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thisisarcanereverie · 2 years

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Checkmate (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Knight and Pawn series (FINAL CHAPTER)

Hey here it is!!! Thank you guys so much for sticking around and loving this series as much as you do. unfortunately all good things have to end, and this is the final chapter. (I know I kinda left ya at a cliff hanger.) I was originally was gonna post it a week from now but I kinda needed the distraction and next thing you know over 5k words later and I finished it.

Again thank you to everybody who loved this series!!

also don't be afraid to send asks or requests for fics!!

HERE IS MY ASK BOX

You love Marc.

You have always loved Marc.

You remind yourself of every good quality your husband has as you pace in front of the sink where three tests lay waiting. You were anxious and began to shake as time seemed to be moving aggravatingly slow.

What if you were pregnant? How would he take it? How would you take it?

Both of you didn’t grow up with the best examples, your parents died when you were young and were neglected by your guardians, meanwhile Marc’s mother was a terror and his father only excused her cruel actions and words. Would you both be able to handle raising someone, could you be better than them?

You had been mindlessly washing dishes earlier when you had cut your finger on a knife. You had hissed and looked to assess the damage, you dried your hands and went to put a bandaid on it or something. When you had that taken care of, you looked at the previously white rag, now stained with red. You had no idea why you were staring at it until this cold tingle went down your spine as your hand unconsciously drifted over your abdomen as the question came to mind.

When was the last time you had your period?

It had only been a month since the wedding and Marc moving you and him back to the states where he bought a large home in a gated community. Apparently the community was for people like him, superheroes. You remember meeting quite a few of them, all of them with their wives. Wanda Maximoff and her wife being the friendliest out of all of them although Wanda’s wife seemed to be a ball of nerves sometimes.

And before that you had a freak accident, you couldn’t remember it if you tried, and you have, only to be met with migraines so intense it made you vomit. You only remember feeling Marc holding you tightly against him and sobbing. You tried asking him about it only to be met with sad eyes and “I don’t wanna relive it.”

And you can’t really remember much else before then, probably because life was so calm and normal that it just slipped your mind, time passes by quickly when you’re not paying attention.

You just know you and Marc had always been together.

The loud beeping of the timer echoed throughout the bathroom, ripping you from your thoughts. You debated looking at them, maybe if you didn’t know it would go away like it never happened, but at the same time you wanted to know. You didn’t know how to feel about it, you were sick to your stomach but at the same time you can’t stop picturing a tiny child with dark hair like their father and eyes like their mother, you can practically hear them laugh and hear their feet patter against the overall quiet home you live in and instead of it terrifying you.

It made you feel warm and happy.

You were terrified, an overall mess of conflicting emotions, you breathed in for a moment and much like ripping off a stubborn bandaid you quickly picked up all three tests.

Pregnant

You guessed you were in shock because suddenly a still calmness enveloped you, similar to acceptance. You carefully hid the pregnancy test in an old box that Marc never went through in the back of the closet, not yet ready to share the news.

You then went about the day like normal.

You finished the dishes, swept the floor in the living room, painted in your home studio, and looked up a recipe for dinner. You just thanked god that the weekly tea and bunch that all the ladies of the community have was pushed back due to the rain. You don’t know how you would handle being around other people at this moment.

You had finished cooking and were setting the table when you saw your husband walk through the door. At some point you just began to assume it’s Marc since Steven came out mostly for work and cuddling, while Jake has been allusive after the accident months ago. Almost like he was avoiding you.

Oh god you just realized it wasn’t just Marc who you would have to break the news to, how would your boys handle it?

“Everything alright Starlight?” You hear Marc ask sweetly, his jacket had already been hung up and he was making his way to you, his eyes concerned, “you look pale, are you having those migraines again?” His hand went to hold your face when you flinched, an action that even shocked you. You were quick to grab his hand and kiss his open palm. You smiled at him and willed yourself to calm your excited nerves.

“Everything is perfect Pretty Boy,” You assured him, “why don’t you get changed and I’ll finish setting the table.” Marc looked apprehensive before placing a kiss on your lips and a silent, “i’ll be right back”.

Dinner had proceeded normally, Marc had practically inhaled his food, having skipped lunch to come home earlier to you. You both talked about your day, you had conveniently left out the three positive pregnancy tests currently hiding in the closet.

Marc had helped with the dishes and at some point, some slow song began to play from the radio. Which led to him pulling you both away from the sink and to dancing in the middle of the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back and your hands playing with the ends of his hair. You both hummed to the song as love filled the room. You pressed your forehead against his as you both just swayed away any troubles. By the time the song ended, it felt like this morning had been days ago.

You loved your life with Marc.

But would Marc still feel the same way knowing that there was about to be a new member to your new family?

—

It had been days since you took those tests.

With each day you felt like you were keeping a secret from him and you were getting anxious, not ever being able to keep a secret from Marc for long. And you knew Marc was getting suspicious, not letting him anywhere near the closet, staring out of windows a lot with a far off look, You knew he was being patient but you didn’t know how long that patience would last.

Finally Marc had a day and night off from Steven’s business and from his Moon Knight duties and you decided today would be the day you told him.

You had originally planned to do it in the morning, once again ripping the bandaid off, but was….pleasantly distracted by him. Multiple times….in a row.

God it was no wonder you were in your current situation.

Then you wanted to tell him at breakfast, but before you could Marc suggested taking a trip to the local beach. He had made sure when moving to move close to one, that dream of visiting the ocean and having you there with him came true.

You decided that maybe Marc would react better in public.

Then you got to the beach only to realize that maybe not there, in case he didn’t want this pregnancy you didn’t want this beach to become a tainted place.

The day passed by quickly, before you knew it you went from laying on the beach enjoying the fresh salt tinted air before the sun was beginning to set on the horizon and you were both eating dinner at home. Having take out from your favorite place.

There had been a moment of silence as you built up your courage. You knew you would have to put this delicately to him, he was always prone to hysterics.

“Marc,” You said, He immediately perked up his attention solely on you. You never called him Marc, only your Pretty Boy. Whenever you called him Marc it was because he made you mad or you were serious.

Both scared him.

“Yes, my beautiful starlight.” Marc said, adding an extra adjective in front of your typical nickname, hoping the compliment might lighten whatever mood had taken over.

“So the other day I cut my finger in the kitchen,” You said, Marc following every word, “I went to put a bandaid on it when something was brought to my attention.”

Oh god did you know?!

Marc could feel his anxiety bubbling up as fear took a hold of him.

“I’m late.”

What?

Marc tilted his head in confusion as though he wasn’t following.

“What um, what were you late for?” He asked nervously, not really following what plans you had made that day that would warrant the look on your face right now.

“I wasn’t late for anything,” You gently explained as you held onto his hand, “I mean I’m late.”

Marc still wasn’t getting it.

You sighed and decided to hell with subtlety.

“I’m pregnant.”

It seemed like Marc hadn’t heard you at first, he hadn’t moved in well over a minute since you told him. You were about to touch his shoulder when he slumped forward, limp.

At first you were worried he had died from the shock, but his steady pulse and breathing indicated otherwise. After a few seconds, he came to. Although from the adorably confused look on his face that it wasn’t Marc.

“Hello sweetheart,” Steven greeted with a sweet kiss to your cheek once he gained his barings, “forgive me for saying this, because I’m not complaining at all, but why am I here? I thought today was Marc’s day with you.”

If Marc was completely oblivious with subtlety before you knew Steven would be more so.

“I’m pregnant.” You said.

Silence.

“I thought your name was (Y/n)?”

You loved him but right now your patience was thin.

“No Steven,” You said calmly, placing a hand over your stomach, “We’re going to have a baby, I’m pregnant.”

Silence once again filled the room before Steven started hyperventilating, you tried calming him down only for him to slump over, his frame once again limp as you concluded that he, indeed, passed out.

And much like before not even five minutes later, he’s up again with another confused look. Only now, when his eyes land on you, you see immense guilt and sorrow in them.

Those eyes hurt the most.

“Hola Angel,” Jake greeted, his eyes looking away from you, “I didn’t know I was going to see you today.”

“I’m pregnant.” You stated, you saw him stiffen before his eyes immediately darted to yours. Searching for any hint of a joke, finding none he knew this was it…the point of no return. Marc had won, completely and utterly.

You were doomed, and there was nothing Jake could do to save you.

“Are, are you um…merida,” Jake cursed in Spanish as you saw a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This man who had killed more people than he could count and enjoyed it was breaking out in a cold sweat over the fact that you were pregnant, “Estas segura?”

“Si,” You said cradling his face, “Si mi Amor”

Time seemed to move slowly around him, and for you as well as you waited for the reaction, waited for him to oppose, or to love it, you didn’t know which one you wanted.

You weren’t sure much about anything.

Suddenly, much like the other two, he slumped forward, limp. Instead of being incredibly concerned, you waited patiently, knowing in a few seconds either Marc or Steven would pop back up.

Sure enough, a few seconds later he’s revived, and at this point the nerves inside you were making you more impatient by the second. Once again by the look he gave you, you knew which one he was right now. Those dark eyes that held so much love that it scared you sometimes, love and obsession.

“Are you done?” you asked impatiently, already quite annoyed by his fainting over the news. After a few minutes Marc nodded, although shakily.

“How, uh, how long have you known?”

“Almost a week,” You revealed, “I was in shock for the first day and a half, but I wanted to wait until you could freak out properly before telling you.”

Silence passed between you as you reached for his hand and took it, squeezing it in comfort, to ground him from his thoughts.

“What, um, shit,” Marc cursed, here he was freaking out while you were the one who was pregnant, “what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I thought we could talk about this and decide together, you, me, Steven, and Jake.” You saw Marc grimince at the mention of Jake but understood where you came from. If he had it his way Jake wouldn’t get a vote or say anything, but as you’ve pointed out he was very much there.

Even though Marc could still feel the sting of betrayal at the thought of him.

“I’ll go first,” You said, pulling Marc from his thoughts, “I don’t know if we’re ready, I mean we never talked about it and we didn’t have the best examples growing up…but,” You paused, “I think we are not the people who raised us. You are not your mother, and I am not my guardian. I think if we both work hard and hold each other accountable, I think we may be able to pull it off.” You already knew you both wouldn’t be perfect, that you’ll fall short somewhere along the line. But a deep part of you, one that was selfish and irrational, wanted to give this a shot. But you knew if Marc said no, along with Steven and Jake, then you knew not going through with the pregnancy would probably be a wise choice, you would not bring a kid into this world only to be rejected by the other person who made them. You just wouldn’t.

Marc thought for a while, what would a kid with you look like? Memories of his past still haunted him, but all that he could see is a kid with dark curly hair and your eyes. He could see you laughing as you played with them, he could imagine the sleepless nights, the angsty teenage years, he could see going through it all with you. And you with a smile on your face as you’ve gotten what you deserve.

