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book-place · 2 years

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To the Moon and Back

Part 2 -> Meet Fatherhood

Warnings: moon knight episode 5 and 6 spoilers!!!, cursing (?), character death, violence, implied child abandonment, weapons, adoption, all Arabic comes from google translate, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x daughter reader, Layla El Faouly x daughter reader, little bit of Steven Grant x reader platonic

Request: I got a platonic mk x reader request!!! How about Marc x avatar reader where the reader was like Marc and Layla's adopted kid from the Philippines where they met during one of Marc's mercenary missions. After Marc left to persue harrow the reader becomes mayari's avatar (goddess of the moon in the Philippines) and reunites with him after joining Layla to Egypt (after much persistince to go). Make it as angsty as you want or not....

(I hope this is what you were looking for! I changed it a bit- sorry. Also, I’m not familiar with Mayari so I did the best I could and did a little bit of research)

Request by: @queenotaku23

*not my gif*

Summary: For the longest time it had just been the three of you, your little family. But then one day changes that forever

A/N: Second Moon Knight request!! Hope you enjoy :)

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

As the shot rang out through the vast room, all you could do was stand frozen in shock and horror as your blood ran colder than the moon.

The sound was deafening, but you could still hear everything. The grunt of a man. The sound of splashing as a body hit the water. The sound of heavy breathing. But above all, your own heartbeat that rang above all the other sounds. Louder. Clearer.

You barely registered as your mothers sobbing form took you into her arms, pulling you to her chest so that she could try and comfort you.

But no tears fell out of your eyes, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Any of it.

Your father couldn’t be dead. Your strong, brave father, Marc Spector.

Or your other father, the kind and gentle one, Steven Grant. The one that you had only met a few days ago, but formed a deep attachment with nonetheless.

How had this happened? Just moments ago you were running through the halls of the tomb, more than certain that you and your family would beat Arthur Harrow to Ammit, then all of you could finally find peace.

Then the next thing you knew, you heard your mothers outraged screaming and then your fathers deep and calm-even in the middle of a crisis, but still partially desperate- voice trying to coax her away from the room.

Then you had run in, just in time for Marc to gently push you towards your mother, telling her to take care of you, barely having time to give you a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before ushering you and Layla out of sight.

He had been so prepared to fight to the death for the two of you. Make sure that you guys got out of there okay, and it ended up being the last thing he would ever do.

It was a battle that he had lost.

Marc had found you eleven years earlier on one of his mercenary missions and back then you were just a young, four year old, child who had no family and nobody to turn to for help.

Without knowing it, you immediately captured the normally cold man’s heart and he took you under his wing right away, giving you a place to stay and food to eat.

That was before Layla had come along, and when she did, you looked up to her almost right away and she quickly began loving you like a daughter.

It wasn’t perfect, but you guys were quick to make a small family of each other. A family that loved one another, no matter what.

It was as if you were watching from a far as Layla gently took you by the shoulders and kissed the crown of your head, trying to silence her soft sobs the best she could.

You just looked up at her with a pale face and wide eyes, mouth dropped slightly open.

Then without warning, or meaning to, you harshly pushed away from her and sprinted to where your father had been standing just a moment before.

Ignoring her whisper shouts for you to come back, you made a beeline to the water right behind the sarcophagus, and when you saw what was there, your knees gave out from underneath you in sheer horror.

Marc’s body lay there, half in, and half out of the water, his eyes closed, and half open mouth still. Not a muscle in his body moved.

A sob escaped your lips for the first time, now that you were looking at him, “Dad,” you shook him a little, as if trying to wake him up, “Come on, dad, please. Dad!”

Your mother quickly came up from behind you and caught you just before you collapsed again, and began shushing you even though she too was crying.

The salty tears streamed down your face, one after another, like an endless waterfall of sorrow.

After a moment, Layla gently tapped your shoulder to let you know that she was going to let go, and moved towards her husband with a shaky figure.

Once she took a long breath, she gently pushed Marc into the water, as if afraid he were made of glass.

Your sobbing continued, but did quiet down a bit when you came to your senses and realized that Harrow was still most likely in one of the mazes of halls somewhere and might still hear you.

You watched as Layla slowly stood up and then helped you up as well, “Come on,” she whispered tearfully, “We have to go.”

You couldn’t even give him a proper funeral.

With that you went back to your barely-registering-anything-state, and allowed your mother to lead you out of the tomb without complaint.

Not a word was passed between either of you as you got into a cab that brought you guys back to your hotel room.

It was only once you got into the room that she finally spoke up, “I’m going to go out for a while, sweetie. I need you to stay here.”

On a normal day, you would’ve fought against her and insisted that you go where she was going. Because on a normal day you would’ve known her, and you would’ve known where she was going. To face Arthur Harrow, alone.

But you didn’t have the energy to think or comprehend what she had said to you as you numbly nodded.

She quickly bent down to your height as you sat on the bed, staring at the floor, and she moved her face so that you were looking at her, “I need you to promise me that you will stay in this room. No matter what.”

Again you just nodded, but when she gave you a slightly stern look, you mumbled, “I promise.”

She seemed to visibly relax when hearing that, “Thank you, sweetie.”

Giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, and grabbing a couple of things, she scurried out of the room, making sure that the door locked behind her.

She was only okay with leaving you alone because she knew that Arthur and his followers would be somewhere looking for Ammit, meaning she could keep them as far away from you as possible.

That and there was plenty of food in the mini fridge for you to last a few days.

You sat in the same spot that she had left you for hours, staring blankly at the spot on the peeling beige colored wall.

Then suddenly, without warning, it was if a gust of wind had just blown through the room at full force and brought a huge dust patch with it, but the widows weren’t even open.

Your wide eyes traveled over to where Khonshu then stood in the place that the dust patch and been, and though you had never actually seen him, you knew enough Egyptology to know who he was.

“Little Spector.” The god greeted.

“What do you want?” Your voice came out hollow, as if you were done with everything and everyone.

“I need your help, you need to become my avatar.” The bird replied, his tone impatient and restless.

You scoffed, “And why would I ever do that?”

“Because the world is in danger.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I think enough Spectors have been taken from the world today because of you and your stupid war.” Anger suddenly replaced that emptiness that you had been feeling all afternoon.

“Your mother is in danger.”

This made you pause where you were, halfway standing up as you were ready to match over and yell at the skeleton looking bird.

He could see that he had gotten you to pause and took that to his advantage, “An avatar is needed so that Ammit and Harrow can be stopped.” He insisted.

“I will not be your avatar.” You made sure to make yourself clear as you made up your mind, “But I will be someone else’s avatar. Anybody else, I don’t care. As long as it’s not you.” You spat out the last word like venom.

Khonshu paused, studying you for a moment, “You are brave, Little Spector… I know the perfect goddess for you to host.”

With that the dust and wind appeared again but gone as soon as it came without a trace, leaving you to wonder if any of that had really just happened.

“Y/n Spector.” A smooth and melodic voice suddenly rang out in your head after a moment, “I am Mayari, goddess of the moon and ruler of the night.”

The name rang a bell to you, when your mother had taught you years ago about Philippine mythology. You were originally from the Philippines before Marc found you, and Layla found it very important to teach you about the culture of where you came from. And you had always really appreciated that.

“Khonshu has informed me of the situation,” she continued, “And if what he says is true, then I need your help just as much as you need mine. So, do you, Y/n Spector, swear to withhold the legacy of the moon, and promise to keep the stars shining bright?”

You hesitated, knowing what being an avatar had done to your father and Steven, but then their cold, dead body flashed through your mind, and your mothers sobbing face, and you hesitated no longer, “I do.”

With that, you felt a wind around you, not a harsh and cold one like when Khonshu had entered the room, but a slow and refreshing one.

It swept around you like you were at the center of a tornado, and when it stopped, you no longer stood in your busted up hiking boots and ratty old t-shirt and jeans.

You then stood in a flowing blue and purple one piece jumpsuit that had a golden sword sheathed at the side of your right leg.

The material against your skin was smooth and durable, which let you know that it would be easy to fight in.

How does it feel?

Mayari’s voice sung through your head, making you jump slightly.

“Uh-g-good… it feels good.” You quickly got over your initial shock when you remembered the reason you were there in the first place.

Good, now let’s not waste anymore time. Shall we?

“Shall we what-“ You cut yourself off with a small yelp as you felt your feet being lifted off the ground, “What the- Hey! What’s happening?” You fumbled around, trying to grab onto something while trying to stay balanced so you didn’t hit your head.

You heard her chuckle a little.

I’m a goddess, flying just so happens to be a perk.

You swallowed hard, “Right, yeah, of course.”

You heard her laugh again before you started moving forward while still in the air.

Now hang on.

-•-

Next thing you knew, you were zooming through the skys, over the city buildings of Cairo on your way to where you could only assume the fight was taking place.

In the distance you saw a very large crocodile and dead looking bird fighting near some pyramids, and you didn’t even have to think to know that it was Ammit and Khonshu, who must’ve tricked some other poor soul into being his avatar for him.

It looked weird enough to you, who knew about avatars and everything, so you could only imagine what it looked like to the rest of the world.

Are you ready for this?

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You mumbled, clearly unsure of yourself.

You’ll do great, and I’ll be here the whole time if you need anything.

You allowed her to bring you closer and closer to the ground until your feet hit the pavement, and you stumbled a little while trying to regain your balance.

Taking a moment, you took in your surroundings to see what you were dealing with.

People where running around in complete chaos, with windows broken, cars flipped, and buildings on fire.

You saw a flash of purple out of the corner of your eye and quickly whipped around to see Aurthur pointing his staff at a mother, father, and daughter who all sat huddled in a bunch.

The parents were obviously trying to shield the screaming child from whatever the strange man was about to do to them while gripping onto each other tightly for comfort.

It was as if your brain switched off and was replaced with that of a warrior, which you later knew you could thank Mayari for.

You quickly unsheathed your sword and sprinted over to the group as fast as your feet would carry you, before jumping right in front of them just in time for Harrow to shoot out a beam of violet light.

His eyes widened in surprise as your golden sword caught the blast midair and sent it right back at him, sending him flying backwards a few feet before his head hit the pavement.

Only partially listening to Mayari’s words of praise, you turned back to the family after reshething your sword, “هل أنتم بخير؟” You asked hurriedly.

(Are you all okay?)

“أنت بطل خارقة!”

(You’re a superhero)

The little girl gasped in awe, staring at you with wide and adoring eyes, and all you could do was smile at her softly.

You took the next moment to reassure the parents that everything was fine as they sobbed and thanked you over and over again.

Once you saw them hurry away, you turned back to the spot Harrow was in, only to find him and his staff gone.

You cursed quietly before running through the streets, helping people along the way, and listening to your goddesses advice whenever she had any words of wisdom.

Just as you were helping an old lady out of a car, you heard your name being called in disbelief above all the other noises that the city had to offer that night.

You whipped around and froze in your place, suddenly feeling like you were back in that tomb.

Marc Spector pushed his way through the crowds as he came running as fast as he could towards you.

I thought Khonshu said he was dead?

You ignored Mayari’s curious voice, unable to comprehend it or anything else other than your father at that moment.

“D-dad?” You whispered out in disbelief.

“Oh, honey.” You could hear the relief in his voice as he quickly pulled you into his chest.

You gripped the back of his suit tightly, as if afraid if you let go then he would disappear once again.

For a long moment, the two of you rocked back and forth, him comforting you lovingly as you sobbed into his chest.

“The bullets- I saw- you were-“ you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

He shushed you once again, “It’s okay, I’ll explain everything later. I promise.”

You were grateful that Mayari gave you two a moment together without her interrupting you or your father.

Gently, he pulled away but still held onto your shoulders, keeping you at arms distance as he studied you and your outfit, “What is this?”

You could tell by the way his eyes flooded with panic and horror that he already knew the answer, though.

“Dad-“

“No, no, no.” Marc shook his head in disbelief, dropping it down in defeat, “First your mother, and now you.”

You felt your heart drop, “Mom?”

He nodded painfully, “Layla became an avatar for Taweret.”

Before you could question him further though, his suit quickly changed into a very different one. One that you knew to be Stevens outfit.

“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you’re Mayari’s avatar!” He gushed, “That’s so bloody cool! Oh poor old Marc had no idea who’s avatar you were, but I could tell from one glance that-“

He was cut off by you throwing yourself into his arms, “I’m so glad you’re okay, too.” You whispered into his ear.

After a moment, the two of you pulled away at the sound of the screaming of your name from nearby.

You and Steven both turned to see Layla angrily stomping towards the two of you, wearing an outfit you can only assume Taweret gave her.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Steven said, “You can handle this one, mate.”

And with that, his suit disappeared and was quickly replaced by Marc’s, “What- no, Steven! Hey!” He stuttered out, quickly stopping at his wife’s deadly glare.

“What are you doing here?” She seethed, glaring down at you, “You promised to stay in the hotel room! And what are you wear-“

She cut herself off with wide eyes, realizing what was happening.

“Oh no, honey. Why would you do that?” Her voice had softened slightly and she was referring to you becoming an avatar.

“You needed help.” You mumbled, looking at the ground with slight guilt, “If it makes you feel any better, it’s the goddess-“

“Mayari.” She finished in awe, “The one I used to tell you stories about.”

Aww, you used to listen to stories about little old me?

Your goddess teased you playfully.

Marc on the other hand, huffed and crossed his arms, “Why did everybody know who it was right away, but me?”

Before any of you could respond, you were all cut off with a shout coming from a couple feet away from all of you.

You all whipped around to see one of Arthur's followers charging at you with a gun, and Layla immediately pushed you behind her and put her wrists up, deflecting all of the bullets with her cuffs.

Marc then took action and quickly ran out from behind her and kicked the man in the face, making him drop to the ground.

Then Ammit’s followers were all around you.

All three of you fought back, trying your best to defend one another while trying to stay alive.

You unsheathed your sword and quickly got to work fending off the woman nearest to you while Mayari gave you helpful tips.

You noticed with glee that your parents both glanced at you every now and then in pride at seeing you handle your own.

But there were only three of you. Avatars or not.

You were all quickly outnumbered, and next thing you knew you were backed up against a wall, fighting the best you still could in your situation.

You glanced to the side to see your mother pinned up against a side of a car while your father glanced worriedly at the two of you and Aurthur was shouting something you couldn’t hear at him.

You knew they could handle themselves so you focused back on your own fight and after a few minute struggle, they were all down and you were no longer surrounded.

Turning back to see if your parents needed help, your eyes widened in shock at what you saw.

There were bodies of Harrow and Ammits followers scattered all over the place, and your parents stood above them looking around in confusion.

“That wasn’t you, Steven?” You heard your father ask in slight horror, but you knew he didn’t even have to ask. Of course it wasn’t kind, lovable Steven.

“Dad?” You called out hesitantly.

He quickly turned to face you, scanning you for any injuries, “Yeah?”

“What the hell was that?” Layla voiced your thoughts.

“I-I don’t know.” He admitted, “I blacked out.” He glanced between the two of you, “Are you two okay?”

You both nodded and he sighed in relief. And though you were all in the middle of the biggest fight of your lives, you all couldn’t help but be grateful.

Because you had each other, your little family. Just like it always had been.

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damn-stark · 2 years

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Moon star

Coming soon….

Marc Spector x Daughter!reader

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moiravim · 1 year

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Are you gonna make a part 2 for Moon Dad meets y/n? I would like to see Marc's first meet up.

Moon dad's part 2.

Summary: what it's like living with Steven and Marc as your father figure<3

It has been a month since you moved in with Steven. By now you had been introduced to Marc and had gotten an explanation on who Khonshu is. Marc had immediately grown a soft spot for you.

It was nice being around someone who accepted you and could relate to you.

They had treated you like you were their own child and you were forever thankful. Even Khonshu had a soft spot towards you. Although he often gave you bad and dangerous advice so Marc told you to ignore him.

They knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you, so they didn't mind if you spent time with Khonshu as long as you weren't doing anything dangerous.

You finish the chapter of the book Steven had given you before placing in the bookmark and standing up.

You walked into the kitchen where Steven was preparing breakfast and asked; "do you need any help?". He smiled at you before shaking his head no and responding; "I'm almost done, love. How about you go sit at the table?"

You nod and he smiles lovingly at you. You go to the table and sit down in your favorite spot. It was facing the window so you could look out as you eat.

Khonshu appears and you casually look up at him. The first few times it was scary, but by now you enjoyed his presence.

"What are you doing?" He questions you as you stare out the window. You roll your eyes at his nosiness and respond; "I'm just watching people. Dad's almost done making breakfast..."

"Dad?" He asks. You cringe at the realization and try to play it off. "Dad? I said Steven..." Khonshu lets out a sound that almost sounds like a laugh before disappearing again.

Steven walks up with a plate of breakfast prepared for you. You smile as you grab your fork and taste the food.

He laughs as he looks at your exited face. You loved when Steven and Marc spent time with you and it made them feel bad for you.

It broke Marc's heart to see how happy little things meant to you. It made him overthink a lot about your childhood and made him hate your parents even more.

Steven sat in the seat across from you and started eating his own food. When you finished eating Steven said you could go to your room or watch TV but you responded that you'd rather stay there.

When he finished eating he told you that; "I have something planned. I was hoping that the we could go to the book store today. I just finished my book and it looks like your almost done with yours".

Your face becomes happier and you nod. He leaves the table to go get everything he needs and then goes to put his shoes on.

You quickly tie your shoes before standing up and walking to the door. "Hurry up!" You complain as Steven lets out a small laugh. He finishes putting on his shoes and opens the front door.

He holds your hand as the two of you walk around the large town. When you arrive at the library, Steven lets you look around while he picks out a book for himself.

By the end of the day you and Steven are both satisfied and spend the afternoon reading together. Marc fronts and the two of you lay down on the couch and watch television together until you fell asleep.

Marc carries you back to your bed and tucks you in before leaving a kiss on your forehead. He grabs your favorite stuffed animal which had fallen onto the floor and lays it down next to you.

He leaves the room and quietly closes the door before going to help Khonshu as moon knight.

A/N: should I do a part 3 where YN meets Jake? And maybe YN gets adopted? If you all have any other ideas, lmk 🥰🥰🫶

#marvel x reader #marvel #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight daughter #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x teen!reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #marvel x gender neutral reader #marvel x yn #marvel x platonic reader #marvel x teen!reader

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positivelyholland · 2 years

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Omg! Imagine Jake, Marc and Steven finding out that their daughter got a boyfriend and sneaking out late at night to meet him and stuff. Who do you think would be the most upset? (I’m HC’ing Jake to be the most pissed off lmao)

tysm for ur request!

Jake

he would find out as he hears the window open and someone falling through it

he immediately thinks his house his being invaded

so he runs up to the room so fast

but when he sees its just his daughter sneaking back into her room

oh hes pissed

jake being jake, he pressures her into telling him where she was

and when she finallt caved in and told him about her boyfriend

he'd be extremely upset but not rly at her

it'd more like

who has the audacity to go near MY daughter

and honestly might try to break them up

because he may seem like this tough guy

but he has a MAJOR soft spot for his daughter

but wish the kid luck on the day they meet because he'll sure need it

Marc

he would find out in a similar way to how jake did

he would be pissed that she didnt tell him but i think he understands why

he would immediately wanna meet the kid before he makes any judgements

i think he would be super protective though

like not even in a bad way but he just genuinely wants the best for her

also she definitely forces her dad to have a daddy-daughter day after he finds out to ensure that he knows she's still his

because we know that marc would feel like hes losing his baby girl

and he wouldnt say it out loud but his daughter just knows

but i think he'd warm up to the idea pretty quickly

Steven

awwww he'd be heartbroken that his daughter didn't wanna tell him

i also feel like he'd be more upset at the fact that theyd been sneaking around

because they could've just told him and make everyone's lives easier

but if he likes the guy he'd be so supportive of the whole relationship

in general he'd just be so supportive but wouldnt hesitate to destroy the kid if he hurts her

#steven grant x daughter!reader #marc spector x daughter!reader #jake lockely x daughter!reader #marc spector x teen!reader #moon knight x daughter!reader #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x teen!reader #positively holland #sophie answers ⚡️#positivelyholland's concepts

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sadlyghost · 2 years

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platonic marc and steven from moon knight with daughter reader (but gender neutral reader please) where the reader is a teen and comes home drunk or stoned or smth and marc and steven take care of them. maybe the reader forces the boys to dance with them befoŕe they sleep? up to you, thank you!

Summary: After drinking alcohol for the first time at a party, you quickly regret it. Luckily your dads are there to take care of you.

Pairing: Steven Grant / Marc Spector x (platonic) Teen Daughter Reader

Words: 1500

Content Warnings: Alcohol, minor panic, being drunk, slight peer pressure.

Gif Caption - "Hopefully you'll be feeling better soon"

You had been invited to a party by some students from a higher grade at your school. You had hesitated in accepting the offer because only one of your friends were going, but you had ultimately decided that this was an opportunity that you didn't want to miss. You couldn't imagine yourself getting invited to any more of these 'cool people' parties, so you wanted to experience it at least once.

However, that didn't seem to of been a good idea, considering that you were currently awkwardly standing at said party, all alone, yet surrounded by people you'd never spoken to before. The one other friend you had gone with had spontaneously decided to speak to some other people, which left you at a loss of what to do.

Some older students had spotted you just hanging around and walked over, chuckling in amusement as they handed you a red cup.

"Uhhh thanks?" you say in confusion as you grab it, sniffing the liquid and wondering why the older students were even talking to you.

"Try some, you'll have more fun if you do. We don't want people moping around, its ruining the vibe" they explain. You swish the liquid around, inspecting it.

"What is it?" you ask softly. They all chuckle to eachother.

"It's alcohol. Vodka and juice, all the people here are drinking it. Have you never had alcohol before?" they explain and inquire. You shake your head in embarassment. They just laugh, patting your head jokingly, making you feel small and immature.

"You'll have lots of fun tonight then. That'll be enough to get you drunk super quick" they say as they walk off.

You spent a while assesing all of your options and considering trying the drink they gave you. You weren't lying, you had never had alcohol before and you definitely weren't planning on it tonight. But everyone else was drinking this, and they all looked like they were having fun. You're friend had ditched you and you didn't know what else to do but mope around until your dads picked you up.

You ended up deciding to give it a try. It couldn't be that bad right?

