you to see. For now, you're sitting on your couch reading a novel until he gets here. It'll be another few hours before he comes knocking at your door. 

You've really enjoyed getting to know him, more than you expected to honestly. He's as sweet and awkward as he comes off at first glance but there's something endearing about his gentle shyness even when he's raving about whatever thing has most recently captured his attention. You find yourself looking forward to the time you spend together more than you like to admit. You have no idea if your fondness is reciprocated to the same extent and you also have no idea how to broach the subject with him. Much like a skittish animal, you're always careful about how you make changes to your dynamic. It's something you try not to dwell on, if he likes you or if you'll tell him you like him and how to do so, things are good between you two and as they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it. 

Your head snaps up at the sudden rush of fear you sense. The book in your lap long forgotten anyway as you had been lost in your thoughts until the dread you felt in your very bones pulled you from them. It's not your own though, that panic, and you have to take a moment to pinpoint the source. You gasp when you realize it's coming from Steven. It's been a while since you felt someone's feelings so uninhibited and you rush out of your apartment before you can even consider a plan. He must be in trouble for you to feel his alarm this way. When you reach for his doorhandle you hear some sort of crashing sound inside and you force open his apartment door to find Steven evading someone attempting to corner him in the apartment.

"Steven!" You gasp when the masked intruder chucks some sort of dagger at him.

"Y/n?! Get out of here!" Steven shouts at you from behind the couch. You ignore him and charge the attacker by launching yourself using Steven's side table. The attacker can't react quickly enough to the kick that you aim directly at their chest and they go down hard. You don't give the stranger a chance to get up and strike either of you, taking advantage of their disoriented state you slip into their mind, 'suggesting' that they leave and forget they ever came here, forget Steven even exists and forget you while you're at it. When the masked assailant stands again they climb out of the window they came through without saying a word.

"Are you alright Steven?" You frown turning your attention to where he's frowning from behind his kitchen counter. When did he move behind the kitchen counter?

"What just happened?" He blinks at you.

"I am- a magical being of sorts-"

"Like a witch?"

"Something like that. I mean- I can do magic in the more traditional sense, like spells and such but most of my powers are telepathic. I can read minds and alter memories, reshape reality-"

"What?" You hardly register Steven's shocked exclamation.

"I mean that can take a lot of energy depending on the scale, like I obviously can't do it for everyone, everywhere, at the same time but like- I could say, make it look and feel like there are spiders all over this room." You shrug.

"Why would you ever-"

"Arachnids are a common phobia, it's gotten me out of some touchy situations." You say.

"That doesn't explain what just happened though." Steven shakes his head.

"Oh, I can control people if it comes down to it. I just- made the person leave and forget you exist."

"You can do what?!" His eyes widen.

"I don't use it! Usually. I've only done it a couple of times to protect myself or someone who really needed it." You shrug.

"And your protection was to force someone to do something else against their will?!"

"Hey, that person was literally trying to kill you! I could've taken the violent route instead but I'm not a fan of it!"

"So that man-"

"Doesn't remember being here, doesn't remember attacking you, doesn't even remember you exist. You're safe." You say.

"Holy shit."

"Look I wanted to be honest with you because I care about you but if this is too much for you to handle then- I will leave all I ask is that you keep my secret to yourself."

"You won't just... take it from me?"

"I don't want to. And I won't, unless that information in your hands becomes a threat to my life."

"Have you ever used them on me? Your powers?" He asks. You pause for a moment considering how to answer. Admittedly he doesn't seem to be taking all this super well, you wonder if it would be worse to just say no but looking at him you can't bring yourself to tell the lie.

"I have. Not- on purpose and nothing altering. No mind control or memory changing or reality reshaping- absolutely nothing that changed anything about you it's just that sometimes your thoughts are loud. You yell in your head a lot- in several voices. Sometimes I can hear them." You explain.

"You can hear them? The different voices?"

"Yes. I don't quite understand it but I never snooped I just- would leave when I realized it was happening again." You say.

"I think you should go." Steven says avoiding your gaze. Your shoulders drop for a moment that you're sure he doesn't see.

"I see. Alright but Steven-"

"Your secret is yours. I won't tell anybody." He says quietly. You nod although he's still not looking directly at you.

"Okay. If you need anything- my door's open. Otherwise, take care- Steven." You say and exit his apartment before he can respond. Steven's reaction hurts more than you'd like it to, you suppose you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret from him forever though. It would've come out eventually, especially if you got any closer to him as you had considered. 

The next two weeks are weird. Steven doesn't text you, or call you, or come over for tea or lunch, you make a point not to visit him at work as you are positive he's avoiding you based on the fact that he's clearly adjusted all of his habits so as to not run into to you around the apartment building. That- you think stings more than his initial reaction. To think he was so put out by your revelation that he no longer wanted to even risk seeing you... Whatever, you wouldn't dwell on it. The world keeps spinning. A sudden knock on your door interrupts you before you can focus back on what you were working on. With a confused frown, you walk over to the door and look through the spyhole to see Steven standing in the hall, and that surprises you immensely. For on that knock was sharp and harsh in a way you've never heard Steven knock on anything ever, but also for him to just show up at your door after 2 weeks is... unexpected. You pull open the door and lean casually against the frame.

"Hello." He nods and you immediately notice he does not sound like himself. You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Steven? Hi. What are you doing here? And- why are you talking funny?"

"I'm not Steven my name is Marc Spector." He says.

"Did you hit your head or something?" You snort crossing your arms in confusion.

"No? I'm perfectly fine."

"Right except your name isn't Marc Spector it's Steven Grant. Unless you've been lying to me since we met which- would certainly be interesting but I don't think that's what's happening here." You say.

"Not quite. See we have a... condition-"

"Do not tell me about what's wrong with your body!" You put your hands up to stop him.

"It's psychological." He says.

"Oh okay. Proceed." You say.

"It's called dissociative identity disorder. My mind is- fractured. Essentially this body houses more than one consciousness." He explains.

"This sounds very Jekyll and Hyde and if you're coming to me to say you're a serial killer I don't-" You trail off when suddenly something clicks. "Holy shit you're one of the voices in Steven's head!" You gasp. You knew he sounded familiar but you didn't pinpoint it until just now.

"First of all, it's my head okay I am the original. Secondly- Steven told you about us?!"

"If he did do you think I would sound as confused as I do right now? No, he didn't tell me anything. I just realized why I recognize your voice." You say.

"Recognize my voice?" Now he's looking at you like you're crazy.

"I can hear you sometimes. You are quite loud- especially compared to the other one."

"You can hear us?" His eyes are wide as saucers.

"Yes, never on purpose though. I'm a telepath. I can read minds and change memories and alter reality and stuff like that so- sometimes I can hear you- which by the way we still haven't answered the billion dollar question why are you here?"

"Steven has been moping around for over a week now and every time we force him to leave he looks longingly at your door so I came to find out what the hell you did to him because I swear-"

"I didn't do anything to him. I told him I was a telepath and he freaked. He's been avoiding me since. All on his own. And before you start throwing around threats I'll warn you Marc Spector that I could take hold of your entire fractured little mind without even breaking a sweat. So tread carefully if you're going to start swearing things." Your eyes narrow at him.

"He's been avoiding you?" He blinks.

"We talked about my powers, he asked me to leave, and so I did. Probably assumes I'll take advantage of him using them or something." You shrug.

"Well you did just threaten me."

"It wasn't a threat it was a warning. Besides I'd never hurt Steven, you I don't know and you did start a pretty menacing sentence that prompted me to- never mind."

"Now I'm confused. If he's avoiding you, why is he moping around the apartment?" He frowns.

"You're asking me. You're the one that shares a body with him." You say.

"Explain to me exactly what went down?"

"I was in my apartment and someone attacked Steven- I don't know who or why but could feel it so I went over to help and I used my powers to get rid of them."

"What'd you do? Launch him out the window?"

"No? I just made him forget about us and where he was but when he mindlessly climbed back out the way he came in without attacking us I obviously had to explain some things. I guess Steven didn't take it all that well." You shrug.

"That doesn't sound right. I think you should talk to him."

"I- don't think he wants to do that." You shake your head.

"No. No, this has gone on long enough. Hang on." Marc says.

"Marc seriously mind your-"

"Y/n?" He grimaces. You recognize immediately that it's Steven you're talking to now.

"Steven- one the uh- voices? Marc? He thinks we need to have a conversation. Does he make a habit of meddling in your life this way?"

"Less often than you might think but- I do owe you an apology." His head drops.

"What for, exactly?"

"How I- handled things before. I was... cold, it's just that when you said you could hear Marc and Jake I was worried about what else you-"

"I'm sorry, who is Jake?" You shake your head at him.

"The identity disorder thing- there are three of us as far as we know. Myself, Marc, and Jake." Steven says and you nod as you piece it together.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to guess that Marc and Jake are not your only secrets?"

"No actually. Marc is an avatar."

"Of what?" You ask. Steven's shocked confusion prompts you to fill in the gaps, "I've met avatars for each of the sins so, one of those maybe? Or a celestial body of some sort? The moon perhaps- I'm guessing you don't mean in the same sense as the cartoon boy because people with elemental manipulation do not refer to themselves that way in real life so-"

"Khonshu." Steven says when you trail.

"What?"

"He's- Khonshu's avatar."

"Egyptian God. Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong he's the god of justice, right?"

"That's right." He nods.

"So the guy that was attacking you a few weeks ago was probably mad at him for- something related to that."

"Most likely. Can't imagine a museum guest putting a hit out on me for not having any more pyramid pens or something." Steven scratches the back of his neck and you chuckle a bit at his joke.

"Interesting."

"Look- that day, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to tell you. I've never told anyone this before, the only person that knows is Marc's ex-wife, so when you said you could hear our thoughts I was worried you knew more than just that there were voices in my head and- I'm sorry." Steven trails off with a sigh.

"So- what changed? Why are you telling me now?"

"Well Marc revealed himself to you." Steven says. "But more than that I just- really hate not being able to talk to you. I like my life way more with you in it but I- after how I reacted I sort of figured I'd earned my misery, that I didn't deserve your forgiveness because when you chose to trust me with your secrets I turned you away, I even judged you, instead showing literally any modicum of support of the person I care about. I made an ass of myself."

"I wasn't upset with you, you know. I mean as far as shitty reactions go yours doesn't even make the top 5. You didn't tell the apartment building to gather their pitchforks so- I count that as a win." You shrug.

"I would never-"

"I know." You nod. "While we're- confessing our sins anything else you wanna share?" You ask with a chuckle. Steven holds your gaze for a long moment and there's a brief second where you consider finding out for yourself what he's contemplating so hard, you won't of course, but the silence drags long enough to make you want to rescind the question. Eventually, Steven's hand grabs your arm and yanks you towards him. His eyes are so wide at the action you'd think he's not the one who pulled you but before you can ask him about it his lips are on yours. The kiss is short and a bit unsure but his mouth is soft against yours and when he pulls away still with that wide-eyed look you do nothing but blink at him for a moment.

"I- I'm so sorry that was- I mean Marc was- I didn't plan- I wasn't going to-"

"Steven." You place your hand against his cheek to halt his frazzled rambling. "Did you want to kiss me?" You ask.

"I've wanted to kiss you for months." He breathes.

"Then don't apologize. I've wanted to kiss you too."

"Really?"

"Yes so- I think I'm going to do it again." You say pausing long enough to give him an out. When his eyes flutter closed you take that as your sign to lean forward and connect your lips again. You're sure in that moment you could do this forever and you silently wish to whatever powers above that you'll have that long to do it as many times as you wish.

***

A/N: I'm thinking of turning this into an anthology (like There is No Right Way) of the moonknight trio dating a telepath because I think it would be interesting idk- anyone interested in more of this dynamic?

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant angst

[ichorai]

dlz ; jake lockley.

track ten of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; jake lockley x gn!reader

synopsis ; jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

words ; 3.5k

themes ; angst, mild fluff, married au

warnings / includes ; suggestive, implications of sex, jake is a rough kisser e_e, mentions of injury/blood, mild cursing, marc and steven both have appearances, jake is emotionally constipated, jake calls reader peach !! reader is a sweetheart <3

main masterlist.