A family and a home filled with unconditional love.

Marc knew that if you both went through with this, you absolutely must never know about the events that lead up to this moment. Hiring a P.I to track you, you falling in love with that P.I only for Marc to kill him in front of you, threatening you, abducting you, killing those you loved in your name, and ultimately your attempt a few months previous to escape him, and how it ended with him sacrificing himself to keep you.

Marc knew he didn’t deserve you, that what he did was fucked up beyond belief. He understood that quite well.

But right now he can’t stop imagining a bundle in your arms, cooing as sunlight hit you.

And he couldn’t say no.

“She would be a wonderful mother,” Steven said in the mirror, Jake however was silent but Marc could sense it. Jake wanted this child just as much as Steven and him.

“We will try our best,” Marc said finally, “I will read every parenting book ever made if that’s what it takes.”

You felt like crying, a massive weight was just lifted off of your shoulders and you felt like you could finally breathe.

But as you wept into Marc’s chest and the night continued, a dark foreboding feeling lingered at the back of your mind.

You weren’t sure what that was about.

—

~8 months later~

You woke with a start, you clutched your chest as your heart beat rapidly. You felt damp, all over and you tried to even your breathing as you closed your eyes and counted back from a hundred. But every time you closed your eyes you would get these flashes. It wasn’t the first one, they would happen sporadically, never making sense, but they would always be accompanied with a strange sense of deja vu. Most of the time they didn’t make any sense and they didn’t last very long. Like you staring out of the window, you seemed to have a lot of flashes about staring out of a window, staring out into a world just beyond your reach. Then there are flashes of you reading books, and living inside this penthouse full of windows.

Then there were others.

You would be in some run down place with a woman with short curly brown hair, with freckles dusted along the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. You don’t know why but you felt like you knew her, that you loved her to some degree.

But how could you love a woman you’ve never met?

Then there were days you were unfamiliar with, you were happy, you dressed in business attire and did a typical nine to five day. You came home with a satisfied smile on your face.

But you don’t know who you were coming home to everyday.

You only remembered something about amber eyes. Whenever you see flashes of amber eyes your heart always hurts, like it’s been stabbed and you have no idea why. Oftentimes you would leave to go to the bathroom and cry because of the pain in your chest.

You didn’t want to worry Marc.

Strangely enough you never had flashes of Marc, or Steven, or even Jake.

For some reason it unsettled you.

You go to move when you feel a pop, and suddenly you go from damp to soaked. You looked down and sure enough there was a puddle on the ground that wasn’t there before.

Fuck

“Marc,” You say as he grumbled in return, “Marc,” You tried again as he stirred awake.

“What is it, Starlight?” He asked, reaching for your hand, “another craving?”

“My water broke.” You said casually, a long moment passed before you felt him springing from his side of the bed and rushing over to you, almost slipping on the puddle in the process.

“Ok,” He starts slowly, a complete contrast to his previous actions, “ok, stay um stay right there I’ll go get the hospital bag.” Before you could say anything, he was rushing around your home like a headless chicken. You smiled as you burned this memory into your mind, this memory of your goofball husband that you loved not remembering that he put the bag in the car a week ago.

“Shit,” He curses looking in the mirror, “STEVEN DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BAG!?!” You get up and start to look for the simplest thing to wear that wasn’t your night clothes.

“I don’t know I don’t know,” Steven says as you calmly fish out a casual maternity sundress. It was a warm night and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be wearing jeans for a hot minute.

“Idon’tknowIdon’tknow.” You hear Steven repeat as Marc switches back in order to calm Steven down. You casually put the sundress on and casually strolled by your husband to grab a pair of slippers. After slipping the shoes on without bending down which took a couple of minutes. After seeing that even after all that Marc still doesn’t remember you decide to help him.

“Marc,” you said sweetly as he was still looking for the bag, “Marc,” You repeated as you touched his arm. He looked at you as if just remembering that you were there and that you were the one whose water was just broken.

“You should sit down,” Marc said as he gently ushered you in a chair, “we may have to go without the bag we should get dressed-wait a minute,” Marc suddenly stops himself as he notices your change of attire, “when did you get dressed?”

“While you were running around like a headless chicken,” You answered simply, “and you put the bag in the trunk last week because you knew you were going to act like this.”

“I don’t think that was my thoughtful planning.” Marc said, before the subtle change happened. The frightened look in his eyes was replaced with concerned but calm ones.

“No, that would be me,” Jake said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steven asked before he changed back to Jake.

“The Host never asked.” He replies before helping you out of the chair gently, “let’s go angel.” Jake calmly helped you to the backseat of the car, making sure you were taken care of before going and changing himself. It was just a shirt and sweatpants but better than the pair of boxers he was wearing before.

—

The drive was relatively short to the hospital, however as soon as you got there the contractions started.

Apparently, your contractions were happening sooner rather than the 12 or so hours later.

Honestly, the whole birthing process was a blur to you, you felt the pain but you don’t remember Marc holding your hand.

With each contraction you were back in those visions, those flashes, only this time they had Marc.

You saw that curly haired woman again, and you saw them together, kissing. You felt your heart ache as you heard her name.

Layla.

Another contraction you saw yourself all bruised and battered, barely breathing as people beat you. And out the corner of your eye you saw Marc, dressed as Moon Knight, escape with Layla in his arms.

Visions kept happening with each contraction, you and Marc fighting, a man named Alec, SWORD.

You see yourself, trapped on the bus, you had never looked that afraid before, the look of terror etched to your face as you pounded against the door of the bus. You walked closer to Alec and Marc not expecting to hear them over your screams.

“You’ll never have her,” Alec said his amber eyes were the ones that hurt you, “even if you kill me you’ll never have her.”

“And why is that?” You hear Marc ask mockingly. You studied him, you could tell by the suit it was him, but he was…darker than you remembered.

“Because I have something you’ll never have again,”

a pause.

“Her heart.”

And with that, as quick as lightning, you saw Marc snap his neck and Alec lay lifeless on the ground.

And those dull, unseeing, amber eyes seemed to stare at you, almost tauntingly. As if to say “you thought you could forget this?”

But how could you forget this, you remember this, you knew this was real, but it didn’t make sense. Memories of Marc, all the happy ones. Baking together, loving together, eating popcorn while watching trash tv together.

Was any of it real?

You bellowed in pain, not just from the labor but it felt like your entire being was being split open, body and soul.

In rapid flashes you could see what your life with Marc was truly like.

You were angry with him, but deep down, you were also terrified. You fought everyday to keep your mind and spirit.

You saw yourself entangled with him, the amount of conflict in you was palpable. You knew you didn’t want it, but you did at the same time. The amount of grief and shame that filled you as you saw yourself holding back the tears as you cleaned yourself up was overwhelming.

Then events passed in a blur, Layla helping you escape with Jake's assistance, you and Layla talking, a week passing by and then Jake rushing you out. Saying it was for your safety. Then, in the rearview mirror, you saw it, the switch. Then Layla dying in the backseat, the way she lifelessly slumped haunted you.

“You’re no better than your mother” Your voice echoed in your ears.

“NONE OF THAT WAS REAL!” Marc’s voice bellowed.

The cold click of a gun’s safety turning off.

“NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world” your body felt like it was falling apart, atom by atom, “your moon and stars.”

Just as you thought you were going to die, you heard it.

A baby crying.

Your baby.

“Good,” You faintly hear as the world around you begins to fade into black as the pain ebbed away slowly, “You took everything from me, it’s about time I return the favor.”

—

Marc couldn’t decide if he was in heaven.

Or in hell.

He cradled his newborn daughter in his arms, he was so worried. For months he had been secretly dreading this moment, the moment he became a father. But now as he’s holding her, all he could feel was a love he never knew he was capable of. Each and every part of him loved her. Jake and Steven were in awe and for once, quiet. He beamed as he noticed that she scrunched her nose much like you did, something that he knew she inherited from you.

The fear was still there, and he suspected it always will be until the day he dies.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because his daughter was here.

If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he would’ve handled a son. He suspects he wouldn’t react nearly this affectionately.

But right now as he held onto your daughter he was worried. He was worried for you, you’ve been staring out that window a lot, the blank look in your eyes only disappeared when your daughter was in your arms.

He handed his daughter off to the nurse for another check up, one that he had requested to make sure that everything was ok. He kissed her gently on the forehead before walking over to where you sat. Marc sat gently on the bed next to you, and tried to notice the slight flinch that your body gave.

“What’s going on, Starlight?” Marc asked as he reached for your hand. You didn’t move your hand away but you also didn’t return the affection.

You mumbled something so quietly he didn’t understand what you had said.

“What?”

“Did you mean it?” You asked, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” Marc asked.

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world,” You said bitterly, “your moon and stars.”

His blood ran cold as he saw your eyes and as the words tumbled out of your mouth. Those were one of the last words you spoke before…before the incident.

“I remember,” you said, still not looking directly at him, “I remember it all.”

Those were the words he never wanted to hear, he could handle anything else, but not that you remember.

“I’ve been having these flashes since I found out I was pregnant,” You explained, “they were tame at first. Just me sitting sadly by a window, and then a girl I didn’t recognize, then this pair of amber eyes.” You took in a shaky breath, “the girl's name was Layla…she was my best friend and your first wife, and those amber eyes belonged to Alec or I guess his real name was Mack.” Marc fell to his knees, tears streamed down your face as he grasped both of your hands. He was on his knees for you, and you could barely look at him. “You killed them all.”

“For us,” Marc said, grasping your hands tighter, “I did it all for us.”

“How am I still alive?” You asked.

“I made another deal,” Marc said as he realized it was no use hiding it all from you now, “with Khonshu. My life for yours.” You nodded blankly at the wall before letting out a shaky breath.

“I couldn’t escape you in life,” You said, “and I couldn’t escape from you in death.” A long moment of silence ensued as you gave his hands a firm squeeze.

“I’ve been thinking,” You said, “I’ve spent the last 24 hours thinking. I love our daughter, I love her more than I ever thought possible. She deserves the life we never got, one with loving parents and a nice home.” A spark of hope lit up inside him. “There may never be a day where I will come to forgive you. I will always remember what you did and that will haunt me forever, and the guilt that people died because of me and I repay them by playing house with their murderer will weigh on my shoulders until the day I die.” Your thumb strokes his knuckles, “but I love my daughter more than anything, she is my world, moon and stars. And I want her to live as happily as possible, and if that means I have to learn to love you despite what you’ve done then that means that’s something I have to do.” Marc started crying in your lap, from relief or sadness he couldn’t tell.

“Smile Marc,” you said as you lifted his head and he saw your sweet smile and bitter eyes, “You’ve won.”

—

You had decided to name her Eva June Spector. Named after the new life she breathed into you, and for the month she was born in.