Turns out that small amount of alcohol could get you more drunk then you had prepared for. Instead of all the other students who were embracing being drunk and having fun, you stood in the corner, wide eyed as you stared out at the room. You didn't want to move. Your body felt like honey, like if you took a step you'd just collapse onto the ground. It was freaking you out to be honest. This was not what you had planned for at all. Alcohol was supposed to make you have fun, not make you scared.

You tried to call your dads to pick you up, but your vision was so blurry and your brain was so unfoccussed that you could hardly navigate your own phone.

You decided that leaving was what you needed to do. You had made a mistake by drinking that and you just wanted to go home. There was absolutely no point in you staying after your friend had ditched you.

Luckily there was a bus stop just down the street, so afer stumbling there, waiting and practically pulling your body on the bus, you were on your way home.

You somehow made your way back to your apartment and shakily walked in, feeling spacey and tired. Steven, who was cooking dinner in the kitchen moved his head to see you at the door.

"Y/n? You're back already? I thought we were going to pick you up in an hour or so" he voices as he pulls off his oven mits. Steven walks over to you and frowns at your slightly distant eyes.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks in concern. You look up to him and gulp, you didn't want to tell him what happened, but was hiding it even an option?

"I dran' alcohol" you slur out without thinking it through enough. You frown at your pronunciation. Why couldn't you say it properly? Steven looks down at you kind of shocked. He hadn't expected something like this tonight.

"You...drank alcohol?" he repeats back to you clearly. You just nod, your head feeling heavier by the minute. He looks you over, inspecting your eyes and your body language

"Do you know what type and how much?" he asks. You shrug.

"The vodka stuff and I don' remember how much" you inform him openly, currently having no filter at all.

His stance changes slightly as he crosses his arms and looks down at you, your brain is too spacey to notice.

"What were you thinking?" Marc asks, voice sterner than Stevens.

"I though' alcohol wa' supposed to be fun" you say honestly. Marc just shakes his head at that.

"Only sometimes. But you shouldn't be drinking at this age and you definitely shouldn't be drinking at parties full of students older than you. Who knows what they could do" he grumbles seriously. You just sway in your spot slightly as you almost dose off.

"Woah, woah. You alright there?" Steven says as he puts his arms on your shoulders. You just mumble something incoherent in reply.

"Okay, lets get you to the couch why don't we?" he says as he leads you to sit down. He goes off to grab some water and a damp cloth which he places on your forehead. You just stare at the ceiling as he takes care of you.

"I'm going to murder whoever pressured them into this" Marc says to Steven.

"It might have been a choice as well. Regardless, save the lecture for tomorrow please. Spend tonight considering what you were like at that age - curious and eager to fit in I'd guess?" Steven reasons quietly, you not even paying attention to his words at the moment. Marc grumbles but doesn't say anything, letting Steven know that he was indeed right.

"But they're too young for this" Marc pipes in again. Steven nods in agreement.

"I know. But I'm sure this incident has given them perspective don't you think? I don't assume we'll be dealing with this again any time soon. They have to learn some way, lets just hope they understand now" Steven says. You just squirm on the couch, feeling uncomfortable.

"Do you need anything?" Steven asks you kindly. You sit up and look around. Everything still felt so unreal to you, so you just flop back down onto Steven. He catches you, feeling suprised.

You just lay there before you start playing with his shirt. It felt so soft and nice. You moved your head back a bit to look at the fabric with wide eyes. Steven watches, wondering what you were doing.

"You're sooo soft pa" you say in shock. Steven holds back his laugh at your words and what seemed to be amazement at the simple fabric of his shirt.

"Oh my god, they are so drunk" Marc comments, forcing a voice of dissaproval as he also hides the amusment in his voice.

You stand up and pull Steven with you. You hold his arms weakly and begin swinging them around. He just goes along with it.

"What are you doing?" he asks curiously, still slightly amused by your drunk actions.

"Dancey danceyy" you laugh as you imitate some tap dancing, very badly. Steven had to make sure you didn't fall since your balance was currently non-existent. At least your mood had gone up though.

"Dad come dance wit' mee" you say, still swinging your arms about and humming some random tune.

Marc fronts and goes along with it as well.

"Did you guys take dance classes? This is soo unfairrr" you complain, a little discouraged that your body isn't moving like you want it to.

"I think you're just a little out of it" Marc says truthfully. You continue trying to dance though, regardless of your horrible moves.

"Daa dun ta daa" you sing to yourself as you bust another horrible move. Marc snorts softly.

"Wow, maybe we do need to get you some dance classes, this is truely something" he says in amusement. But you were vibing, so it didn't matter in the moment how good you were at dancing.

Eventually you slowed down though, and your dancing came to a halt. You just leaned forward onto Marc.

"'m sleepy" you mumbled. He patted your back softly and nodded.

"Okay, lets get you to bed" he said, acting like he did when you were much younger and he actually did need to put you in bed like this. You just complied as he picked you up and carried you to your room.

He lay down your sleepy body and placed the blankets over you. He then sat on the end of your bed and waited for you to fall asleep so that he was sure you were okay.

"Thanks dad..." you whispered out tiredly. Marc just looked at you as you rolled over to get comfortable, eyes already half closed as you dozed off.

"And thanks pa" you thank Steven as well. Marc sighs. You made a mistake, but you were going to be just fine, he was sure of it.