Jake Lockley didn’t like your perfume—it was almost nauseatingly fresh and its smell permeated through his own clothes so that he’d often walk out smelling like he had doused himself in Febreze. 

He didn’t like the way you’d hum to his favorite songs while doing the dishes. Nirvana, Elliott Smith, Radiohead—were you singing them on purpose just to annoy him? Nearly every night, he could hear your faint voice drift into the living room, where he was reading the same three sentences of the daily paper over and over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your endearingly inconsistent mutters to the music.

He especially hated when you’d walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Steven’s shirt loosely draped over your form, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your heavy-lidded eyes. There was just something about seeing you at your most vulnerable. You were comfortable around him, and that made Jake uneasy.

When Jake fronted, he slept in the guest room. Marc had convinced him not to blow more money staying at a hotel—and Steven was trying to persuade him to at least sleep in the same bed as you. After all, they were married to you. 

But Jake wasn’t your husband. Steven and Marc were. Jake was just… he was just there. A ghost living in your house.

The very thought of sharing a bed with you made a chill dance down Jake’s spine. He could never. As appealing as the thought of having you slotted between his arms, sleepily recounting how your day went to him, sounded, he couldn’t ever have that. Jake Lockley wasn’t a domestic man.

His hands would always be dripping with blood that wasn’t his, no matter how hard he tried scrubbing it away.

There were times Jake felt a morsel of regret. He was nowhere near nice to you, and yet you still spared him that infuriatingly patient, sweet smile, always telling him to stay safe before he left to drive his cab around (or do Khonshu’s dirty work), and never failing to whisper good night before slipping into your bedroom. 

Sometimes he had a queer, niggling feeling scratching at the pits of his stomach one would commonly refer to as jealousy. He knew that Marc and Steven got to hold you, kiss you, tell you they loved you as they pleased. 

Jake couldn’t do that. Jake wasn’t even entirely sure he was capable of loving someone. 

What made it even worse was that Jake learned about you through them—not because he ever actually tried to get closer to you.

He knew you loved apricots, but not as much as peaches. He knew you loved lighting scented candles whenever it rained. He knew you named each one of your house plants. He knew you were only slightly ticklish. He knew you had a tell; your nose would twitch and your eyebrows would quirk upwards whenever you lied. He knew from Steven to kiss just above your pulse point against the column of your throat to make you melt into him. He knew you had a birthmark between your thighs from when Marc—

Yeah, he’d rather not think about that one.

Jake knew you cried a lot—that one he learned on his own. He could hear you through the walls, but you probably weren’t aware of that fact. 

One night, Jake sat in the living room, staring into nothing, heart twisting angrily at himself until he couldn’t take it anymore, storming out of the apartment after shoving his hat onto his head and grabbing his cab’s keys. Steven and Marc had yelled angrily at him the whole time, but he learned to block their voices out. 

He wasn’t very good in the emotional department, that was abundantly clear.

When he came back home hours later, having driven around the city several times to clear his head, he tried to be as quiet as possible. At an hour as late as this, you were bound to be asleep, right?

But alas, there you were, curled into the corner of the couch, head uncomfortably lolled onto your shoulder. The house was entirely dark save for the dim glow of the television, casting a blue luminescence over your dozing form. Long shadows kissed the slopes of your features, softened with sleep. He noticed that there were tear tracks faintly outlined over the skin of your cheekbones.

Jake froze at the doorway for a moment. Were you waiting for him to come home?

He pushed down any and all intrusive thoughts, begrudgingly shrugging off his coat and hanging up his hat. A calloused palm carded through messy, coffee-hued curls. 

Heart dipping heavy within his chest, Jake stalked forward to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table. He stood over you for a moment. A frown twisted at the corner of his lips, drawing his brows together.

Jaw clenching, Jake stepped away from you, slipping into the hall. He leaned against the door to the guest room for a moment, huffing out a low groan. Gods, what in the hell was he doing?

After another minute of frustrated hesitation, Jake willed himself to make his way back into the living room. You were twitching in your sleep, eyelids fluttering with what he could guess were the beginnings of a harsh nightmare. 

Gently—or, as gentle as a highly-skilled mercenary could be—Jake hooked an arm beneath the crook of your knee, the other looping over your shoulders and neck. When you stirred, Jake could only quietly make hushing noises, wincing at himself. Thankfully, you didn’t fully awaken, a soft noise falling from your lips as your nose turned to press against the fabric of his shirt obscuring his chest, just above where his heart scratched at the walls of his ribcage.

He kicked the door to your bedroom open none too silently, eager to set you down. Get as far away from you as possible. The sound of the doorknob thwacking against the wall behind it made your lids shoot open, and you groggily mumbled incoherent phrases under your breath before peering up at him with confused, watery eyes. He cursed internally.

“You’re back,” you said, voice hoarse with disuse. “You okay?”

There were lots of things Jake wanted to say to you at that moment.

No, I’m not okay. Were you waiting for me to get home? I’m sorry if I made you worry. I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. Am I an asshole? You shouldn’t ever wait for me again. What were you dreaming of? Was it a nightmare about me?

Instead of any of that, Jake merely set you down onto the mattress with a grunt, dusting his hands onto his pants. He glared down at you as if he was angry—and he was, but not necessarily at you. 

But wasn’t he, though? He was angry that you were just so… so kind to him. He was angry that you were patient. He was angry that you were so easy to love. 

“Go to sleep, peach,” he gruffed. A hot flush coursed over his face at the nickname that had unintentionally slipped out. To his relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your sleepy expression seemed to cave in on itself and you dazedly nodded, head falling back into the pillow. 

If only he could slip in beside you, entangle his legs with yours as you kissed softly over his tense face, call you his.

Jake nearly slapped himself to get his head screwed on straight. He spared your already-sleeping form one last glance before trudging out of your room. Hurriedly, he threw himself into the guestroom, ripping off his shirt and pressing a palm flat against his chest to quell the racing thunder of his heart.

You were not good news for him. 

You didn’t see Jake for weeks after that incident. 

A part of you was glad—you were beginning to miss the sound of Steven’s sweet voice, his tender touches, his passionate kisses. You missed Marc’s back hugs, his strange fixation with your bare legs, his lopsided smiles.

The other part of you, however, wondered about Jake.

“Does Jake ever… say anything to the two of you?” you asked Steven one day, stirring sugar into your steaming tea as you leaned against the kitchen counter. Your husband looked up from the novel he was reading, pushing his glasses up his nose while considering your question. 

“Sometimes. Mostly stays to himself—quite the quiet bloke, innhe? Why, love?”

Your bottom lip trembled as you glared into your tea, as if it was the source of all your troubles. Steven was immediately out of his seat, tugging you close until your forehead rested upon his clavicle bone. You sniffled into him, crushing your eyes shut with shame. 

“Does he hate me?” you asked, voice cracking. “I don’t… I don’t know what I did to make him—”

Steven immediately held you all the closer, crooning out, “No! No, of course not, silly. He’s just… he’s just having trouble with himself, that’s all. Doesn’t really talk to us much, either. It’s not you, love, I promise. In fact, I’m nearly certain he fancies you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” you said, scrutinizing him with wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t need him to love me like you and Marc do. I just… it’s hard when it feels like a man with the same face as your husband hates you.”

Steven’s expression crumbled, and he kissed over your left eyelid softly. “I know. I’m sorry, darling, I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Rubbing soothing circles over your back, he urged you to take a seat next to him, leaning over to move your mug of tea from the counter to the kitchen table. “Come on, I’ve got an amazing poem I want you to read.”

It was only two days later that you saw Jake again. You strode through the door, juggling grocery bags in one hand and a stack of books you borrowed from the library in the other. With a huff, you set the groceries down in the kitchen, turning around to see Jake quietly observing you, leaning against the fridge. You bit down a startled scream, flinching at his unexpected presence. 

“Oh,” you said after a second of flustered silence. “Hi, Jake. Didn’t see you there.”

He was observing you with such a sharp gaze that it felt like his irises were cutting straight through your flesh. Finally, he pushed away from the fridge, slowly moving towards you until he stood just in front of you, about an arm’s length away.

“Jake, what are you—?”

“I don’t hate you, peach,” the man said, all gravelly and brusque.

It took you a moment to fully register what he was saying. “Oh,” was all you said, parroting yourself from five seconds ago in a rather poignant manner. “Well… I don’t hate you, either, Jake. Far from that.”

You could see the struggle in the dark depths of his irises. Turmoil raged behind those narrowed lids, and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to look away, not even if you tried. 

Feeling bold, you shuffled forward to slowly raise your hands, cupping Jake’s face within your palms. His glare seemed to harden at first, always so angry at things for not going the way he expected it to go, muscles tensing beneath your touch—but when your fingers gently scraped over his stubble, he could feel himself letting go, practically liquefying into you.

“Why are you like this, Jake Lockley?” you murmured, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. The action made his eyelids flutter shut. He’d never let himself be this vulnerable in front of you before. He wasn’t prepared for his walls to come crashing down around him so quickly—so easily. “Did I do something to upset you?”

All previous inhibitions thrown out the window, Jake grumbled out a small, “Yeah. All the fuckin’ time, peach.”

You quirked a brow. “Go on, then.”

One of his eyes opened before sliding closed again. “Where do I start? You smell too good—I can never concentrate around you. You’re always singing my favorite songs and it’s buggin’ the hell outta me. You’re always so nice to me—even though you know I’m not like your precious Steven and Marc.”

Something akin to a guffaw fell from your lips. “Well, first of all, thank you? Somehow you managed to compliment me in the rudest way possible, and I commend you for that. Second, I know you’re not like Steven and Marc. But I still love you all the same.”

The kitchen grew so quiet, Jake could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop.

His heart began tripping over its own gallop of a pace. You’d said it so easily, so swiftly, as if loving him came as naturally as breathing. 

Jake found his eyes falling to your mouth, slightly puckered to the side in thought. 

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, you started saying, “Jake—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted, glowering at you with a newfound fire crackling behind his eyes. 

You blinked once, then twice. Then you nodded.

A small sigh of content that made Jake far too excited for his own good escaped your lungs as he dove forward and melded his lips with yours, dipping you backward ever so slightly in the midst of his vigor. 

He kissed differently than Steven or Marc did. Steven was languid, careful, and tender whilst Marc was feverish, calculated, and explorative.

Jake Lockley, however, kissed like a mad man. He was all tongue and teeth, desperately furious with his motions, kissing you as if it was the very last time he’d have the chance to do so. His nose slotted against yours, brushing against your cheek as you caved into him, arms winding over his neck to pull him ever so close. 

His fingers immediately clutched at your waist, one moving upwards beneath your (Marc’s) shirt to lightly scratch over the skin of your ribcage and the other shifting lower to tug over the back of your thigh. 

Gods, you just felt so right. 

“Mmh, peach,” Jake growled into your skin as he traversed down your neck, biting at the spot just above your pulse point, which made a low, desperate noise scratch at the back of your throat. He’d do anything to hear that noise over and over again.

“Why do you call me that?” you panted out, fingers threading through his haphazard curls to haul him away from your neck and back onto your lips. 

“You like peaches,” he breathed into you, a groan of agony rumbling from his chest when you nipped at his bottom lip with a hum of approval. “Don’t you?”

A choked sound was all you could let out when he shoved you none-too-gently against the counter, bending over to accommodate for his eager lips over yours.

“I love them,” you whispered once he parted away to catch his breath. 

There it was again. The L word. 

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

Suddenly, as if snapped back into reality, Jake halted any and all ministrations, nose only a hair's breadth away from your neck. You smelled so damn good, so tantalizingly tempting, lips raw-bitten and skin flushed with heat.

But Jake couldn’t. You didn’t belong with a person like him. With Steven? Yeah, of course. With Marc? The idiot loved you too much to ever let you go, even if he tried to. 

Jake would bring you nothing but pain and misery and the thinly-veiled threat of danger. 

“This is a mistake,” he said, voice rough with tremendous restraint.

He thought that if he kissed you, all these stupid feelings would wash down the drain, as if you’d be able to suck it all out of him like a goddamn love vacuum. But, no, it was as if just having a taste wasn’t enough. He needed the rest of you. He needed all of you.