Sure enough appearance wise she took after her father, tanned skin, dark and curly hair, even the nose was a smaller version of his. But her eyes, her eyes were the same as yours.

Eva loved her father, and Marc was an amazing father, sure he blundered here and there. But he was nothing like his parents, and neither were you.

There were moments of affection between you two, it was almost impossible when you're constantly reminded that you made something wonderful with this man, but some days were too much for you and you couldn’t stand to look at him or to have him touch you. But you shoved it down in front of your daughter.

Because you would walk through hell with a smile on your face for her.

When you came back from the hospital you knew you weren’t the only one trapped within this gated community.

You knew Wanda was possessive, and with that she was extremely possessive of her wife. The same with the ex Captain of America, the Winter Soldier, the Black Widow. This entire gated community was full of trapped people.

And as it rained outside and with baby Eva on your lap, you sat across from Marc, a sly smile on his face as he moved his piece on the chess board.

“Checkmate”

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a-moonlit-omen · 2 years

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Oh you're going to be able to tell who my favorite MCYTs are by this post I know it.

Anyways

Khonshu forcefully adopting the MK System when they were kids, doesn't even need to be as a platonic yandere he can do it just because he felt like it, but only after they split. He gets Steven to except him near automatically, Marc takes some time to come around to Khonshu because he remembers his original parents still and has no idea what to expect with Khonshu, and Jake only relents after at least two years and Khonshu saving them from death at least three times.

There is at least one time one of the other gods try to take the boys away from Khonshu. And yes Khonshu goes ballistic everytime it happens because those are his kids, his little knights, like hell is he letting someone take them from him.

#moon knight #yandere khonshu #parental khonshu #forced adoption #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #khonshu #yes im a sbi fan fuck off #dark sbi just hits different ya know

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theyofotherwhat · 2 years

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Here psst have a moon knight drawing with a speedpaint https://youtu.be/ZixzAAnHF60

#my art #fanart #moon knight #art #marvel #digital art #digital aritst #moonknight #khonshu #khonshu art #blood #monster #gritty #dark #dark art

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

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"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

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kingcrow01 · 5 months

Text

DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

#dc #marvel #dc x marvel #fic rec #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #ao3

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

Note

moonboys and a reader who maladaptive daydreams?

hi, nonnie! thank you for this request, you must’ve seen my blog description haha. this is my first fic request which is very exciting! my inbox is always open so if you’d like to request something, i’d appreciate it. :) anyway, i hope you like it!

IMPLODING THE MIRAGE

Moon Knight x afab!reader (primarily Marc Spector) (10.6k+)

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

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: maladaptive daydreaming, insecure reader & negative perceptions of self, depictions of injury & violence, kidnapping, miscommunication, SMUT (inappropriate fantasizing, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics if you squint)

imploding the mirage — the killers

i had to do it, i had no other choice you’ve got to listen to the inside voice a bullet train will get you there fast but it won’t guarantee a long last sometimes it takes a little bit of courage and doubt to push your boundaries out beyond your imagining

He was the moon, and she was the stars.

It was serendipitous, how the couple had come to fall in love throughout the course of their divine adventures alongside each other—two servants to a pair of primordial Egyptian deities, serving as Avatars to protect those who could not protect themselves. She’d met him at a meeting of the Ennead, when he’d been called upon to answer for his actions against a human named Arthur Harrow, who was accused of attempting to raise Ammit from eternal isolation.

The trial hadn’t gone well, and certainly hadn’t worked in his favor, but her goddess protector had a soft spot for Khonshu, the God of the Moon—after all, he was the reason she had been given five extra days with which to bear her five children.

So her Avatar was secretly assigned to keep watch over the Moon Knight, to aid in his fight to keep Ammit contained and offer her services should he need them.

He was resistant at first, but Khonshu insisted that having Nut as an ally could only serve to benefit them in their journey—after all, she was the sky, and without her, the Moon could not rise.

Marc Spector and his alters didn't anticipate becoming so infatuated with the soft curve of her Avatar’s smile or the cosmos she seemed to hold within her eyes. But as time passed, they grew closer, and when she saved him again and again, the navy blue of her armor shimmering with glowing silver emblems of stars, he felt as if his soul was tethered to her. It seemed to be fate, as clear as a constellation, that their lives were somehow intertwined and their happenstance meeting was actually the result of some unseen gravitational pull, guiding them through the darkness until they found solace in one another.

He heard her sandal-clad feet softly hit the solid ground, her body drifting down from the sky to land beside him after her short flight in the air. He turned to look at her—the flowing robes of her ceremonial armor billowed in the evening breeze, her hair pulled back intricately with thin glittering bands of silver, adorned with five-pointed stars that captured the moonlight in her curls. She was ethereal, heavenly, celestial, and when she turned and smiled at him, he swore the planets aligned in some brief moment of rapture.

“Where to next, Moon Boy?”

She teased lightly, her nose crinkling with amusement. His hands twitched at his sides, unable to control the movement of his arm as it reached for her hand.

He heard Khonshu chuckle deeply from somewhere behind him, condescending and slightly mocking. Still, he always spoke kinder about the woman beside him than any other being on this Earth.

“I should’ve known you would become enamored with the little star. Nut always finds a way to reunite the beings of the night sky.”

Marc ignored him—he was too enthralled by the way her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of his fingers brushing her own, the hood and mask of his armor receding to reveal the tenderness of his gaze. He turned to face her, his other gloved hand reaching to cradle the side of her jaw. He watched as her gaze flickered down to his lips, and he smiled.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

He leaned forward to capture her lips with his own, swallowing her contented sigh as she melted into his touch—

“Jesus Christ!”

You nearly toppled forward when Marc abruptly yanked his arm away from you, his face contorted into a look of pain. You blinked once, then twice, eyes clearing to focus in on the blood staining your hands and the curved needle that was pinched tightly between your forefinger and thumb.

“The fuck was that? Are you even paying attention to what you’re doing?”

Marc hissed at you, cradling his injured forearm to his chest, gritting his teeth as your eyes widened in realization.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, Marc, I zoned out, here, just let me see—”

“Forget it, I’ll just do it myself.”

He snatched the suture from your hand and laid his arm back on the marbled countertop of your bathroom sink, giving you a clear view of the mistake you’d made—you’d laid the stitch nearly a full inch from where the edge of the gaping incision had started, sinking it into completely uninjured, healthy skin.

“Marc, stop, I’ll do it.”

You stopped him before he could hurt himself even more—he never had the patience to treat his wounds properly, but for ones that were this deep, it was smarter to close them by hand than wait several hours for his magical suit to heal it on its own.

He grunted in protest, but nonetheless allowed you to retrieve the needle from his hold and lean over his arm, tongue pinched between your teeth in concentration.

You were much more careful, this time, deliberate with each pull of the thread beneath his skin, finishing sewing shut the injury quickly. When you’d finally finished, you leaned forward to bite the end of the stitch and tear it away with your teeth. You reached for a piece of gauze, pouring a generous amount of saline solution onto the cloth in order to blot the excess blood from his skin.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, burning into your skull as if he was trying to read your mind. You sulked.

“I said I was sorry, Marc, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your words were soft, and he could hear the guilt that was churning in your stomach. He didn’t flinch when you began dabbing at the drying blood around the wound.

“S’fine. But—what happened? It’s like—you just tapped out for a second, there. Did you even hear what I was saying to you?”

You frowned.

“No, I’m sorry. I just—got lost in thought.”

“Hell of a time for that to happen.”

He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were still fixed on the skin of his arm, even though you’d successfully wiped away most of the remaining blood.

“I was just saying that—that I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me.”

Your eyes darted to his face, surprised at the vulnerability he was displaying by expressing his gratitude.

“I mean—I never figured that when I’d stumbled onto your balcony all those months ago, beaten to all hell, that I’d meet someone who was willing to patch me up over and over again. Well—at least, before you stabbed me with a needle.”

Your eyes fell again, cheeks reddening at his jab. But he just laughed warmly, lifting his arm to rest his hand on your shoulder. Your bristled beneath his fingers, although his touch was nothing more than a friendly expression of appreciation.

“I’m just teasing you. But either way—just wanted to say thanks. Steven told me that I don’t say it enough, so...”

Now you laughed. It was more of a scoff, really, accompanied by the roll of your eyes as you reached for the knobs on the faucet, rinsing the blood from your fingers.

“Of course Steven made you.”

A lopsided grin found its way onto his face, and when you looked at him again, there was a twinkle in his eye. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you gazed at him—ebony curls spilling messily against his forehead, his lips quirked upwards at the corners, the fondness that was lingering beneath his brown irises. Was it possible? Could he really care about you the way you cared for him?

You turned away, standing and exiting the bathroom quickly before you could make a fool of yourself, face heating up at your own naïveté. Of course he didn’t feel that way about you. You were just—you. Only in the sanctuary of your imagination would he ever look at you and see anything beyond just a nurse playmate, or even maybe a friend.

You heard his heavy footsteps follow you back into your flat, where you wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a couple glasses.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Spare bed’s already made, I washed the sheets since last time you bled all over them and didn’t even tell me.”

You turned on the tap to fill the two cups with water. You were certain Marc hadn’t remembered to drink anything since his most recent escapade as a masked vigilante, and being around him always tended to make your mouth run dry.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You slid the glass of water across the countertop towards him, leaning back against the kitchen island to sip at your own. You watched him above the rim of your glass—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he took a large swig of the cool liquid, the way a stray droplet of water dribbled down his chin when he pulled the glass back, the way his hand came to wipe it away, the plush of his bottom lip supple beneath the swipe of his fingers.

She fell back against the mattress, breath temporarily stolen from her lungs as she felt the heat of his lips hungrily mouthing at any exposed skin it could reach—her jawline, her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. A soft whine fell from her mouth and Marc swiftly lifted himself back to her face to swallow the sound, tongue sinking into her mouth to taste her.

Her fingers clawed at the fabric of his t-shirt, twisting and yanking him impossibly closer, legs lifting to wrap around his waist to press the heat of her core against the growing tent in his pants. A low groan escaped his chest as he rutted against her, pulling back to take stock of the hazy fog of lust that clouded her eyes and the O-shape of her lips as she let out a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, Marc.”

She whispered, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulderblades.

“Want you—need you so bad.”

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked once, then twice, finding Marc's dark gaze staring straight at you as his voice pulled you back to reality. Your brows lifted in horror when you realized you’d shamelessly been ogling at him, too engrossed in your thoughts to notice how long you’d been standing there.

“Shit, I—sorry.”

You rubbed at your eyes with your fingers, hoping that maybe if you pressed hard enough, the image of Marc’s body hovering above you would erase itself from your mind. It didn’t work.