"Your welcome kid" he replies softly.

~~~

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this turned out close to what you imagined. I did try adding some context to the situation, so sorry if that ruins this! Also fun fact, I've never actually been drunk before, even though I'm legally allowed to in my country. So sorry if this is wildly inaccurate! I'm mostly going off what I've seen in movies and stuff. To anyone reading, please don't take a drink from someone, especially if you don't know whats in it. And try not to succumb to peer pressure, you have control over yourself and your own life. Stay safe everyone :)

263 notes · View notes

cas-kingdom · 2 years

Text

The Prelude

A/N: My first Moon Knight fic! I decided against changing my OC’s pronouns to fit the reader-style stories I usually write, just because I think her character is so complex and ready to be built-upon that it wouldn’t make sense. Hope you enjoy all the same! <3

This is set only a little while before the show. I’m not entirely pleased with it, but I’ve been slow on writing this year so I’m hoping the lacklustre is temporary lol.

Title: The Prelude

Summary: Marc’s only constant in the past couple years has been an orphaned fourteen-year-old who lives in a London children’s home. And who keeps escaping. With Khonshu as his shadow and the barrier between himself and Steven breaking down, Marc is called to her once again at a time she needs him, and he needs her, most.

Words: 4544

She didn’t like hamburgers. Once, she’d seen a vegan TV advert play before a YouTube clip in pre-school, and she’d come home professing that she would never touch meat again. Her parents had listened intently and, as per her toddler-babbled instructions, hadn’t put ham in her sandwiches for the rest of the week. It was very probable that they’d secretly ascertained from the first moment that it wouldn’t stick for long.

True to her parents’ inclinations, she’d nonchalantly asked for one of her dad’s breakfast sausages a week later, as though her announcement and the week-long mission had been a farce. Not that any of this lived in the reason she hated hamburgers.

No. She hated them because they existed in the last meal she could remember enjoying. Hamburgers and French fries with ice-cream for dessert. A small, round table with paper plates and cutlery, housing the sound of laughter and the rattling of cheap board games for hours into the evening. Their rare Friday night treat when her dad didn’t have to work at the bar.

Now, as she took the burger from the vendor, the scent of the warm bread and meat fuelling the growling of her stomach, she tried to push past the hatred. Every street food vendor she’d passed before this one had been too much for the pitiful few coins in her pocket. It had only been her shit luck that the cheapest sold hamburgers. They didn’t even have fries.

She mumbled a thank you before reaching into her pocket with her free hand. She closed it around her coins and frowned when she felt fewer than she’d thought she had. Pulling them out, she wondered how long she’d last before the inevitable. Maybe she’d be resorted to begging. She could turn her hoodie over and find a tossed-out piece of cardboard, and possibly a pen…scribble the words “HOMELESS ORPHAN IN NEED OF MONEY” on the—

“On me.”

A tall figure suddenly stepped in front of her and handed a note to the vendor. “Two-fifty, right?” he asked. Though she could see little more than his back, her stomach swirled with both absolute joy and absolute bitterness at the familiarity of his voice.

“Three pounds if you get a drink too,” the vendor replied, his London accent a stark contrast to the other’s American lilt.

“I’ll grab a water then. Keep the change.”

The vendor gave him a bottle and took the money. The figure turned, unscrewing the cap while he fixed the girl with a steady, undefinable gaze. She, in an attempt to remain undeterred, though she was really anything but, took a bite of her burger. It tasted like regret.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Marc Spector said finally. Amusement was infused in his tone, but the girl felt anything but.

She squinted her eyes at him, attempting to look resolute. Though a part of her was undeniably happy to see him, she also knew that him being here meant unwanted consequences.

“I have money,” she told him, “I wasn’t gonna steal it.”

“Yeah?” Marc rose an eyebrow as he drank from the bottle. He handed it to her after, perhaps thinking she may not have drank anything recently. She hadn’t. “Didn’t say you would, kid.”

At his words, the girl’s questioning gaze immediately turned steely, and she ignored his hand and turned away from him. “I don’t like when you call me that,” she spoke stiffly as she walked in the opposite direction, her steps quick. Despite her gritty response, and the itch in the back of her mind which reminded her that if he was here, she wouldn’t be here much longer, she silently hoped she’d hear his footsteps coming after her.

Taking another bite of her burger—which was unappetisingly dry—she focused on the crowds of people she was skilfully weaving through, tugging her hood over her head. In half a moment, she heard him behind her, his voice accompanying those wished-for footsteps.

“Okay, I’m sorry—" Marc apologised, slowing down once he reached her side. “You’re right, Emory.”

Emory twisted her face in contemplation as she turned to stare up at him. There was a lot she wanted to say, “where have you been?” certainly not coming in last, but she knew her current situation prioritised anything else. With a deep breath, she faced ahead once more, choosing her words. “Did Jeremy call you?”

“Not yet, but we both know he will.” They were quiet for a moment, still in step with each other, the sound of the city easily filling the silence. Then, Marc turned to her again. “How long have you been gone this time?”

Emory rolled her eyes, hating that that even lived in the vicinity of plausible questions. “I left this morning, before the sun came up. Are you in London to see me?” She didn’t ask him with as much hopefulness as she perhaps felt, any inclination of such a feeling disguised only by another mouthful of dry burger, but she knew that any answer other than what she hoped for would spoil her already distasteful mood.

Marc took longer than he should have to respond, seeming to ponder over a question that should have been simple. Emory noticed. She was perceptive. “I…am,” Marc said, hesitantly yet definitively enough to drown the former out, “‘course I am.” He smiled then, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders, and pulling her against his side as they walked. “It’s been a few months, huh? I just...saw you at the burger stand on my way, thought to myself: ‘right, here we go again’, and—”

“Marc.” Emory slunk from his grasp, rolling her shoulders back. Despite the annoyance in her tone, there was a sliver of a smile on her lips, and Marc did not fail to clock it. He never did. He counted it as a small victory among multiple failures he’d been entirely responsible for over the two years he’d known Emory Sullivan.

“What? You know it’s true.” His smile softened as his eyes fell on her again, all too familiar with her body language. For a fourteen-year-old, she bore weights she should never have needed to lift. This time, as she walked with intent in her steps, she looked tired. It made his heart clench.

“How’re you doing, buddy?” he asked, gentler this time. He slowed his pace and she subconsciously matched it. For a moment, the buzz of midday London on a Saturday died down, and it was the two of them, walking synchronously in their own little world they’d created together some undetermined time ago. Emory stopped chewing, and her face paled slightly, wisps of hair escaping from under her hood. She reached up to rub at her eyes, and Marc opened his mouth to speak, perhaps an attempt at reassurance. She beat him to it.

“Well,” she started, clearing her throat, “considering I’m here…” She cautiously glanced up at him with a shrug and an inkling of a forced smile.

Marc pressed his lips together and nodded in understanding. “Not great,” he determined, speaking for himself as much as for her. He edged slightly closer to her, a comfort he hoped she’d appreciate. “What happened this time? You wanna tell me before Jeremy does?”

Emory sniffed and rubbed at her eyes again, but she wasn’t quick to respond. Marc had experienced many a moment like this, though usually he’d receive the phone call first. Something along the lines of: ‘Hi, Marc, it’s Jeremy again. Em’s gone AWOL. Again. I’m sorry to ask but do you think you can help?’ It didn’t matter where he was at the time. He’d been in Greece once, Australia another...but somehow, he always managed to get himself to London and to Emory. He could thank a particular entity for that.

The first time he’d received the call had been different, of course. He’d only met Emory twice: once in a dank alleyway behind an Italian restaurant, and the second at the children’s home, when he’d visited a day later to ensure she was okay. When Jeremy had called him a week after that, explaining that Emory had run from the home, Marc had had no reason to help him find her other than some self-inflicting urge in the pit of his stomach telling him to. So, he had. And the next time the call came through. And the next time. And the next. This time made six, if he was remembering correctly. All in the space of twenty months. And a half.

She was a spitfire for sure. Every time he’d find her—because he always knew where to find her—he’d spend some time with her before he took her back to the home. There was rarely a reason she left, other than for an escape, which he could understand completely. He knew she felt trapped in the home, like she didn’t belong, like she deserved to be somewhere entirely different…yeah. He understood well. This time, however, he knew there was something else banging around inside her little head. She’d taken more money this time, and a rucksack hung from one shoulder. She’d been planning an escape, alright.

He ducked his head a little in an attempt to catch her face and gauge some reaction. Emory turned her head away, and Marc frowned. “You know I can’t help you if you don’t help me first,” he reminded her.

Emory took a moment to respond, her tough exterior obviously warring with the inner ache for comfort. His comfort. Finally, after a great deal of chewed cheeks on her part, and an even greater deal of patience on Marc’s, she sighed in defeat, her entire body loosening. “Someone wants to adopt me,” she muttered, just loud enough above the noise of the city.

Marc’s brows shot up in what could only be shock and he turned his face away, his eyes latching onto a woman’s bobble hat in front of him. He sucked in a deep breath and breathed out, adding a: “Right” somewhere mixed in.

Emory picked at her bread, her steps slowing even more. “That wasn’t my reaction.”

A deep frown cloaked Marc’s visible surprise. It definitely hadn’t been what he’d expected. She’d fought with kids over a slice of pizza before, kicked a guy in the chest because he’d taken her book…those situations he could deal with. He was a mercenary. This he could not. And not simply because it had obviously been a shock to her system, but it was so very clear that it was a shock to his, too. Emory fought emotions. She’d told him the first time about her reasoning for leaving, about the unbearable feeling of being cooped up and controlled by people who weren’t her family. She’d even told him about her parents once, the car crash and the events which had followed. She was a tough kid—girl—and apart from the details of her escapades and the facts of her life before the home, she preferred to keep her feelings bottled up. He could understand that—he was it. He’d had to grow up quickly too. But that hadn’t helped him in the slightest.

As they passed a bench, he jumped to attention. “Hey, let’s sit down,” he called out. “Over here.” Emory stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Her brows drew together in clear aversion to his idea. He schooled his features and dipped his head, fostering a firmer gaze in the hope she’d listen to him. “C’mon, Em,” he encouraged gently, sitting down and patting the space next to him. “Just sit down. Please.”

She looked at him for a moment, sucking intently at her bottom lip, then relented with a long exhale. She took slow steps towards the bench and sat beside him, dropping her shabby rucksack to the floor and scooting back until her feet hovered above the ground. The bench overlooked the Thames, and Emory watched the water ripple below for a moment. Marc said nothing, either deciding on his next move or giving her space before she felt she could talk. Maybe both. Either way, she didn’t feel like she could talk at all, the burger all but crushed in her hand from how she’d grasped it tightly in her fist, the result of pent-up emotion. Eventually though, she began to feel the coldness of the afternoon breeze, and she sniffed, tugging the strings on her hoodie to tighten them.

“You haven’t been to see me in a while,” she mumbled, just loud enough for Marc to hear. She didn’t look at him.

He turned to her, studying her small form before looking back out across the water. “I know,” he said, putting his bottle in the space between them. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset with me if that’s what you are. It’s…I’ve been busy.”

The skeleton-bird-man-thing sat on the railing over the river scoffed at that. Marc expertly ignored it. He turned towards Emory, lifting a leg to tuck under the other. She looked disappointed at his words, which wasn’t honestly surprising. “But I’m here now, buddy,” he told her, “I’m here now. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You know what’s wrong, Marc.” She took his bottle and set it in her lap, tilting it so that the water sloshed about inside. Marc sat back, leaning his left forearm against the top of the bench. For a man with multiple identities, he was particularly patient. Perhaps it was Emory who’d aided in that particular attribute. Whatever it was, he used it now, gently pushing her to tell him. Yes, he knew what was wrong, but Emory needed to learn to use her words.

“I don’t…” He switched his full attention on as she finally started to speak. “I don’t want new parents. I don’t want people who’re gonna pretend to be my mum and dad. I only want—” She hesitated, then gave him a tentative sideways glance. “I only want you. You won’t try to be anyone. You’ll just be Marc,” she finished quietly, swinging her legs back and forth under the bench in the childish manner Marc often wished she’d exude more of.

Marc sucked in a slow deep breath, tugging at the neck of his shirt. He’d promised only after months of knowing her that he’d give her a home one day, when he could. Thinking back, it had been impulsive, a decision based on the part of him that sympathised with her and was willing to give her what he’d never received. But looking at it now, he knew he’d rather keep his word on that above anything else. He was far more than fond of Emory, and she deserved somewhere she could happily and safely call home. He didn’t have to be her father, brother…uncle. He’d be her guardian and protector, there when she needed him to be. Right now, though—Marc glanced at Khonshu again, surprisingly silent though still entirely too present—right now wasn’t a good time.

He shifted on the bench. “I know. But, Em, I—“

“You can’t yet. I understand.” She looked at him, her eyes wide and more innocent than he believed he’d ever seen them. He found himself staring into them, noting the pain and the suffering he couldn’t yet do anything about. It physically hurt him.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t think I was coming to see you today,” he said then, the words escaping him before he could think much about them. “I’m sorry I lied. I’m here on business, like always, I know. I thought about it, coming to see you, but then I thought better.”

Emory took a moment to process his words. “Why is coming to see me bad?”

Marc shook his head, reaching a hand out to place on her knee. “That’s not what I said. I just don’t want us to see each other when I’m on the verge or the aftermath of—of business. Our time’s too important for that.”

“You never say what your business is.”

“I don’t.”

“It’s dangerous.”

Marc glanced at the flattened burger. “Are you gonna eat that?”

She tossed it in the waste bin beside the bench. “I don’t like hamburgers.”

A short silence blanketed them. Marc cracked his knuckles. Khonshu had disappeared.

“So…” He flexed his fingers and sighed. “What’s this family like? Assuming you’ve met them?”

Emory had spent her entire orphaned life in the children’s home, refusing any kind of foster situation or house change. Marc figured the main reason for that was Jeremy and the consistency he gave her. Though there were constantly kids coming and going, Jeremy had always been there for Emory, no matter how many times she attempted to disprove that she neither cared nor appreciated him. But she’d never admit to realising such a thing. In her mind, not submitting to new housing situations kept the illusion alive, that one day she’d be with her parents again. She had no room for stand-ins, whether they were in her best interest or not. She would be going nowhere without her say-so.

She sniffed and banged her foot against the bottom of the bench. “Jeremy made me sit in a room with them,” she said quietly. “The lady smiles a lot and smells like roses. The man has curly hair.”

Marc rose his brows and reached across to ruffle her own hair. “Hey, I have curly hair. Maybe he won’t be so bad.”

Emory swatted his hand away, a little harsher than he’d expected. “They are not taking me, Marc. I won’t go. No matter how many times they say they can help me, or give me a home, I won’t. Go.”

He out his hands up in surrender, though his stomach dropped at the brittle words, knowing they’d backtracked a little. “Alright,” he agreed. “We’ll speak to Jeremy and—”

“I don’t wanna go back there either.”

A sigh wafted through his nose. “Buddy…”

“I’m just really tired, Marc.” Her sudden admittance had him shutting his mouth, his sharp eyes noting the glistening of tears on her wind-bitten cheeks. She wasn’t looking at him, she barely had since he’d paid for her food, simply staring ahead. Her hands fidgeted in her lap and she lifted her legs to cross in front of her. “I don’t want to be there in that stupid home with other orphans.” Her voice sounded painfully dejected. “I don’t wanna be an advertisement for people to come and view me before they take me home. I don’t wanna be an orphan. I want my mum, and I want my dad. That’s all. That’s it. I don’t want anything else.” She wiped at her eyes with small fists, still avoiding his gaze, still unwilling to show him her tears, and he was reminded not for the first time of the situation he’d found her in over two years ago.

She’d been only slightly less closed off than she was now, unwilling to share any information with him, the man who’d saved her from an untimely pummelling in a London alleyway. She still hadn’t spilled the exact reasoning behind being there. Something about a bedroll. Apparently, the homeless men hadn’t been interested in sharing with a twelve-year-old who’d run from a children’s home. Those small fists had certainly tried their best, but she was lucky Marc had walked past when he had. After returning her to the home, he’d found out from Jeremy that she’d been there a mere couple of months, and this had been her third escapade. He’d said he’d be back tomorrow, and gave Jeremy his number.

Emory had certainly dialled her fleeing down in the years he’d known her and continued to visit, but there was still the odd occasion he’d be on the job somewhere across the globe and receive a phone call from Jeremy. Today had been a first, though. Khonshu had taken them to London, and he’d just seen her there in her oversized hoodie, speaking to the vendor as she stood on her tiptoes to see the food on offer. He’d halted for a moment, checked his phone for any missed calls, and kept moving.

Funny that that was the problem. He kept moving. Too much for a kid. And though he’d promised, and he intended on keeping that promise, he didn’t know how long this Khonshu deal would continue to go on for.

With another deep sigh, Marc reached across the bench, wrapping his arm around Emory’s shoulders and pulling her gently towards him. She didn’t resist this time, shuffling across the bench after a couple seconds and fitting herself beside him. She turned her face into his coat and uncrossed her legs, letting one hang over his. The feeling of her little back heaving against his hand told him she was all but sobbing into him, but he wouldn’t comment on it. Not today. Probably never, if she had anything to say about it.

He leaned his head down, pressing his lips to the top of her head for a moment. “Sweetie,” he murmured, “I know I say this a lot, but it’s all going to be okay. You’re in a shitty situation, and you’re so, so brave. Always have been. And I know things aren’t great at the moment, and I know you want nothing to do with that home and the other kids. I know you want your parents, and I will never be sorrier that I can’t bring them back for you. But when I’m done…” He flicked his eyes up, searching for Khonshu. He wasn’t there. Still, he lowered his voice. “When I’m safe and I know you’ll be safe too, I’ll come to you, and I’ll bring you home with me. And I won’t be your dad, or your mom, or your aunt or your uncle or grandparents. I’ll be Marc. Just like you said. And I’ll keep you with me for as long as you’ll let me. You just gotta hold on a little longer for me. Hold onto that rope, and I promise you I’ll pull you up when I can.”

She might have said something before his phone started to buzz, but perhaps it was better that she didn’t. It gave her time to mull over his words, wrap them up and keep them safe in a corner of her mind that she could return to whenever she wished to remind herself of what was waiting for her.

Keeping one hand against Emory, Marc reached into his pocket, pulling it out and letting a breathy laugh escape him once he saw the caller ID. Reassuring the girl with a little pat on her back, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Jeremy, hi,” he said.

“Hey, Marc.” There was a short sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, but she’s gone again. Are you anywhere near—”

“Yeah, I’ve got her, don’t worry,” he interrupted the man before his obvious stress grew tenfold. He knew he cared about Emory. “She’s safe and fed, not a scratch on her.” Emory shifted against him but still kept her face hidden.

“Oh, wow. Thank God. One day she’s gonna disappear on us and give us both a real heart-attack, I know it.” He sounded like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He also sounded like he’d just woken up. “She told you about the couple that want to adopt her? I’m guessing that’s why she left.”

Emory’s hand was clutching his coat now. “Yeah…” He elongated the word. “It’s not gonna work. You know that, right?”

“I had a feeling. Look, Marc, I like you, and she likes you, and that’s more than any living being has been afforded the luxury of since she came to me.” Marc allowed himself a breath of amusement at that. “But she can’t stay here forever. She’s willing to wait for you as long as possible, but social services isn’t.”

“I know.” Marc lifted the hand from Emory’s back to push his hair from his forehead. “I’m—I’m working on it.”

“Good. Are you going to keep her with you for a while before you drop her back here?”

“I think that’s probably best.”

“See you later, Marc. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

He hung up, and Marc brought the phone down, sighing for what seemed like the umpteenth time in the half hour or so since he’d found Emory. He rubbed his free hand down his face, exhaustion and stress becoming all the more noticeable. He could feel a change approaching, something Emory wasn’t privy to just yet.

“You should take her for ice-cream.”

Marc visibly jumped at the sudden deep voice, turning a disgruntled glare on Khonshu, who seemed to have reappeared on the railing once more. After his surprise subsided, Marc registered the Ancient Egyptian god’s scarily human words, and bumped his brows, dipping his head to stare at him. “Did you seriously just suggest that? You?” he whispered.

Khonshu stood up. “You seem to forget I have known young Emory as long as you. She enjoys ice-cream.” He walked off then, and Marc scoffed.

“Who knew you were such a pushover?”

“Huh?”

He looked down as Emory spoke, her face turned just enough for him to see one puffy eye and a rosy cheek. He offered a smile, patting the leg draped across his lap. “Nothing. Do you want to get some ice-cream? Go see a movie? I’ll take you back this evening.”

She wiped at her nose and sniffled, then nodded once. “Can we sit here for a minute longer though?”

“‘Course we can, buddy. We’ve got all day.”

He settled against the back of the bench, pulling Emory’s hood tighter over her head to shield her from the cold. It was a nice reprieve, he thought to himself, to sit on a bench overlooking the Thames, free for a moment of the god that may as well be his shadow, holding one of the only people he’d ever had any semblance of a relationship with. It may not have been the healthiest relationships, or even the strongest, but in the time that they’d had together, he knew they’d have plenty of time to work on that. He just needed to sort everything out. Being Khonshu’s avatar, Layla, Steven…himself. He needed to be in the headspace she deserved, and though he was fine sitting here with her now, he knew the moment he let her go he would return to the mercenary mindset he just wanted to forget.

He needed time.

“Thank you, Marc.” He heard the quiet mumble and felt the cold air of her breath against his side.

Thank you, Emory, was what he wanted to say. As he sat there with the most fragile, yet the strongest human he’d ever met, her very heart in his hands, he couldn’t help but think that this was all something big. The prelude, perhaps, to the inevitable relief the future would bring.

“Hey, you know I love you, kid,” he said instead, meaning every word.

For once, she didn’t protest to the nickname. If anything, she hugged him tighter.

He knew she loved him, too.

Moon Knight Masterpost

329 notes · View notes

illisius · 2 years

Photo

MIRROR, MIRROR | watt.

↳ description ; ( coming soon )

AYA SPECTOR IS DYING. From the time she was born, the thirteen year old has been battling death with both fists. Always teetering on that dangerous scale between life and death, Aya has spent her short life lying in hospitals and going on adventures. For as much of the world as she’d seen, Aya’s world is really quite small. With all the traveling and appointments, she doesn’t attend formal school and isn’t any less for it. She doesn’t bother with friends and she doesn’t have much family, all dead or distant. Aya has her father and she has her mother, and they are the only people in her world that matter.

But as she takes part in her parents’ cheeky antics, Aya is haunted by a constant countdown in her head: seventeen months, two weeks, and twenty—one days. Trying desperately to remain sane, she knows she must make peace with the world before she leaves it. The apple of her parents’ eye, the light of their lives, Aya will die two months after her fourteenth birthday.

And when her health takes a turn for the worst, her father is nowhere to be found.

Marc Spector went missing two months ago, and when they finally find him again, he no longer goes by that name. In a race against the clock, Aya is drawn into a deadly Egyptian mystery with her mother, Layla El—Faouly, and her father’s alter, Steven Grant. Accepting this reality, Aya knows she needs to tell him that she misses him, that he has to fix things with her mom, that she finally perfected that new punch he showed her.

But mostly she needs to tell him that she was dying.

Aya hopes Marc is still in there. She just has to stay alive long enough to find out.

47 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

Windfall

Summary: You are the last unmarried lady. A spinster.

Pairing: Royal!Stucky x Royal!Reader

Warnings: 30+ reader, modern royal au, old fashioned society when it comes to the age of unmarried women (kinda), polyamorous, throuple marriages are allowed in this world, mentions of rejection, the reader is a loner, bitchy ladies, established mlm relationship,

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: B5: Loneliness

Words: 940+

The ladies sneer when you pass them by. You don’t spare them a glance, aware that they do not like you.

People always fear what they do not understand. Like a woman who wants more in life than being her husband's arm candy.

“I don’t know why she holds her head high like that. She’s the last unmarried daughter. Even her younger sibling and almost every cousin are engaged to a gentleman. The last one will be married soon and the poor soul not getting the chance to marry one of the younger ones will settle for the windfall.”

The other women giggle at Lady Dorothy’s words. “You’re right. No one wants the old spinster. A man wants a young woman, a beautiful innocent blossom. Not a withering rose.”

You don’t take their words to heart. They are not wrong. All the gentlemen roaming your parents' house only came for your sister or the cousins your father took in after their parents passed away.

“Lady Y/N,” you sigh when Lady Sharon makes her way toward you. At least she’s kind enough to talk to you in public. “There you are!”

“My dear,” Lord Loki, Sharon’s husband greets you. He bows and presses a chaste kiss to your hand. He’s one of the few men seeing you as more than an old spinster. Loki appreciates your wit. “How have you been?”

“Fine, Lord Loki,” you reply. Unlike the other ladies in the room, you look him straight in the eyes. You’re not the kind of woman cowering in front of a man only because he has a cock between his legs. “I hope you are well too.”

“Very well,” he smiles at his wife. “My brother finally got engaged.”

“Again,” Sharon adds. “He’s a little fickle when it comes to courting for a woman. He should grow up and settle for one lady.”

“I understand him well,” you nod thoughtfully. “It isn’t easy to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You should choose with your heart and mind.”

You barely escaped the nagging ladies and their gossip. Now you are hiding at the library to read another book. Loki and Sharon wouldn’t mind. They invited you to use their library when you are around and read as many books as you want to.