But he couldn’t.

“Jake…” Your voice was quiet, breaking off slightly when he let go of you, stepping back while glaring a hole into the ground. 

With the maturity equivalent to that of a prepubescent teenager, Jake stormed out of the kitchen and into the hall, slamming the guest room door behind him so hard that the picture frames of you and Steven and Marc on the walls rattled. 

A week passed by until you saw Jake again.

You were in bed with Marc, shivering as he ran his palms down your waist, swatting his hands away while gritting out, “That tickles, Marc!”

He hummed noncommittally, pressing kisses down your shoulder, nosing your cheek affectionately. 

“Tell me about this one,” he whispered into you, taking your hand to trace a thin scar over the inside of your wrist.

“I was seven,” you whispered. “This boy pushed me off a swing in the playground. I threw my hands out and a rock got me bad—fractured my wrist, too. I don’t remember much, but I remember there was a lot of blood. I’m pretty sure the poor kid was the one that ran screaming for a teacher to come help.”

Marc regarded you with a look of pure adoration, thinly laced with amusement. “Did you really just call the bastard who pushed you a ‘poor kid’?”

You barked out a laugh and he pressed a lasting kiss over your faded scar.

“Alright, your turn. Tell me about this,” you playfully pressed your thumb between his brows. “You got a little divot here. Been furrowing your eyebrows too much, huh? And you wonder why I call you the grumpy eagle muppet.” When he rolled his eyes, you chuckled out, “What? Listen, it’s not my fault Khonshu got rid of all your scars! I gotta work with what I’m given, here!”

“That’s enough out of you,” Marc bit out, though you could tell he wasn’t really being serious with the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, turn around. Sleep time, baby. Love you.”

You hummed in mild contentment, turning around so your back molded perfectly against his chest. “Love you, too, Marc.”

The rise and fall of his chest was deep, rhythmic, so calming that you were just on the brink of sleep—

Until it stopped.

You could feel the body wrapped behind you stiffen. Immediately, you knew this was Jake.

With a lump lodged in your throat, you hesitantly turned around, only to be met with Jake staring back at you, wide-eyed. It was dark, so you could just barely make out the upset tautness of his features.

Jerkily, he started moving to clamber off the bed, all but shaking you off of him like you were a pesky insect.

No. No, you wouldn’t stand for this.

“Jake,” you said firmly, reaching out to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Stay. Please.”

Mute, the man shook his head, legs slipping out from beneath the blanket. 

Desperate, you sat up, wrapping your arms around his midriff and pressing your cheek into his back as you said, “You deserve love, Jake. You deserve my love. Please, stay.”

For a moment, you wondered if he’d just push you off again. Disappear into that guestroom you were too scared to venture into when he left for work. Just when you were on the near precipice of relinquishing any and all hope, you could feel Jake’s shoulders sag. His head hung low as he sighed.

Wordless, he shifted around and you let go of him so he could slip back under the covers. 

Tentative, you laid down next to him, shifting so your head could rest over his chest. His arm jostled around to rest comfortably beneath your neck. 

Jake held you differently from Marc and Steven.

Jake held you as if he was afraid you’d break apart. Jake held you like he had to be ready to let you go at any moment. Jake held you like he was afraid to show you just how much he loved you.

You craned your neck upwards to press a light kiss to his stubbled jaw, then settled back down.

You heard Jake sigh, but this time, it was one of pure relief—utter bliss. It was quiet, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, nose tucked into your hair. “I’ll try to be better with you. I’ll try, peach.”

Nodding minutely, you intertwined your hand with his free one, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “I know.”

Just before your breaths evened with sleep, Jake could only barely hear you drowsily mumble out, “I love you, Lockley.”

He knew you were already asleep, which made the feat of saying it back somewhat easier for him.

“Love you, too, peach.”

#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley angst #jake lockley fluff #moon knight fanfic #moon knight angst #moon knight scenarios #moon knight drabbles #jake lockley drabbles #jake lockley scenarios #jake lockley smut #moon knight smut #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #moon knight fluff #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

how would the moon boys react to reader flirting w another person to make them jealous? (they're friends w benefits)

okay so I made this a tad angsty just bc I feel it suits and bc I wanted it, but shush, that’s neither here nor there. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

FWB MAKING THE MOONBOYS JEALOUS.

moonboys x gn reader (not as the moon system)

warnings. angst? bad writing/ thoughts and hcs

I feel like marc is a lot more insecure than he lets on or more than one may think. he's usually the type to shrug and gruff dismissively, not wanting to bring attention to it, or to the fact that he cares about something... you. because you're casually messing about, he tries not to expect anything else of you. to see you flirting may make him feel insecure and make him remember what a fuckup he is. it would make him feel stupid to think that you'd want something more with him. I don't think he would take it too lightly, and would most likely be wounded by your games. how you'd essentially toy with him when he put himself out there (he's probably had lots of casual sex before, but nothing quite like your situation) maybe he doesn't like to be on the opposite end of the stick - to be the one that is more invested in a 'relationship'. I feel like he'd brush you off, saying, "yeah, yeah im good. gonna uh— gonna head to bed now."

with steven I think he's always wary about situationships - it's not something he's usually down for. except maybe he really likes you, and this way being friends with benefits is as close as he can get to being with you, so he takes the opportunity. again, same with marc, it would make him feel insecure for you to flirt with someone else to make him jealous. it would make him feel inadequate to think he had a shot with you. he already felt like you were out of his league, and it would make him feel ridiculous for thinking otherwise. maybe he would laugh it off and pretend he was okay with you 'toying' with him, but really he'd just be upset and disappointed (in himself and dare I say... you... soz) I feel like he'd chuckle and say, "yeah, no— no, that was— yeah, you got me there." and he'd just walk off

for jake im on the fence a bit here. one hand I think he'd entertain it, maybe playing you and retaliating to make you jealous. he would find himself someone on their own at the bar, just in eye sight of you and would hit on them - making sure you can see. he thinks that becuase you're playing games, he gets to as well. BUT im also weighing with the fact of how volite and explossive he can be, and how he reacts before he can think. so perhaps if you're flirting with another man, he'd go up to you both and push him away, maybe holding your arm and walking you out the bar. mumbling to himself as he pushes past people. he'd be like, "what the hell was that? going around and flirting with people you meet at bars?" and then you say, "we're not dating. we aren't anything," and then he'd be like, "yeah, you're right," and then would let go of your arm and nod and walk away

#request #yonlyssguts #marc spector #marc spector angst #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant angst #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley angst #jake lockley x reader #gn reader #moon boys #moonknight x reader #moon knight

[the-witheredroses]

Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

—————————————————

Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

#miguel o’hara angst #moon knight angst #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #jake lockley angst #basil stitt #blue jones #poe dameron angst #Nathan Bateman #duke leto atreides #Prince John #santiago pope garcia #Anselm Vogelweide #llewyn davis #abel morales #angst #miguel ohara #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #Poe dameron

[blue-sadie]

A Dark Slumber

they accidentally hurt you when having a nightmare

Steven Grant

The nightmares only started after the whole experience death and finding out his purpose of living he felt used and betrayed, he couldn't stomach looking at marc for a while let alone talking to you about it but what hurt him most was his mother's death.

You both layed soundly in your bed the only noise was from the fish tank that released bubbles every few moments, it was peaceful well for you, Steven's nightmare started with his leg twitch then to his hands pulling at the covers, he started muttering words no one could understand.

He woke you up when he accidentally smacked you in your face making you squeaked out which made him sit up in alarmed by your noise, he'll look around frantically intill his eyes landed on you holding your cheek and he immediately knew what he did.

The first thing he did was ask if your ok he wouldn't come close to you unless you tell him it's ok, he would feel ashamed and full of guilt and breakdown he would tell you everything that's been on his mind mostly about the nightmares and of the things he saw when he died "i-ive just been so stuck in my mind I guess my feelings were just catching up to me"

Marc Spector

He always had nightmares from his childhood but they've never been this bad, after the countless missions he's done he would think that killing would get easier that the guilt feeling would subside but it never did it was actually getting the best of him sometimes.

You were pretty used to his slight movements and bumps in the night he was a restless sleep it was very rare when he had a peaceful slumber, his hands would grasp the blankets tightly his breathing uneven as he twist and turned.

You woke up gasping as you felt your air way close your hands immediately wrapped around his he would only wake up probly when you gasped out his name, he would immediately release your neck and stare blankly at his hands.

He would quickly raise fron the bed and refuse to get back in, you'd have to coax him back in after nights of him on the couch he would take alot of convincing and time to even touch you again the images of him strangling you crossing his mind everytime he comes into contact with your skin "I don't know what came over me it felt as if I lost control of my whole body it was... scary".

Jake Lockley

He never had dreams only nightmares but that hardly ever happened anyway since he normally stares up at the ceiling as you slept beside him, he'll do anything to stay awake the thought of sleeping repulsed him but it was actually the fear if what he'll see that stopped him.

He only closed his eyes for a minute only wanting a slight rest but that was quick to turn into a long slumber but that miracle turned sour as his body started to flinch and his rapid eye moments were frantic, his body thrashed around kicking the blankets off of him and he squirmed around.

The thing that woke you was when you came into contact with the ground the coldness and shock of the fall caused you to scream making him fling himself out of bed to your rescue but it took him a minute to figure out it was his doing that got you onto the floor.

He would profusely apologize and help you back into bed while cursing at himself in spanish as he took got back into bed, he would cuddle you whispering apologizes and praises while making internal promises to himself that he'll never sleep in your presence again afraid it would be worse next time "I'm so sorry mi amor I promise I'll get better"

#marvel #marvel headcanon #marvel angst #marvel x reader #marvel x reader angst #marvel angst headcanon #moon knight #moon knight angst #moon knight x reader angst #moon knight headcanon #moon system #moon system angst #moon system x reader angst #marc spector #marc spector angst #marc spector x reader angst #steven grant #steven grant angst #steven grant x reader angst #jake lockley #jake lockley angst #jake lockley x reader angst

[mknightgrant]

Silence

Pairing(s): Steven Grant x Reader, implied Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly

Word count: 5.1K. Buckle up, folks.

Warning(s): Insecurities and heavy angst. I cried while thinking of the concept, and I’m hoping this does my idea justice. Set after the finale, so there are spoilers! 

A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing a fic and posting it, so please be gentle! This piece is purely based on research and the events of the series. I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. If any part of this piece offends anyone, please let me know. No offense is intended.

This is also not completely beta-read, so the mistakes are on me.

Summary: You should’ve stopped asking questions. 

Taglist: @s-v-e-l-t-e, @caroldanvours​

Everyone had warned you about the rose-tinted glasses. Your friends, your family, hell, and even your old college professors used to tell stories about how love could be either the best or worst thing that you could ever experience. It was a risk to put your heart entirely into the hands of a stranger, giving them the liberty to do whatever they wanted to it. Love it, cradle it, protect it, sure—but also poke it, stab it, and break it to the point of no return. 

But with Steven Grant? It was a risk you were definitely willing to take. 

You had been friends with him for five months and had been dating for at least eight before he disappeared without a trace. You were confused, to say the least. In the year or so that you have known him, you never would have expected him to disappear and cut all ties with you. But still, you waited. You waited with the hope that maybe he’d come back home to you. 

However, when Steven did return, he was conflicted. He honestly believed that you wouldn’t wait for him, especially since there was no effort on his part to try and contact you after his sudden disappearance. Nonetheless, he felt that he at least owed you an explanation, and his heart squeezed in his chest when you didn’t leave when he told you about everything.

He explained it from the start, his sleeping disorder, how he tried staying up because he had hyper-realistic dreams that scared the hell out of him. You already knew of this early on in the relationship, but then he continued the story, telling you about Marc, about Khonshu, and everything that had happened to him from the day he got fired from the museum to the day he came back home to you. You've noticed that he seemed happier now, probably because he understood why he had been losing days of his life, and he’s come to accept and love his alter despite everything. 

But there was also another reason, wasn’t there?

Maybe it was your fault. You shouldn’t have asked too many questions. You should’ve just taken what he told you, accepted the anecdotes, and moved forward. You should’ve just been happy that he was here and safe. But you just had to ask, right? 