You heard the clank of his now-empty glass as he set it down on the granite countertop, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You should be used to the rush of heat to your face by now—just being in Marc’s company caused you to blush uncontrollably, but still, the discomfort of your ruddy cheeks made your pulse quicken. Your gaze flickered down to your feet, eyes meeting the stupid fucking bunny slippers that you wore to accompany your fleece pajama bottoms. Fucking embarrassing.

“It’s nothing, Marc.”

You whispered quietly in response, although nausea was beginning to settle in the pit of your stomach. You were out of control—this man was driving you insane.

He studied you for a moment longer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but when you didn’t look back up at him, he just sighed.

“Okay. I’ll just—leave you alone, then. Goodnight.”

There were tears pricking the back of your eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, to come share your bed instead of the one in your guest room, to kiss his stupidly handsome face.

“Towels are folded in the bathroom for you, and there’s clothes in the wardrobe if you want to change.”

You said instead, turning to refill your glass of water in the sink behind you. If he heard you, he didn’t respond—you listened to his footsteps disappear down the hall before the door to the guest bedroom creaked shut with a quiet click. Your shoulders immediately slumped forward, eyes squeezed shut tightly in an effort to combat the desperate urge to break down.

Her eyes were full of detestation as she glared down at him, nostrils flared with rage. He wanted to shrink beneath her disapproval.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

The woman started, and in spite of her towering figure looking down at him, he couldn’t help but gawk at the way the moonlight framed her, her silhouette outlined by the subtle glow of the night sky behind her. She offered him a hand and he took it, allowing her to yank him to his feet without an ounce of gentleness.

“You’re lucky I was here, Lockley, or things would’ve ended differently.”

She hissed, dusting herself off as if to showcase the strenuous effort she had put into saving his ass. He scowled behind his mask, the blood from the wound on his forearm beginning to soak through the bandages of his suit, tingeing the cream-colored fabric a dark crimson.

“I don’t need your help, estrellita. I was handling it.”

She scoffed as he turned on his heel to stomp away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Yeah, sure looked like you were handling it—why didn’t you call me? Nut had to drag me out of bed so you didn’t get yourself killed. Didn’t the old bird tell you we were together on this?”

He scowled, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Yeah, he did, and I said no. We are not partners. We’re hardly even friends.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the way her face fell and her brows creased causing a pang of guilt to stab through his already-sore chest. He sighed.

“Estrellita, I didn’t mean—”

“Why do you push me away?”

She interrupted, and Jake was taken aback by the question.

“What do you mean?”

“You need me, Jake. We need each other. I’m just—I just want to help you, why won’t you let me help you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at her as her eyes flooded with tears. At his silence, she shook her head, turning away to stare up into the star-filled sky.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Moon Knight. The stars and the moon—you can’t have one without the other.”

He could see the reflection of the crescent-shaped moon in her glassy eyes, the soft glow painting her face with silvery beams of light.

You’d left the balcony door wide open—your routine was fairly habitual, now. A mug of warm tea was cradled in your fingers as you curled up in the wicker chair, eyes flitting across the scattered stars that were visible from your tiny apartment complex.

You watched him sit down beside you in your periphery, the movement to your left pulling you from your reverie. He reached for the glass of bourbon you'd set out on the table in front of him.

You sat in silence for awhile, finding comfort in the man’s quiet presence. You liked that about Jake—you never felt like you had to fill the air with meaningless conversation. He was perfectly content to just enjoy your company, the same as you enjoyed his.

You heard the ice in his glass clink against the side as he took a sip.

“Are you going to tell them?”

Neither of you looked at each other when he spoke—the question was spoken out into the world, not really directed towards you, although you knew what he meant.

Jake was too fucking perceptive for his own good. Even when he was silent, he was always there, watching, listening, observing—even if the other alters were oblivious to the yearning that was thinly veiled within your eyes, he certainly wasn’t. You sighed.

“No.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, but something about his lack of verbal response bothered you, itching at the back of your brain. You turned to scowl at him.

“What?”

Jake hardly spared you a glance, barely quirking a brow at your emotionally-charged reaction as he shook his head.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

You glared, fingers anxiously tapping at the rim of your mug. The contours of Jake’s face were sharp in the dim light of the moon, features accentuated by the shadows. He finally turned to look at you.

“You know what I think, nena. You’re only hurting yourself. And your constant...daydreaming. It’s not as subtle as it once was. You—You should talk to them. Or me.”

The last bit of his proposal caught you off guard. His eyes had already drifted elsewhere when he said it, staring into his half-empty glass of liquor, but your brows lifted in surprise.

“I—you?”

He glowered playfully.

“Don’t sound so surprised, nena. I always listen to you.”

That was true. Some of your fondest memories with Jake were of late nights spent out on your balcony, getting drunk on cheap wine and sharing stories.

“Yeah, you’re good at listening, but not so much the talking part.”

Jake shrugged, although he nodded in understanding. He was all too aware of his own weaknesses.

You took a sip of your chamomile tea, letting its warmth combat the chill of the evening air.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

You asked quietly, and even without elaborating, Jake knew what you were referring to. He sighed, tossing back the last of his bourbon before setting it on the small table between you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve told you before. It’s not my place. I know what they think, but not what they feel.”

You huffed quietly, although deep down, you knew he was right. It wasn’t his place to share how Marc or Steven felt about you. You sort of admired the way he was so strict in his moral obligations—especially considering the lengths you were willing to go in order to change his mind.

Jake stiffened when he felt your hand rest on his bicep, fingers wrapping around it and squeezing lightly.

“But what about how you feel?”

His jaw rippled, and you felt the muscle beneath your fingers tense at your coy words. You could feel the restraint within him as he sat up abruptly, pulling away so his arm fell from your grasp. He still didn’t look at you.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel, nena. Not until you talk to Marc. He—you were his first. I’m not going jeopardize your relationship with him until he knows the truth.”

Anger flared within you.

“I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone. My choices are my own.”

Jake flinched, eyes softening as they flickered over to you.

“You’re right, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—you have to understand. He—I can’t go behind his back like this. Yo no sería capaz de vivir conmigo mismo.”

“But you can’t even tell me if he feels the same way?”

You asked, and he could hear the pain in your voice as your tone wavered slightly. You’d had this conversation many times before, but things had been escalating recently—perhaps because it was getting increasingly difficult for you to be content in the reality you lived in.

Jake’s eyes were full of sympathy as he regarded you.

“No, nena. I’m sorry.”

You turned away.

“But you need to tell him. And Steven, too. They deserve to know. And so do you.”

You heard his weight shift as he stood to head back to bed, having spent too much time keeping the body awake—he didn’t want his alters to grow suspicious at the exhaustion when they woke in the morning.

“What if he breaks my heart?”

He paused in the threshold on the doorway, glancing back at you when he heard the thickness in your throat as your eyes welled with tears.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jake pursed his lips, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he pondered his response. Finally, he released a long sigh.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, nena. He’d be crazy not to.”

The smell of cinnamon wafted down the hallway as Steven rose from his slumber. There was a gentle melody floating in the air as he pulled himself from the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bare feet padding along the tiled floor towards the source of the noise.

She was singing quietly to herself, back towards him as she chopped the fresh strawberries into fourths. He couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of it all—the woman he loved, that he fought beside, making breakfast for them to share. His heart felt whole.

He sidled up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist and his body pressing flush against her back. He placed a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck, her hair pulled up in a sloppy updo.

“G’mornin’, darling.”

He hummed sleepily, and he felt her chest rumble with an airy giggle as she leaned into his touch.

“Hi, handsome. Sleep okay?”

He reached over her shoulder to steal a strawberry from the cutting board, taking a bite of the succulent fruit before offering the other half to her by pressing it to her lips. She smiled and happily accepted his offering.

“Would’ve slept even better if I’d woken up to your face beside me.”

She threw her head back, leaning against his chest as she laughed brightly—his favorite sound.

“Oh, boohoo. Sorry for getting up early to make you breakfast.”

She teased, and Steven pressed his face into her hair, the smell of her coconut shampoo enticing him. His arms reached to rest on the countertop to either side of her, successfully caging her in. He heard her breath hitch as the movement of the knife in her hand stalled, his body pressing up more firmly against her—enough so that she could feel the hardness of his manhood against the flesh of her ass.

“The strawberries are sweet, darling, but I’d rather have something even sweeter for breakfast this mornin’, yeah?”

“G’mornin’, darling.”

The knife fumbled in your grasp and the blade slipped across your fingers, slicing a divot in the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

“Steven! Shit!”

You immediately dropped the knife and rushed towards the sink, rinsing your wound under the cold water to inspect the damage and dilute the blood.

“Oh, Gods, m’so sorry, love—are you alright?”

You could feel his body creeping up behind you, an arm reaching around to grab yours in an attempt to investigate the source of your discomfort. The warmth of his presence against your back startled you, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks as you reached for a towel and sidestepped, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“It’s—I’m fine. It’s just a tiny cut, it’s no big deal.”

You brushed it off, although your palm was beginning to throb. You pulled the washcloth away from the afflicted area, finding it soaked with a generous amount of your blood.

“Looks like it hurts. Can I—may I help you with it?”

There was trepidation in his big brown eyes, obviously put off by the hastiness with which you’d pulled away from him. You surrendered yourself, offering a sigh and a slow nod.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You found yourself in a similar position to the previous night, although this time, the roles were reversed—and your wound was from an unfortunate kitchen incident, not a scuffle with a group of evil antique smugglers.

Steven’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he secured a piece of gauze on the injury with medical tape, winding it around your palm so it fit snugly against the area. His hands were nimble and his touch was painfully gentle, the pads of his fingers just barely skimming over your skin in an effort to prevent you from more discomfort. A chill crept up your spine at the close proximity.

He looked rather satisfied with himself when he’d finished, shoving the medical supplies back into the bin beneath your sink that you had specially packed for him.

“There we are—good as new.”

He smiled cheerily at you, and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but grin back at him. Your mind briefly darted back to your conversation with Jake the night before; then the unholy thoughts you’d been having this morning when Steven had snuck up on you. Gods, you really were getting out of control...

Steven led you from the bathroom and you returned to your post, rinsing the knife and the sliced strawberries to ensure they weren’t contaminated. You stepped over to the stove to check the steel-cut oatmeal that had been simmering—Steven’s favorite. You gave it a few good stirs before deciding that it was finished, filling up two bowls with generous servings and sprinkling the top with strawberries, brown sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon. Steven was already seated at you breakfast bar when you turned to offer him his meal.

“Bon apétit.”

You flourished playfully, passing the bowl in front of him as you seated yourself on the stool across the way. His eyes crinkled with appreciation when he smiled.

“Oh, it smells bloody lovely. Thank you, darling.”

He always called you that, you rationalized. It was nothing more than a term of endearment—a friendly pet name.