Nose burying in another book you don’t recognize someone sneaking inside the library.

“Stevie, you look so good today.” Your eyes flit up when you hear voices behind one of the shelves. “I can’t wait to put my hands on you.”

“Buck, we can’t. Not here.”

Frowning you listen closely. There is commotion behind the shelf, and you are sure, the men are up to no good.

You close the book and get up to find out what’s going on. If someone tries to steal Loki’s books, you will stop them at all costs.

Silently sneaking toward the shelf, you practice your speech in your mind. You’re not shy, but two men can be intimidating. Especially when they try to commit a crime.

You round the shelf, stopping in your tracks as you face the men. Your breath hitches in your throat because the men do not try to steal Loki’s books. No. They are kissing each other passionately.

You recognize the men. James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. You heard rumors about them being in a relationship but never talked to them before.

You swallow thickly. What can you do? Say something? Tell them to not do such a thing at Loki’s library.

The only thing you can do is turn back around and walk toward the armchair to read your book. If you leave the library now, they will know you saw them. If you say something, they will get mad.

So, you sit back down, open your book, and start reading. You can still hear them kiss and moan but try to blend the noises they make out. It’s inappropriate to listen to their lovemaking. Not to mention sinful and forbidden.

You close your eyes and bite your lower lip. Their moans go straight to your lower half, the sacred garden you only touch at night, hidden in your bedroom.

“Aw, Bucky. Look at that pretty angel touching herself for us. Do you think we should help her out?”

Your eyes snap open as you feel eyes on you. You didn’t realize that the book slipped from your fingers and that you bunched up your skirt to slip your hand into your panties.

“I-no. I didn’t,” you lick your dry lips. “I wouldn’t… no. This is a misunderstanding.” You furiously shake your head.

The men watch your move your fingers, smirking as you cannot stop yourself from touching your clit.

“Doll, you are rubbing your sweet pearl for us, huh?” Bucky’s eyes are glued to your spread legs. “Tell me, did you like watching Stevie and me?”

You nod.

“Did it make your petals all wet?” Steve husks. “Did you touch yourself because you wanted us to touch you?”

You nod again.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispers lowly. “Do you know who she is? The angel no one dared to marry. It’s said that she’s a fiery little thing. Untamable and mouthy.”

“I’m not!” You grunt. “How dare you say such a thing!”

“Fiery and naughty, my beloved,” Steve cups his lover’s face to kiss him deeply. He moans into Bucky’s mouth, making you gasp loudly. “I guess she needs two strong pairs of hands to tame her.”

“Indeed,” Bucky smirks. “I bet her father will be so happy when she gets married to not one but two Lords making her an honest woman…”

Tags in reblog.

#stucky x reader #stucky x y/n #stucky x you #allcapsbingo #allcapsbingo2023 #bucky barnes #steve rogers #modern royalty au

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fanatic-writers · 9 months

Text

Lunch "Dates"

Part Two Here!

A/n: Look at me actually following through with writing. I'm trying to fall back in love with it again but please be patient with me. I am thinking about making this a series or just maybe making it a general universe and having some random one-shots that all kinda connect. Anyway, I hope yall like it. I didn't really edit it all that much tbh... -G

Word Count: 2,032

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader

Warnings: None, just fluff for the most part

Summary: You work as a conservator at the museum Steven works at, regularly sneaking him in on your shared lunch breaks so he can see the artifacts he’s so fond of and occasionally get his help on things (even if you still have to call in a “professional”). But what happens when Steven gets fired and then goes missing? Who’s supposed to accompany you on your lunches? And why do you miss him so damn much?

Life in the conservation lab was never boring. Just as a project seemed to become mundane, you’d find something hidden under the dirt and grime of centuries past that peeked your interest. Either that or you’d finished your current project and it was time to embark on a new one. The collections for the museum had recently received a rather large donation of Egyptian papyrus and you were currently working on cleaning them. While dabbing the delicate plant-based paper with a sponge seemed boring to most you enjoyed the satisfaction of uncovering the secrets found beneath the grime. You’d cleaned off a decent section of the mostly intact papyrus when your watch buzzed, letting you know it was time for lunch. You smiled to yourself as you put things away, leaving the artifact out since you knew you’d be back in a moment anyway.

As you removed and disposed of your gloves you gave a small wave to your co-workers, letting them know you’d be back in a moment. You made your way down the stairs to the main level and stopped in one of the many gift shops the museum had to offer, waiting for a certain gift-shoppist to finish with a customer. When the father and daughter in front of you left you gave Steven a warm smile before leaning onto the counter. “So, you know how we got some new stuff in from Cairo? Well, I’ve been working on a papyrus, and it would be super helpful if I had a translator.”

Steven beamed at you, knowing your whole translator thing was just an excuse to get him down there. He had been teaching you hieroglyphs and you had a specialist at your call when you would need them. “Of course!” He smiled “Let me just clock out for lunch and I’ll be right out, yeah?” You nodded in response and within minutes Steven was following you back up to the lab.

“This whole collection is amazing. A lot of it is in pretty good shape although I will definitely still have to make a lot of repairs. The one I’m working on now is the most intact piece in the collection.” You mused as you buzzed yourself into the lab, signed Steven in, and then made your way to your workstation. “Here she is” you hummed as you gestured to the large section of a scroll in front of you. “Still have to piece some parts together but that’ll be easier when its clean and I can see what I’m working with.” You explained.

Steven carefully leaned down over the papyrus; eyes wide as he took everything in “This is amazing.” He gushed. “I mean the size of the piece-“

“I know!” You interrupted excitedly, “usually we only get fragments from private donors, but this is insane.” As you spoke Steven grabbed a nearby notebook, eager to try and figure out what the uncovered hieroglyphs said. It was a bit choppy since some pieces were missing but he was able to transcribe most of it into your notebook. “I had something else I wanted to show you.” You hummed, watching as he worked. Steven perked up a bit as you grabbed a small box from one of the other tables in the lab and brought it over to him. You opened the box to reveal a shiny golden scarab inside. Steven’s eyes went wide as he looked to the golden artifact, his hand hovering over the box “What is it?” He asked. “We don’t know, but considering the shape it’s in it almost looks like whoever had it went through good measures to keep in nice and hidden away. We found this small box inside a puzzle box inside a lock box.” You explained. “They think it’s some sort of jewelry thing but that really doesn’t make sense because-“ You were cut off by a buzz on your wrist letting you know you only had a few minutes left of lunch. “We should actually eat something huh?” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly as you closed the box and put it back in its spot. You and Steven had your usual lunch of sandwiches on the steps of the museum, Steven brainstorming what the scarab could be between bites. The rest of the day went by, and it wasn’t long before you and Steven were saying your goodbyes on the street in front of the museum.

“See you Monday?” You asked as you pulled your keys from your bag, not having that much of a walk to get to your apartment. Steven nodded, giving you a small wave “Monday.” He confirmed “Laters gators.” He smiled at you as he began to move to his bus stop. You smiled to yourself as you walked the few blocks to your apartment in the other direction. --- Steven didn’t fully remember getting home that night. He remembered the butterflies in his stomach when you came to visit him, something he thought would’ve gone away by now. He remembered that he had a date the next day with Alex that he didn’t remember asking her out on. He’d liked the tour guide sure, but he liked you more. He shook the thought from his head, just happy that whatever the hell he had just experienced was a dream. Truth be told he was more focused on how Gus seemed to have two fins now rather than the fact that the same scarab you’d shown him had been a pretty big part of his dream. He never really had much time to think about that either, considering the date he was supposed to go on had been a complete and total failure. He almost tried to seek you out, to find some comfort in the madness of the day but he didn’t have your number or any other way to try and reach you. Instead, he settled on eating the chocolates he’d bought in his apartment and sharing the occasional sprinkle with Not Gus.

He was too distracted by the man from his dream not only being real but following him to work to even notice that you were waiting for him at the desk. Too focused on trying to get JP to actually do some semblance of security, to find safety somewhere to notice that you had taken the boxes Donna had practically dumped on him. Too distracted from, running away from the strange ma with the crocodile cane to notice that you had been waiting in the gift shop for him. “You alright?” Your voice made him nearly jump out of his skin, earning him a worried look from you. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do much to quell your worries. “Just a long weekend.” He mumbled to himself. “I heard,” You sighed, and he looked up at you, curious “Alex isn’t exactly happy with you and she’s not being quiet about it.” You fill in the blanks for him before he can ask. “I tried to calm her down a bit, told her you get your days mixed up sometimes. I’m sorry Steven.” You shot him a small smile “I gotta go but I’ll see you at lunch yeah?”

Steven just nodded, watching as you left the gift shop. He sighed to himself and began to put things away and get the register sorted for customers. He just had to make it to lunch. Then maybe he’d have some semblance of normalcy, of safety in your company. He’d told you about his issues with sleeping in the past, with his dreams, explained how he’d lost days sometimes. You’d never judged him, instead doing everything you could to help him out. You knew there wasn’t much you could do but it did help to just know someone cared, that someone was listening. The day seemed to drag on until Steven saw you again for lunch.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a golden scarab lying around?” Your words made Steven freeze. He had in his maybe dream, maybe he shouldn’t tell you about it. What if you thought he stole it? Steven shook his head no and you sighed, figuring it would be the answer. “Jess probably just took it to cleaning and didn’t put it back. I told her she needs to actually fill out her sheets, so we know what she’d working on, but she never listens and now we’re missing an artifact.” You let out a small huff before shaking the negativity from your head. If Steven wasn’t so worried about what the hell happened to the scarab and what he had to do with it he’d think you were cute. Instead, his mind was racing with every possibility and what the hell was going on. He was zoned out for most of lunch, half listening to you talk about your weekend. You didn’t seem to notice and if you did you didn’t bring it up.

--- Steven was off all of Monday, it was easy to tell. You didn’t push him though, hearing enough about his weekend from Alex and knowing he was likely in a bad mood from missing the date. What you didn’t expect was to walk into work on Tuesday to a mess in the bathrooms and Steven and JP going over the security footage. “That’s not me mate” You heard Steven mumble under his breath, moments later he was called to HR. You heard he’d been walked out and that was that. There was no way for you to call him, to email him, hell you would’ve settled for knocking on the man’s door at this point. You knew there was no way in hell sweet little Steven would’ve been able to rip apart the bathroom the way it had been. It looked like the Hulk had gone through there, not Steven, Steven who wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone a whole bathroom. He’d left before your lunch, so you hadn’t known for sure till you saw Donna in the gift shop. The rest of the week dragged by with you hoping everyday that you’d see a familiar curly haired man in the gift shop, but he didn’t come back. Donna had made it pretty clear to you that if she had anything to say about it, he never would.

As the days passed on you realize just how much you had cared for Steven, just how much light he had brought to your workday. You missed your little lunch dates, your conversations about whatever was in the lab that day. You missed finding excuses to have him come up to the lab and show him what you’d been working on, not knowing many other people who had appreciated your work. You missed having a friend around. About a month had passed since Steven had been fired. You were walking up the stairs to work when you heard someone call out your name. You didn’t recognize the voice at first but as you looked around you spotted Steven at the bottom of the steps. You smiled wide and practically ran down them to meet him.

“Steven?” You smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around him “Where the hell have you been?” The man stayed silent although his arms found their way around you. “Long story love, very long story.” He chuckled a bit. You pulled back and took him in, your heart racing slightly as you debated on if you should ask him to tell you about it over dinner, but he beat you to the punch. “Why don’t I meet you here after your shift? You’re still off at five, right?” Steven asked and you answered with a nod. “Great. It’s a date.”

You bid him goodbye quickly making your way back inside in hopes that he wouldn’t see just how excited the prospect of a date with him made you. You could’ve sworn you heard Steven mutter a curse under his breath, but you figured you could ask about it later on your date. Your date with Steven. You practically skipped to the lab, eager for the day to end.

#steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #marc spector x reader #marc spector #moon knight system #moon knight system x reader

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book-place · 2 years

Text

Their Surprise

Warnings: slight cursing, kidnapping, violence, death of family, low self esteem, mentions of abuse, mention of house burning down, guns, killing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x teen reader, Layla El- Faouly x teen reader

Request: Could I please request something with the dialogue #10 prompt with a reader with family trauma, (like she comes from a family where her parents hated each other, she suffered with low self-esteem, struggled in school which caused her parents to beat/hit her but only a couple times but enough to traumatize her, then moved to London after her parents divorce and father’s imprisonment followed by his death, followed by her mom and younger brother dying in a car accident which resulted in her ending up in an orphanage for months. Y’know, ✨the good stuff✨ (this is based on my oc i promise lmfao 😭, this was more for just background and context) Anyways, after she ends up running away from the orphanage and meets Marc and Layla after she had an encounter with Harrow’s minions where they try to measure her scale but Marc and Layla ended up saving her and thus the reader ends up joining their journey to defeat Arthur and she also ends up becoming a daughter figure to both of them but specifically to Marc and Steven.

Request by: @listenercenter

*not my gif*

Summary: When you meet Marc and Layla everything changes, but if it’s for the better or worse is not yet decided

A/N: This kind of turned into something similar that I’ve done before, but it’s still different enough where I feel okay to post it; bolded parts are the dialogue prompts

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Letting out a huff of air, you let your head fall backwards, after watching your breath for a moment, towards the sky as your eyes fluttered to a close.

There was a slight breeze in the already cold night, and it lifted and moved your hair slightly, as if playing with it. But eventually it got bored and dropped it back down, leaving you alone and moving on to someone else.

The sound of soft footsteps padding your way caused your eyes to snap open.

It was about one in the morning and you had snuck out to get air as well as some alone time. When you had left you went to a small, nearby park that always looked like a tornado had just blown through it. But you didn’t care, it gave you the privacy you craved at the early hour of the morning.

Your head turned to where the sounds had been coming from, and your vision narrowed in on a man with long hair and a walking cane. There were two people behind, both clad in all black.

The man in the front had his eyes trained on you in a way that made you feel uneasy, so you suddenly turned away, stupidly hoping that when doing so he would disappear.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to defend yourself. You actually knew how to very well. It was just that you were tired, and it would be three grown adults against you, a teenager.

When you were young, your mother and younger brother died in a car accident, leaving you with no living relatives to take you in or take care of you.

When your family had been alive though, none of you were happy together.

You had always struggled with low self esteem and it affected all of your grades negatively, which prompted your parents to hit you. They didn’t do it often, but enough to get the point across that you better shape up or there will be bigger issues at hand. And that alone terrified you.

Not too long after the first time you had been hit, when you were about twelve years old, your parents had gotten a divorce, and you moved to London with your mom and younger brother. The news reached you soon enough about your fathers imprisonment after that.

To the day, you didn’t know what exactly got him sent to prison. From what you knew of your father though, there was probably a long list of charges.

Only two months after moving was when the car crash happened, leaving you to be placed in an orphanage you hated even more than you had hated your former home life.

When though you were still only twelve at the time, you quickly learned that in order to survive, you needed to be able to look after yourself. So you learned some basic self defense moves, and now, four years later, you even had to use them a couple times.

But now, you weren’t so sure if you would be able to get out of this situation with a couple of moves you learned from YouTube.

The thought of running to escape and flew out of your mind, no longer even an idea, as the trio grew closer to you.

The person who appeared to be the leader kneeled down in front of you, causing you to bring your knees up to your chest and move as far back as you could on the little bench.

“Hello there,” His scratchy voice said, “My name is Arthur Harrow. How would you like to be a part of something bigger than all of us? How would you like to be one of the first in our new era?”

What the hell was he going on about? You had never seen this man before in your life, and the ‘Stranger Danger’ bells were finally going off in your head when he grabbed both of your wrists.

With wide eyes, you let out a little yelp and immediately tried to pull your hands out of his, but he was much and stronger than you.

“Shh,” He shushed you, closing his eyes, “Let Ammit do her work.”

You freaked out even more when you saw the scale tattoo on his arm begin to move.

Just as you opened your mouth to call out for help from somebody- anybody- the man in front of you was harshly ripped away and your wrists were once again free.

You immediately cradled them to your chest, taking turns rubbing them soothingly as you looked with still wide eyes at the scene in front of you.

Everybody in your city knew about the new rising vigilantes, Moon Knight, Mr Knight, and the Scarlet Scarab. And it appeared that two of them had come to your aid.

The Scarlet Scarab punched one of the men in black in the throat, not even watching as he fell to the floor before turning and kicking the other woman in the stomach before delivering a blow to her face that send her sprawling back.

Moon Knight had been the one to take Arthur by the shoulder and get him away from you before hitting him in the face.

The long haired man quickly recovered though, and picked up his cane that he had discarded to the ground and hit the man in the stomach.

A mere grunt was heard, but nothing else from him as he swung his arm back and hit him yet again in the face.

Once the woman was sure that the other two people weren’t getting up, she rushed over to you and scanned your huddled up body for injuries.

“Are you okay?” She asked, kind eyes boring into yours.

You felt your head nod shakily, unsure of what you could say.

She seemed to sense the fright in you, and she nodded once, as if to herself, in understanding before putting a reassuring hand on your knee and rubbing circles on it.

Your eyes snapped up at the sound of cursing, and you saw Moon Knight whipping around in circles as he looked for any sign of Harrow, bringing his hands up to his head, “He disappeared.” The man grunted.

Then he sighed and walked over to the two of you.

You eyed him wearily as he approached.

There were rumors going around that Moon Knight was an alien- which you obviously didn’t believe, but right now it made you slightly hesitant, due to the fact that most superheroes didn’t wear masks anymore, they didn’t care if the world knew their identities. And yet he still wore one.

The two seemed to exchange a glance, and he nodded before the mask unveiled around his face right before your eyes. They somehow knew one of the causes of your fear.

You didn’t know what to expect as the cloth pulled away from his face, but he was just a normal guy. Nothing to be scared of.

And that was how you met Marc Spector and Layla El- Faouly.

-•-

It had been three months since you met London's very own vigilantes, and for once, you couldn’t be happier with your life.

After being targeted by Harrow in the park, they had offered to escort you home, but when you had embarrassingly told them that you lived in an orphanage, they didn’t flinch. They simply walked you there instead.

For the next week after that, they constantly came around outside of their vigilante time to check in on you and see how you were doing.

During that span of time, you had learned that Mr Knight and Moon Knight were two very different people in the same body when they introduced you to Steven.

What you hadn’t expected, was for them to adopt you at the end of the first week.

You had thought it was a joke at first, but once you realized that it wasn’t, you cried out of pure joy and leapt into their arms for a long awaited hug.

Now, three months later, you were living with them in their apartment as they continued their seemingly endless search for Arthur Harrow, all while protecting the people of London.

You were currently walking down the street on the way back home with two grocery bags in hand.

Marc and Layla had left in a rush earlier in the morning, saying they had a lead on Harrow, quickly bidding you goodbye and kissing the top of your head before rushing out the door.

It never escaped your notice how hard the two of them worked, so you decided to try to surprise them by making a cake for when they return. Only to find out that they didn’t have any of the ingredients in the kitchen.

You had learned when first moving in that there was a small store only a few blocks away, and you had felt like stretching your legs that day so you walked instead of taking the bus to get there.

In a couple of steps, you would take a turn at a corner and you would be able to see the apartment building, and finally be able to begin your surprise for the two people that had done so much for you.

But that’s when two hands suddenly grabbed you from behind and harshly yanked you into an alleyway, causing you to let out a yelp. Before you could open your mouth once more to scream, something hard hit you over the top of the head.

The hands let go of you, and you felt the whole world spinning as you swayed from side to side. You turned around, eyes already half closed to see a grinning Arthur surrounded by a couple people in black, one of them holding a metal pipe that was streaked with a little bit of blood. Your blood.

Then you were swallowed in darkness.

-•-

You didn’t open your eyes when you first woke up. Instead you stayed laying wherever you were, trying to remember if you took the cake out of the oven or if the apartment was burning down as you just stayed there.

It seemed very possible, because your brain was pounding against your skull in ways that could be caused by a mix of a slept through fire alarm and smoke.

But then it came back to you. Harrow.

Your eyes snapped open, ignoring the shouts of protest that your head was giving, and you took in your surroundings.

You were in a large room, on a bed pushed up against a far wall. The other part of the room appeared to be an office, with a desk and many other tables and chairs scattered around.

It took a lot of effort, but you were able to push yourself into a sitting position so you could examine the room more closely. There were no windows, nor were you bound in anyway to keep you restrained.

“So, we meet again.” Aurthurs voice rang out as he stepped through a door on the other side of the room, a sinister smile on his face.

“What the hell is happening?” Your voice was scratchy from lack of use, leaving you to wonder how long you had been out.

“I believe you know some friends of mine.” The man continued, slowly moving across the room and taking a seat on a chair a couple feet away from your bed.

You didn’t need to ask for you to know who he was talking about, “What the hell do you want with them?”

The man shook his head mockingly and clicked his tongue, “Those three have caused a lot of trouble for me.” He explained slowly, as if talking to a toddler.

“And they’re going to cause even more.” You snapped- ever since you had been adopted your self esteem had finally gone up and you felt more confident in yourself “Once they find out that you have me.”

“Oh, they already know.” The smile on his face made your skin crawl, “In fact-“ He cut himself off as he held a finger up and right on cue there was the sound of shouting and gunshots from outside the door, “They’re here now.”

Without warning, the door was kicked open and in marched a very angry looking Layla, steam was practically coming out of her ears.

God's help anyone that stood in her way.

“I’m going to kill you.” She seethed, deadly glare narrowed in directly on Arthur, a threat that was not in any way to be taken lightly.

He simply grinned, pulling out a gun and pointing it right at you, causing you to stiffen as the weapon was loaded.

Marc walked in seconds later, suit on just like Layla, with his mask gone.

His eyes zoomed in on the sight before him and his wife’s heavily panting form.

“What do you hope to achieve from this, Harrow?” Marc called out from across the room, not daring to take a step closer while your life was on the line.

The man’s face finally dropped its grin and instead was replaced by a sneer, “Revenge. Pay back for what you did to me.” His eyes turned and focused on you, “They did this to you. They’re the reason that you’re about to die.”

While Harrow had all of his attention trained on you, he hadn’t noticed Marc take out moon-shaped weapon and slowly pull his arm back before throwing it at full force towards the man.

It hit him square in the chest and he fell to the ground immediately upon impact, hitting his head on the chair he had previously been sitting on.

Your adopted parents didn’t hesitate to rush over to you, Marc moving to make sure Harrow was unconscious, and Layla to embrace you.

She sat on the bed beside you, holding and comforting you as you cried, “Shh,” She cooed, “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you now… I’ve got you and I’m not letting go. Not ever again.”

You sniffled, pulling your face away from the fabric of her suit to look up at her, “I just wanted to make you guys a cake.”

The two of them chuckled, and Marc walked over and gently held the side of your head as he placed a kiss into your hair, “One thing at a time.”

Like a Bee 🐝- @ip747 @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @jvdethirlwall

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2 Isn’t it strange?

Chapter 2 of Moon Star

A/N- Thanks for all the love and support on the first chapter :)

Warning- Violence, blood and weapons, angst, fluff?

Pairing- Marc Spector x daughter!reader

Episode- 1x03 & (the beginning of) 1x04

————

*6 YEARS AGO. CHICAGO*

“Okay, I’ve thought of it,” you interject happily. “I want to go live with you. I want to take a gap year after high school.”

The breeze was chilly, the night was clear, letting the stars, and the moon in its full phase shine brightly from the dark sky. Yellow lights basked the park's paved path, and the smell of sweet cinnamon swirled in your nose as you held a cinnamon pretzel in hand.

“But—”

“I know,” you cut your father off and meet his gaze as he glances over at you with uncertainty. “I know what you’re dedicated to dad, but I don’t care. I mean It’s kinda cool,” you giggle. “You’re like a…hero.”

Marc scoffs and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t call it that,” he murmurs and averts his gaze.

You shrug softly. “You have a cloak,” you quip. “Hero.”

“That God that came to earth, Loki, also had a cloak, he wanted to rule us,” your dad argues. “He was evil.”

You shake your head. “No, pa, that was more of a cape,” you argue.