“Who’s Layla?” Your innocent question stopped him dead in the middle of his sentence as the grin he donned slowly faded into a tight-lipped smile. One he had hoped would be a little more reassuring than nervous, and maybe, if he hadn’t taken so long to reply, you wouldn’t have been suspicious. 

“A friend of Marc’s.” His reply was short and simple. “I… She was the one who came over that day, remember? When you dropped off that book you borrowed from me? Before I… Before I disappeared?” 

Oh. Of course, you remember Layla–well, her physical attributes, at least. To say that she was gorgeous was an understatement. She was breathtaking, ethereal, and a goddess at the least. However, you hadn’t heard whatever they were talking about when you knocked on the apartment door that day because they stopped talking before Steven opened the door, enough for him to peek out at you. 

Steven’s heart raced as he studied your reaction to his reply, trying to gauge whether or not you heard his and Layla’s conversation. Surely you hadn’t, right? You had no idea about the scarab before he told you about it when he had returned. So that would mean that you probably hadn’t heard the conversation, and you hadn’t seen the way he looked at her the way he once looked at you. You wouldn’t have waited this long for him if you had, right?

He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but he couldn’t help himself, could he? The second his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist when she drove a little faster towards his apartment, and he was hit with “I’m still your wife,” things changed. His mouth moved on its own accord that day as Layla handed him the divorce papers he–technically, Marc–had sent. 

“I would never divorce you.”

Then everything came crashing down after that. Marc had warned him against showing Layla the scarab, but she got around to it anyway, so it was too late. Steven had begged for her help, trying to explain the whole situation, and the entire thing merely confused Layla even more. 

“You really don't remember why we've been looking for this? Our adventures. Or our life together?”

“Oh, God, I wish I could.”

You had come knocking on the door only a few minutes later, a smile on your face as you held up his newer copy of Marceline Desbordes-Valmore’s book of poetry. “Steven! Hi! I finally got around to reading this, but I have to say that I don’t exactly ge-” 

Your words were abruptly cut off when Steven dragged you into the apartment, shutting the door behind you. None of you were quite sure why he had done that, but now that he’s thinking about it, maybe Marc had been the reason for it all. 

You hadn’t had enough time to properly introduce yourself to Layla, and likewise, because the moment your eyes lay upon her, you froze. Who was she? 

The following events flew by too quickly for you to properly grasp at the time. The police knocking on the door, Steven gently urging you to hide, the police making accusations against him, then just silence. 

By the time you believed that the coast was clear, they were gone. The police were gone. The woman was gone. Steven was gone. You had tried going around the area, searching through the different police stations for him, and you had even gone back to the museum to ask if they had changed their mind and were pressing charges. Sadly, nothing. He wasn’t at any of the police stations, nor did the museum change their minds. So you did the only thing you could do at the time. You waited.

You texted him, called him, and left voicemails for him. Hell, you even resorted to emailing him a couple of times, just to see if your messages would reach him. All your efforts were unanswered, and you truly had no idea of his whereabouts until he came back home to you. 

Sure, you’d seen the news about the happenings in Cairo, but never in a million years would you have thought that your boyfriend was the one donning the white suit. 

“Oh!” A smile graced your lips, having merely associated the name with the pretty girl who once stood in the apartment. “I remember her! She helped you guys out? That’s amazing!” 

You were completely unaware that Steven left out an important detail: that Layla was his alter’s wife. In the short period that he had been gone and away from you, he had kissed her and had fallen in love with her too. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Days passed, and you had been invited to the apartment numerous times throughout the week, but you weren’t complaining. You missed Steven, quite frankly, you also wanted to know more about Marc. You had encountered him a couple times when he had been fronting, but your interactions never lasted too long. Steven was usually requested for control whenever you were around, but you were aware of his alter since Steven had explained that they recently learned how to become co-conscious. That didn’t mean that they knew every waking life of the other, but at least the blackouts and memory gaps have lessened considerably.

On random occasions, Steven would continue to tell you stories about what had taken place in Cairo. Some stories were repeats of what he had told you in previous days, while others were memories he had just remembered and wanted to tell you. Sometimes, he’d tell you his thoughts about the event or other questions he had, only to piece the answer together halfway through asking you.

It was the simple moments like these that made you happy, really. To have Steven beside you on the bed, rambling about anything that came to his mind. You didn’t mind when he would tell you a story he had already told you, and you definitely didn’t mind when he would go into the technicalities of the event. 

Though, there was one thing you noticed to have become a recurring topic: Layla. He would bring her up unconsciously, really, or at least, that’s what you would want to believe. But as the days passed, her name frequented his lips more often, and it felt different. It was almost as if he asked you about her daily, bringing her up as if she was the only waking thought he had. If it weren’t for the accent, you would have honestly thought Marc was fronting. She was his friend first, right? 

“Do you think she’s okay? I-I mean, Marc and I were Khonshu‘s avatar, and he was just downright manipulative.” He turned his head to glance at you, “Taweret… Taweret, on the other hand… we met in that afterlife I told you about, yeah? She seemed nice. Helped us escape the Duat and all that, but… I just can't help but wonder, you know? Do you think Taweret is treating her right?” His question remained unanswered as he turned his gaze back up to the ceiling of his apartment, his fingers intertwined and resting on the soft flesh of his stomach. 

You were lying on your side as you looked at him, heart clenching in your chest as you studied the way his eyes shone under the moonlight. It took you a couple of seconds before you were able to bring yourself to nod slowly, swallowing the lump that you hadn’t noticed formed in your throat.

“I’m sure she’s doing alright, Steven. She does sound pretty badass, yeah? She’s saved you and Marc quite a lot, hasn’t she?” Your voice was small as you replied to him, a wave of insecurity wafting over you as things began clicking together in your brain. 

“Yeah? Yeah. She did save us when she freed Khonshu! I swear, though, you should’ve seen her in her armor, love! She looked amazing. I don’t even think I was able to greet her properly, really. Could you believe that? Marc and I were conversing about it the other day, right? And…” 

You toned out his words as you continued to observe the way his mouth moved, how his lips flicked up to a gentle smile as he talked about her, and how he continued to ramble on and on about her. Utterly oblivious to your thoughts, more so to your feelings. You’ve seen this kind of look before.

To be fair, you had been thinking about it for a while. You tried convincing yourself that she had just become a close friend that he began to care about. That he was just concerned about her well-being since she had agreed to become an avatar of an Egyptian goddess, and he nor Marc didn’t exactly have the best time as Khonshu’s avatar. However, the more you studied his words and actions, things became clearer and clearer. It wasn’t until a gentle call of your name snapped you out of your thoughts, causing your eyes to lock with Steven’s worried ones. 

“You… Are you in love, Steven?” You dared to ask, causing silence to fill the room once again. A silence that lasted a couple moments as Steven furrowed his brows, and his hesitation in giving you an answer was already an answer itself. 

The more he talked about her, the more you were able to analyze his reactions and facial expressions and damn yourself for having seen that look in the past. Damn yourself for recognizing it. 

You’ve seen it in the way your father looked at your mother. You saw it in the way your best friend’s spouse looked at them on their wedding day. You recognized it because it was the same look he used to have when he would talk about you. 

“What?” He asked, confusion filling his expressions as he shifted on the bed to bring all of his attention to you. “Of course, I’m in love, sweetheart. I’m in love with you.” 

Normally, his expression of love would have you all shy and red in the cheeks, but that wasn’t the case this time. “It’s just…” you frowned, bringing your attention to the ceiling. Roles had been reversed at this point, with you on your back and Steven on his side, facing you. “I’ve seen this look of yours before, you know? It’s the look of a man who’s fallen in love…” your voice trailed off at the end, pursing your lips as you tried to get your emotions in check. The can of worms has been opened, right? There isn’t much of a way back from it now. “It’s the look you used to have for me.” 

Steven frowned as well. “Used to have? Darling, I don’t know what you’re going on about?” 

You chose to ignore his comment, another question leaving your lips before you could even process the thought.

“Who is she to you, Steven? Who is Layla to you?” There was a slight shake in your tone, “You.. You said she’s a friend of Marc, yeah? But who is she to you?”

His eyes softened at the question, pursing his lips in response. If he were to be honest with you, he didn’t know who she was to him at this point. Was he attracted to her? Had he actually fallen in love with her in that quick of a timeframe? 

Steven had always prided himself in the fact that he didn’t fall in love too quickly. Sure, he had casual crushes from the museum and friend crushes around the town, but this was different–Layla was different. 

His brain often short-circuited when he was around her, and he just couldn’t help but admire everything about her. Maybe it was their shared interest in hieroglyphics and astronomy, or maybe it was something about her beauty in general, or maybe something about her intelligence and the way she was always there. She understood him, and she fought for him too. However, there was one thing he was sure of–she was Marc’s wife, not just a friend like he made it out to be. 

But deep down inside him, he knew that he had fallen for her. He technically did confirm it back in one of those tents in Cairo, didn’t he? When Marc interrogated him about being in love with his wife? He hadn’t verbally answered the question, but his actions were enough for Marc to know that he had. The kiss he shared with Layla was also enough for him to know that he had. 

Steven’s lack of response broke your heart, to say the least. The lack of a verbal response already served as the answer you hoped you wouldn’t have to receive from him. 

The silence between you two didn’t last as long as you thought it would, having a sigh leave his lips as he brought his arm over his eyes. 

“I-I don’t know.”

His words brought your attention to him once more, seeing his body tense up as he gulped. You should have played it off and moved on by this point, right? But you couldn’t. Not when his body language told you more than enough. You sensed the truth in his statement; you’d give him that. But at the same time, you also felt the conflict that was arising within him, and you knew that was because of you. 

It definitely did not help your thoughts when he sniffled. Perhaps you were missing the bigger picture? Fuck. Maybe you overreacted? Had you offended him? 

“Shit. Wait, lovie–I’m sorry. We can drop it, yeah?” You offered, sitting up abruptly and moving closer to him so you could lift his arm from his face, your heart breaking at the sight of tears rimming at the corners of his eyes. “I just… You were gone for so long and since you came back, you’d always just bring her up and I was just curious.”

Steven sat up as well, and your hand moved to cup his cheek, causing him to lean in against your touch. “That’s all. But I believe you, okay, lovie? I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry..” 

The thing is, you and Steven barely got into misunderstandings, and on the rare occasion that you did, whoever was in the wrong would apologize with a kiss. So that’s exactly what you intended to do. You moved closer and leaned in to press your lips to his, only for him to pull his head back slightly in hesitation–another event you weren’t prepared for.

Swallowing back a sob, his eyes bore into your saddened ones. Guilt overcame his features almost immediately at the sight. You at least deserved the truth, right? 

“I… She isn’t… She isn’t just Marc’s friend.” He whispered, bringing his hand to cup your own when he felt your touch falter slightly. 

You felt as if you already knew where this conversation was headed, based solely on how he was basically tiptoeing around you, but you desperately wished you were wrong. “I… Is there something else you’d like me to know, Steven?”

“Layla… She’s Marc’s wife, darling.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for that. You would have at least thought that she was Marc’s girlfriend or something along those lines, but you never would have thought that the alter of the man you were dating was married. 

“She’s…” your voice trailed off as your hand slowly dropped from his cheek, causing him to move quickly to take your hands back in his. “He… You knew about this? When did she tell you? Or when did Marc tell you?” 

“She told me the day that we met… Marc wanted to get a divorce because Khonshu wanted to have her as his next avatar, but Marc never signed the papers.” He quickly explained, tilting his head slightly so he could meet your eyes when you shifted your attention to your hands in his. “She tried giving me the papers that day but I couldn’t sign them–”

That sentence alone made your eyes shoot up, locking with his. “You couldn’t sign them?” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to grasp the information that was being handed to you. Shaking your head as your heart pounded against your chest, you continued, “You… You knew that she was Marc’s wife from the first day, yet you lied to me?” 

He looked down at your hands, which he still held in his, as a response, his thumb moving in circles in an attempt to soothe you, as if it would do much. 