You ate in silence for awhile, save for the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain and the birds chirping from your open window. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him as he slipped a strawberry past his lips, something reminiscent of a moan escaping him as he savored the flavor of the fruit. Your face flushed bright red.

“Yes, darling—just like that, please.”

He was whimpering beneath her, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at her from where she straddled him, sliding her naked and exposed core over his boxer-clad erection.

“You wanna be inside me, Steven?”

She cooed, leaning forward to kiss along his stubbled jawline, and he moaned wantonly, hips rutting up against her.

“Gods, yes, love, please, I can’t—”

“S’there somethin’ on my face?”

Panic flooded you at the bewildered expression on Steven’s face, his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth in case you'd been gawking at some remnants of food on the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks already turning pink.

“I—No, no, there’s not, I—sorry. I was just—just thinking.”

He gave you a brief scrutinizing look before shrugging and diving back into the remainder of his oatmeal.

“What were you thinkin’ about?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh, it’s—nothing, really. Sometimes I just—space out, I guess.”

You offered sheepishly, toying with the last few bites of your food with your spoon—your appetite was suddenly gone.

“You seem to do that a lot, yeah? S’everything alright?”

“Yes.”

You answered him a bit too quickly, hastily jumping to end the conversation before it even began. His brows furrowed, watching as you quickly grabbed both bowls to busy yourself with cleaning up.

He wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer—in fact, it only served to startle him more. He watched you carefully as you began to viciously scrub at the blue porcelain bowls with a sponge.

“Are you...sure? I’m just—you’re worryin’ me a bit, yeah? And with last night, with Marc—if somethin’s the matter, you know you can always talk to us, ‘lright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take in a slow, careful breath in an effort to soothe your frazzled nerves.

“Yeah, I know, Steven—thank you. But—but everything’s just fine, really.”

She’s lying.

Steven was surprised to hear Jake’s voice echo from the back of the headspace—it wasn’t often that he offered internal commentary to any conversations outside of when he was fronting.

And how do you know that?

Marc quipped back in his mind—Steven hated when they argued in the headspace, especially when he was the one in control of the body. His brain felt too full and it was easy for him to get overstimulated.

What—you think she’s telling the truth, jefe?

Marc didn’t respond, and Steven was silently grateful that their quarrel had ended quickly. Still, he knew his alters were correct—you definitely weren’t ‘just fine.’

But the last thing he wanted to do was push you away, especially since it already felt like you were putting up a wall between you, keeping him at arm’s length.

He let out a long sigh, standing up from the bar to get ready to depart for his shift at the museum.

“Well, thank you for brekky, love, and for—everything else.”

You startled when you turned, finding him standing directly behind you, pulling you into his warm embrace without any due warning. God, why was he so fucking sweet? Guilt gnawed away are your insides—Jake was right. He really did deserve to know the truth, why you were spending more time living in your fantasyland than grounded in reality—but surely it’d scare him off. Marc, too.

Perhaps it was just better to keep imagining what it would be like to be loved by them—at least without being outright rejected, there would always be that small sliver of hope gleaming in the back of your mind, that tiny semblance of ‘what if’ that you let linger.

You melted into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder.

“Anytime, Steven, really. It’s my pleasure.”

There was always a smile on her face when they departed—even if their time away from each other was difficult, she knew she could look forward to the next time they'd see each other. The way his big brown eyes would light up with elation when he saw her, like an overexcited puppy reuniting with its owner.

The grin remained on her face, still, after he’d kissed her goodbye and they parted ways. She hummed softly to herself as she journeyed down the hallway to remake the bed and tidy up the room.

He never did remember to tuck in the blankets. She laughed quietly to herself and she entered the room, filled with the distinctive cypress scent of him. She reached to fluff the pillows—

Oh. That shouldn’t be there, should it?

Your fingers wrapped around the small white trinket, strung along on a leather braided band. You lifted it up to your face to inspect it more closely—it was an pendant carved from ivory, shaped like a cross with a loop at the top. An ankh—the key of life—you recalled, as Steven had once taught you. There was a certain texture that ran along the sides, and only when you brought the object right up to your nose were you able to see that there was a teeny tiny pattern etched into the surface. Hieroglyphics.

Shit, you realized. This looked like something that would be in the museum Steven worked at—although it looked a bit too high quality to be sold in the gift shop. Nonetheless, you realized that it must’ve slipped from his pocket while he was getting dressed. What if it was important?

You wandered back to the kitchen and tried calling his cell, once, then twice, without receiving an answer. He was probably already being berated by Donna—oh, well. The museum was on your way to work anyhow, just one bus stop before the café that you worked at. You could swing by and give it to him before your shift.

You glanced down at your phone to shoot him a quick text.

hey, you forgot something here i’ll drop it off for you in a bit x

It was only when you were strolling down the street with the pendant strung around your neck that a thrill of excitement ran up your spine.

What if this was from his latest mission?

It wasn’t something you’d considered before, but now that you thought about it, it seemed like the likeliest explanation. The boys didn’t tell you much about their escapades as the masked lunar vigilante, save for the vague explanations about the injuries they asked you to patch up—but you knew enough to be two-and-two together. This must be the ancient artifact he had been sent to retrieve on Khonshu’s behalf the previous night.

You suppressed a smile by sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, filled with giddiness. You were actually helping.

“Where is it?”

A venomous voice seethed, peering down at the crumpled form of the man at his feet. Marc was hunched over, arms chained behind his back, blood from his abdomen beginning to soak through the white fabric of his suit. His mouth tasted like copper, teeth coated in the sticky red substance as a gruff hand came to harshly grip his jaw, forcing his eyes upward. He sneered.

“I told you. I don’t know.”

Another punch collided with his face, this time connecting with the bridge of his nose and sending him careening backwards, landing against the concrete with a grunt.

“You’re full of shit. We know it was you at the burial site, Spector. We have eyewitnesses. You’re the only person in the world who could have possibly taken it.”

To the man's utter surprise, Marc Spector began to laugh. It was a wet sound, his mask receding so he could spit out a wad of crimson-tinted bile as he chuckled wolfishly, his lips curling up into a snarl. The perpetrator felt fear shoot through him at the look on his face.

“You’re wrong, actually. See, I was there.”

He clarified, eyes glinting dangerously. His attacker stumbled backwards as a harsh silver light blinded him briefly, and when his vision cleared, the Moon Knight had risen to his feet, freed from his shackles.

“I just wasn’t alone.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he slowly turned around, met face to face with intense glare of a woman, her eyes still glowing with residual power. She tilted her head at him condescendingly, before lifting her right hand—the white ankh charm was dangling from her fingertips as she smiled coyly up at him.

“Looking for this?”

She cooed, smirking innocently, and before the man could even blink, she had pounced, wrestling him to the floor and pressing his face down against the cold flooring, cheek smushed against the pavement. She straddled his back, using her weight to hold him still while her fingers made a curling motion in the air—a rope of pure silvery light materialized with the sweep of her hand, binding the man’s hands behind his back with tendrils of starlight.

Her partner was dealing with the other two lackeys, one already laid out on the ground and the other lifted in the air by his neck, one of Marc’s gloved hands raising him up with his fingers pressing beneath his jaw.

When he stopped resisting, Marc let his body collapse to the floor in a heap before he turned back to face the woman, whose chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths. Even after a fight, she somehow appeared graceful and collected—she reached upward and pulled a stray hair from her eyes, tucking it back into it’s place beneath her star-laden headdress. Their eyes met briefly.

“Thanks.”

Marc swallowed, his head bowed low in embarrassment. He waited for the jab to come—‘I told you so.’ He deserved it, really. It was stupid to come in alone.

Instead, he was startled when she approached him softly, her eyes glittering as she lifted her hand to gently brush over his cheekbone, her smile gentle and kind.

“I’ll always have your back. You know that, right?”

He looked away, ridden with guilt and remorse, but she urged his eyes back to her with the nudge of her fingers.

“Marc. I mean it.”

He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes as he sniffed, trying to play off his emotions with fabricated nonchalance.

“Yeah, I know.”

She nodded once, withdrawing her hand from his face before lifting the ancient artifact up to his face, waving it for emphasis.

“We should probably get this to the old bird, then, huh?”

Her head snapped to the side at the gust of wind that abruptly passed them, her eyes trailing up the heavenly form of the aforementioned deity, the slope of his ivory beak towering above her. She swallowed—she’d never actually seen him before, only heard of him in passing from his Avatar. Khonshu.

Time seemed to freeze, briefly, as her breath slowly made its way back to her lungs. The skeletal bird tilted his domineering skull downward, staring her down with intensity.

“Wake up, little star.”

Her brows furrowed, her jaw dropping to reply, but he interrupted.

“You are not a part of this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Her head started to swim, the image in front of her turning hazy as her vision began to blur. She blinked profusely. This isn’t a part of the script, this isn’t supposed to happen—

“Wake up!”

With a jolt, you were pulled from your daydream—just in time for a hand to slip over your mouth to muffle your scream before everything went dark.

When your eyes blinked open, heavy with exhaustion, you were staring up at the white ceiling of your bedroom. You made a move to sit up, but the movement caused a throbbing pain to bloom in the back of your skull, forcing you back down against the pillows as a groan of discomfort fell from your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to regain your bearings, when a set of heavy footsteps grabbed your attention from the hallway.

He faltered in the doorway when he made eye contact with you, his dark brows furrowed heavily with concern, dark purple bags settled beneath his lower lashes. When his initial shock wore off, his jaw set as he approached you slowly, a glass of tap water clutched in his left hand. He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, mindful not the nudge you.

“Marc?”

You croaked, your throat hoarse and dry, and he wordlessly reached forward, propping you further up onto the pillows before lifting the glass to your lips.

“Drink.”

He said sternly, pressing the rim to your mouth, and you obliged blindly, letting him tip the contents of the cup back into your mouth as you took slow, tentative sips. When he was satisfied with your water intake, he pulled the glass away and set it on the bedside table, the movement punctuated by a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him carefully, brows knit together in confusion.

“I—what happened?”

You asked slowly, sitting yourself upward just a bit more. The pain in your head was lessening, although their was still a dull ache lingering at the back of your neck. You could see his jaw ripple again as he clenched his teeth, his body facing the door and his eyes focused on the wall across from him. You studied his profile carefully before he ran a tired hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers.

“What do you remember?”

He prompted, and you hesitated, thinking back on the last thing you recalled. You remembered leaving for work, and finding the little white pendant you were planning on returning—and you remember getting lost in another fantasy before a hand clamped around your mouth and—

“Was I kidnapped?”

You asked incredulously, eyes blowing wide with realization as you recalled the sensation of a strong grasp around your face and neck before your fell unconscious. You watched his lip twitch with frustration.

“No. Well—yes. But you, I mean—what the fuck were you thinking?”