He tilts his head and squints his eyes as he sucks in air through his teeth. “Was it?”

You nod and blurt. “Yes! You have a cloak okay?” You jump and drop cinnamon sugar all over your hand. “It’s a cloak, I said so. Just like I say you’re a hero! Because Khonshu is into justice, punishing the ones who did wrong already. Hero.”

Your dad sighs and nods as he can’t help but smile. “Fine, but I think you’re the only one who’s gonna think that.”

You shrug and grin. “I am okay with that. Makes me special.”

Your dad looks up at you and smiles wider.

“So?” You press. “Can I go live with you?”

His smile begins to fade away, his eyes fall, and he swallows thickly whilst he comes to a stop towards the end of the path that’s near the parking lot. You mirror his actions and wait in silence.

“First,” he adds. “I need to tell you something. Something about me.”

You tilt your head just slightly and squint your eyes as you grow curious in your wait.

Your dad looks up at you to meet your gaze all seriously and upset. “I have—”

Before he can finish his sentence though he cuts himself off as he throws his arms around you and shoves you to the ground the moment a car comes flying through the park, ending up crashing in a tree close to where you were both just standing.

“What the hell?” You gasp in shock as your dad helps you off the ground.

“Stay here,” your dad instructs as he turns to walk towards the car crashed into the tree with smoke coming out of its completely obliterated hood.

Regardless of what he just said you slowly follow him towards the car, noticing the broken window and a conscious passenger, but no driver.

There wasn’t a driver inside.

“Help me!” The passenger yells when they notice your dad approaching. “Please! My husband he just, oh god! Oh my god!”

Your dad throws his hand out and begins to run towards the passenger. “I’m coming! I’m going to help!” He exclaims.

However, once your dad reaches the door, you stop in your tracks as the passenger inside suddenly begins to turn to dust.

“What the—” your dad mutters.

The passenger reaches out for help from your dad, he tries to speak but then all of him just disappears.

“Pa, what’s going on?!” You yell in between pants.

He doesn’t turn, he begins to talk to himself—or really the God you can’t see, so you wait in horror over what just happened to those people.

However, as you wait, all of sudden you catch your pretzel fall to the floor without you feeling it. As you begin to look down to try and find the reason why it suddenly dropped, you see your hand beginning to disappear, to turn to dust.

It doesn’t hurt, but seeing yourself vanishing begins to freak you out more than you already were. You could hardly breathe now, hardly hear anything with how fast your heart was beating. But you did know who to call for, the man that brought you comfort and safety.

“Dad?” You call in a quivering voice.

He looks over and immediately his eyes widen and he doesn’t fret to break into a sprint towards you as you continue to turn to dust.

“Pa,” you cry as you’re unable to hold back your fear and the tears that ensued. “I’m scared. Please, please.”

He grabs your shoulder with one hand, whilst with the other one he grabs your cheek as he shakes his head in denial. “No, no, just, I’m going to help—Khonshu!” He bellows. “Baby,” he whispers. “It’s okay. I got you.”

Nothing stops what was happening though, you’re vanishing; your arm is gone, your legs are disappearing, making you fall. Luckily your dad catches you and crouches down with you.

“No,” he sneers. “No. Y/N, just….”

You hold his gaze and see tears in his eyes, and that’s when you feel a sudden wave of comfort; being in his arms, holding his warm brown eyes. You were no longer scared. You smile even if it’s wobbly

“I love you,” you whisper and grab his cheek. “I'm glad you’re my—“

“No, stop it,” he cuts you off with tears rolling down his cheeks.

You try to wipe them off, but your hand begins to disappear now too.

“Don’t say it,” he whispers and tries to cradle your face. “Baby…”

And you were gone, all he held onto was dust, all he felt was the sugar grains on his cheeks that had been stuck to your hand.

You were gone.

He couldn’t—he didn’t want to believe it, he didn’t want to accept that he couldn’t save you. He didn’t want to believe you were gone. Even if the truth was clear, even if he couldn’t change it, he didn’t want to….

But he had to. That made him break.

He broke into a grief and pain stricken sob as he held onto the dust still on his hands.

Anger then overwhelmed him too, so much so that he began to smack his hands against the cement until they were red and raw, until there was nothing but scrapes on his hands.

And then in the midst of it all he was gone too, he escaped his pain and let another come through.

——

*NOW. CAIRO EGYPT*

“Okay….he’s…now he’s less than a quarter of a mile to the east. We’re close,” you say and look from your phone in hopes you’d see a glimpse of him, of his hair, his face, or his eyes. But no, there were too many people crowded in the streets of Cairo to see him right away.

“Come on, stay close,” Layla intructs as you both swerve past bodies of people to follow the tracker you had on Marc.

You scoff. “How do you think he’ll react?” You ask her.

“Anger,” she responds right away.

You laugh and nod.

“Look, he’s—”

Her words albeit get lost in the breeze as the sight of a clothes stand nearby steals your attention—more specially a particular jacket on display.

When you rush over there you instantly fall in love and can’t help but swindle the man into giving it to you for cheaper. Sure you disobeyed Layla for something insignificant, but on the bright side even if you had broken away from Layla’s side it wasn’t hard to find her again, using the tracker led you right to her and Marc.

“Layla,” you make yourself known with excitement.

Said woman looks past Marc’s shoulder, and Marc slowly turns to face you and instantly groans and shakes his head at the sight of you.

“Great, you brought her too,” he mutters without the accent.

As much as his words stung, you ignore him and smile at Layla as you put your hands out. “Look at my jacket. I just got it. Like, just now.”

Layla nods. “I see that. After I told you to stay close.”

You flick your wrist down to brush off her concern. “Look. The sleeves huh,” you point out as you rub the black sleeves. “The many pockets to hide stuff,” you point to the pockets on your sleeves and on the dark green torso part of the jacket. “And watch this,” you pause and put on the hood before connecting the mask that went over your nose and mouth. “For the sand! I got it for super cheap too.”

“What are you doing here, y/n?” Marc asks and crushes your excitement.

You pull down the mask and scoff. “I’m here with Layla,” you spat. “Marc? Or Steven?” You point as you fold your arms over your chest. “Who am I talking to? Or are you pretending to be someone new?”

Marc sighs deeply and turns his head to face Layla. “Layla, explain to me why you brought my daughter with you?”

Of course he’s ignoring you now.

“Your daughter,” Layla clarifies in your defense. “Is 19 now, Marc, she can do whatever it is she wants.”

“But if you’re so concerned,” you interject and walk over to face him. “I’m here for Layla. To help her. So save whatever fatherly concern you suddenly feel. Also,” you sigh. “I’m going to need my tracker back. It’s still a work in progress.”

Marc eyebrows furrow and he slightly narrows his gaze in confusion. “Tracker? What tracker?

You roll your eyes in annoyance and reach behind his ear to pull the tiny tracker you had managed to tuck when helping “Steven” try and calm down.

“This tracker,” you say and show off the tiny tracker that looked almost like an earring bud. “Undetectable against airport technology and new metal detectors.” You put it away in your bag and smile with pride. “I’m working on the kinks. But hey, it tracked you all the way over here without you feeling it, so it works nicely even if it’s made out of scrap materials.”

Marc’s scowl falls and his lips begin to lift to a smile, but you don’t get to fully see it since you look away and Layla interrupts.

“Come with us, we’ll help you find what you need.”

You don’t add anything else, nor do you let him tell you anything in any regard, you stay close to Layla and make it known you don’t wish to talk to him. Not like there was a lot to add from either of you besides, Mogart, Layla’s contact that knows about what Marc is looking for, Senfu’s sarcophagus.

It's a ways away from where you were, in some property past some river. And the entire way to the river was painfully quiet, there was some conversation, mostly between Layla and you but since Marc was close, you didn’t feel like talking much. It’s just that he…he angers you, he makes you furious over old reasons, and over the fact that he hasn’t tried to explain himself about this Steven character. It’s like he expects you to know already, to piece it together on your own instead of simply explaining it, instead of telling you.

Is it so hard? It was so easy before, talking to one another. There were ups and downs of course, but you liked to think that you had a good relationship, you understood him and his job. But now after coming back, he’s like a completely different person. When you look at him, you see your dad, you recognize his face, but everything about him is new, he’s a stranger full of anger.

Unbeknownst to you though, he was trying. He would think of things to say in his own way, things that feel right, things he knew you wanted to hear, a genuine apology and a good ass explanation. But as he looks at you, as he watches as you listen to music while you try to nod to sleep with the rocking of the boat, he couldn’t work up the courage even if he had it all planned.

It’s just…if Khonshu got to you because of him, because he got close to you again, he wouldn’t forgive himself. It seems it’s too late to avoid getting you in harm's way, but he wouldn’t permit Khonshu to make you his next avatar. No matter how much the distance hurt him, not even if Layla was trying to encourage him with pointed looks to say anything to you.

Yet that only hurts you a hundred times more, the avoidance. Even if you have music playing in your earphones to pass the time, you don’t have it loud enough to block out the conversation between Layla and Marc. You hear him, the kind things he says to her. “I am sorry for whatever that’s worth.”

You stiffen and your breath trembles, you try not to but you can’t help but look over at your father, in pain, in betrayal. You watch him, you see his sincerity and it hurts.

That’s what you wanted to hear, all of it. It’s that simple. You wouldn’t hold a grudge for him missing your graduation, or for not calling you when your grandmother died because you knew about their strained relationship, you wouldn’t hold a grudge about anything. But he didn’t even look at you. It’s like you weren’t there to him.

“So, this Mogart guy. He’s really gonna have this sarcophagus?” He asks Layla.

“Yes,” Layla assures him. “I asked around. Mogart’s collection is prime gossip for those of us who deal in antiquities.”

Their conversation comes to a halt and they drift to personal stuff as the music from the other passengers gets louder and someone begins ululating.

You try not to listen in, but you can’t help yourself, or the jealousy that begins to ignite within.

“You could’ve told me. You know. What’s its been like for you. About Steven.” Layla says, making you glance over at Marc, and notcing him avert his gaze for a moment before focusing back on her and interjecting.

“For what it’s worth I had it under control until very recently.”

You glance back at your phone and listen to Layla question him. “What happened?”

“I-it doesn’t matter,” he tries to dismiss her, but she leans forward and grabs his hands. “We could’ve handled it together.”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

You clench your jaw and let out a deep breath. You hide well.

“That’s not really what I do, is it?” He continues. “Never really been able to just talk about everything.”

“Anything real?” She questions and he nods in agreement.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have.” Layla says.

Marc nods and ends up pushing her hands away. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe. A little too late for that now, though.” He pulls away from her, and you watch him look away and just go cold. And honestly their distance makes you happy.

It sounds vain, selfish perhaps, but it’s an honest truth.

“Okay, let’s get our story straight. Y/N.”

You pretend to not hear right away so it doesn’t seem like you were listening in.

He proceeds to lean over and nudges your knee, and you finally pretend to give him your attention. “What?” You lower the earphones from your ears and look between him and Layla.

“We’re discussing our cover,” he lets you know.

You sigh and nod along in comprehension. “Okay.” You blink and begin to smile. “Can I pick my own cover?” You meet Layla's gaze and wiggle your eyebrows.

Layla purses her lips together and shakes her head. “Sorry, kid, I already have a cover for you,” she lets you down.

You groan deeply and sink in your seat.

“Your name is y/n Estrada.” She lets you know, and you groan again.

“I keep my own name, how boring,” you grumble.

She shrugs nonchalantly and looks at Marc. “You’re Rufino Estrada. We just got married and we just got back from our very first family trip to the Maldives.”

Marc nods along and you throw her a thumbs up since you have no other choice.

“And,” Marc says and looks over at you. “Listen to me, Wolfie, you stick by me the entire time, got it?”

You meet his gaze with nonchalance and scoff. “I can protect myself,” you rebuttal. “I don’t need you to protect me. I made sure of that.”

Marc gets ready to argue back, but you scoff and tear your eyes away and make it known that the conversation was over between him and you.

“You got all your weapons?” Layla directs at you.

You look over at her and pat your pockets before shaking your bracelet with a smile. “Got it. Small pockets,” you show off. “Useful.”

“Okay,” Marc interjects. “We’re almost there get your bags.”

You duck down and pull your backpack from under your seat, feeling your phone vibrate in the meanwhile.

It’s probably just your grandfather Elias, you think at first. As you pick up the phone to check, you grow wary as you see that it’s not actually your grandfather, but an Unknown ID.

Weird.

You unlock the phone and pull down the notification bar to read the message.

Unknown

Does texting first earn me a name?

Oh—oh my god. Oh.

You turn off the phone and drop it back on your lap to stare off at the water ahead of you. You try not to get excited but it’s late, you read it, you know it’s Spider-Man, you can’t stop the butterflies from fluttering or your heart from racing because that’s close to what you said to him.

It’s him!

“Oh my god!” You exclaim as you’re unable to contain your excitement, causing Layla and Marc to instantly look over at you in confusion. “Ah!” You giggle and jump up to your feet.

“Okay,” you breathe out and face Layla. “Remember the job we did in New York the other day?”

Layla slightly narrows her gaze and nods.

“Well,” you continue and briefly cover your mouth before clenching your fist and dropping your hand. “I might’ve given Spider-Man my number and he totally just texted me!”

“Spider-Man?” Marc mumbles.

“Spider-Man?” Layla retorts in disbelief.

You nod. “Yes! Spider-Man!”

“Are you going to text him back?” She asks. “Text him. Go for it,” she encourages you.

Yet someone isn’t as thrilled.

“You don’t even know him,” Marc complains. “What if he’s some old man? A real weirdo.”

You scoff. “And what if he’s like…” you pause and realize that you’re talking to your father so you just sigh and shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. And,” you point at Layla. “I will, but not yet, I don’t want to sound desperate. If he’s interested he won’t care if I let him wait.” You smile happily and sit back down even if the boat is about to dock.

And just as the boat comes to a stop and you let everyone else get down first, your phone begins to ring.

“Oh, fuck,” you blurt and turn your phone away. “It’s ringing—” you swallow thickly and feel your heart pound faster. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Don’t answer,” Marc grumbles.

Without a second thought you hand your phone to Layla. “Tell me who it is,” you mutter rapidly.

Layla chuckles at you and grabs your phone to check the caller ID. “Not who you think,” She reveals and hands you back the phone.

You grab it and once you read that it’s your grandfather you let out a frustrated sigh. Nevertheless you answer as you stand back once everyone on the boat is off.

“Hello,” you greet more calmly and watch Marc get off first.

“Y/N, honey,” your grandfather responds with happiness. “Just checking up on you.”

You smile and hand Marc your backpack so he can hide it under the dock before you climb out of the boat, whilst you respond. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t call, I’ve been busy. But we’ve got our hotel now, and we’re out…exploring,” you lie so he wouldn’t worry.

“That’s good,” he says. “I’ll keep it brief then so you can get back. Wear sunscreen, keep your head covered so you don’t overheat, drink lots of water…”

You giggle and peer over your shoulder to make sure Layla was off the boat now—which she is.

“And take lots of pictures,” he finishes.

You nod even if he can’t see it and begin to walk away from the dock, knowing Layla and Marc were right behind you. “Okay,” you say. “I will. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“I am, don’t worry about me.” He assures you.

You sigh and smile softly but feel bad you had left him all alone. “I’ll call tomorrow, or I’ll text you, okay?“

“Okay. I love you.” He says.

You grin at the phone. “I love you too, have a good day”

“I will, don’t be scared to call whatever time, my phone is always on.” He continues to assure you.

You nod. “Okay,” you assure him. “I love you. Bye.”

“Bye,” he responds and hangs up, letting you put your phone away, and getting an immediate reaction.

“Who was that?” Marc asks.

You side eye him since he’s walking at your side and scoff. “My grandpa Elias,” you reveal bitterly. “Unlike you he actually tries to check up on me everyday.” You roll your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

Marc drops his head and nods as he licks his lips and sighs deeply out of his nose. “Okay, I get it you’re upset—”

“No,” you cut him off and don’t bother to look at him. “Don’t give me some shitty ass apology now. Let’s focus on the job.”

Marc goes quiet and nods stiffly, and you slow down your pace to end up walking behind him and Layla as you begin to approach the ring where there’s security guarding, and men playing El-Mermah inside.

“Bek,” Layla greets a tall man in a fancy dark suit.

“Layla,” the man greets and takes a look at Marc, and then at you behind them.

“It’s been a while,” she says as they shake hands.

“Good to see you,” he says.

“Yeah.”

He pulls away and begins to turn. “Right this way,” he says and leads the way to the ring, making Layla and Marc hold hands to make the cover believable.

Albeit you know it’s not just for cover.

“He’s looking forward to seeing you,” Bek adds. “After Madripoor I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about. Excuse me for one moment,” he excuses himself as he brings you to stop in front of the ring. “Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly.”

Once the man is gone you approach the ring, and prop your arms on the fence to lean forward and watch with interest as a shirtless man rides around in his white horse.

“So what?” Marc interjects. “This joker just puts on El-Marmah games in his backyard, for fun?”

He can if he wants to, you think to yourself as you watch him with a sly smirk.

“No, he gets private lessons by the best in his backyard,” Layla corrects Marc, whilst you see as the man brings his beautiful white horse to a stop to hop off and get his fancy red robe put on him.

There’s just something about hot older men that have a way to just turn you on. Mr. Mogart definitely is one of those men.

“Cool,” Marc comments. “I like the robe.”

“Layla,” Mr. Mogart addresses her with a charming smile. “Come in.”

Layla leads the way, and Marc and you follow after her.

“Such a delight to see you,” he continues.

“You too,” Layla says.

“How have you been?” He asks as he takes her hand so elegantly.

“Good,” Layla responds as Mogart presses a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for having us over on such short notice.” She pulls her hand away and the man does not drop his smile.

“Oh, please,” he assures her. “I hope you realize you need no excuse to drop by.”

Layla then proceeds to turn to Marc and pats his shoulder to introduce him, causing Mogart to look over at him as she did. “This is my husband, Rufino.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marc responds and offers Mogart his hand.

“Pleasure. Oh right,” the man mutters and wipes his hands on his robe to shake Marc’s hand.

“And that’s my step-daughter,” Layla points to you as you stand beside Marc. “Y/N.”

The man steps away from Marc and offers you a much kinder and much more charming smile than the one he offered Marc.

“Hello, it’s nice meeting you,” you greet with a smile of your own.

And as you stretch out your hand Mogart takes it and leans down to press a kiss on your knuckles. “Delight,” he says, causing you to smile wider and hold his gaze.

Meanwhile, Marc beside you was slowly furrowing his eyebrows and trying not to pierce daggers into the man with his glare.

“I hope you understand this is more than a collection to me,” Mogart tells Layla as he lets you go and turns to walk you away from the ring. “Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

Layla sighs. “A self-appointed responsibility that you alone were able to enjoy, no?” She asks.

And once you walk out of the ring with Mogart, the men that were inside continue with their game.

“Well,” Mogart answers. “I prefer to see it as a philanthropic effort at preservation. Now if I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?” He asks as he brings you to stop in front of a small glass pyramid that has what Marc is looking for inside.

“Oh, actually our purchases are—”

“I’m sorry,” Mogart cuts Layla off before she can finish her explanation. “I’d like to hear from your husband, if you don’t mind.”

He’s playing with her.

Marc hums, and Mogart hums in agreement as he folds his arms over his chest and waits.

“I think that…” Marc begins to say. “But I think I just would love to take a look.”

Mogart keeps quiet for a moment before commenting, “funny man.”

You keep your gaze on him for a moment to try and figure him out, to try and read what he’s playing at, but you get interrupted by Layla grabbing your arm to pull you inside the pyramid.

“Please, just let Steven out before you blow this,” Layla tells Marc as you walk to Senfu.

“Not a chance,” Marc retorts. “All right, what do you see?”

You begin to walk around as you study the sarcophagus, noticing text carved on the wood.

“Well,” Layla answers before you can. “The burial practices are in line with the Studenwachen texts.”

“The what?” Marc questions.

“It’s legit,” you answer as you come to stop to look inside, noticing something over the corpse.

“But all I see is literature to guide the dead,” Layla adds. “There’s no location indicated.”

You sigh and point to the dark material within. “Don’t think it’d be that easy. Must be uh, coded or something, right, with this?”

“Okay, uh,” Marc cuts in. “Will you guys give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven…just keep him occupied.”

So it is real. Is it? This Steven character.

Nevertheless, after some hesitance you end up trusting him and walk off with Layla to rejoin the men watching from the outside.

“He just needs a couple minutes in there alone,” Layla tries to explain. The guard tries to walk in, but she grabs his arm and pulls him back. “Please, yeah. He is…he’s praying,” she excuses his actions.

When you look over you see him talking to himself with his back turned, so you understand why it’d look weird, why the guard continues watching him without as much as listening to what Layla has to say. Nor does Mogart actually pay any attention to her or you whatsoever anymore.

Furthermore, before you the guard doesn’t wait and departs from the group.

“Wait,” you try to stop him, but he doesn’t stop, he walks in the pyramid.

When you go in after him he immediately pulls out his gun. “What are you doing?” He demands to know from Marc.

You try to pull apart your bracelets but as Marc hears, he instantly turns and manages to steal the gun and point it at the guard instead, causing more guards to point guns at both Layla and you in retaliation, and forcing you to stop from grabbing your own weapons.

“Marc!” Layla exclaims, “don’t.”

Said man looks over and his eyes widen as he sees what unfolded.

“Shit,” he hisses and hands the guard his gun back, letting one guard point at both Layla and you so he the other could walk over to Marc, before finally letting Mogart walk in after Marc.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” Mogart spats. “Get on your knees.”

“Anton, stop!” Layla tries to talk him down.

But Mogart ignores her. “Get on your knees,” he repeats himself. And to your surprise Marc does as he’s told—“Layla,” Mogart says and looks back at her. “I was so ready to make peace with you.”

The guard behind you nudges both Layla and you inside with his gun high, causing you to peer back and glare at him.

“You don’t understand,” Layla rebuttals. “We’re trying to save many lives.”

There’s four guards in here with guns, Mogart is too pretty to be holding anything, so it’s just the four guns. You have weapons, Layla also has her own daggers, and Marc has the suit so it can be manageable, you can take ‘em together if you try.

“Hey, pal,” Marc interjects. “Take a look inside the sarcophagus.” Marc points his head to said object. “There’s somethin’ really, really big.”

Mogart slowly gets closer, but his guard then walks to him and whispers something in his ear that makes him turn to look at the three of you.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Mogart says a bit smugly. “It appears we have a concerned third party here.” He begins to walk out now. “Get up.” He orders Marc

Said man does as he’s told, and as you all get walked out, there walking towards you is the same older gentleman from before, Arthur Harrow Marc said his name was.

“Whatever they’ve told you,” he adds. “I’m sure I can offer you something much more tangible.”

Sure just like how he offered that poor old man food and shelter only to kill him. So much for justice. He’s nothing but an evil old man.

Regardless, Harrow shows off the scarab in his hand. “Why settle for a clue when you have the treasure,” he continues to try and convince Mogart.

“Anton,” Layla tries to talk to him. “Anton, don’t listen to this man. He’s trying to stop us from reaching—”

“Please, stop,” Mogart cuts her off as he turns swiftly to point at her.

“He’s gonna kill millions, trust her!” You exclaim out of annoyance that he was being so ignorant.

Mogart glances at you and then glares at Layla. “Do you seriously want me to trust you, Layla?”

“Please,” Harrow interrupts, making you groan—“there’s no need to descend into violent accusations. Each one of you has so much more in common than you know. Layla, you keep thinking that distance will prevent the wounds from your fathers murder from reopening. But something stands in your way. Your husband doesn’t tell you the truth.”

You look between Layla and Marc in confusion and worry, hoping that what this man was talking about was out of his ass to just turn them against each other.

“And Marc,” Harrow continues to say and creates more tension. “You don’t tell her because you know if you do, she’ll see you exactly as you see yourself, as unworthy of love.”

“You piece of shit—”

“You distance yourself from your daughter,” Harrow cuts him off, making your breath catch and your eyes narrow. “In hopes that will keep her safe from that within, when reality that’s not what will destroy her, but yourself.” His eyes slide to you and he tilts his head. “And you, you use violence to silence the pain your father caused, but there's also a small part of you that enjoys it. That control. Just like him.”

The balls on this man.

You scoff and narrow your glare on him. “You fucking piece of shit,” you grumble, but he just ingores you and turns to Mogart.

“Anton,” he says and lifts his cane that begins to glow purple once again. Just like last time. “The lore surrounding these relics, I offer proof that it’s real.” He begins to walk ahead and continues to speak. “This sarcophagus does not belong to anyone.”

Suddenly as the man stops speaking the lights around begin to flicker, and the breeze begins to pick up.

“Anton,” Harrow speaks, “would you like to see for yourself?”

“Yes. I do.”

Mogart’s response let’s Harrow begin to chant, it makes the wind blow harder, the lights flicker with more urgency it seems, and that purple hue begins to grow brighter and surrounds the sarcophagus before destroying it.

“That's just a taste of the godly power I offer.” Harrow says as he continues to walk away.

Nevertheless, it’s while you were busy focusing on what was happening around you that you don’t notice Marc disappear until people from within the ring point it out.

However, you don’t lose him for long because as you look up at what stands on top of a glass pyramid, you see Marc in his suit.

He’s there, looking down at everyone, and you can’t help but smile.

Nevertheless, since everyone else sees him, Mogart is taken away, the guards around you lift their guns to shoot. But Marc quickly throws one dagger and takes out the guard by Layla, leaving the one still pointing his gun at you.

It seems that Marc is going to jump down and attack him that way, but the man instead hooks his arm around your throat and presses his gun at your head. “I will shoot her!” He bellows and begins to step back.

Marc lands on the ground and pulls out two more crescent moon daggers, whilst Layla begins to approach with a gun she grabs from the ground.

“Back off!” The guard yells at Layla and points his gun at her too, making Layla stop in her tracks.

“Please,” you feign a shaky voice and slowly begin to raise your hands in the air. “Please let me go.”

“Tell him to—”

Before he can finish his demands you flip the blade hidden in your ring and stab his jaw, making him groan and step back as he grabs his bleeding wound. You then spin around and kick him in the gut before pulling out the dagger from your bracelet and slicing his throat.