You honestly did not have the energy to be mad at him. Technically speaking, he hadn’t done anything wrong either. Your relationship did not have a title, and while you were definitely past the ‘I love you’ stage, he wasn’t your boyfriend. Based on your knowledge, you don’t have high hopes that he will ever be either. 

“You should have just told me. Hell, even just… not saying anything as a response would have sufficed as an answer.” Was all you could bring yourself to say after a couple moments of not saying anything to one another. Your words were leaving your mouth slowly as if articulating every single word you were about to say. “Lying… Lying isn’t better than silence, Steven. I-I would have understood… I mean, it was coming, wasn’t it?” 

His head shot up at that, and his gaze met with yours once more. “Wha-”

It was your turn to cut him off. “Do you love her, Steven?” You asked once more, a small smile gracing your lips. If he hadn’t known you as well as he did, he would’ve been convinced that you were okay, but he knew better than that. 

You were convinced that you would be met with another round of silence, but you were mistaken. 

“I-I think I do…?” He mumbled softly, gritting his teeth as he shook his head. You weren’t quite sure what his head shake was in response to, but you couldn’t exactly bring yourself to even process the action. “I don’t know, I can’t–You’re my first love, darling, I swear–” 

His words turned into incoherent mumbles as he desperately tried to find the words to explain himself. To explain his feelings in a way that would hurt you in the least brutal way possible, but no matter how he chooses to explain it, his words are bound to hurt. 

“I may be your first, but that’s all I’ll ever be, yeah?” Your voice was almost as soft as a whisper as you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “And it doesn’t matter though, does it, Steven? It doesn’t matter if I'm your first, I-I’ll never be your last. I’ll never be your only.” Maybe you were rambling at this point, but everything was crashing down around you. The man you had been waiting on, the relationship you were clinging on to, and everything you have come to love was slipping through your fingers so quickly. To make things worse, your acceptance of it all merely serves as the catalyst to the inevitable end. 

“I’m never going to make you choose, lovie… You know that, right?” A tear found its way down your cheek as you brought his hand to your lips to give it a gentle, lingering kiss. “It’s okay, Steven.”

He felt unworthy of you, to say the least. You deserved so much more than a man who leaves without a trace and whose loyalty did not fully reside with you. The memory of the kiss he shared with Layla plagues his mind, and the confession burns in his throat as he wonders if it's even worth it to tell you–to break your heart more than he already has.

“I’ve always considered myself lucky to have you, you know? It just… our whole relationship felt so good. Too good, actually.” You smiled sadly, tears brimming the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to look at the man you love. The one you allowed yourself to fall for so recklessly with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would love you back, even if just half as much as you did him. “She made–no, she makes you happy, doesn’t she? She kept you safe and fought for you. She saved you, and I just…” 

Steven’s eyes shut tightly at your words, shaking his head rapidly as he desperately tried to think of the words to say to you. “It wasn’t on you, darling… Please don’t blame yourself for this.” 

His response was typical, but you couldn’t blame him. “I don’t blame anyone for this, Steven, okay?” Your tone was free from any malice or bitterness, but the sadness that laced your words was still quite evident. “I could never hate anyone who makes you feel safe and happy, you know that. The only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Steven, and if she makes you happier than I ever could, then….” 

“No.” The fact that you couldn’t even bring yourself to finish that sentence broke him. His head continued to shake as if to convince himself that this isn’t happening to him, that you weren’t actually considering leaving him. He is well aware that you deserve better, but could anyone blame him for being selfish? After everything he’s been through? And after everyone he’s lost? “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Your hand reaches up to cup his cheek once more, your thumb gently grazing his skin as your eyes drink up the sight of him. Memorizing him. Every single bump and wrinkle. Every single self-acclaimed imperfection, in Steven's opinion. Every single thing that made him Steven and made you love him even more. “I love you, Steven Grant. I love every single bit of you, and I hope you never forget that.” 

Your insecurities were getting the best of you. How could they not? The woman he had fallen for was here in the room with you that fateful day and had followed him somehow. Helped him. Protected him. She had everything you didn’t–bravery, strength, the brain, the beauty. And to top it all off? She had him, whether she was aware of that fact or not, she had won Steven’s heart, probably the same way she had won Marc’s. How could you ever compete with that?

You laid a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. He was too engrossed in his thoughts to realize that you stood up, collecting the things that you had brought over for the day. He’s brought back to his senses when he hears you sniffle, and he genuinely wishes he could just take you back in his arms and make you forget that he hurt you. But he doesn’t deserve that, does he? 

Instead, he chooses to repeat his question as he gets off the bed and walks over to you. “Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye?” He asks once more, dejection and defeat clouding his senses. His hands move to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, not wanting to let you go. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but at the same time, he still doesn’t want to lose you.

You hadn’t made him choose between you and Layla because you made that choice for him, and you were letting him go. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to lose you, and at the same time, he didn’t want to lose Layla.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him like a lifeline-your lifeline. A slow nod from you caused his grip on your figure to tighten as he felt your movement, a new wave of tears accompanying the gesture. “Could you do something for me, Steven?”

There were so many questions taking over your thoughts at the moment: 

Why couldn’t you be good enough? How were you going to move on? Why were you stupid enough to think that this would last forever? When did he fall out of love with you?

Instead, you chose something else. A question that hurt him more than it hurt you. “Tell me more about her. Just so I know that I’m leaving you with someone who could love you as much as I could.” 

His grip tightened even more at your request. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you more about her, even if he had talked about her too many times in the past couple of days. He couldn’t do it because he knew that this was your way of seeing how you could have been better for him, where you lacked in your relationship. But the thing is, you never lacked in any aspect–you were perfect, and he doesn’t deserve you. 

A shake of his head was the only response he could give you, causing you to sigh as you gently pulled away from his grasp. It didn’t work though, since his arms were still firmly planted around your waist, but you were pulled apart enough for you to see his face. 

Cupping his cheek once more, you leaned your forehead against his. “Kiss me? Just… Just one last time, Steven. Please.” 

And he did. He pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that would be engraved in your memory forever. A kiss that captured feelings of love, regret, selfishness, and sorrow. A kiss that would be the last of the memories you would share with him in thirteen months you had known each other. A kiss that would ultimately be your last with the man you have grown to love despite the hardships and heartbreak that came with being with him. You never would’ve thought that you and Steven would have your last kiss like this.

“How lucky am I to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard?” You forced out a laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your forehead against his once more. A sad smile graced your lips as your thumb gently wipes away the tears that have made it down his own cheeks. “I love you, and I'm just really grateful that I had you. Even if just for that couple of months that I did.” 

Steven’s eyes drank you up the same way you had earlier, memorizing your features and everything about you. He just hates how the last memory he would have of you would be like this–with your heart broken because of him. 

“Is it selfish if I ask you to stay?” He asked, his voice softer than it usually was when he was with you. And for fucks sake, you almost do, but you can’t. 

“Oh, God, I wish I could.” 

The line jogs his memory, causing his eyes to clench shut. His tears were freely streaming down his face at this point, and he knew he looked like a mess, but he didn’t care. 

“You were good to me, Steven Grant. Thank you.” You couldn’t find the words to say as you pressed your lips against his nose once more. “Thank you, lovie. For letting me love you the way I did.” 

“Please don’t say goodbye.” A broken sob wrecks his lips as tries to convince you to stay, but he knew there was nothing he could do to make that happen. “I-I can’t lose you. Please. You promised.” It was selfish for him to pull this card on you, but believe it or not, he does love you. “You promised…”

Nonetheless, you nod slowly. If he doesn’t want to hear the goodbye, he doesn’t have to. But it doesn’t mean that this wasn’t the last time you would see him. He knows this. 

“I’ll see you later then, yeah? When we meet again?” 

He was shaking uncontrollably now, but he had to let you go the same way you were letting him go. Had roles been reversed, he would’ve done the same for you. 

All he could muster was a nod as he forced himself to release you from his hold. He honestly hated how things went south so quickly, but he was to blame for that, wasn’t he? 

He has to let you go. 

“Laters, gators.”

A gentle kiss on the back of his hand, and a squeeze of reassurance were the last things he remembered before the door of his apartment shut behind you. 

Steven was left in the same way you were when he had disappeared that night. 

In silence. 

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[thesecretwriter]

nightmare - steven grant.

pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

warnings: angst – steven has a nightmare which leaves him startled, fluff – you’re there to comfort him, smut – smutty undertones, ooc!steven grant.

summary: in which y/n comforts steven after he has a nightmare.

word count: 900 words

a/n: been thinking of steven lately and how much I would love a man as soft as he is! 

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists  

The first emotions that ran through your body when you heard his muffled cries were empathy and concern. His form was trembling next to yours, faced etched with fear. Your first instinct was to wake him up.

“Steven, wake up baby. Its okay, wake up,” you said as you leaned over him and stroked his hair comfortingly.

Sweat collected at his brow and his curly hair was a mess at the top of his head.

Your gentle touch to his head seemed to bring him out of his dazed state.

Even in the dark you could see the fear in his expression. He looked around the room alarmingly before settling his gaze on you.

He leaned up on his forearms.

“Darling?... it- the nightmare. I’m sorry,” he couldn’t form a proper sentence as he tried to reel his mind back to form coherent thoughts.

“Shh, its okay baby. It was just a nightmare. S’not real,”

You moved your body closer to his and let him settle his head against your chest as he leaned into you. Your hands made their way to his face and head to comb through his hair.

“It felt real. You were there one moment and gone the next. It all happened right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything,” he explained as he recalled his nightmare.

It’s obvious he was talking about his nightmare, and you knew the one thing he needed right now was someone to listen to him. 

“The thought of losing you… its terrifying. You’re all I have,” he whispers into the dark room.

“I’m here and not going anywhere. You will always have me here with you Steven,” you lay a kiss to his forehead as he closes his eyes for a second.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep,” he says sadly.

“And that’s okay,” you exclaim, knowing that he is going to feel bad.

“I’m sorry I woke you up like that,” he apologizes.

“Baby. One thing I know for sure is that you are not going to apologize for something you cannot control,” you make sure his eyes is on yours as you say this to him.

A small smile graces his lips.

“I love you so much,” he says and leans up to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you too,” you say back as you break the kiss.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep either if you knew Steven could not sleep. So, you opted for making some tea.

“I’m gonna make us some tea, okay?” you ask him as you get out of bed, causing Steven to move off you and lay on his side of the bed.

He lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling when his thoughts begin to wonder to the many times you had helped him in such situations.

You both had been dating for roughly over a year at this point. Having your presence in his apartment felt normal, like this is what his life was meant to be. Having you there in times of need and returning the favor if you ever needed it Before you, he lived life by a schedule, scared to come out of his comfort zone, but the moment he encountered you – that all changed.

He decides to join you in the kitchen, wanting to be near you in that moment.

You’re facing away from him when he walks into the kitchen. You were pouring the sugar into the tea cups since the water was still boiling. 

You feel him before you hear him. Steven stands closely behind you, caging you between the kitchen counter and his body by putting his hands on either side of you.

“I don’t think I appreciate you enough,” he murmurs into your ear as he lays soft kisses down toward your neck. His hair tickling you as he angles himself to kiss your neck. 

Goosebumps erupt on your skin as his hands roam your body beneath you sleep shirt. 

By now Steven has his body flush against yours and you feel all of him.

You feel your arousal growing for him.

“Steven,” you whisper.

“Yes baby?” he whispers back with a hint of a smile in his words.

“Need you,”

In a split second, he turned you to face him and hoists you to sit on the counter, being careful as to not push the teacups over the edge.

His lips are on yours in an instant, he wastes no time, getting straight to the point of wanting to feel you close to him. You’re pulled flush against his body as he kisses you sloppily in the best way possible.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You look into his eyes and see them filled with desire. You always feel the most beautiful when its him that looks at you. There’s just something about the way his eyes look into yours.

“I guess we’re not having tea,” you chuckle as he hooks his arms around you, and you tighten your legs around him. He carries you like this back to the bedroom.