He finally turned to look at you, and when he did, you immediately wanted to shrink away and evaporate. His eyes were fiery, burning red hot with fury, the disapproving expression on his face striking something deep in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

You asked quietly, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes, and Marc stood up, running a hand through his unruly curls as he took in a deep breath, obviously attempting to maintain some semblance of composure.

“You almost got yourself killed—bringing that charm with you, parading it around like a trophy.”

“I didn’t know, Marc, I just—”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t let you get wrapped up in all of this—fuck, if I hadn’t been there...”

His back was towards you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, his body heaving with heavy panting breaths. You felt small, like a child being reprimanded. You felt your eyes flood with tears.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

His voice was firm and harsh as he snapped over his shoulder at you, glaring.

“You can’t help. You’re not a part of this.”

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, desperation clawing inside of you as you threw back the blankets, swinging your legs off the side of the mattress so you could approach him.

“But maybe I can, Marc, if you’d just give me a chance, if you’d let me—”

“Stop!”

He whipped around to face you, voice louder than you'd ever heard it before. He was yelling, towering over you as he snarled, fuming.

“Just stop. If you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself and a lot of other people hurt. You’re not a fucking Avatar—”

“You don’t think I know that?”

Marc flinched when you matched his intensity, the tears falling down your cheeks a stark contrast from the sheer anger that dominated your expression.

“You don’t think I realize that? Or think about it every goddamn night when I have to sit here, alone, wondering if you’re gonna show up, or if you’re somewhere dead and I can’t do anything but wait.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to swallow your tears down as you broke down in front of the man, your internal conflict reaching a boiling point and spewing out of you without warning.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could be out there with you, doing something, helping, anything—how often I imagine what it would be like if I wasn’t fucking useless, if I was actually a part of—”

“What did you just say?”

Your eyes snapped open, and your anger faltered when you saw the look of pure horror on Marc’s face, his skin looking several shades paler than it had before. Your mind was reeling, trying to look back on what you said, what your mistake had been, but he quickly clarified for you.

“Did you just—are you saying you wish you were an Avatar?”

His body was rigid, his expression suddenly stony and impenetrable as he looked down at you, offering a barely perceptible shake of his head as he grimaced.

“How could you—how could you possibly want that? Why would you ever—”

You could see his eyes turn glassy as he turned away, his chest beginning to heave again as he ran both of his hands through his hair anxiously, his gaze suddenly appearing frenzied. His words were laced with something adjacent to betrayal.

“You have no idea what—what I wouldn’t give to go back to my life before all of this, to—to not carry this weight, to not—I fucking kill people, do you not understand that? I’m a monster, because my life is fucking controlled by a monster, and you wish you were like me? You wanna suffer like this?”

“At least we’d be suffering together.”

It was barely more than a whisper, your addition, but Marc caught it. You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore—you turned and sat back on the bed, folding your hands in your lap and staring down at your fingers as your heart finally poured out of your chest.

“I don’t know what else I could do, Marc. I don’t know any other way to get you to actually see me.”

“See you?”

He asked incredulously, face marred with confusion, and your lip quivered as you looked anywhere but at him, awaiting his rejection as you spoke.

“I just—all I’ve ever wanted was to be able to help you. To—for you to trust me, for you to—to care about me, and—and the only scenario I can actually imagine you wanting me is if I’m not myself, I’m a version of myself that’s actually strong and capable and—”

You stifled a sob, your face scrunching up as your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective stance, huddling inward as you cried.

“—I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but I just—I want to be more than I am because—because I want to matter to you, Marc, but I know that won’t happen because I’m just—I’m just me.”

Marc fell silent. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you squeezed your bleary eyes shut, forcing yourself to take slow, deliberate inhales despite your desire to hyperventilate. You felt like the room was closing in on you, the walls shrinking and shrinking and you wished the space would swallow you whole.

“What have I done to ever make you think you don’t matter to me?”

His voice was soft and quiet, and when you blinked your tear-filled eyes open, he was staring at you, a look of genuine hurt on his chiseled features. You stuttered.

“I—what?”

“I—”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Why would you ever think that I don’t care about you? That you have to—to be someone else for that to happen?”

He sounded broken, his big brown eyes wide and imploring, and the sight made your chest feel tight. You pressed the butts of your palms into your eyes.

“I don’t know, Marc. You’re—you’re a fuckin’ superpowered badass who was chosen by an ancient Egyptian god to beat up monsters and go on these epic missions, and—and how can I even compete with that? I don’t even understand why you waste your time with me.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that?”

You startled when he took a few hulking steps towards you, his brows creasing in a look of frustration.

“If you’re so convinced that I’m some superior being to you—which I’m not—then rationalize that, for me. Why would I keep coming back if I didn’t care about you?”

Confusion flashed across your face as you contemplated his question.

“Because—because I patch you up when you get hurt, and I—and I take care of you. You only come here when you need something—”

“But that’s not true.”

He insisted, sounding exasperated with your obstinance.

“I have a magic suit of armor that heals me, I don’t even need you to stitch me back together—”

“But you told me—”

“Well, I lied.”

He snapped, his arms crossing over his chest, and you felt a foreign feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach as his hands came up to rub at his jaw—a nervous habit.

“It was an excuse, and honestly, not even a very convincing one. An excuse to see you.”

Your head was starting to pound again, a dull ache blooming behind your eyes as your mind continued to reel. It didn’t make any sense.

“But you—you never needed an excuse. I would’ve dropped everything for you, Marc—for all three of you.”

“I know.”

He nodded sadly, his face pained as he flinched at your words.

“And that’s what’s so bad about all of this. I shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t feel that way about me. I’m—it’s dangerous. I’ve been trying so hard to push you away because if something happens to you, if you get hurt—that’s on me. And I don’t know what I’d do with myself if—”

“I’m a big girl, Marc.”

You defended, and he seemed impressed with the conviction of your tone.

“You’ve never been anything but honest about the kind of life you live, the kind of things you do—if that scared me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now. I made that choice for myself.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, his lips parting to scold you or deny your claims, but there was resolve in his eyes. You watched as he slowly walked towards the bed, slumping into a seated position beside you, utterly defeated.

“I know.”

It was difficult for you to focus with the proximity of your bodies. He’d left a generous gap between the two of you, but his legs were spread wide as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and your legs were almost touching. It was unbearable.

“I always thought you were taking advantage of me.”

You spoke smally, a bit ashamed and hesitant to admit the truth, and you saw Marc’s shoulders tense before he hung his head low, a deep sigh coming from his chest.

“Yeah. Jake told me that you might be feeling that way.”

Your eyes darted to his face, taken completely by surprise.

“He—he did?”

Marc chuckled ruefully, scoffing a bit at his alter.

“And I never fuckin’ listened. Told me I needed to come clean—be honest about how I feel, or else I’ll just keep hurting you more—”

“I didn’t realize he’d actually tried to talk to you about it.”

Marc’s brows furrowed.

“Wait, are you—did you tell him that?”

You blushed, feeling somewhat guilty as you nodded. You weren’t proud of the fact that you’d been talking about Marc and Steven behind their backs to their other alter.

“Why did—why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Marc leaned towards you, trying to catch your gaze with his, but you quickly looked forward again, eyes focusing in on your shaky hands.

“I didn’t know if—I never had to question things with Jake. He’s never been shy about how he feels about me.”

“Jake’s never been shy about anything in his entire goddamn life.”

You actually giggled at that, Marc’s tone sour and somewhat envious, but a soft smile easily curled on his lips at the sound of your laughter. When your amusement faded slightly, your breath caught in your throat when you felt a warm hand fall atop your knee, thumb rubbing over the flesh gently. You stared at the place where his skin met yours, heat flushing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. If I would’ve known sooner—if he’d have told me—”

You shook your head quickly, dismissing his apology.

“No, don’t. I made him promise me he wouldn’t tell you. And—and the reason I didn’t say anything is, well—he would never tell me if you felt the same, so I didn’t—I just kind of assumed you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand why you think so little of yourself.”

His fingers gripped your knee a bit more firmly, the heat of his hand traveling upwards despite your attempts to stop it.

“You really think—thought the only way I’d want you is if you were an Avatar?”

You laughed wetly, swiping the last of your tears from beneath your eyes as you shook your head abashedly.

“When you say it out loud, it sounds so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid.”

He corrected, and you froze when you felt his hand lift from your knee to reach towards your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he could see you more clearly. His fingers slipped beneath your jaw and gently coaxed your head to face him. You forgot how to breathe.

“It’s just not true.”

“Baby, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Avatar or not.”

She let out a quiet gasp at his confession, face lighting up with delight as he surged forward and captured her lips with his own, whimpering against her mouth as his arms encircled her body. He guided her back towards the bed, laying her out beneath him, looking absolutely heavenly, truly ravishing, and the sight made him ravenous as he worshipped her, starting by dragging his tongue—

“Hey. Where’d you go?”

It was only a brief moment of wistfulness, your daydream, but Marc saw the way your eyes misted and filled with a faraway look. He let his fingers dance across the softness of your neck before reaching to cradle your jaw in his hand, fingers threading into the hair behind your left ear.

You blinked away your reverie, trying to ground yourself in the present regardless of how desperately you wanted to fantasize about how much you craved him, how much you just wished he wanted you—

“Sorry.”

You uttered, voice barely above a whisper, and you blinked up at him through your wet lashes, doe-eyed. Your shame quickly melted away into something entirely different when you saw the ghost of a smile flicker over his lips.

“What were you thinking about?”

Your breathing stuttered, and you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off quickly, the timbre of his voice low and gravelly.

“You can tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it was, whatever you want—I’ll give it to you.”

It all became too much too quickly—the swirling heat of desire coiling lowly in your abdomen, the warmth of his exhales across your face, the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheek, the almost taunting gleam in his dark eyes. His promise emboldened you, and without much thought, you surged forward and captured his lips in your own, whimpering against his mouth as your arms encircled his body.

He was quick to meet your pace, his free arm twisting to wrap around your lower back so he could pull you into his lap, one of your hands sinking into his brown curls and the other digging into his right shoulder. You heard him groan into your lips and you took the opportunity to sink your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss as you pressed your body flush against him, desperately seeking as much closeness as possible.

When his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw and throat, you were pulled out of your stupor.

“Wait—wait.”

You whispered, fingers tugging at his curls so you could see his face. His brows furrowed in concern as he looked at you with worried eyes, his lips dewy and kiss-swollen.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked carefully, his voice gruff but still attentive, and you lifted both hands to cradle his face, thumbs sweeping over his cheekbones as you drank in his features, studying his face carefully.

“I just—”

You let out a shaky exhale, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

“I need to know that this is real. That you’re—that this is all real.”

He pulled away from you slightly, grinning somewhat wolfishly at you.

“This is real, baby—does it feel real?”

You nodded eagerly, your lips still tingling from the severity of his kisses, and he pulled you in for another one, his touch deliciously bruising.