When the man falls you pick his gun off the ground, and then turn to see Marc’s glowing white eyes slightly widened.

“G-Cool,” he stammers.

You shoot him a smirk before you catch a line of guards approaching from the ring. When Layla notices she grabs your hand and pulls you towards Marc as he pulls his cloak around the both of you as the bullets fire…without as much as making a hole.

“Buy me some time,” Layla tells Marc.

Said man, without hesitation assures her, “I can do that.”

He then pulls away and twirls around to throw daggers at most of them out of his cape, before throwing his crescent daggers at the stragglers, leaving you in awe.

Layla then tries to take you with her, but you pull your hand away from her grip and shake your head. “No,” you protest. “Go, I'll stay here with him.”

Layla tries to argue but you turn away before she can and follow after Marc.

“What are you doing?!” He shouts when he notices you.

You lift your earphones and put them in your ears. “Helping,” you retort. You then turn your music on before jumping over the fence and throwing out a small explosive at the group of approaching guards, whilst Marc takes down more by himself.

Of course before you vanished into nothing but a pile of dust, Marc told you about his alter ego Moon Knight, who was brought thanks to Khonshu. But you never got to witness his capabilities. Marc always tried to tell you but stories aren’t the same as actually witnessing it for yourself. And now that you see him you can’t help but feel that same awe you felt when he’d tell you.

It’s not something you wouldn’t tell him though. Not anymore. Nor will you let him catch the awe on your face, so before he can see any sort of reaction, you use your gun and shoot at two approaching men, before Marc covers you and throws daggers at the other two that began to shoot.

More come from behind so you break away from Marc and pick up a spear from the ground to hurl it one before throwing a paralyzing gadget at the other three. One man tries to sneak up behind you, but you catch a glimpse of him and throw your elbow back on his nose before twirling around and slamming your bracelet on his neck to electrocute him, before using your ring to cut his throat.

As he falls to the ground you turn and see that Marc is getting overwhelmed, even more guards come out from who knows where and all continue to try to surround him, and you. Mostly him, so you look around for something else to use to help him, and actually see a horse someone abandoned still tied at a pole by the fence.

Alas, on your run to the horse one guy tries to rush you, while another tries to shoot you. But the one with the gun out gets a crescent dagger thrown to his chest, letting you use the gun to shoot at the one running at you.

After that you make it to the horse without an obstacle, but the horse gets spooked, and when it sees you approach it exclaims and jumps up on its back legs.

“It’s okay,” you try to assure the horse and throw your hands out. “Shh, it’s okay, I just…want to help,” you continue and slowly step towards the rope.

The horse gets back on all fours but fidgets. Yet it doesn’t try to kick you when you untie it, it stays put and lets you approach it—“that’s a good horse,” you whisper and brush your hand on its side before climbing on. “Now, let’s go take out those bad men.”

A smirk plays on your lips, and as you get the horse to run forward, as you feel the breeze on your face, you begin to grin and keep your eyes on Marc, and those guards who wants to kill you both. As you approach the spear you hurled at one guard, you throw your hand out and grab it, but as you try to pull it out of his body as the horse runs ahead, you almost get your arm ripped out of your freaking socket.

“Oh by the—fuck,” you grumble and roll your shoulder back. “Mother fuck—”

Nevertheless, you brush your pain aside and make the horse run faster. As you approach Marc, you lift your arm and smirk mischievously before you throw it at the man he had behind him.

Marc tries to look over as he notices but another guard tries to take him from the front and distracts him. So you nonetheless have your back turned to him as the horse continues forward. When you turn, you see Marc in a different outfit, in the plain white suit.

“All right, time out!” He shouts in the british accent—Steven. “That’s it, time out! Guys, let’s all calm down, yeah? We’re all worked up! Let’s all just, like, chill the F out and talk for a second…” Before he can finish, his spear gets thrown at his back. Another man on a horse comes racing past you and stabs another spear in him.

When you get close to him again he suddenly changes again and he’s in his previous outfit with the cloak on.

You would’ve asked why the sudden change, but there’s no time now, so you make the horse run faster and head towards the man on the other horse. He sees you approaching him and raises his spear as he makes own horse sprint towards you.

One of the other men nearby rushes you and ends up pulling you off the horse. When you hit the ground you land on the man. He tries to push you off, but you slam your bracelet on his neck and electrocute him first before punching him and knocking him out.

Now albeit, when you stand to your feet, the man on the horse comes running at you. He lifts his spear, but you raise your gun and shoot him first, leaving no one in front of you so you turn.

However, when you do turn, you see Marc with spears all over his body, and see Layla get cut by Mogart.

“Layla!” Marc shouts before you could.

You try to run to her, but Mogart grabs a spear and turns on his horse to face Layla now. Meanwhile, Marc was on the floor with the spears still on him.

There was a choice to make, help Marc so he can help Layla, or help her and risk Mogart getting her first.

No matter what jealousy brewed by the attention Marc was just giving her and the apology he gave her first, you love her too much to lose her, so you make your choice and run to Marc. There were only three men, so you raise your gun and shoot, but find the gun without bullets, so you just throw it out and grab your dagger to hurl at one man’s back.

The second one on Marc’s side looks over and grabs his gun to shoot at you; and he actually does shoot a bullet, but you slide down on your feet and use your last dagger and hurl at him.

He deflects it and continues to shoot, but Marc then uses the man’s own spear and pushes him back before turning to get the other.

And while Marc is distracted on the third man, the second one tries to cut him, but you pull your dagger out of the other man’s body and throw it at his hand this time, causing him to drop the spear. You then pick his gun off the ground and shoot him just as Marc turns to deal with him.

Marc then looks over at you and you meet his glowing gaze, and in between pants point to Mogart with your head. “Go.” You mouth.

Without a second to waste Marc turns and breaks into a sprint towards Layla. Mogart does the same. But just before Mogart reaches Layla, Marc grabs her in time and flips her over, forcing Mogart to continue running ahead, this time towards you.

His eyes then proceed to fall on you, but you don’t move and just hold his gaze with a scowl since you see Marc throw his dagger at him.

Mogart furrows his eyebrows in confusion at your reaction, but in that moment before he can even try and hurt you, the dagger stabs him in the back and he goes on ahead and leaves you.

When he’s out of sight and no longer a threat, you pick up your daggers and clip it back on your wrist before heading towards Layla and Marc.

“Y/N, are you okay?!” Marc asks as he turns to meet you halfway once he’s secured Layla.

“Yeah,” you assure him without the attitude. When he reaches you and you both stop, he grabs your shoulders and makes his mask disappear so his face is visible now.

“Are you okay?” He asks again and scans you for any injuries.

You look at his hands before you meet his gaze and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I told you,” you pant. “I can protect myself.”

Marc cups your cheek with one hand, making you stiffen and avert your gaze to look over at Layla now. Once she meets your gaze you quickly pull away from Marc and run to her.

“Layla,” you exclaim, and quickly grab her arms once you reach her. “Are you okay?”

Said woman nods and grabs your wrists to redirect your question. “Are you okay?”

You offer her a half smile and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good. I'm glad. I’m proud.”

You smile wider and let her go to turn and face Marc as he approaches the both of you.

“Do you have it?” He directs at Layla.

“Yeah,” she assures him. “We need a car.”

He nods. “Yeah, come on.”

——

*LATER*

You: You’ll get a name when you give me yours so for now I’ll just tell you my name is wolf.

You press send without regret and wait now, hope Spider-Man might answer back—given you were going to answer earlier but well the fight happened.

“Ay,” you hear Marc comment from the front of a…borrowed car. “I really liked that jacket.” He throws his jacket back over the pile of backpacks set beside you, and turns his neck to steal one glance at you before turning back again.

“What was Harrow talking about?” Layla asks Marc, and you lower your music as your interest is piqued.

“What do you mean?” Marc asks as he takes off his shirt.

“He said I had a right to know,” Layla adds.

“I have no idea,” he assures her as he throws his shirt back before you catch him, from the corner of your eyes, pointing at his bag. “Y/N, pass me the white hoodie in my bag.”

You put your phone down and pretend to be uninterested as you reach over and unzip his backpack.

“I never told anyone why I really moved,” Layla says, whilst you pull out what he asked for as he answers her.

“I don’t know, he’s just trying to mess with you….”

Your phone vibrates with an incoming message so you quickly push the hoodie to Marc to pick up your phone, noticing it was Spidey, and going unaware that Marc lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer before turning away.

“…you know he’s trying to get in your mind. No, don’t let him do that. You know he’s got this idea that can see the true nature of people or some baloney like that. If that were true, I don’t think he’d have a bunch of homicidal maniacs as his disciples, would he?” Marc finishes saying while you unlock your phone to read the message.

Unknown

Alright, fair. That’s fair. By the way, wolf is a cool name, or alias or whatever.

You scoff softly in amusement and continue to listen to the conversation happening from the front of the car.

“So, it’s not true?” Layla asks Marc. “What he said about you and…”

“No, it’s not true, of course not,” Marc cuts her off to assure her. “No, he’s just trying to divide us. Don’t let him get in your head.”

So what Harrow said about Marc and you, what is it? Is it true? Or is it a lie?

If it was a lie though, why would he say that Marc is trying to protect you from the bastard god that has him imprisoned?

Maybe he’s just trying to get your hopes up to then get them crushed when Marc reveals the actual truth that he doesn’t care.

Maybe that’s it. Which would prove your grandmother right.

“Every time I learn something new about you,” Layla adds. “I think, “that’s it. There can’t possibly be any secrets left between us.” And then something else pops up, and it’s like I’ve not known you at all.”

“Yeah,” Marc doesn’t fret to agree. “You haven’t. You don’t.”

As conflicted as you currently felt, you know for sure that what he said now to Layla was rude. She doesn’t deserve that even if it might be true.

Which is why you get discouraged to bring up your own questions on the same Harrow regard. Marc would just turn you down, lie. There’s no point. So you leave it alone and get back to answering the message.

You

Thanks :) Now tell me Spider-Man and be honest are you an old weird man? Cause yes I might be into older men but I need to know who I’m talking to. Weird? Perv? Too young?

You leave the message app and turn up your music, you look up again and now see both Layla and Marc as far as apart as they can be. Layla's eyes are watery, and Marc wears an…upset frown on his face as he stares out the window.

Now you feel shame for feeling happy that they had gotten into an argument earlier.

Yet deep down not really. Part of you…that deep flawed part of you doesn’t want them to reconcile, to be happy, not until he can talk to you first, not until he apologizes to you first. No matter how much you do love Layla.

Is that bad? Does it make you a bad friend? A bad step daughter? An even worse daughter?

Maybe. But you can’t deny what you feel.

Regardless, your phone vibrates and a message from Spidey pops up.

Unknown

No to your first two questions. At least I don’t think I’m weird. But I’ll tell you my age when you do. Cat burglar.

You scoff and don’t wait now, you’re too intrigued.

You

I TOLD YOU! I DO NOT STEAL! everything I take is already stolen and sold on the black market. I just steal from the actual stealers and return the items to their rightful owners.

And! no. You’re a man, I know men. I’ll take my caution. Tell me your age first.

As you wait now, you glance up to try and look out the window, to try and watch the stars, and the moon follow the car, but you end up catching Marc’s stare through his side-view mirror.

“Tell me you’re not actually texting that spider guy,” he says when you catch his stare. He then turns around on his seat to look at you.

You scoff and blink in disbelief before you narrow your glare on him. “Why should it matter?” You snap.

“Why—because y/n he can be a creep, you don’t know him!” He argues.

You pull out one earphone and quickly defend yourself. “If he was a creep would he go on saving people. And think about it, when you meet someone, you initially don’t know—”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t give me that crap. I don’t want you texting him.”

You feign a laugh and shake your head. “I am nineteen now, I can text who I want. And please don’t you give me that dad crap because you will not like where I’ll take it. Unless you want to talk about shit?” You wait and hold his gaze for him to say something, anything. But he just presses his lips togehter and sighs.

You wait longer, for a moment longer in hopes he’d add anything, but he continues to keep quiet and turns back around.

“Exactly,” you grumble, and ignore your eyes beginning to sting and just put your earphone back on to blast music in your ears to block him out.

When you look down at your phone you see Spider-Man had texted you back.

Unknown

I’m 19. Now you. I need to know who I’m talking to.

You let out all your frustration through a deep breath and answer him.

You

I’m also 19. Yet I’m not so convinced about you.

A couple minutes pass and a message is sent back.

Unknown

Well, girl who gave me her number without knowing me I don’t know what to say

You’re gonna have to trust to me

You slowly smile at your phone and counter his comment

You

Will I regret it? Be honest.

This time when you wait, he takes longer to respond. You try not to let it get to you. You try not to get anxious and check your screen in hopes you just didn’t feel your phone vibrate, or maybe while you were checking the message somehow hid from you.

You try to watch the stars that you pass, the glowing moon that follows the car—

Perhaps it’s the time difference. Maybe he’s working, in school. Or…maybe he fell asleep.

Maybe you came on too strong? Or—

You break from your train of thought as you feel your phone vibrate. When you check you see that it was him.

He did respond.

Unknown

I don’t know

You hum at his response but find it intriguing so you answer.

You

Okay, Spidey, I’ll risk it.

You smirk and look up, noticing now that everything around you was darker as the city lights began to get further and further the deeper you drove into the desert. Now all that basked the car and your surroundings was the car's headlights, and the stars and moon’s hue that was nothing compared to London, Chicago or New York’s stars and moon shine.

Out here, even if it was in the middle of nowhere the stars shone a lot brighter, more beautiful. The Milky Way was actually visible from the desert.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you mumble as you shut the car door and look up at the night sky.

“Until you get lost,” Marc mutters while he pulls out something from his backpack before shutting his door and joining Layla at the hood of the car to begin piecing together some sort of astrological map.

However, it doesn’t turn out to be so easy, seconds turn to minutes, and minutes turn to an hour.

“Try that,” Marc tells Layla as he hands her a piece.

Layla tapes it to the other piece and then adds, “maybe, actually.”

“This one?” Marc suggests as he hands her another larger piece.

Layla takes it and presses it down. “Uh…no. Anything else?”

“I’m not getting any whole constellations,” Marc says. “It’s just little pieces and fragments.” He then proceeds to slam his hands on the hood out of frustration. He sighs and walks by you. “This is gonna take forever,” he adds.

You sigh and look up at the sky before you look down at Marc. “Maybe Steven can come out?” You suggest and begin to swing your feet from where you sit on the hood of the car.

Marc sighs and picks up head to look over at you.

“From what I’ve gathered he has a good understanding of all of this,” you continue. “I think it’s worth giving him a shot so we don’t waste more time.”

Marc stays quiet and hesitates, making Layla interject. “Marc, we can’t wait. It’s okay, just let go. We don’t have time.”

Marc suddenly groans and storms over to rip the side view mirror off the car and take it with him as he suddenly walks over to grab all the pieces off the hood without any sort of explanation.

“What are you doing?” Layla questions.

Marc continues not to answer and walks away from the car. He doesn’t walk far but in the spot he stops at he dumps out all of his stuff before looking through the side mirror he ripped out.

“What’s going on?” You question as both Layla and you continue to watch him.

Layla sighs and shrugs, whilst you see Marc get down on his knees and stick the pieces together. Which meant…he was Steven now?

You slide off the hood and begin to slowly follow Layla towards…Steven.

“…I don’t need that,” you hear him whisper as you approach him.

Layla gets down on her knees beside him and calls him out, “Steven?”

Said man turns and looks at her. His gaze lingers for a brief second before he interjects, “Egyptians invented modern navigation.” He pulls out more tape and bends down. “There’s not a lot of landmarks in the desert. So they came up with a way to get about using the sun and the stars. It’s bloody genius, isn’t it?”

It’s weird now, now that you’re grasping that your dad has alters, that Steven is an alter born out of a dissociative identity disorder. It’s just that’s the only thing that explains this accent, this change, and the fact that he knew nothing about you.

It’s something you’ve seen on tv, you’ve read in textbooks, but you never imagined you’d actually meet someone that has multiple personalities. So it’s weird because his face is your dad, a man you’ve known for nineteen years, but this accent, this completely different personality is a different person.

It’s weird to get used to. And it’s especially hard not to be mad at him because Steven does carry the same face as Marc.

How does Layla do it? How can she differentiate them so quickly?

“Et voila,” Steven says and shows off the map pieces he turned to a star.

“Whoa,” Layla gasps and takes it from him.

“It’s French,” Steven mumbles as he can’t take his eyes off her.

Layla laughs. “I know.” Her gaze lingers on him before she looks back to show you the star-shaped map.

You get closer and squint your eyes, and find yourself actually smiling in awe as you can actually see the constellation.

“So,” you add. “What do we do with it?”

“Well,” Steve says and takes the star back. “I’m not sure, but if…” he moves it and then puts it against the light. “Hand on a minute. You see that? You see those little pinpricks there? That’s a constellation.”

“We should be able to triangulate the stars into coordinates, right?” Layla asks and pulls up her tablet. “Let me just scan it.”

You scoff. “I don’t think it’s gonna work,” you point out and prop your hand on your hip. “You see if you think about it, uh—”

“It’s not working,” Layla mumbles and puts down the tablet.

“Yes, no it won’t,” you explain to her. “The stars drift over time, not so much, but what was in the sky then won’t be the same now. But it could mean the difference between us searching miles and miles away from where we’re supposed to be looking.”

Layla smiles, and Steven grins as he nods in agreement. “Yes!” He exclaims. “Yes, so basically, Senfu marked that tomb, like, two thousand years ago. So unless we know exactly what the sky looked like on that date, we’re beggard.”

You sigh, “yeah.” You look away from the map and look back at Steven, noticing that he seemed to be a thousand miles away himself now.

“Steven?” You call out softly and follow his line of gaze, seeing nothing.

Said man looks back at you and Layla and points ahead. He begins to walk off and Layla and you follow. Albeit you follow with more caution than she does.

Once you reach a sandy hill, Steven calls out. “Khonshu?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the sound of the name and you continue to watch Steven until suddenly the air begins to pick up and sand rolls back.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

Yet you get no answer, instead Steven puts his arms out, looks up at the sky and gets his suit on.

You glance down at Layla and she glances up at Steven. When you look at him again he has hands up and suddenly purple begins to color the night sky before the stars begin to spin around, as if it’s some earth globe.

“What,” you gasp in awe and feel shivers down your spine. The sky turns brighter and spins faster until suddenly it stops and the constellation from the map shows up on the sky.

“That’s it,” you mumble and watch Layla lift the tablet to record it.

“This is surprisingly painful,” Steven comments.

“It’s working,” Layla mentions and begins to walk around him to get the entire constellation overhead.

“I can feel my energy leaving me,” Steven groans, and you see his mask disappear from his face, whilst the stars in the sky begin to shake—“oh, god, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

You look back at Layla and see that it’s almost complete. “Just hold on, a while longer,” you assure him.

Seconds later the computerized voice speaks the coordinates.

“I got it,” Layla exclaims. “29 degrees north, 25 east.”

Steven falls on his hands and knees and groans in pain, causing you to rush over to him to help him up, whilst his outfit completely disappears and the sky turns back to normal.

However, Steven falls again and you fall to your knees with him, noticing now that he went unconscious.

“Da—Steven?” You call, and Layla rushes over to help you flip him over. “Steven,” you try again and pick up his head. “Hey. Steven? Dad? Come on. Come on.” Your voice begins to quiver and your eyes begin to sting. “Come on.”

“Steven?” Layla calls out too and brushes back his hair. “Marc? Where are you?”

He continues to lay unconscious and his pulse feels weak.

“Hey,” you call out quieter. “Come on. Wake up. Please.” Your heart begins to race, and your stomach begins to churn as your mind races with the worst. “Wake the hell up!”

“Let’s take him to the car,” Layla says and walks to grab his legs, whilst you grab him from his arms to begin slowly carrying him down the sandy hill to reach the car.

Albeit, you don’t end up making it far at all because different car headlights show up whilst an engine is heard nearby.

“Shit,” you hiss and get down to begin carrying your fathers body that way.

Yet guns begin to get fired, so you have to let go so he can roll down and get down faster. His body then ends up tripping Layla and she rolls down with him.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaim as you slide down the sandy hill.

The car begins to drive down so you break into a sprint and almost trip on your way down. Luckily you don’t roll down and end up stumbling close to Layla.

“Explosive,” she whispers. “They have explosives in the back of the car.”

You look over and see them beginning to turn.

“Go,” you urge her. “I’ll stay back with him.”

Without a second thought Layla begins to sprint over. The moment she makes it to the car the other car turns and begins to head towards her, making you clench your jaw and dig your nails in your palms.

You see Layla opening the trunk, but you also hear people speaking in Arabic as they drive closer. Once they begin to drive towards the trunk you hold your breath and let your body slide down a little bit.

Nevertheless, they don’t get off or spot her, they continue to turn and point their lights in your direction, so you gasp softly and lay on the ground to close your eyes and pretend to be dead.

They don’t seem to get out of the car but they also don’t fucking leave. Albeit you do hear one scream before they smack their car and finally turn away. As you look up you see them facing Layla holding a red match before they begin to shoot and drive towards her.

You want to yell out to get their attention, but Layla then gets down and hides the light, making them stop shooting and drive closer. And the moment they’re closer, Layla crawls to the other side and lights another match to throw it in their trunk and set off their explosives. Finally making them stop.

“What’s—”

At the sound of Steven’s voice you gasp and jump back. “<What the hell is your fucking problem?>” You swear off in Spanish as you clutch onto your chest and push yourself to your feet.

“Did I scare you?” Steven asks as he follows you towards Layla. “I'm so sorry!”

You wave him off and let out a deep breath as you head back towards your seat in the back, missing the way Steven stares at Layla in awe until she comments on it. “What?”

Is it weird to be confused about their relationship? It feels like Steven is being weird with Layla since she is married, but at the same time she is married to him…his body, his face, so is it weird to be rooting for their reconcile and at the same time their downfall?

Ah. It’s too confusing.

Music should help.

Yet…

“What are you listening to?” Steven asks as he crawls into the back with you.

“Uh,” you hum as you watch him struggle to swing his legs over. “Just, uhm,” you mumble and lean back so you don’t get hit by his body. “Yep, just….”

He falls on the bags and groans softly before turning around and pushing the things aside to sit down.

“Okay,” you laugh softly. “Yep.”

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly.

You glance at him and then back at your phone and nod slowly. “Hi,” you say back.

“So, what you listening to?” He presses.

You sigh and turn your phone on to show him the song that popped up first when you hit play.

“Ah, This Feeling by Alabama shakes, cool. That’s cool.”

“One of my favorites,” you mumble.

“You know,” he scoffs lightheartedly. “I really like this song called, Lobo-hombre en Paris by, uh, La Unión.”

You lick your lips and look up at him. “Really?” You probe. “That’s crazy, that's one of my favorites…”

You heard it from Marc actually.

“Oh, really?!” Steven exclaims. “That’s so cool! Cool.” He nods.

You hum and sigh softly, whilst Steven rummages through his jacket pocket until he pulls out something small.

“I think,” he interjects, “this belongs to you. Maybe.” He opens his fist, and there on his palm is a small carved wooden wolf. It was once yours, it was a gift from Marc.

“Uh...” you swallow thickly, and pull your headphones off. “Yeah. Well it was mine.”

He hums and holds it between his fingers to study the gray and brown wooden wolf. “I’ve always carried it with me, I never remember how I got it, but one thing I did know is that it helped me feel…safe. Calm. So I made sure never to lose it.”

Your eyes and throat begin to sting, and suddenly you feel at a loss for words

“I think it’s yours though,” he continues to add. “I mean because Layla calls you wolf, like the animal, so I assume—”

“Again, it was mine,” you interject. “I gave it back to Marc a long time ago. When he was leaving to one of his many trips around the world,” you begin to say and take the wooden wolf from Steven. “I told him it would keep him safe and that it would be like taking me with him wherever he went. Because I remembered that when he gave it to me he said that he picked it out because it reminded him of me. I was around five, so you can imagine how happy that made me.” You sniffle and hand it back to Steven. “Now, you keep it.”

Steven shakes his head and tries to give it back, but you close his hand around the wooden wolf and offer him a soft smile.

“Keep it,” you assure him. “It will continue to keep you calm. And so you can remember me.” You grin.

“But,” he tries to interject. “It’s from your dad. Which oddly enough your dad is…me? My body?”

You giggle. “Yeah, it’s confusing, but just keep it, please. I want you to keep it. It’ll keep you safe.”

Steven holds your gaze for a second before he sighs and nods with a faint smile on his face. “Thanks,” he whispers.

The sight of his face makes you want to punch him less, but he still is your dad so your anger isn’t actually gone completely.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “For the way I acted with you before. You’re obviously not Marc, so my anger is not directed towards you. I’m sorry for being an ass.”

Steven scoffs softly and shakes his head. “No, don't worry about it. I get it. Marc is an arse.”

You nod softly in agreement.

“Can I ask, what did he do? What happened?”

Your eyes flicker down and a shaky sigh escapes past your lips. “Don’t…don’t worry about it,” you deflect his question. “It wasn’t you.” You offer him one last smile before you put your earphones back on and continue to listen to music as you continue towards the tomb.

Unbeknownst to you, while you apologized to Steven, as you warmed up to him, Marc from within was growing jealous that it wasn’t him who you were talking to; that talking to you couldn’t be as easy as Steven was making it out to be.

A/N- Now is y/n’s fascination with older men because of her daddy issues or because it might be leading to something else? 🤔

Tagged: @broadwaytraaaaash

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positivelyholland · 2 years

Note

marc / steven / jake x daughter!reader whos dating peter parker aka spiderman in secret 😳 and they caught you on a hot moment… i think jake would straight go for peters head