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[jake-g-lockley]

hi! i see that requests are open and i love your writing! could you do an imagine with all three moon boys based on the prompt “running into reader’s ex” thank you! <3

Vengeance (Moon Knight x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

A/N: Hi lovely! Thanks for the ask, here’s the protective moon boys (I had to include the all powerful being too)

Warnings: Slight dark!moon knight, them being extra protective, swearing, mentions of bad mental health and unresolved trauma, Khonshu needs his own warning sometimes. 

Word count: 1.3k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“You know, I really could have just driven us here.” Jake grumbled, one hand protectively clutching onto yours and his other arm slung around your shoulder.

You leaned into him as he guided you through the city’s bustling streets, your bag slung on his shoulder. You smiled at your fiance’s coddling, loving the attention that he brought with him whenever he fronted. 

The new bookstore that you wanted to visit was located in a cultural hub and you had a list of books that you wanted to splurge on. Steven was happy to join you on your spending spree, Jake was happy to carry all of your books and Marc was just happy that you were happy. The second you walked in, you sprinted away from Jake’s protective grasp towards the novel section, making him chuckle at your enthusiasm.

“Don’t go too far princesa, we’re gonna lose you to books, like we always lose Steven.” he joked, shaking his head at you.

“Jake, we are quite literally attached to the same body, what are you on about?” Steven grumbled. 

“I mean mentally, hermano.”

The second you were a bookshelf away from your boys, everything started going horribly. Your eyes landed on someone that made your hair stand on its end, goosebumps rose throughout your skin as you stood frozen, in shock. The person hadn’t seen you yet, instead talking to a customer. You back away slowly, turning the corner before you collide into a familiar chest.

“Aye, why you walkin’ backwards, sweetheart?” Marc questioned, the amusement in his tone fading instantly as he scanned your face. 

He instinctively put his arm around your shoulders and you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his calming scent. You started to count from one to ten, backwards and forwards again and again until your breathing calmed. Marc knew you were scared about something but he didn’t ask instantly, choosing to look at his surroundings to find anything that could have triggered you. You fisted his jacket and pulled him close when he shifted slightly.

“Not going anywhere, baby, we’re still here with you.” he soothed, rubbing your hair and kissing your forehead.

You were safe, you had Marc, Steven and Jake, you were fine. You focused on Marc’s voice, holding on to it like he was your rock as the memories started to flood to you. Marc began to rub a spot on your back that made you begin to tear up. 

“He couldn’t hurt you, not when your boys were around.” you thought to yourself. 

You were pulled out of your swirling memories by the call of your name.

That voice.

“Huh, I thought I saw you here.” said the smug voice.

Marc, Steven and Jake were absolutely confused. Marc looked between the man in front of him and you, trying to piece together what was happening.

“Hiding in the arms of another man like the whore you are.” 

You began to shake in Marc’s arms, fear creeping up your spine and dread flooding you. Marc was in shock. He couldn’t react to what this man had just called you, he just stood there, holding you tighter than ever. You wanted to tell them what was going on, or just pull Marc away from this mess, pretending that it never existed, but you couldn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?” Marc spat when he came to his senses.

A cruel laugh met your ears, your blood curdling at the sound, your heart racing as your brain began to shut down.

“I’m guessing the right slag didn’t tell you about me? I’m her ex.” 

Marc froze. Your ex wasn’t a topic they got to discuss. You had your own troubles, it gave you nightmares and horrible anxiety that plagued you worse than any disease ever. It haunted you but the boys hadn’t figured out how to bring the topic up, choosing to deal with the aftershocks of whatever you had gone through. They were happy with you, they didn’t exactly need a full rundown of your life to know that you were good for them. 

Marc was a little lost, trying to both focus on his own anger and pushing his alters to stay at bay. Khonshu had taken an interest in what was going on and had appeared behind the man that claimed to be your ex. No matter how much he despised the god he worked for, Marc felt relief rush over him, as if Khonshu had casted a safety blanket over them and flashed a reminder in Marc’s mind that he literally had the power of the gods. He swallowed his demons and took a deep breath. 

“I suggest you apologize to my fiance and I before I make your life a living hell, Mr… Vic.” he said, eyeing the man’s name tag.

“Hmph, what can you do? Like I care about her to apologize. She should be the one facing the music.” the man lunged forward and grabbed your arm.

Fear coursed through you like a wave as you felt yourself being pulled away from Marc but all you saw was a flash of white before you. You dropped to your knees as your eyes fell on graying bandages. You knew you were not staring at any one of the boys’ suits. Slowly you looked up and there stood your fiance’s body but he looked different, more dangerous than any of the three could be.

“What the fuck is that!” your ex screamed and looked around but no one came to his aid. 

Reassuring energy took over your fear and you now knew what was happening. Khonshu had taken over Marc’s body, his eyes shining bright and white like a full moon. Your ex was cowering now, his arms over his head as the possessed Marc stepped over your body, towards your ex. 

“Don’t hurt me, please.” he begged and part of you wanted to smile at the fear that was etched on his face.

“You’re going to pay for this.” boomed Khonshu’s voice and all you saw was another flash of white before your whole vision went blank.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up in your fiance’s bed, Steven’s worried and tired face forming in your vision. You tried to smile at Steven but it came out as a grimace as you tried to sit up, your head pounding.

“Shh, stay down, love.” Steven cooed, pushing you back down onto the pillows. 

“What happened?” you whispered.

“Well, our boss decided to show his full form, right in front of you and you passed out.” Steven said nervously, playing with the cuff of his sweater. 

“What happened to, you know…” you asked, fear edging you around you again. 

You were admittedly worried that the four of them had collectively done something irreversible and you stared at Steven with big scared eyes.

“Oh, let's just say that you’ll never have to deal with him again, my darling.” Steven said, his voice a tone lower. “And before you ask, no, he is not dead. Death would be mercy for him.”

Your mouth went dry but you didn’t question it. Instead your hands found the collar of Steven’s sweater and you pulled him down. His lips met yours gently and he pressed his forehead against yours reassuringly.

“I guess I owe the three of you an explanation.” you mumble.

“Only when you are ready, baby.” Marc’s voice slowed your heart and ebbed your anxiousness away. 

“We’ll always wait for you, amor.” Jake promised and with a soft kiss to your cheek he laid down and pulled you over him as you began your story, never feeling more safe in your entire life. 

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With the contact’s Marc had, wiping a person off the face of the Earth without killing them was probably the easiest thing in the world. All it took was a few calls, a little bit of money and Marc’s thoughts slowly started clearing. He didn’t care about the explanation you had for him, he knew your love was true and that fuelled him to do anything for you, no matter the consequence. 

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

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[foreverinadais]

the break-up:

summary: in which y/n is going through a break-up with the moon boys and happens to be serving when one of them is on a date. reader x steven, reader x marc, reader x jake (3rd person, she/her pronouns)

warnings: ANGST (there is fluff, don’t worry) , break-up, language, fem! reader

word count: 4109 

thank you for all the love on this fic!! every interaction has made me smile and is very much appreciated. hope you enjoy :)

Working in at the small Steakhouse restaurant was certainly not what Y/N had envisioned for her career. It was, to put it plainly, becoming rather tedious to deliver the same orders every night to similar faces of people, mostly the ones in love.

Love.

The thought of it made her feel sick. It was not long ago she was that person sat in a small restaurant, gazing longingly into the eyes of one of the three men she had fallen deeply for. She saw herself in those people, full of hope and desire. But now, she saw herself in ones sitting alone, eyes clouded with tears and doubt.

Break-ups were hard.

Especially when it was with 3 separate personalities, people. With each one, she was losing something else- Steven’s unadulterated sweetness, Marc’s vulnerability, Jake’s passion. But all three, together, they completed her, filled her heart with a feeling she had only ever heard of from Shakespeare and Byron- love. Absolute love. And when she lost that, not once but 3 times… she felt loss. Painful, heart-wrenching, unreal loss, that left her reeling in pain every night, and fighting the overwhelming sense of loneliness during the day.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand how it was over. She finally understood how words could carry such pain- we can’t do this anymore. It had hurt more than any punch ever could, felt like a literal dagger in her heart.

“What? What do you mean? Marc?” It was Marc who was nominated by the others to do the deed. Y/N had instantly noticed something was wrong, rushing to his side and comforting him before seeing an unfamiliar look in his eyes, something dark and heavy that made her heart race. He felt a lump form in his throat. No. He was meant to be able to do this.

“I’m sorry. But we… we need to break-up.” The silence that followed was almost unbearable as Y/N studied his features. He almost couldn’t read her expression, almost shocked when she let out a breathy laugh.

“Is this some kind of a joke? Your kidding, right?” Denial. Marc shook his head, having to turn away from her before he broke completely.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, scared that if he attempted to say anything more, his cover would break completely. Y/N was still for a second.

“No. I don’t believe you.” He sighed in a mixture of frustration and sadness, shaking his head. He needed to get it together. “Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you. all of you. you know that Marc, whatever this is, we can work through it, right?” She sounded so sweet, voice collected and comforting.

“I-” The words were escaping his mind as all he could think of was pulling her into his chest and kissing her until neither could breathe. And it was then Jake took control. Y/N could sense his presence immediately; the way his shoulders tensed, his head dipping slightly.

“Jake. What’s going on?” she tried the question again, feeling nausea creep in her stomach.

“Marc said already.” He was being short with her, voice sounding angry, stern. Oh. He was still turned away from her, and she let out a groan in exasperation, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. He was avoiding eye contact, looking to the floor, expression cold and distant.

“For fuck sake, Jake, why?! Can you just, just be straight with me. Because I’m confused.”

“We need to end this. It’s over.” She felt tears prick her eyes, anger replacing the nerves.

“But why?! WHY, Jake, this is ridiculous!” She took his cheeks in her hand and forced his eyes to look into hers. She wanted to break his exterior, wanted him to tell her the truth, or admit it was all a joke. But he held her eyes this time, not looking away when he said:

“It has to be like this. I’m sorry.” Y/N scoffed.

“No…” and she felt the anger coming out. “No! This is pathetic.” And she began hitting his chest, not hard enough to hurt, not even slightly, but he felt each blow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Lo siento…”

“You- fuck- can’t do this to me. You can’t!” She carried on hitting his chest until she felt weak, and suddenly, someone was gently grabbing her wrists.

“Y/N/N…” She felt a sob wrack her body and stopped, falling into Steven’s chest. He almost reluctantly comforted her, a hand stroking her back as she cried.

“What’s happening, Steven?” The hurt in her voice was unbearable. He felt tears fill his eyes as he lightly took her shoulders and urged her away, so she was facing him. “Please.” The word came out as a broken whisper and Steven swore it was the worst sound he’d ever had to endure.

“Listen, love, I mean, Y/N…” her name felt weird coming from his lips, ones which usually graced her with pet names and terms of endearment. “I know this is hard to hear, trust me, but we, us, well, we decided we need to-”

“Not you, too. Please, Steven, you cant possibly want this.” He didn’t. None of them did. But alas, it had to be done.

“I-”

“Give me one good reason. I swear, Steven, this isn’t fair and if there isn’t a reason then I’m not leaving.”

“T-there is.”

“Tell me.”

He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say what he knew needed to be said. Which they all agreed needed to be said for her to leave. She needed to leave. It was the only way they could keep her safe.

“It’s just, things happen, don’t they? Just life, innit?”

“That isn’t good enough, for fuck sake! You know that! Give me a reason-”

“I want too-”

“Cause this isn’t right-”

“Bloody hell-”

“Just fucking explain why your all-”

“Because we don’t love you anymore!”

And it was then the world shattered. Everything seemed to explode, fall out of place, everything but those words. Steven was breathing heavily, face red. She looked at him, a heaviness behind her eyes as she realised he must be serious. And then she was leaving, not even grabbing a jacket, just going out in the cold, London air, but she didn’t even feel it. She hardly felt a thing.

She once enjoyed the comfort of the Steakhouse. It was where she first met Steven, actually. He was smartly dressed, eagerly awaiting his date. But after a few times returning to take his order, it was clear that his date wasn’t going to arrive. She felt sad for the man, and when he did order, she offered to sit with him.

From there, Steven Grant fell madly in love for the girl who sat with him when he was sad.

And it wasn’t long before Marc and Jake fell too.

Sad, now, that the place full of memories, and where she worked every day, was tinted with sorrow and heartbreak.