When he pulled away again, you felt his fingers trace down your arm before he grabbed your hand in his. Your brows furrowed in confusion as he guided your grasp between your bodies, but your hips jolted when he pressed your hand into the hardness of his bulge in his jeans. You whimpered at the feeling, fingers curling around his length to squeeze him. His lashes fluttered.

“Yeah, baby—you feel what you do to me? That’s fuckin’ real.”

You felt yourself grow increasingly desperate at his words, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head with abandon. He seemed in tune with your own neediness because pretty soon, clothes were being ripped off and haphazardly tossed around the room, lips meeting newly-exposed skin at every opportunity.

You were laid out beneath him, his body slotted between your parted legs as he hovered over you, pumping his cock languidly as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes.

“I’ve pictured this, too, you know.”

You felt a small smile find your face.

“Really?”

He bit his lip, the pace of his hand jerking his length speeding up just slightly.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby. You’re even more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

His sweet compliment was a stark contrast to the depravity of the current situation, but you could hear the sincerity in his words. You smiled up at him, reaching forward to take his cock in your grasp and line him up with your awaiting entrance.

“And you’re even bigger than I ever imagined.”

You purred, watching his eyes flash with pride as he leaned forward to brush the tip of his cock through your sopping folds, causing you to mewl unsurepetitiously.

“Please, Marc, shit—I can’t wait anymore, please.”

He grinned wickedly down at you, and before you could even take a breath, he was plunging into you with force, his cock sheathing itself fully within the softness of your cunt.

He choked above you, his arm slamming down on the mattress beside your head for support, his fist curling into the sheets.

“Jesus fuck, you’re tight.”

He breathed out, his expression almost pained with just how perfectly your walls were squeezing him.

The sudden intrusion was a startling sensation, but the burn of the stretch was quickly evolving into an addictive sting of pleasure.

“Oh, God, yes—move, Marc, please.”

You begged, brows furrowed deeply, and Marc quickly obliged, starting a rapid pace as he hammered into you, his hips snapping forward with jarring strength. The sound of slapping skin echoed within the room and only served to add to your arousal, the noises leaving your lips sinful and completely involuntary.

“Fuck yeah, baby—is this what you wanted? This what you’ve been daydreaming about, huh? My cock filling you up?”

You moaned wantonly, back arching at Marc’s words. His curls were falling across his forehead, dampened with sweat, and you reached up to grip his shoulders for support, fingernails digging into the carved muscle.

“Yes, fuck, yes—so good, Marc, so fucking good—”

He reached down and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, the new angle earning a sharp cry. Your walls were fluttering around him.

“Yeah, you wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my cock?” He hand reached between your bodies to thumb at your clit, and the added stimulation sent you suddenly toppling over the edge into your orgasm, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“Yeah, attagirl—fuck yeah.”

Your walls were clamping down on him, pulsing rhythmically over the ridges of his cock, and he felt his release rapidly approaching.

“You want my cum, baby?”

You nodded frantically at him, eyes wild with desperation, and Marc groaned as his pace began to stutter.

“Where, baby? Where do you want it?”

You fingers sank further into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Mouth—want you to cum in my mouth.”

Your request alone was enough to send him hurtling over the edge.

“Oh, shit, gonna cum—”

He pulled out of you quickly, hand reaching down to fervidly fist at his cock as he crawled forward to straddle your stomach on his knees—you eagerly leaned forward just in time as his balls drew up tight, his cum shooting straight across your awaiting tongue as you opened your mouth wide for him.

“Oh, baby—fuuuuckkk—”

His hips thrusted into his fist with each pump of cum that escaped him, some shooting above your lip and dribbling down your chin. He grunted harshly as he tapped the tip of his cock over your tongue, coating the head in his release that had pooled within your mouth. You quickly closed your lips around him and suckled the tip into your mouth, swallowing all of his seed as you swirled your tongue around his length.

He let out a low groan before he finally reached forward to tug you off of him, collapsing onto the mattress beside you heavily.

You both caught your breath for a few moments, coming back down to Earth after your intense climaxes.

It was Marc who broke the silence first, a deep chuckle coming from his chest.

“If this is what you’re constantly daydreaming about, then fuck—you gotta tell me. I will make every goddamned one come true.”

Your laughter matched his own as he reached over to wrap an arm around you, pulling you towards the warmth of his body comfortingly. Your smile quickly faded as the heat of the moment made way for reality.

“Was this—I mean, this wasn’t just—just a one-time thing... right?”

Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering along your hairline.

“No, baby. Besides—Jake and Steven haven’t even gotten their turns with you.”

His attempt at a joke fell flat.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You said quietly, and Marc sighed, letting his head rest atop yours as he held you close.

“Sorry. I know what you meant, but still, the answer’s no. Kinda hoping this is an all-the-time thing.”

Now, you laughed, and he swore it was his favorite sound in the entire world.

You had a brief conversation with Steven about your mutual feelings, later—although he was a stuttering mess, his smile was wide and eyes were bright with elation when he finally kissed you. He fell asleep holding you close to him, and you listened to his breathing slow as you began to doze off beside him.

Just when you were about to fall asleep, his arms around you squeezed tighter.

“Told you so.”

Jake’s voice taunted jokingly, and you lifted a fist to punch his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckled, and you tilted your head so you could see his face—he looked relaxed, truly at ease, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

You admitted defeat, and Jake gave you a cheeky lopsided grin before he leaned down and gave you a soft, chaste kiss that left you breathless.

You rested your head back against his chest, but he interrupted your peace yet again.

“Can I ask you somethin, nena?”

You nodded.

“You told Marc you imagined being an Avatar. ’m just curious—what kind of things do you think about?”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, still feeling silly and insecure about admitting to your daydreaming habits, but Jake gently encouraged you enough until you relented, explaining how you’d always had an infatuation with the deity Nut and liked the poeticism of the pairing of the moon and the stars.

“And you called me estrellita.”

You informed shyly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, but you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, his muscles tensing just slightly.

“Estrellita?”

He questioned, and you lifted your head to look at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, it—it means ‘little star.’”

You explained, and he shook his head.

“I know that, but I—hmm.”

His lips pursed, and you nudged him, his confusion worrying you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before staring back up at the ceiling, his expression contemplative

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just—today, when Khonshu came to tell us that you were in trouble, he—he called you that. Little star.”

You bolted upright, the color quickly draining from your face.

“He fucking what?”

Jake shrugged uneasily, but you felt your heart begin to hammer in your chest, recalling the bizarre intrusion Khonshu had made in your fantasy today, interrupting your own train of thought. Was that—actually him?

Little did you know, Khonshu had been eavesdropping on your daily mental escapes for some time, entertained by both your active imagination and the elaborate stories you seemed to conjure up on a whim. As a matter of fact, both he and Nut found great amusement in your investment in the life of the Egyptian deities, and should something happen to the Goddess of the Sky’s current Avatar—she knew exactly where to find her next candidate.

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age-of-moonknight · 9 months

Text

What If…? Dark: Moon Knight (Vol. 1/2023), #1.

Writer: Erica Schultz; Penciler and Inker: Edgar Salazar; Colorist: Arif Prianto; Letterer: Cory Petit

#Marvel #Marvel comics #What If…? Dark: Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #latest release #Luminary #Marlene Alruane #Marc Spector #Jean-Paul Frenchie Duchamp #Khonshu #(and Samuels! hahaha #classic way to end a what if comic #hinting at greater impending calamity #a bit of a moral #classic #and RIP what was it Marc was telling Frank in The Punisher a while back?#‘whoever [your god] is I can promise he’s a real *%&@%’

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romana-after-dark · 6 months

Text

Working on something juicy and dark….

Jake Lockley and Khonshu…

Any takers??

#Jake lockley #Khonshu #moon knight #dark #dark fanfiction #non con

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Steven & Marc (3/4)

Word count ; 4.3k

*TW : abuse. general manipulation. Remember, Steven/Marc aren’t really good either lmao. it's yandere for a reason.

I dried my hands, having finally finished washing the dishes from tonight’s meal. Charles was god knows where taking a phone call, so I was grateful to have some time to myself. I cleared my throat and grabbed my phone, stopping the music. I still had my earbuds, though, hoping to watch some videos on the couch before retiring for the night.

It had been a very exhausting last few days. Charles… tended to be a drama queen, so at least I couldn’t complain about life being dull, despite working at a flimsy gift shop day to day.

I entered the living room. Because the night was cool, before sitting on the couch, I went open to open the windows, although I left the screen to cover them. I could hear Charles talking angrily to someone on the phone about something. I ignored it, though, plopping on the couch and pulling my legs up with me.

I checked my messenger, skimming over some group chats, before moving to YouTube. I put on a random upload from my favorite YouTuber, instantly becoming absorbed. I even laughed a few times. I was so preoccupied, in fact, that I completely ignored Charles when he sat on the couch beside me.

I jolted out of surprise when he grabbed my knee. I paused the video and pulled out an earbud, eyeing him questioningly.

Charles was stoic as usual, but for the first time in a long while, he had a slight smile on his handsome expression. My heart used to melt for the opportunity to see him happy, but it grew old quickly. It was quite overshadowed by how negative he always was. But my friends told me this was normal in a serious relationship and marriage.

“What is it?” I asked, quirking a brow.

“I figured it was about time you moved in with me,” he stated.

My entire body tensed. Even the idea of living with him terrified me. He seemed to notice my body language, though, and squeezed my knee tighter. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

Once I recovered from the shellshocked, I inquired,” …Why the rush?”

“Why the hesitance?”

“I - It’s just, you’re bringing this up so suddenly when we’ve already agreed to wait til marriage,” I muttered. I couldn’t meet his gaze, instead steeling myself for what I knew was coming.

“Change of plans. I’m getting impatient. Do you not want to move in with me? I have all the money in the world. You could quit your job and live a carefree existence.”

“It’s… too sudden. I’ve already paid this month’s rent. And I like working, thank you very much.” My throat was completely dry.

Charles pulled away and rose to his feet. He towered over me, leaving my with no choice but to meet his fiery gaze. His fists were clenched, and even with a bruised face, he was terrifying to look at.

“There’s no reason for you not to move in with me now. What are you not telling me? I’m right about you being a cheating whore, aren’t I? I’ve always known it —“

“I’m not cheating!” I shrieked desperately. I scooted down the couch quickly, rising to my feet. “How many times do I have to tell you? Because of you, I literally have no life, except for your rich socialite friends! I’ve changed everything about myself for you, and yet here you are, accusing me of being unfaithful!”

As quickly as my anger flourished, it vanished, being replaced with fear as I saw how his expression darkened. He always told me he hated when I raised my voice. He hated when I argued with him. He hated how I was. But… how could I stand for such accusations.