yah jake would have no mercy... marc would also beat the shit out of peter but he would at least give him a head start, and steven would just go into protective dad mode and would try to be initmidating but he's secretly happy that his daughter found someone that makes her happy but if he finds out that someone broke his daughter's heart, he would definitely beat peter up too. i do think marc would be the one who warms up to the idea that his daughter has a boyfriend the quickest, but i don't know really

#marc spector x daughter!reader #moon knight #steven grant x daughter!reader #positively holland #jake lockely x daughter!reader #jake lockely #marc spector x teen!reader #marc spector

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

Text

Close Encounters of the Maternal Kind

Summary: In which your mom almost finds you with Steven’s head up your shirt.

This is set within my other fic THE SHAPE OF YOU which is helpful to read first but not necessary!

Pairing: Steven x afab!reader here, though Reader is married to the system so background Marc x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2.4k (which for me is a drabble)

TW/CW: Lactation kink (shocker, I know), fluff, dirty talk, teasing, and a touch of softdom!reader, maybe a little exhibitionism too because our lovely couple almost gets caught?

A/N: AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND ATTENTION EVERYONE HAS SHOWN SHAPE OF YOU!! So glad I’m not the only fan of Steven being a fan of your boobs out there!! Hope y’all enjoy, and if everyone keeps up the love, I’ll keep writing for this boy and this kink!

“Oh wow, well done Nyla!” Steven cheered from his seat next to you as he watched with sheer pride and delight as she breastfed from you.

Getting your newborn daughter to latch had been an ongoing struggle, one that had threatened to completely spin you out in your sleep-deprived, postpartum state. Yet ever since the entrance of Pippa, your obstetrician-recommended lactation specialist, breastfeeding had gone much more smoothly.

“For the love of God, Steven, don’t film this,” you chided in a loving but exasperated tone when your husband whipped out his phone.

“Why not? These are precious memories,” he contended, “not to mention a major moment in Nyla’s development.”

You grinned and allowed him to keep recording, sometimes your Steven was just too earnest for his own good.

“She is doing rather spectacularly” you admitted, sending an absolutely besotted gaze to your little daughter. “Just don’t show anyone this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steven averred, “I promise. Well, other than Marc and Jake, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeated softly.

You lapsed into silence, both of you rapt watching your baby girl. These were the moments you loved the most, just the three of you, enjoying something quiet and simple, qualities you’d learned not to take for granted since Nyla’s arrival. It felt as if her cries echoed nonstop in your head, and your stomach still clenched in apprehension every time you held Nyla to your bosom to feed, afraid that all the progress you’d made with Pippa would be lost.

But nothing was better than this, you decided: your little family safe, healthy, and happy. Nyla pulled off of you when she was done, and you readjusted your shirt so you could put her on your shoulder to burp her.

“I can do that,” Steven offered.

“It’s alright honey, I want to,” you told him. “Feel like I need to be close with her for a little while longer, Pippa said it’s good for us.”

He relented, instead using the time to tidy up the place. Thanks to your parents being in town it no longer looked like a bomb site. You paced around the flat while you coaxed a burp from Nyla.

“Did your parents say when they’d be over?” Steven asked.

“No. They said they wanted to check out the gallery at Dulwich but that’s–-oh good girl!”

Nyla had awarded you with a burp, which meant you could put her down to nap. Steven bided his time with the new information as you got your daughter settled. The gallery would take a solid while, plus if they walked around the park and stopped for lunch, Steven should have at least another hour alone with you.

He smiled when you tiptoed out of Nyla’s nursery, pantomiming victory after she fell asleep. Steven couldn’t help but laugh at your little charade.

Steven drew you into his arms. “We’re starting to get the parenting thing down, I think.”

“Too early to say,” you hedged, “but her eating and going down that easily was a definite win.”

Steven kissed you, unhurried and indulgent. You hadn’t kissed each other like this in forever.

“Hi,” he whispered, his lips lingering millimeters from you.

“Hi,” you bit your lip, a stupidly wide grin on your lips.

That was all you needed to to recapture one another’s lips. It was as if you were just seeing each other as people rather than exhausted, harried partners trying to keep a tiny, helpless being alive. Steven’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, yet he flinched away reflexively when the wet spot on your shirt pressed against his.

“Oh shit,” you apologized immediately, “sorry.”

Steven wasn’t offended in the slightest, instead he gave you a heavy-lidded, suggestive look. “Care for some help with that?”

Recently, accidentally, you and Steven had discovered you shared a bit of a lactation kink before Pippa had helped you get Nyla latch. Your husband had always been your tits’ number one fan, so when Nyla was born and struggled to breastfeed, Steven happily volunteered to relieve you when your breasts became too engorged.

Turns out you’d both gotten off on it, which led to a husband who was even more keen when it came to getting his mouth on your boobs.

“We can’t,” you rebuffed.

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, men and their libidos. “My parents will be back any minute! God, saying that makes me feel like we’re teenagers sneaking around before curfew.”

Steven wasn’t giving up that easily. He crowded closer to you again. “Please babe? Just a little taste?”

To help convince you, he dotted kisses on that spot just behind your ear. That fucker, he was playing dirty…though, your breasts were a little achy to be honest…

“A taste, that’s it,” you surrendered. You pushed him away to look Steven in the eye. “Seriously Steven, we’re staying clothed and nothing below the belt.”

He nodded, graciously accepting the terms you set forth as you sat down on the couch and reached under your shirt to unclasp a cup on your nursing bra. Steven followed you, rucking up your shirt.

“You should wear these all the time,” he declared before wrapping his lips around your bare nipple.

“What, my gross nursing bras?”

“Mmmhmm,” Steven only disconnected his mouth for a second to clarify, “Easy access.”

You chuckled incredulously. As scandalized as you’d seemed to Steven, it did feel heavenly to have him suckling at you. You sank further into the couch, luxuriating in the wet suction of his mouth on the mound Nyla hadn’t eaten from.

Obviously there was nothing sexual about feeding your daughter, though it was deeply vulnerable and wholesomely intimate. Sharing this with Steven was managed to be both those emotions in a different way and arousing.

You never imagined you’d get off on this, let alone enjoy it. Yet, it was how much Steven relished the act himself that did it for you, that never failed to get your pussy, in addition to your tits, wet. They weren’t kidding when they said becoming a parent changes you.

You carded your fingers through your husband’s curls while he licked and sucked at your peak. Once short, his hair was growing out more since he, nor Marc or Jake, hadn’t been to the barber since your daughter’s birth. You liked it, the longer hair gave you more to grab onto when you and your husbands were able to find the time, let along muster the energy, to fuck.

“So good,” Steven murmured against the thin, sensitive skin of your teat. “Need more.”

You two were already pushing it as it was. “Honey…”

“Please,” You watched him grind himself against the cushions. “You’re just so tasty.”

You tilted Steven’s chin up to connect your lips. He eagerly granted you entrance when your tongue invaded his mouth to taste the two of you for yourself.

“We make quite the combination, don’t we?”

“C’mon babe, you know the power these titties have over me,” Steven pleaded.

You did know. And if you had more time, you’d make him beg for them properly. Steven was the only alter that you felt comfortable with and sexy about bossing around a bit.

You tucked your tit back into your bra but before you exposed the other one, you provoked him, “Tell me how much.”

A little whine escaped from Steven’s mouth. “Want ‘em so badly, darling. Always so big and perky…gods, nothing gets my cock harder than these tits, could suck at ‘em all day—“

You interrupted him, freeing your other breast and pushing his head back to your chest. Steven went without protest, resealing his lips around your nipple and resuming his avid suckling.

Oh, it felt so good for your boobs to be both pleasured and drained. You were on the verge of caving in and telling Steven to get his sure-to-be throbbing dick out when you heard a key in the front door’s lock.

“Oh my God!” You pushed Steven’s head away just as swiftly as you’d pulled it to you moments before, internally cursing that you’d given your parents a key.

It was supposed to be so they could let themselves in without disturbing Nyla, but perhaps the access was hurting more than helping now. You dove away from Steven on the couch and fumbled for the remote.

The two of you could hear the doorknob turning…

“What are you doing?” Steven demanded in a whisper.

“Putting on the telly because why else would you be sitting on the couch with a pillow on your lap other than to hide a boner?” you fired back lowly.

The door opened, footsteps approached…

“Your shirt!” Steven frantically reminded you.

You hastily stuffed your still leaking breast back into your already stained top, assuming what you hoped was a somewhat normal pose on the couch as your mother entered, a few bags from the grocery store as well as one from the Dulwich gift shop in tow.

“Is she napping?” she whispered, referring to Nyla. Both you and your husband nodded. “Then why is the TV on?”

“Because Steven just wanted to check the cricket score,” you covered while Steven muted the volume.

All three of you looked at the screen. A home improvement show that was decidedly not cricket played.

“It’s on a different channel than usual,” Steven explained while he desperately searched the digital guide for Sky Sports.

Honestly, now would have been the perfect time for Nyla to start fussing and divert everyone’s attention away from your disheveled state. Damn your effective sleep training.

A subject change was in order, you decided. “How was the gallery?”

“Lovely,” your mother answered. “Dad was tired, still dealing with the jetlag, so I went to the store and picked up a few things.”

“Thanks mom,” you responded, your tone full of genuine gratitude. Keeping Nyla fed was overwhelming enough, never mind feeding you and Steven on top of it.

“So kind of you,” Steven added along with his thanks.

You both volunteered to help her put away the groceries, one, because she’d gone through the trouble of getting and paying for them, and two, you and Steven had a system.

While you unpacked, the two of you peppered her with a constant stream of questions about her morning at the park and gallery, which seemed to effectively take her mind off of anything she might’ve glimpsed earlier.

***

You thought you’d gotten away with masking your little escapade until later that night. Your mom sent Steven and your dad to pick up the takeaway and was rocking Nyla when she asked you, “Is everything alright, sweet pea?”

“Yeah. Great. You and Dad have been such big helps. Can’t imagine what we would've done without you.”

“Of course! We wouldn’t miss spending this precious time with our sweet Nyla-girl,” she said, gazing down at her granddaughter with eyes full of adoration. “Are you and Steven alright though? You seemed off before.”

Fuck, nothing got past your mom. Not when you were growing up, not now. You tried to think fast. “Oh that…we’re fine. Honestly, I think we’re so sleep-deprived we forgot that we gave you a key. We were a little startled, that's all.”

Your mother listened, giving no indication or not if she was convinced. Her silence prompted you to babble and overcompensate, a rookie move on your part. “Maybe...you know, in the future, you shoot us a text when you’re headed over so neither of us zombies spook and wake the baby.”

“Alright then,” she agreed. You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when she continued, “That’s good for you two, I’m happy you’re getting back to more ‘marital’ activities.”

Well it looked like Steven, Marc and Jake were going to have to raise Nyla on their own, because you died. Of course your mom knew what you’d been up to. “Mom!”

“Oh sweet pea, don’t be embarrassed!!” she tried to comfort you. She must have assumed you two were merely fooling around. You surmised from her nonchalance that she hadn’t seen exactly what you were doing, because wouldn’t she be more scandalized? “It’s a good thing!”

“A good thing that we pretend never happened?” You countered. “Mom, I beg you. It’s one thing between us, but you know Steven–none of the guys–had a good family life. He’ll actually die of embarrassment.”

“I’d never,” your mom replied, miffed you thought she’d mention it to your husband at all. “That's why I sent the men away so we could talk.”

Today had been such a rollercoaster of emotions that all you could manage was a “thanks” in return. And truly, what more was there to add?

***

After dinner, you and Steven showed your parents to the door. Good-nights were exchanged and when the door shut, it was Marc that greeted you. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you pecked him on the lips. “Missed you.”

“You too,” he murmured. “Good day?”

“As if you weren’t co-conscious for my and Steven’s sex debacle.”

Marc laughed softly. “I was trying to be a gentleman about it.”

“Well, I appreciate that, but can I talk to Steven for one more minute,” you requested. You circled your arms around his shoulders, “Then it’s just you, me, the RAF file, plus the bottle of wine my parents couldn’t finish.”

It never failed to astound you, watching one alter’s face subtly, but so distinctly, shift into another’s as they traded possession of the body.

“You’re cross with me, aren’t you?” Steven speculated without hesitation.

“I’m not cross,” you assuaged him, “But I think we can only have ‘parental time’ once Mom and Dad are undoubtedly home for the evening from now on.”

He conceded. “That’s fair. Besides, I know your dad knows we’re married and how babies are made and everything, but I still feel like he’d kill me if he ever caught us in the middle of shagging.”

You giggled, he wasn’t wrong necessarily.

“I’m sure he's telling you, but Marc has to prep for a meeting tomorrow and–”

“Yeah, alright,” Steven cut you off. Marc needed the body. Before he gave over control, Steven asked one more time, “You’re sure you’re alright? That you’re not angry?”

While you weren’t sure you’d live it down with your mom, you had been just as horny as Steven was. Besides, there were more important things to focus on.

“No honey,” you assured him. “I mean we’re only a little over a month into this, I’m going to need you to help a lot more with these.”

Steven took one last good look at your tits, sent you a cheeky wink, then Marc took back over.

Neither man had stopped holding you. Marc’s grasp tightened slightly and he asked, “Now what was that about a bottle of wine?”

Read the follow up fic FIRST

A/N: Soooooooo, what’d we think? I definitely have another lactation!kink fic idea centered around Jake in mind, and then maybe some good ol’ angst and communication between you and Marc about why he’s hesitant to front with the baby. Interested? Let me know!

Also more to come in my other AU with Marc and Sigyn, but after the overwhelmingly lovely response to Shape of You I had to get this out first! Thanks for reading!

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #steven grant x female reader #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x female reader #marc spector smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #Oscar Isaac thirst hours #moon knight au #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction

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ofstarsandvibranium · 10 months

Text

To Have & To Hold: Part 5

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

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

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Series Masterlist

It's been a few days since you've seen Marc. You imagine that since he's taking over your father's business once you two are married, he's making sure Marc knows all the ins and outs of the L/N Family organization.

You had to admit that you miss Marc's company. You didn't have many friends, you refused to let anyone get too close because you didn't know if they wanted to get to your dad or someone from your dad's past would use them against you. With Marc, it was different. He was already in the business, you didn't have to hide part of that life from him and you already knew he could take care of himself. It was nice to be around someone that you could be yourself with.

Your mind starts to wander. Do you see yourself falling in love with Marc? Sure, he can be a little emotionally constipated, but he listens. He understands you. He makes you laugh every once in a while. He makes you comfortable.

You groan, rolling over and smashing your face into your pillow. You groan and flail your arms and legs around. You proceed to yell into your pillow, "Fucking shit! Fuck me! Fucking fuck face! Ugh!"

Your phone then starts to ring and you see that it's your friend Yelena. You immediately answer the call, "Please tell me you're asking if I want to grab dinner or drinks because the answer is yes."

She chuckles, "Shall I pick you up then?"

"I'll get ready right now!" you hop out of bed, immediately rushing to your closet.

"I'll see you soon then."

"Bye!" you end the call and you toss your phone ono your bed.

Twenty minutes later, she rolls up to your place and you're rushing into her car.

Yelena was the daughter of Alexei, one of the Russian mob bosses as well as one of your father's oldest friends. You grew up with Yelena and her older sister, Nat. Alexei raised his daughters to be very strong willed and capable. That being said, they knew combat very well and, as a result, they taught you a few things as well. You're not as skilled as them in no way, but you know a little something.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm sure you know why," you give her a knowing look. With Marc being your dad's successor, your dad probably introduced him to a lot of his associates and explained the deal.

"I do, but let me hear it from you," she gives you a nod.

You sigh and then go into it all. The bomb drop from your dad, spending time with Marc, and...the potential feelings that are starting to form.

"Oh no, you're falling for your fiance. What a terrible thing to happen," Yelena responds sarcastically, her Russian accent adding a bit more sass to it.

You roll your eyes at her, "I didn't want it to happen this way though."

"We get the cards we're dealt with. Unfortunately, we don't have a normal family or life. But we make the most of it. Sure, you're forced to marry Marc, but, from what it sounds like, he's a decent guy. You said it yourself you see yourself falling for him. This is a good thing, Y/N."

You shrug, "I suppose."

Yelena pulls up to one of her father's clubs. Knowing both you and her, the bouncer lets you both in. Due to it being a weekday, the club isn't as busy. But there is still music playing, some people on the dancefloor, and drinks being poured.

An arm wraps around your waist and you're pulled into someone's side, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming, my little sunshine!" A deep hefty laugh is heard and you look to see Alexei.

You kiss him on both cheeks, "I didn't know you'd be here," you look to Yelena and she responds, "Neither of us did. What are you doing here?" she asks her father curiously.

"A meeting," he gestures to the VIP section where you see a small group of men and a familiar red head, Nat. She gives you a nod and you give her a wave.

"We'll let you go back to your meeting," you tell your father's friend.

"Da, don't leave without seeing me first okay? I don't see you as much anymore," he kisses your head and goes back to his meeting.

You follow Yelena to the bar area where she immediately hops over the counter and begins to pour shots of vodka.

You cheers and down the clear liquid. You wince and she laughs, "After all these years, you still don't like it?"

"I can't help it! It's-It's just too much." you shake out your arms a bit to loosen up, "Can you put in an order of fries for me?"

Yelena nods and gives a thumbs up. She heads over to the iPad to put down the order. The bartender that occupied the space was on the other side giving you two space and privacy. Yelena knew her way around the bar, you didn't need them.

Your phone buzzes and you look down to see that you received a text from Marc.

Marc Spector: Why are you at Alexei's?

You: having drinks with Yelena

Marc Spector: can I join you?

A part of you wants to say no. You kind of want to enjoy the time with Yelena. However, another part of you, the part of you that's sorta kinda missing him wants to say yes. You're not sure what to say.

"Do you have a coin?" you ask Yelena. She opens the cash register and grabs a penny. She tosses it to you and you catch it. Heads means yes. Tails means no. You toss and catch it. When you look at the result, you immediately text your reply to Marc.

Yelena, approaching you again with your usual, asks, "What just happened?"

You pocket your phone and reply, "Marc's joining us."

"Aaahh the husband to be. Exciting," she wiggles her brows at you and you roll your eyes.

"It's just drinks," you give her a shrug, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

She gives you a knowing look and proceeds to take a swig from her beer bottle.

You give her another shrug, "I mean, ya know, gotta get used to being around each other all the time now."

__________________

When Marc arrives, you and Yelena are on the dance floor dancing and singing to Whitney Houston. There aren't a lot of people in the club, but still a good amount to fill a fourth of the dance floor.

Marc strolls up to you, tapping you on the shoulder, "Hey."

You yelp and twirl around, a little embarrassed that he saw you being a little goofy, "Oh hey." You glance at Yelena over your shoulder, "Um, you know Yelena?"

"We've seen each other around," Marc gives her a nod. Yelena lifts her bottle and gives him a nod. She doesn't say anything, simply observes.

"Everything okay?" you ask with slight concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Just a lot today. A little overwhelming," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. You kind of hated how attractive it is when he does that.

You snort, "Better you than me," you take a sip of your drink.

Marc hums and looks at you up and down, clearly checking you out, "I like this color on you."

Yelena makes a noise beside you and shoot her a look before responding, "Thanks, um, I don't really wear this color often."

"You should wear it more," he simply states and then clears his throat, "I'll let you two hang out. I'll be at the bar if you need anything."

"Uh huh," you nod and watch him walk towards the bar.

Yelena slaps your arm, "He wants you!"

"Stop it!"

"Y/N he was clearly checking you out!"

"I don't-he-I mean not really," you're trying not to think too much of it. But then you glance at Marc's direction, he's sipping a beer but his eyes are on you. His eyes glance up and down your body again and you suddenly feel really warm.

You turn away and Yelena is cackling. She's way too amused by all of this. You slap her arm this time, "Shut up! What do I do?"

She shrugs, "Fuck him? I don't know. You guys are getting married, it's okay to be attracted to each other."

You groan and down the rest of your drink. You sigh, "I think it's time for more shots."

Yelena grins at you and says, "Say less," as she grabs your hand and pulls you back to the bar.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marvel #au #marvel au #mob boss au #mob au #mafia au

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lockleysfav · 2 years

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Medicine

steven grant x reader

summary: The reader was diagnosed with a fatal illness, neither you or the boys knew when your time would be up. When Steven comes back from a mission overnight, he and his alters never get to say goodbye.

warnings: very angsty, death, heartbroken moon boys, mentions of hospital equipment, Marc and Jake make an appearance.

Steven had left you with a forehead kiss and a simple promise that he’d be back as soon as possible.

He was gone for 3 days.

You were incapable of quite literally anything as you were constantly in and out consciousness, Marc had asked one of the elderly neighbours to look after you whenever they were gone but after she saw Steven freak out in the elevator, she never came back. Marc and the rest of them were unaware of that completely.

The heart monitor beside your bed beeped loudly in the silent apartment, it was always so incredibly lonely when they left. There was times even khonshu felt terrible for taking the boys away for a while but it was their job, it was Marcs debt to pay. You understood that.

You were tired, your body felt light as if it was floating. It was calm and peaceful. You knew what was coming, so you weakly sat up and moves some of the wires out of the way and grabbing a pen and some paper to write a note for the men you love dearly.

It took the rest of your energy to fold up the note and place it on your nightstand. The photo of you and Steven sitting nicely behind the note, you leaned down and kissed the frame, a tear rolling down your cheek at all the sudden core memories of you and them.

Tears were streaming out of your eyes uncontrollably when you knew you wouldnt be able to see their faces before you go, but thats life. You cant always get what you want even if its your last wish.

****

Steven had a smile on his face, a bouquet of flowers resting at the bend of his arm as the elevator doors opened. He quickly walked to the neighbours house and knocked on it until the lady opened the door with a small jump.

“H-hello, i uh i’ve got cash but i havent exactly got all of it right now” Steven stutteres, flipping through his bank notes. The woman shook her head in confusion “What for?” and Steven chuckles “Looking after y/n” he replies. The womans face slightly drops.

“I haven’t…i havent checked on her”

Stevens heart sunk immediately. He almost threw up right then “What?! What do you mean?” the woman shakes her head again “I havent been to check on her im so sorry” shes about to ramble on again but Steven jolts down the corridor, barging into your shared apartment.

“No”

Steven dropped the flowers as he stood frozen at the doorway.

He could hear Marc and Jakes distress but at the same time it was drowned out like white noise. It took him a while before he rushed to your side with his eyes already swelling with tears “Baby? please wake up” he whimpers and shakes your body like a little kid trying to wake his mother after a nightmare. His heart felt like someone was crushing it with their bare hands, he almost couldnt breathe.

Your body was pale, the flatline being the only noise he could hear. He was begging you to wake up, he was trying everything he could to wake you up but deep down he knew it wasn’t gonna work.

Marc was screaming at Steven to call and ambulance but Steven shook his head “Marc…” he whimpers breathlessly and his legs give out, his hands clutching onto your shirt as he wailed into it.

Marc and Jake watched the scene, crying not only for you but for Steven. Steven was the one who met you, asked you out, kissed you first, had sex with you first. You were even the one who took his virginity. Marc and Jake loved you so much, but their love could never match Stevens.

He used to sit at the end of the bed looking at the mirror, rambling with a smile to them both about how beautiful and amazing you are after he’d get home from another date. Only a month ago he was talking to them about marrying you.

Jake looked away when Steven started choking on his tears, clawing at his own chest because his heart ached that badly. Marc pursed his lips together and silently cried. You were so sweet to him, during his mental breakdowns, his nightmares and his panic attacks it was always you who would rush to his side and hold him close to you, peppering kisses to his face and shushing him gently until he’d feel safe.

With Jake, he was so distant and hes never regretted something so much until now. You were both just starting to get close, he accepted he loved you and he was going to tell you he loved you for the first time when they got back. Thats why he had to look away, he didnt want his alters to see him cry.

Though they all perked up when a gush of wind caused the folded note to flop beside Steven.

He looked down at it as more tears flowed out of his eyes, you knew you were gonna die. His shaky hands picked up the note and he unfolded it with hiccups escaping his body.

Steven. I understand you couldn’t get here in time but i know how much you loved me, the same goes for Marc and Jake. I love each of you so so much and i hope you all stay safe.

please look in the bathroom. My last gift for you. I love you so much.

Steven gripped the paper in his hands and cried out. His back flopping against the side of the bed with his head in his hands. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t open the damn door until Jake suddenly fronted.

Jake gritted his teeth and wiped his eyes as he forced himself to stand and avoid looking at you because he knew if he did, he’d breakdown. So he straightened his posture and walked to the bathroom door with his knees buckling at the sound of a soft meow.

He huffed as the wall broke and his tears came flowing down his cheeks “Pendejo” he muttered and rested his head against the door, twisting the handle and opening it. He stared ahead into the mirror, frozen before he felt the soft fur of the kitten rub against his leg, another meow coming from it.