“Alright, Y/N, your on-table service, Maya, you’re on till.” Y/N looked over to her co-worker who cocked an eyebrow before the drilling shift began. The first couple hours went by smoothly, normally, as Y/N took many orders of many couples, families, friends. She had the same smile plastered on her face- even to the particularly rude regulars who she always vented about after her shift, normally to her boyfriends… no, don’t think about them.

It was towards the end of the night when the restaurant got gradually less busy. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief as she noted it was nearly closing time. She couldn’t wait to get back to… her friend’s flat, where she was currently residing until she found something more permanent. It didn’t feel like home, far from it, and it made nowhere in her life feel safe.

“Table 4 is ready. Warning, Y/N/N, it’s a couple. Looks like a first date.”

“Ugh, great. Just what I need.” She replied sarcastically, and Maya gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Want me to do it?” Y/N sighed and shook her head, offering a smile in return.

“I’ll be fine. You, go, before John kills us both.” The pair laughed before Y/N adjusted the apron on her waist and got her notebook for orders. The table was outside, candlelight reflecting the stars in the nightfall. It was perfect for a date, a romantic nostalgia settling comfortingly around the area. Each table was like a small circle of the world, just for whoever was sat there.

She remembered when she was there, in her own corner of the world with the ones she loved most.

She had to shake her head of the thoughts, reminding herself that it was, in fact, over.

The London air was chilly, and she stayed in the doorway for a brief moment before going outside. She saw the table she was to tend to, and prepared her brief interaction as she always did, making her way to the table.

The first person she noted was a woman, hair long, fingers tapping against the surface of the table. Her voice couldn’t be heard from this distance, the buzz of the city drowning out any words that weren’t in direct distance for. The next person was facing away from the door, face out of view. They were sporting a head of dark, curly hair, but it was morphing with the dark, and Y/N couldn’t observe much else.

She reached the table, eyes still down on her notepad, preparing for her normal line: “Good evening, what can I get for you both tod-” But when she looked up, her world stopped. The buzz of London was a mere silence now as her eyes were locked with ones she knew so well for so long. That had left her not so long ago now.

Steven.

She knew it was him. she could tell by the slight widening of his eyes, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She could tell by the way his mouth was slightly agape, searching for words he wouldn’t be able to find in the vast swirl of his mind, and 2 others, no doubt.

Y/N almost forgot where she was until a small cough brought her crashing down to reality. “Excuse me, miss? You sort of trailed off there.” A posh British accent broke the air, and Y/N turned her attention to the woman Steven was with.

“Oh!” Too enthusiastic. Y/N flinched at herself, starting again. “My apologies. I must have lost my train of thought. Um, oh right! What can I get you today, both of you?”

“Let’s start with a bottle of red, then I’ll have rare with a side of mash.” Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the fact they were there. When she had scribbled it down, she attempted to act normal when turning to Steven.

“And you… sir?” He tore his eyes away from the depths of the table to look into her eyes. He tried to form a coherent sentence but instead settled on the words:

“Yeah, I’ll, um, have the same.” Y/N just nodded, muttering her usual ending line of ‘be with your shortly’ before practically running from the table. Her heart felt heavy, and tears filled her eyes as she quickly slipped into the staff area to catch her breath.

Seeing Steven with someone else? That hurt. They had moved on. Truly. And she was stuck in limbo. Her heart still belonged to them. She stayed a moment longer before realising she had to pass the order on, wiping her eyes and shaking her head, before exiting to the kitchen. After passing the order on, hardly looking at the pad, she tried to forget what was happening.

But he was out there. Steven, with his adorable smile. Steven, with his sarcasm and jokes that had her crying. Steven, with the loving, doe eyes in pretty much every situation. And beyond him, there was Jake, stern but sweet, passionate but quiet. And there was Marc, the perfect mix of all. They were out there, forgetting about her, relishing in another’s company. And whilst she so desperately wanted to be happy for them, move on and forget, she couldn’t.

There was a time they were her future, and she couldn’t bring herself to make them her past.

The order for ‘table 4’ was shouted twice by the chef, who was unimpressed both times. Y/N apologised, taking the dishes, hearing words like ‘incompetent’ and ‘slow’ as she left- she resisted the urge to throw the dishes at him.

This time, she was ready for the sight at the table, but no more prepared. Now, she felt dread as she saw the familiar curly hair. But, putting it aside, she returned, wondering if Steven had explained the situation to his unsuspecting date.

“I’ve got one steak, rare with mashed potatoes,” she started, putting the dish down in front of the woman, “And one vegan steak with green beans.” She hardly looked as she placed the meal in front of him.

“Vegan? He didn’t say vegan.” Oh. Y/N realised she had ordered Steven’s usual, not what he ordered. Her eyes widened in embarrassment as Steven looked at his meal then back at her.

“Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry, let me get that for-” In her haste, she accidently knocked the wine bottle off the side, and it fell to the floor with a SMASH. “Shit!” Everyone outside instantly turned to the scene, Y/N instantly on the floor trying to pick up the glass as Steven’s date stood up in anger.

“What kind of a place is this?! Wrong order then smashes the wine…” the voice was clouding out as Y/N felt overwhelmed with emotions. She heard the manager step out, trying to calm down the angry customer, who only stopped when he assured her the meal was on the house with a free dessert. She heard her manager’s angry grumble for her to be inside as soon as she finished cleaning up her mess. In the heat of it, she didn’t notice her hand bleeding from a particularly sharp bit of glass. She must’ve looked awful, because hands were suddenly helping her off the ground and escorting her back inside.

“C’mon, love, it’s alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She hardly responded as she was lead into one of the bathrooms and sat on the closed toilet seat. “Let’s hope this doesn’t get infected, eh?” Gentle touches cleaned the wound and it felt so familiar, so safe, that she forgot it was him. Sniffles left her every so often as Steven muttered something every now and then. But apart from that, it was silent.

And then, the touches stopped. And it was done. She looked up to see Steven already staring at her, seemingly analysing every detail of her face. The tiredness in her eyes, the gentle frown on her lips, which he would do anything to kiss. “Why did you come here?” She whispered softly, breaking the silence in the space.

He knew she worked here; they all did. Was it a technique to make her jealous? Was it to flaunt their new love? Was it to cause her pain?

Steven was quiet and he seemed to be battling the others in his head. She noted him looking at his reflection in the mirror longer than he had to before he turned back to her. She was almost surprised to see the overwhelming sadness behind his eyes.

“I needed to see you.” What? She shook her head, getting off the toilet, a moment to fast, wincing as she felt dizziness cloud her for a moment. Steven rushed forward to help her, but she stepped back.

“You were with another woman.”

“I know.” He muttered guiltily.

“You came to our first date spot.”

“Please…”

“You broke up with me, remember? You don’t… didn’t love me anymore.” Steven suddenly shook his head desperately, tears falling freely from his eyes.

“No. Y/N… my darling… no. I c-can’t do this. Take the body, someone.” And then it wasn’t Steven, it was Marc. And the look of sadness morphed into one of regret and a familiar softness that was only reserved for her.

She pushed down the urge to fall into his warmth, deciding instead to further distance herself. “Is your hand okay?” And she groaned in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air.

“It’s fine! But what’s not fine is this. You. Coming here. I’m glad that your moving on but I’m not there yet, okay? I’m trying to be happy for you, all of you, but seeing you is a reminder of what we had, what we lost, and I just…” she tried to stop the flood of emotions, but it was getting harder to contain. “Please, just… go.”

“Marc, we can’t make her go. Not without an explanation.”

“You heard the bird. She isn’t safe with us. She could fucking die Steven, because of us. We have to do this. Jake agrees, don’t you, Lockley?”

Silence followed by a “Si.” Steven was struggling with the idea. Breaking up with you to protect you. Because of what Konshu had said. He couldn’t lose you. but this was losing you and hurting you in the process. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you.

“We all need to be on board. We all need to do it. Cause she won’t accept it; our girl is stubborn.” Marc tried to laugh but it came out as a cough, as if he was choking on fear. Because they all feared it, losing her. But they knew it had to be done.

They all knew the pain of losing her in life was more bearable than the fear of losing her in death.

“I just… I can’t. I love her. Gods, I love her more than bloody anything in this life, and every life.”

“I do, too.”

“And that’s why we have to let her go.” Jake said, sternly and authoritatively. They all knew the risk. And they knew what had to be said.

Steven hardly fronted after it happened, to consumed with sadness and despair. Marc did the daily tasks whilst Jake focused on the rest. Steven had only agreed to go on a date when Marc and Jake deduced to get over someone, you had to get under someone.

It wasn’t working for any of them.

And whilst each handled the break-up in different ways, it all lead on the same destructive path; her. Thoughts of her corrupted every action of every day. Memories of the past. Good ones. But worst were the flashes of her after, the distraught look of desperation and bewilderment on her face when Steven had to say the words ‘we don’t love you anymore.’

It couldn’t have been further from the truth.

With every fibre of their beings, they loved her.  

But Steven couldn’t resist when he saw the Steakhouse where he had met her, saw the place his love originated. He needed to see her. Needed to see that she was okay, better without them. What he didn’t expect was her getting hurt. He felt like it was an omen, a sign that danger follows him and that they were right to end it. But seeing the pain still etched on her beautiful face, and oh the way she got him his usual order by muscle memory alone... he needed her in his life. Without her, he wasn’t living; simply surviving. Hardly, at that.

So, Marc took control. Saw the way she stood away. Saw the way her eyes avoided his. He didn’t want to leave her, not again. It was hard enough the last time. For all of them. But alas, they were the ones that needed it. So they had to respect her wishes to leave.

“Please.” He just nodded, turning to go to the door, unlocking it. But before he left, he turned around.

“I'm sorry. The last thing I, we, wanted was for you to go.” Y/N suddenly noted something Steven had said.

“Wait... Steven said he didn’t want this. Didn’t want what? What’s this Marc?” Fuck, his name sounded so right coming from her lips. But Marc had to remain strong, so he shrugged. “Your lying. Just tell me the truth. What didn’t he want?”

Marc sighed. Always so stubborn. “Any of it.” Y/N looked around in confusion and was about to respond when Marc said, “I’m sorry again. I’ll go.” And he was leaving. She felt like she had been through a washing machine, head spinning and mouth dry.

Any of it.

What did that even mean?

When she left the bathroom, her manager was waiting for her, followed by a concerned looking Maya. Fuck. In the rush of it all, she forgot about the actual matter at hand. She was only half present as her manager shouted, hearing words like ‘embarrassing’ and ‘unprofessional’ thrown at her. But she was more fixated on other things.

When she was finally dismissed, thanking Maya who offered to do close up, and of course a chat, she made her way home. Home. What even was that? It certainly wasn’t her friends sofa. Nor was it her parents place. There was one place in the world where she felt safest, no matter the circumstances.

And she was stood outside the door now.

She didn’t know what she was going to say as she lifted her (uncut) fist up to the door, ready to knock when the door swung open. It felt like a cliché, the moment in a romance where there’s rain and tears and kissing. But there was none of that. Just a heavy energy between her and the third alter, the other who owned a piece of her broken heart.

Jake.

“Oh.” The sound of disgust left his mouth and Y/N swallowed harshly.

“I need to talk.” Jake didn’t have time to react as she barged past him into the flat. The smell was comforting, hugging her senses, as she took in the stacks of books, the sand, the dirty dishes slowly piling up. It all felt like home. That feeling of utter warmth and safety.

“Mierda." She heard him whisper but she was determined to get answers. “You shouldn’t be here.” She could tell by his tone that he wanted to sound serious, but there was an edge to his voice, one which made her think he didn’t mean what he was saying.

“Well, I am. And I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth.” Jake took off the cap on his head, throwing it to the side, already knowing she was being serious. “Can you give me that?” Jake heard Marc telling him it was a bad idea, that she would break them. Jake was their strongest, the last to fall for her charm- or at least the last to admit it.

“Sí. Fine.”

“So… did you come to my place of work just to see me?”

“No. Well, I didn’t. Steven did. Warned him against it, both of us. But he did anyway. Look where that took us.” Y/N felt her heart drop slightly at that. Maybe he did want her to go, leave forever. But something inside her, something stubborn and persistent, argued that wasn’t the case.

“Okay. Do you all miss me? Or is it just Steven?” Of course, we all miss you, are you insane? We can’t live without you, amor. Fuck.

Jake bit his tongue at the words pouring in his mind, instead opting on a shrug.

“That’s it?” Y/N scoffed. “So, you didn’t, then? You just moved on, like that?” she punctuated her words with a click of her fingers and Jake refrained the urge to groan.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Fuck, Jake! I just… I want closure. I want to know selfishly that I’m not the only one who feels like their fucking dying!” No. he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer if she cried. He couldn’t see that pain again. But there it was, in her trembling lip, her glassy eyes, her furrowed brows. He had to look away.

“Look, maybe you should-”

“No. I still have one more question.” She sniffled, trying to stop the tears from falling, trying to remain strong in front of the men she loved. “When did you stop loving me?” Jake finally turned to look at her, heart dropping when he noted her watery eyes were already on his. He could hear Marc telling him what to say, what to do that would solidify it, keep her safe forever, but even those words were cracked, blurry.

“We…” he was trying to find the words. Trying to find it in himself to lie again. But her eyes… those loving eyes, that were filled with so much ache, a longing he’d never seen before.

I can’t do it. What? Fuck… I can’t do this. Give me the body, then.

But Jake didn’t want to. Didn’t want to send her away, no matter how much he knew he should. “Well? When did you fall out of love? Was it me? Did I do something?”

“Stop.”

“That’s all I need to know. Then, I’ll leave. Forever, this time. If that’s what you want. Is it?” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to remain calm, to stop the compulsion, the absolute need for her taking over. “Why don’t you love me?” Perhaps it was the way her voice broke as she said this, or the way the alters stopped talking for a moment, but suddenly, Jake couldn’t hold back anymore.

He strode forward in a fast motion, and Y/N was about to say something else when his lips were on hers. She hardly needed to adjust as he kissed her with so much built-up passion, she felt dizzy. She hummed in surprise and content, hands fitting on his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as he cupped her face in his hands, feeling every detail he missed so dearly.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed you every day.” His words were followed by his hands. Which were travelling the crevices of her body, making her gasp.

“But you left me… all of you.” It was a sobering reality which made her step away, him following suite. And then Marc was there, eyes instantly shutting in regret. “Why?” and this time, when she asked the question, Marc knew he had to give her an answer.

“Konshu… we made some pretty bad enemies, sweetheart.” She ignored how the name made her heart quite literally swell, “He reminded us of the risk. That they could use you to hurt us. So… we decided that keeping you safe meant you not being with us at all. That way, we can’t get you hurt.” Y/N was in disbelief.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Marc’s head snapped up to look at Y/N, who’s arms were crossed over her chest. “You listened to the bird? And didn’t speak to me first?”

“There was no negotiation. Your safety is first every time.”

“You don’t get to decide that. I could die at any point in any day.” She was walking towards him now which each word, “Yes, there’s a risk being with you. But it’s a risk I would take. Every single time, every single life. I choose you. All of you. I love you all and that’s enough to keep me safe and happy forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Marc was filling the distance now, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just, we couldn’t risk losing you. Love you too much.” And there it was, the words she so desperately craved to hear since the moment Steven retracted them. Y/N looked up at his face, tracing his features with her fingertips; over the bridge of his nose, along the bush of his eyebrows, following the valley of his eyelids, until she cupped his jaw and brought him down for a loving kiss.

Marc’s exterior broke fully as he indulged in the love he had so painfully missed. The love he had to fight to keep away, for the sake of the person who owned his heart. “Can we…” Y/N started, hating that she was pulling away but tired of standing, “lie down for a bit?” Marc smiled, nodding and interlocking their hands.”

"That’s all I want.” But as she pulled him to the bed, he suddenly tugged away. She was surprised, turning to face him, noting how he was faced away from her. His shoulders were hunched slightly, hands in front of his body, fiddling with his fingers anxiously; Steven.

“Hey,” she started, smiling as she saw him there. But something was off. He began shaking his head.

“I can’t.” He whispered. Her heart dropped as she rushed forward, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, but it startled him slightly.

“You… what’s wrong? Steven?”

“Can’t look at you knowing what I did.” Y/N swallowed the growing emotion down in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut briefly.

“It’s okay-”

“No! It isn’t! I-I brought a date to our place. You cut your hand ‘cause of me! Blimey, I told you that we didn’t… love you. Caused you pain, I did, and I cant forgive myself. I won’t! “

“You did what you thought was right. What you all thought was right. And I’m not mad, okay? I just, I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much. Please, Steven, let me see your face.” She felt her heart squeeze as a shuddering sob left his body, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back and finding his hands with her own. “ ‘s okay, Steven, I’m here. I’m safe, we both are, hm?”

And finally, he turned around, practically collapsing into her arms, bringing them both down onto the floor. They were a tangle of limbs, desperate to find the comfort in each other that they had been deprived of. She realised she was crying too, face wet with his tears and her own. “I didn’t mean it, any word of it. My love… Y/N/N. I’m sorry, so sorry. I h-hated myself for what I did. Felt like a git, still do. But I mean this from the deepest bits in my heart: I love you. and I never want to lose you again, alright?”

She just nodded, whispering terms of endearments to him. And they faced each other, Steven analysing every detail of her face so he she would be forever etched in his mind, and Y/N, staring at her future.

And it was as if all the 3 broken pieces of her heart returned in an instant, making her blossom with love and hope. And in that moment, intertwined on the floor with the men she loved most, she had never felt safer.

#moon knight imagine #Moon Knight #moon knight angst #angst #Steven Grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockely #jake lockely x reader #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #jake lockley angst #fem!reader #ff #fanfic #moon knight fanfic

[bibli0thecary]

Tired of Me 

pairing (s): marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

word count: 1.5k

requested by: @reareaikea

warning (s): panic attack, angst, hurt/comfort

moon knight masterlist

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

It all happened too fast. 

An hour ago you were laughing in his arms, letting him wipe your happy tears away. Marc did not consider himself as a funny person, but somehow he always managed to make you laugh at something he said. It was such a blessing to hear your contagious laughter, and he would trade the world if it meant he could see you happy by his side forever. 

But then your phone rang. It was a call from your parents. He could still remember the look in your eyes as you answered the call, uncertain and worried. He would not say that he disliked them, but he did not like them much either, since they always seemed to find a way to hurt your feelings every time they talked to you. 

Now you were no longer in his arms. You were sitting on the floor, legs against your chest as you started to feel lightheaded. Marc did not know what your parents had said to you, but it triggered something in you until it left you trembling in fear.

“Sweetheart, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

His voice was soft, not wanting to scare you even more. His heart sank, as you did not even look up at him. You stared blankly at the wall, cold sweat started to form on your skin. 

Marc knew what was happening. He had never been here with you during your panic attacks. It was always Steven or Jake. Steven knew how to comfort you, providing you with what you needed. Marc always thought Jake as the harshest one among them, but he admitted that Jake knew how to handle this situation better than him. 

“Y/N, look at me.” 

Marc had kneeled down to your level, worry laced in his voice. It pulled on his heartstrings to see tears in your eyes. You were in pain, and he wished he could take it all away from you. 

“Marc..”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He promised, taking one of your hands in his. He would never leave you alone when you were shaking like this, choking up on your own tears. 

“I’m sorry, Marc. I can’t stop this..” 

It crushed his heart when you started apologising, a strangled sob escaped your throat. He shook his head, his own tears started to well up in his eyes. It was so painful to see you like this, and he had been stabbed for so many times in his life. 

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’m here to stay.”

He never let go of your hand, while his other hand went to caress your face gently. He wished it was enough to comfort you and tell you that he was never leaving you. Marc felt a wave of relief washed over him, as you started to calm down a bit, breathing properly. 

“Can you count to ten for me, sweetheart?” 

He learned from Steven, and he hoped he was doing something right. A small smile found its way on his face as you counted to ten, returning to a much calmer state. 

“Can you tell me what day is today?”

“Sunday.”

Marc nodded, smiling as he felt your hand tightened around his. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing stars on your back as you buried your face in his chest. His familiar scent comforted you in a way that you could not explain in words, and you would let him hold you forever if he wanted to. 

“Thank you, Marc. I love you.” 

Your voice was hoarse from crying, but it was the least of his concern. You were safe and sound in his arms. He never wanted you to go through something like this again, but he also knew it was out of your control. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you had forgotten about what had triggered your situation a few minutes ago. Marc did not say it as often as Steven, but you knew he loved you by the way he protected you and took a good care of you. 

“Sunshine, I’m going to carry you to bed. Is that alright?” 

You smiled at the nickname, looking up to find Jake’s worried eyes on you. His gaze softened when his eyes meet yours, and he placed a kiss on your head before carrying you to bed. 

He tucked you in bed, and you loved how he was always so careful around you, treating you like a fragile rose petal when he was careless with everyone else. Pulling you into his arms, he did not say a word, not wanting to make you uncomfortable again when you just managed to calm down. 

You knew he was worried. He loved to see you smile, saying that it warmed up his cold heart, hence the nickname he gave to you. You were his only sunshine, and it killed him to see you in pain when he had no power to help you.

“I’m fine, Jake. Don’t worry.”

You kissed the back of his hand, a small gesture that he had grown to love. It could seem like nothing to other people, but it meant the world to him. Jake shook his head, holding back a smile.

“I will always worry about you.”

He said, tightening his arms around you. You melted in his arms, letting yourself fall asleep, knowing that you were safe and nothing could harm you. But not before you whispered your love for him, not seeing the rosy blush that ran across his cheeks at your words.

“I love you, Jake.” 

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You woke up to find the other side of the bed empty. Getting out of the bed, you heard some noises from the kitchen. You knew your boyfriend would be upset if you did not stay in bed to rest, but you just wanted to see him— No matter who was fronting that morning. 

You smiled when you saw Steven in the kitchen, preparing breakfast while also talking to Marc or Jake, you did not know. It was an adorable sight that you wanted to engrave in your mind forever. 

“Morning, Steven.”

You greeted, chuckling when he turned to look at you, eyes widen in worry. He quickly walked towards you, clearly not liking the fact that you were out of bed. 

“Morning, love. You should be in bed. Breakfast is almost ready and I’ll bring it to you—“ 

You pecked his lips lovingly, grinning when his worried gaze turned into a love dazed one. He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. He wanted to ask you about last night, but he did not want to ruin your morning. However, he was still worried. 

“Are you alright?” 

He started, knowing that you would always find him first to tell him about your problems. It made him feel needed and wanted, but he also did not want to force you. 

“I’m feeling better.”

Steven let out a sigh of relief, his heartbeat quickened as you put your head on his chest. He always wondered how did he get so lucky to have you in his life, but during these moments, he did not care about anything else but you. He wanted you forever, and he was never going to let you go. 

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll be here for you.” 

“Thank you, Steven.”

Both of you stayed that way for awhile, holding each other as if the world was built only for the two of you. You could hear his heart beating in his chest, and it brought a smile upon your face. 

“Will you ever grow tired of me?”

Your question struck him across the heart, and he frowned. He did not know where did you get the idea that he would ever get tired of you, when he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Steven did not want to assume, but he was sure it had something to do with what your parents had said to you last night. 

“No, never! How could I ever grow tired of you? You’re my heart.” 

You could not help but smile at how genuine he sounded, a little bit angry that you would even think that he would get tired of you. You put your hands on his chest, planting a kiss on his cheek to tell him that you believed him. 

“You’re my heart too.”

His face flushed, and he was so in love with you that you could tell him to fall on his knees and he would do it in a split second. Anything for you. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

He said, knowing that you lived for his sweet words. Also, he heard you saying that you loved Marc and Jake last night, and he would be lying to himself if he say that he was not a little bit jealous of them. 

“I love you too, my heart.”

.•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•.

a/n: if you can't tell, I'm struggling to write fluff without inserting angst. this is only my second work of moon knight, I still have so many things to improve so any comments are appreciated. also, my favourite is Steven but I really want to be Jake's little sunshine. 🌻

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant x you #steven grant angst #marc spector imagine