Jake looked down and stumbled onto his knees to pick up the kitten “mi amor” he whimpers as he looks into the eyes of the small animal, her eyes the exact same colour as yours. He cried even harder when the kitten started to lick his cheek, ridding of his oncoming tears and nuzzles into him.

Marc fronted when Jake slowly cried himself to sleep, sat up againt the bathroom door with the kitten curled on his lap. He looked down at the kitten and whispered your name with a strained voice. The kitten perked it’s head up and he laughed, tears staining his cheeks but he shook his head quickly, picking up the kitten and standing up to face the bedroom, your body laying lifeless in front of him.

It took him a few minutes before he could get the courage to walk towards you.

“It’s all my fault” he cries “i should’ve- i should’ve ignored khonshu and just come home to you” he was about to go on until the kitten nipped his ankle. He hissed and looked down to see the kitten licking the bite before looking up at him and meowing.

The note left on the desk caught his attention again and he turned to it, flipping it over.

i will always be with you.

++++

Thank you for reading <3

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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 years

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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙎𝙪𝙣

A/N: Okay so I don't care if you guys will judge me but damn I had fallen for this Mister Bird Man and I thought like " Why the heck I won't write for this fine specimen?" So enjoy darlings, because that's gonna be a wild ride and there is probably gonna be another part! And a friendly reminder, when the italics start, please listen to "Only Love can hurt like this"...

Summary: After being alive for 20.000 years alonsgide your brothers, losing one, losing your parents,your home and Thanos snapping everyone, you were ready to take a break from everything. While having a different identity and a somehow normal life, you couldn't have guessed that a shy, Egyptian nerd would come to ask for your help which eventually led you to meet with someone you thought had betrayed you.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairings: Khonshu x Goddess!Reader( romantic); Steven Grant x Goddess!Reader( Platonic); Marc Spector x Goddess!Reader( Platonic); Jack Lockley x Goddess!Reader( Platonic); Layla El-Faouly x Goddess!Reader( Platonic)

"Thank you so much for covering for me, Leena! I don't know how I can pay you back..."

"Don't worry, darling! Just bring your daughter over for a play date and everything will be fine!"

You waved at the young mother who you called as your friend and watched her get out of the shop hurriedly. You sighed heavily and sat down to look at the many people passing by with a sad yet content smile. All of these people who didn't know anything about the snap just went on with their daily life and those who were aware of what happened were trying to adjust to life again. You were happy that everybody was safe and sound but remembering how two of your best friends died and the anguish you felt when you couldn't feel the heartbeat of your little brother Loki was...

You shook your head when someone came in and you immediately grabbed your apron to go to the front. You passed by a young girl who was struggling with college and feeling sympathy for her, you touched her forearm slightly to give a relief to her. She looked around curiously to see if there was something wrong around her, not being used to feeling so relaxed after days of stress. You called out her name, making her scared out of the thought that she did something wrong. Smiling reassuringly at her, you made a thumbs up at her.

" Don't stress over college that much! It's not that worth it and please go home early and rest! That's an order!"

She widened her eyes at you and with slight tears, nodded her head to go and change her outfit. A pair of brown eyes were watching your interraction with curiosity and wonder. He wasn't used to seeing such kindness on a complete stranger ever since his childhood. He slightly turned to the ancient God next to him to not catch any attention but just gaped at him since he was feeling... sadness? Love?

Can this sassy old God even love someone?

"Hey, just wondering? How do you know this woman and how can she help us?"

"And why are you being all mushy?"

"Marc Spector, if you talk about her like that one more time, this will be the last time you'll ever talk."

Steven raised a hand in surrender and just pouted, turning to look at you talking sweetly at a child, he couldn't help but think that you were just an ordinary girl who had a simple life as a barista who was kinda cute and motherly who was also great at making coffee.

Elegant look, kindness that could match even Gods, and good looks-

"Don't you dare to think nasty things, little worm!"

"Okay, easy there Murder Bird!"

He scoffed and wanted to throw a snarky comment at him but when they heard you laugh over your phone while holding your chest thightly, Steven jumped up on his seat at Khonshu growling loudly at you- no, to the one you're talking with.

"You know, Buck... I prevented a death today and I'd like to consider this as a character development!"

"Oh, yeah? How did you do it then, doll?"

"Self restraint, of course!"

You were idly fixing the tables while talking to Bucky who became a close friend to you after helping them for some time with the new Captain America. Even after you three parted ways, they were still a part of your daily life since your daughter loved Sam's corny jokes and your son adored how strong Bucky was. They both weren't used to someone so young, little yet strong kids look up to them, especially Bucky who thought that he wasn't a good man that deserved praise. Before you could scold him for laughing at your answer, you visibly beamed at hearing your son and daughter over the phone, both of them laughing joyfully.

"Is that momma you're talking? We want to talk too!"

"Yes, Uncle Bucky! We want to!"

You sat down and looked at the many pastries before you absent-mindedly while Bucky was trying to set the excited kids down to let them speak to you. He couldn't exactly blame them for their excited fidgetings since it's been a long time they saw you and he wasn't sure if he could keep up with their powers and smartness any longer.

Being born to the two strong Gods wasn't that easy. The spiritualness, smartness, and limitless power the duo held between their little hands were inmeasurable and that made you worry more than anything in the life. Who knew what would happen to them if humans learnt about them? Or your enemies? Would you be able to protect them from the harsh world?

You winced when a particular harsh and angry scream erupted from your daughter. Heart pounding hard in your ribcage, you asked if everything was all right when Bucky told you that she got angry at her brother for pulling on her hair and threw a blue and white ball at him?

"Wait... Did you just say a ball of blue and white?"

"Uhh, yeah, doll... That's exactly what I said but- Hey? Y/N? Are you there?"

"Ah, yes I am! I think I should come there quickly though... I guess her powers are starting to appear and I need to be there to calm her."

Sighing heavily to yourself, you touched the star necklace around your neck to find some solace and comfort midst your anxiety attack. Remembering your one and only love used to bring a painful stab to your heart and an inexplicable feeling of revenge and hatred but now, there was just a hollow emptiness inside where your heart used to be. Your eyes started to sting, your heart paced faster at the memory of you two's last day together.

The late night sky was shining with the bright twinkling light of millions of stars. The purple galaxies across the endless universe and constellations was such a sight to behold that you just admired what your lover created while swinging your feet in the river. Your father, Odin, was pretty much angry at this relationship you two created, stating that you were a princess and therefore deserved the best, strongest God as your husband... and preferably a human one. You giggled at the memory of you yelling at him so hard that your beloved Sun almost scorched the whole Asgard. You could even feel the air shifting around you and hearing what sounded like a coo and awe, you felt your cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink before sprinting out of the Great Hall to visit your lover in his realm.

And now here you were, throwing your head back fondly to look at the endless sky. Seeing your grumpy yet sweet lover, you smiled so wide that it made even the aloof God smile at your small form. It was hard, being with a 8 feet God while you were hardly 5'7 but somehow you managed by finding that he can posses a human body. You didn't like the idea that much since he was using a poor guy who didn't know anything and you loved the true form of him more than anything.

"My Goddess, why are you smiling so hard for?"

You hugged yourself hard when you heard his deep and raspy voice while he was holding his staff between his hands and folding his legs to sit next to you. Looking up at him and kissing his beak softly, you took his long arm between yours and looked at the lake before you which was painted with a deep night blue which was lighted by the little fireflies.

"Nothing, My God... Just thinking about my father and you."

"Hmm... I hope you don't think about pranking him with your brother, my star."

"Ah, never never! Me, the Goddess of Sun, Power and Eternal Life, is going to prank the Father of all Gods? No way!"

A deep chuckle rumbled inside his chest and vibrated to your own smaller figure which made you close your eyes peacefully. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, you made the most with the time you two had before you went back to the palace to work with your mother. Looking at the hollow eye-sockets of your lover, you made an attempt at speaking first. But before you could open your mouth, he beat you into it.

"My Moon, My Star... You do know of how much I love you, right?"

You looked at him with your pointer finger up, mouth forming a shocked "o" shape at the voice of the God of Moon and Vengeance, the one who would throw snarky comments and annoy everyone sounded so... insecure and unsure. The realization made you look at him in sadness and also curiousty, wondering why he brought this up so suddenly.

Turning your head to the big and shining Moon, you looked back at the God that was your lover who was looking down at you, waiting for an answer. You couldn't probably see it that well, but internally, he was at the verge of freaking out. Eveey second you weren't answering was like a year of torment, a million swords piercing his body at everywhere. He knew he was rough around the edges, that you deserved a more romantic lover who wouldn't yell over you when you fluster him, or someone you could cuddle easily, walk around easily... The list was a long one, and unfortunately, Odin threatining the absolute shit out of him if he didn't leave you was good enough as reason to be sentimental.

"Leave my daughter alone, you little God! How can you possibly think that you're good enough for her?!"

He still remembered how your mother tried to calm him down while he was walking back to where he came from, mind already clouded by what he was supposed to talk to you. He wasn't gonna just leave you like that just because Odin told him to. Heck, he felt like he found the other half of his existence! You, with your bubbly personality, caring self, smile full of love and eyes that couldn't even rival the brightness of his Moon were everything to him.

And he would rip out his own heart if it meant that you could be together, even if it was in another galaxy.

"You know... The Moon actually shines thanks to the Sun, and without the Moon, Sun wouldn't have such a meaning to anyone except brightining around while burning itself for the sake of others..."

Khonshu looked at you with what you assumed as wonder and a deep love, your bond being strong with him. You definetly have a way with your words, my little one, he thought while gently caressing your hair. He hummed at you, urging you to go on and you grabbed his hand. Putting something a little heavy in his hand, Khonshu tilted his head to left and opened it, only to see a sun-shaped golden necklace. Looking at you for any affirmation, you just nodded your head and got up to put it on his body, right in the middle of his Moon Symbol.

" You're the reason I don't loose myself, the reason I always give life and enlighten paths for people. I'd like to think that we both complete each other and... I really don't believe my life would have such a meaning if you weren't in... there..."

You blushed and shied away from him, taking a few steps back when you felt him freeze and get tense. You beat yourself in your mind for speaking so carelessly and pouring your heart out at him. You two weren't even in that part of your relationship! You didn't even mutter any "I love you"s to each other, and you had to go and utter such words! Idiot YN!

" Why?"

He didn't know why exactly he said that, I mean you literally serenaded to him and he asked "why?". But he really wondered the reason. You were such a powerful God, beauty that could rival Helen of Troy, or Aphrodite and Hathor and every Goddess all around the realm yet, you chose to be with him. You chose to love him, cherish him 'till the day you'd die and felt so strongly about him that you even created your very own hidden heaven just for you two to come and love each other.

Knitting your eyebrows, you smiled sweetly and kissed his forehead. Lingering there a few second, you took a step back and put his hand on your chest, right where your heart was.

"Because I'm in love with you."

And just like that, he pulled you to his lap and smelled your every part, he always thought that even though there was a heart, nothing could make it beat so loudly. Not protecting humans, not ripping hearts, not Hathor's music, nothing.

Except you...

"My Moon, be mine. Let me make you mine and cherish you forever in the presence of our love for each other."

Feeling every inch of love he had for you through his lovesick voice, you nodded at him with slight tears. Bandaged hands started to caress your body and took you in his arms to go where your palace was residing. You couldn't help but caress the skull and whisper to him.

"Silly, Don't you know I've always been yours..?"

And the Moon shone so bright that it was visible even in the morning and the Sun was shining in such a warm yet strong way that people were curious yet happy since their days will go with peace. You two made your bond stronger by making love to each other for the first time, both in his true form and in a human, laughed freely and happily, not caring about how you'll be in trouble for all the bruises he gave to you but you were fine. You had your lover here, with you, soon to be married for eternal life... Turning to look at him, you softly kissed his jaw and closed your eyes for the sleep to take you over...

Not knowing that the Sun you adored so much would loose its spark in a matter of seconds, and the heart that was once filled with love would be nothing but a heart that screamed for one thing:

Revenge.

*****

"Lee! There is a creepy looking guy and a sweet girl looking straight at you for the past 30 minutes! Shall we call the police!?"

When a co-worker whisper yelled at you, you almost fell of the chair, if not for grabbing the table at the last minute. You looked at her with wide eyes, almost hearing what seemed like an amused chuckle and she got panicked, stuttering over her words while trying to apologize but you cut her off to understand who she was talking about and where that damn chuckle was coming from.

"What man and woman? Where? Show me, show me!"

"Right behind you but don't be too... Obvious..."

She sighed annoyed when you turned abruptly to look at what she was talking about, and you saw a curly-haired woman who had a sweet yet awkward smile and a man looking at you as if you were his next prey with soft curls that fell on his forehead. By the look of his eyes, you could guess that he was somehow in a lot of wars or jobs that included killing, not serial killer since he wouldn't come with a girl to observe his victim, maybe a mercinary or something like that.

Keeping the eye contact, you turned on where you were sitting and looked at them with whole of your body turned to them, legs dangling both sides of the chair. Leaning down a little bit more, you tilted your head to see if any of them would stop looking, whether it was out of discomfort or their human eyes finally loosing the batte against being dry for so long.

"Are we going to keep staring at each other until your eyes will dry so hard that not even water would help, or are you going to stop?"

And you smirked in victory when both of them groaned out in discomfort, rubbing their eyes to ease the pain. You chuckled and grabbed your eye drop for dry eyes, whistling at them, you threw it at the girl while fixing your clothes.

"You know, staring at people is rude and you even kept looking at me when I clearly warned you? You got some real guts, darlings!"

You stood in front of them, folding your arms in front of your chest, waiting for them to finish dropping the eye drop. You turned your head to the back slightly and smiled at your co-workers to let them know that everything was fine and that you were going to deal with the duo. Taking off your notebook and pencil, you waited for them to talk so you can just go and prepare their orders and go back to your place to your kids.

"Okay, gentleman, my lady, what may I bring you?"

"Look, we aren't here for-"

"An Iced-Latte and Americano would be great! Right, Marc?"

You looked at them with a bored yet curious gaze and raising your brow at the look the woman was giving him, thight lips with half wide eyes that screamed for him to shut up, you shrugged your shoulders and wrote their orders. Smiling at their way, you went back to your place and started to prepare what they wanted while trying not to laugh at their banter.

"Look, I know you want to ease into the talk but we don't really have time! Harrow is right on our tail and-"

"And freaking her out would be no help, Marc! If she really is who she is, than she already knows everything just let us get her trust!"

Oh My, What could two mortals do with a God?, you thought, while twisting your rings anxiously. You could just march up right there, tell them to go away since they'd be throwing themselves into more danger by being with you but your mind couldn't help but wonder: Who was this Harrow and how do they know who you are?

Meanwhile, a certain ancient God was right behind you, with his staff planted on the marble floor firmly. He extended a bandaged hand out to you, wanting to touch the face he dreamed of seeing again for all these centuries but he looked at you in shock since his hand just... slipped through you. He shuffled where he was standing and clutched the sun shaped necklace on his chest thightly, as if he was in pain. He didn't understand, do you not see him? Was he wrong about this woman being you? Did you forget about him?

Marc, thinking that Khonshu was right behind him, turned to question the God but when he saw that there was no one, he frantically looked around, finding him right next to you, trying to touch you and fail miserably. He nudged Layla and they both looked at him curiously while Layla was sad. She frowned at the scene since the snarky, grumpy God looked like a little kid trying to grab his mother and that he was somehow looking at her with pure sadness and a sullen look. Layla turned to Marc and leaned down to his ear to speak what was in her mind.

"Do you think... Maybe they have a shared past? It's not normal for him to be so... depressed."

"I don't know but I guess we're about to find out..."

You shivered slightly and looked around to see if there was any open windows than necessary and upon finding none, you grabbed their drinks and walked towards them. Smiling to yourself at the delighted look on the woman's face which made you smile softly at her even more and before you could go and change your outfit, she called out to you.

"U-Uh, Miss! Can we talk a little bit!"

"Uh... Sure, just let me change quickly okay?"

When you came from the back room and sat down in front of them, you could see that the man next to her was no longer the one you saw earlier. Sure, the body was the same but the look he was giving were shy? Anxious, and a little bir excited?

"Sorry for asking this but... Are you Egyptian?"

"Uh, yeah! I am and my friend here is-"

"You sure?"

They both looked at you with their mouths hanging open widely, the man spilling his coffee almost over himself and you gighled delightfuly at their shocked faces while handing a napkin to the poor man who thanked you stuttering.

"Ahh, that's the best part of the day! But seriously, your pheromone levels are quite high to be just friends and I'm not dumb... Actually I didn't mean the sexual tension you both have, more like you used a singular word whereas there are 3 people in one body..."

"Holy Fuck, she really is a Goddess!"

"Shhh, you idiot! Don't shout thing like that!"

You closed his mouth with your hand and looked around you anxiously to see if there was anyone who heard you. You sighed in relief since most people were outside and sat back down on your seat. Looking at them with hooded eyes and a tired look, you lifted your head to look at the woman before you.

"Look, sweetheart... I don't know who do you think I am or how much you know about me but I'm not the one to help you..."

"Wait, please! We know you faced many shit but you have to listen to us, you're the only one that could help us and if you don't want to help, then we'll let you go!"

Layla would have pressured you into listening to them more, even using harsh words but the look on your eyes touched her heart deeply. The tired eyes,dull look that screamed to let go of you... They were the same eyes she used to have and even though she didn't have a great sense of feeling people's emotions, she was sure as hell that you have been through a lot.

Thinking about her offer for a minute, you looked at the door and to them, trying to decide which option was better. To be honest, walking through that door and never looking back was a good idea. You didn't even know these people, you owed nothing to them to accept their offer and you weren't in the mood to deal with a bunch of kids... But the desperation and scared look in their eyes, even though they tried to hide it, was clear and that made you sit straight on your seat. Whining and pinching the bridge of your nose, you nodded and accepted to talk.

The woman, who later told you her name was Layla, smiled in gratitude and looked at the man beside her, who was Steven who had three alters, to speak since things were about to get complicated.

"Okay so, even I don't really understand what really is going on but one time I woke up in the middle of a meadow, got chased down by people and was holding a dung beetle. Later, I saw a man who was talking about the other world, the after life and then used a cane and then sucked the life out of a woman, saying that maybe bad thing will happen in the future and then everyone screamed-"

"All Hail Ammit, right?"

"Yes! But how did you..?"

"Ammit is the ancient Egyptian God that devoured the soul of those who she deemed unworthy. Eater of Hearts, Devourer of the Dead... Please, continue with your story, Steven Grant."

" And I don't know they were after the dung beetle and when I opened it, it just started to fly around, there is a God that wants me to be his avatar, well actually Marc is his but since he's inside my body, I kinda am his avatar too... And how do you know my surname, I didn't even tell you!?"

You sighed lovingly at the man who forgot that you were a Goddes yourself and waited for him to realize his mistake and when he did, he blushed so hard that he just wanted to crawl under the blankets and hide there forever. You pat his hand softly, telling him that it was okay and asked him to show you the beetle. Inspecting it while turning it upside down, you started to murmur to yourself.

" The ancient Egyptians identified this with creation, the indisputable strength of masculinity, procreation, wisdom, reincarnation, immortality and renewal... Ammit has been imprisoned for centuries and if there is a man, using her powers to collect souls... and thinking of the meaning of dung beetle... It's obvious that this Harrow man is trying to set her free, Steven..."

You gave it back to him and rubbed your face while thinking. The Egyptian Gods have always been into chaos more than anyone, being like little children and all that. They never gathered around one topic or aim, resulting in more chaos. They didn't even care about humanity anymore, opting to observe them through their avatars and even then, they didn't really give a single fuck about them. Always thinking so highly of themselves, looking down at humans... No wonder you hated their guts.

If this man would set Ammit free... You didn't want to imagine what would happen to the world.

"But... How can we stop them? We don't even know any God except you and you might not even help-"

"Who told you I'm not gonna help? I mean sure I'd have loved to have the retired life but... Unfortunately, if you come face to face with the other Gods, they wouldn't be nice to you... and probably wouldn't listen either. With me in the picture, they'd have no choice but listen."

"And Miss Lee... Since you're gonna help, can we learn your real name and identity please? If that's... okay?"

Looking at her sharply, you looked down and up at her, knowing that you were making them anxious second by second. Grinning joyfully, you nodded your head and popped a lollipop into your mouth, extending your hand out for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Layla El-Faouly! I'm the Goddess of Sun, Power snd Immortal Life... Daughter of Odin and Frigga, elder sister of Thor and Loki, a mother of two children and a woman who is this close to loose her shit."

She laughed at your way of introducing and watched you hug Steven to yourself lovingly, patting his head softly and praising him for being smart enough to find you. He curiously looked at your right and you turned your eyes at where he was looking but seeing no one, you ssked him what he was looking at.

"Oh, nothing! It's just... we didn't find you, he showed you to us..."

"He? Who?"

"It's the God of-"

Everyone inside the shop screamed when multiple bullets sounded around. Protecting Layla and Steven, tucking their head under your arms, you looked around to see a man with a cane walking towards you three. Creating a light shield around them, you took tentaive steps to the man looking at you with a fond smile. Feeling uneasy of his presence, you took out your staff and directed it to him. He stopped where the end of your sun staff ended, he bowed in front of you.

"O' the strong Goddess of the West, the one who enlightens paths and give what they desire, I find such pleasure in meeting the daughter of Odin..."

"As much as I like being praised, I really would rather you talk to me standing up, Arthur Harrow."

Smiling at you, he got up and after setting your staff down, he kissed your hand softly which made you raise a brow at his action. Meanwhile, Steven and Marc was having a headache over Khonshu screaming right next to him.

"IF YOU LET HIM TOUCH HER ONE MORE TIME, MARC SPECTOR, STEVEN GRANT, I'LL TEAR DOWN EVERY SINGLE MUSCLE OUT OF YOU!!"

Not being aware of what was happening behind you, Arthur started to talk while looking at you in astonishment.

"I never thought I'd see the day I'd be in front of such power but even someone like me can get lucky from time to time..."

"Cut the bullshit, darling... Enough of the praises, I already know why you're here."

"Then you also know that I've come here to convince you to join-"

"Who do you think you are, convincing me? I am the one that will decide on what I'll do and I'm the only one who will decide whether you're telling truth or not!"

Layla and Steven let out a wow at your voice echoing all around, and your body shining in an angry orange and red, Arthur's men took a few steps back but he only came closer to you with a manic grin. Directing your staff at him again, he didn't care and continued to talk.

"Oh, I can see why such a power is coming from you... Who would have guessed that a Goddess can have revenge inside of her so powerful that it's enough to burn everything?"

"I don't have revenge or anything like that inside me, watch your tongue, boy..."

"Oh, but you do. The fall of your home, your brother and your friends, being betrayed by the one you thought who loved you... So many sins have been committed against you..."

"Shut up..."

"I know the feeling... The same God who spoke such lovely words to you, whispering his love and affections also deceived me as well..."

Well, that caught your attention. Did he even know what he was talking about? Did he really know Khonshu at some point? You looked him up and down to see if he was throwing any lies at you but you saw... none.

With wide eyes, you lowered your guard and looked at him with big, shaky eyes. Seeing that he was getting under your skin, Marc took over an tried to break the shield that surrounded them.

"Do you... really know him? I mean-"

"Khonshu? The ever changing God? Yes, my dear... I know him and how he betrayed me just like how he betrayed you..."

Marc grunted in pain and cursed at you for creating such a strong shield. And the fact that Khonshu was screaming and trashing out didn't help.

"MARC! SAVE HER FROM HIS CLUTCHES!"

"Who is that woman to you anyways?! WHY ARE YOU SO-"

"BECAUSE SHE'S MY WIFE, YOU IDIOT!

"YOUR FUCKING WHAT?!!"

Before Arthur would try and touch you with his filthy hands, you heard the breaking of your shield and it was as if something switched back on. Growling at the man before you, you punched him hard from the balls and threw him away from you. Fighting against the men surrounding you, you turned to look at Steven and Layla to see if they were fine but what you saw made you falter and silently cry...

For the same bandages and Moon shape was on Steven, and your husband standing right in front of you protectively with a pleading and crushed look...

#marvel x you #marvel x gender neutral reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #khonshu imagine #khonshu x reader #bucky barnes #thor #loki

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