“Shut the fuck up, you sleazy bitch!” he roared, red in the face. “It’s that arsehole from earlier, isn’t it? Am I not rich enough? Do I not buy you enough things? Is that why you fuck other guys? Stop lying to my face, whore!”

Tears had already sprouted to my eyes. Silence fell over the room. It was either I upset him more by defending myself, or I upset him more by admitting to something I’d never done. There was no escape for me in this situation, and he knew that.

Instead, a sob bubbled in my throat, and my hands went to wipe my eyes. Why did the man hate me so?

“Stop fucking crying, slut! You always play the bloody victim when you know damn well I’m the one being hurt. I deserve better. You should be fucking grateful I waste my time on a bitch like you! I could do so much better, so be grateful I’m even with you.”

“Get out, get out, get out!” I yelled, meekly pushing at his chest. “I want you gone! Now! Leave me be!”

That wasn’t the right thing to say at all. Charles snorted cynically, pushing me in return. Except, it wasn’t nearly as light as mine was. Instead, I was sent flying over the coffee table. While in the process of falling, I reached out desperately, but all I found was a vase of flowers that he’d given me. It crashed along with me, some of the glass immediately piercing my legs. My head also collided with the wooden floor, and I let out a shriek of pain.

I heard several clicks and snaps from outside the window.

My head was pounding, my legs were tangled, and glass was stuck in my. I was also wet from the spilled flowers. I was… miserable.

I curled up on the side, unable to prevent the sobs from escaping, echoing in the room. I felt oh-so pathetic as Charles only stared. He didn’t even move to help me.

He moved around the coffee table and crouched in front of me. I was still cradling my legs to my chest, my hands covered in my own blood. My vision was blurry, and yet I still attempted shrink away from him as he reached out to me.

I hoped for him to be kind. But that would only happen in my dreams. Instead, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me upright. My throat burned even further as my limbs were forced to stretch in unnatural ways. He pulled me so very close. With one hand, he had my collar, but with the other, he cupped my cheek.

“Listen here, whore. I’ll look over this incident and forgive you if and only if you never fucking cheat again and you move in with me,” he huskily demanded. “Be obedient and we’ll get married without any other hitches. Got it?”

I was so exhausted, I could only blink. That seemed to satisfy him, and his entire mood seemed to switch. He smiled sweetly, pressed a quick kiss to my lips. My entire body seemed to reject it, and in that moment, I began to heave. He pulled away, confused.

And just like that, I threw up. It was just as painful as the blood seeping from the wounds. The omit landed on his expensive suit, and he immediately threw me back onto the floor, stumbling away in disgust.

I heard more snaps and clicks but was too drained to see what the commotion was. Charles clearly was too.

He didn’t even say goodbye as he grabbed his briefcase. All I could hear was a ‘fucking bitch’ muttered under his breath.

My mouth was dry after I finished spilling my guts. All I could do was sprawl out on the ground, staring at the ceiling helplessly.

He’d never been violent toward me before. My heart had officially shattered into pieces.

~~~

Steven was absolutely knackered. After a night of spying and then him and Marc losing their shit and then immediately diving into planning and then losing their shit again after reviewing the photos, it was safe to say he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. However, a cup of coffee fueled them for the time being. And besides, she was more important than sleep.

Marc was on the same page as him completely now. In fact, he was the one who thought of their little plan yesterday, and was the brunt force that drove them into ungodly hours of the night. Marc would hopefully never be more interested than him, but he sure was equally obsessed with the girl as him. Although, it was definitely for different reasons.

He waved politely to the security guard. The security guard waved back, greeting,” Hey Stu!”

On any other day, that would bother him to no end. But he was completely absorbed with his mission, entering the museum further.

The moment he spotted Y/n at her normal post, leaning against the gift shop counter with a distant look in her eyes, Steven was as grateful as he was bothered. She was incredibly injured. She should’ve taken at least a week off to rest! But, at the same time, it meant he wouldn’t have to wait on moving forward with his plan.

He uttered as friendly as a smile as he could, despite having nothing but negativity swarming his head. Y/n didn’t even notice as he walked up to the counter, his hands shoved in his pocket. She was looking directly at him, but she was completely spaced out, not even blinking.

Steven sighed, waving his hand in front of her face. She suddenly jumped, standing up straight. She seemed terrified for a brief moment, but all her stress washed away the instant she recognized the man in front of her.

“Hello there,” Steven greeted poshly.

Y/n seemed relieved by his presence. She nodded curtly. “Hi, Steven. The same goes for Marc… What brings you here?” she tittered.

Steven grinned. “I wish I could say it was just to visit, but it’s actually on official business. Are you doing alright, though? You seem pretty knackered.”

“Just… had a bout of insomnia last night, is all,” she fibbed quietly.

Steven’s mouth twitched, but didn’t let his displeasure show. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hate to bother you again, but as you probably know, I work with police, and furthermore, detectives.” That was a lie. But she didn’t need to know that. “See, I recognized your fiancé the other day. Charles Mindel of Mindel corporations, yes?”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah… and?”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but… he’s been under investigation for the following crimes.” He cleared his throat, pulling out a napkin from his pocket. He read,” Embezzlement, collusion, forgery, and most evident, workplace sexual and physical abuse. Do you know anything about this? Have the police contacted you at all?”

Her jaw dropped. Y/n wasn’t very good at hiding her concern. Steven felt smug; he was witnessing the destruction of Y/n and that piece of shit’s relationship in real time. A part of him also felt bad for lying, but seeing how this guy was, he probably was committing a lot of crimes.

“No, the police haven’t… Charles doesn’t really, uh, talk to people about me. He says its, uh, bad for him reputation. I don’t know anything about it. He doesn’t take to me about his work.”

Steven’s smile faded and he accidentally clenched his fist, crumpling the napkin at the same time. Y/n glanced unsurely at it, but Steven shook his head. “Seriously…?”

“What?” she retorted, confused.

Steven held back a rant about what a piece of shit he was, but he knew she wasn’t in the right mindset to hear it right now. Maybe she would be when she saw the evidence he planted in that arsehole’s office. Not only did he plan on rescuing her from an abusive relationship, he planned to swoop in and steal his heart when he proved he was the right one for her.

“Nothing,” Steven answered. “Em, has he displayed any suspicious activities? Is there anything abnormal about his behavior? Abuser tend to act certain ways, after all, and it would be a great lead.”

“Well -I don’t really know about any of that stuff… Exactly how many people have reported abuse?”

He tapped his chin in lock thought. “Hm… I recall reading four reports from women who used to be his assistants. Their stories seem consistent. First, he love-bombs them with gifts and pretty words, then asks for things in exchange such as a kiss, and often, when he was rejected or they made a mistake at work, he became violent and gave them an ultimatum to keep quiet.”

Y/n was trembling in her boots. Steven could tell by the look in her eyes that she believed it. That her soon-to-be ex-fiancé was capable of such things. Because what he described was exactly how Steven observed him treating her.

But, she shook her head anyways. “That’s… terrible!” Her voice was shaky. “Um, I really don’t know anything about that. I mean, he treats me… okay, I suppose. Is… there any way I could help?”

Bingo. Steven predicted that instead of admitting the arsehole was abusive, she’d offer to help. Steven almost loser ‘professionalism,’ wanting nothing more than to grin with ecstasy. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Well, yes, actually. Because we are only able to search a house for a specific crime, it’s hard to nail all of them at once.That’s where you come in, Y/n. If you’d be so kind, perhaps after work - if you’ll let me go with you -, would you check his home for anything suspicious?”

“Y - yes! Yes, of course… I just don’t believe… Well, never mind.”

He knew Y/n believed he was capable of such terrible crimes. Because she already knew he treated her like shit.

He became a bit nervous. “Actually, Y/n… one, can we exchange phone numbers? So you can text me when work is over. And second, I’d love to treat you to an, uh, uh, meal afterwards. I’m sure you could use an extra friend with all that’s going on.” And a soon-to-be lover. In Steven’s mind, Y/n was already falling for him.

Y/n opened and then shut her mouth again., taking out her phone at the same tie and handing it to him. As Steven entered in his number, she reluctantly said,” I’m not sure if I can accept dinner. It’s nothing against you - you’re quite lovely - it’s just, if Charles found out…”

Steven quirked a brow, hander her phone back. “If he found out?”

“Well - nothing. I just don’t think I can.”

“If you happen to find something incriminating, I’m fairly certain what he thinks would be the least of your worries. Please?”

Y/n’s shoulders lowered.”Well… I guess so. Sure. Dinner sounds lovely.”

~~~

Today was a shitty day. Yesterday was a shitty day. The day before that was a shitty day. Every day had been shitty for the longest time. And right now, as I pulled out a key to Charles’ house with Steven or Marc - the walk was silent and he could’ve switched in the meantime -, I felt shitty. I was walking with a limp, too.

Marc had noticed earlier. He questioned it several times, but shut up about it eventually.

The door opening with ease. None of Charles’ cars were sitting outside, so I already knew he wasn’t home. I also knew that when he was giving the cold shoulder, he busied himself with work. And, potentially, forcefully sleeping with other women.

The accusation angered me to no end. It hurt because I had no doubt in my mind that Charles was probably like that. That he had the audacity to accuse me of cheating because I talked to a man when he was treating other women that way…

But there wasn’t any solid evidence yet. And I hoped there wouldn’t be. It would break my heart that I wasn’t even good enough for an evil man like him.

I didn’t have much dignity left, but if I found evidence of criminal activities, I’d have enough dignity to end things. Maybe then… I’d be happy.

I shut the door behind Steven slash Marc. He was proven to be Marc when he spoke up,” So this is the place, huh?”

I nodded wordlessly, hanging my bag up on the coat rack. I didn’t bother kicking off my shoes. Hopefully, this would be as simple as in-and-out.

Marc cleared his throat. “We need to check the bedroom and office. Those are the priorities, since secrets are usually stored in those areas.”

“Sure thing.”

I motioned for him to follow, and I led him up the stairs. I figured that anything related to cheating would be in the bedroom, so I’d leave it for last. I marched down the hall toward the office, the floorboards’ creaks being the only sound echoing the house.

I wanted to get this over with. Heaving out a sigh, I opened the door.

I was relieved when the office didn’t seem any different than the few times I previously visited. Marc placed a firm, comforting hand on my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. I glanced back with him, but he separated, leaning on the wall. He was letting me do the dirty work.

I started with the file cases. I scanned several papers, mostly the ones in the back, but nothing seemed off about it. I didn’t really know how to read the files, so for all I knew, it could be collusion agreements or bribery or whatever. However, that wasn’t what I was looking for, and I knew it.

“Find anything suspicious?”

“No. I don’t really understand any of this business stuff,” I admitted.

“Me neither,” Marc chuckled.

I weaved around the desk, sitting down for support. By the legs were drawers, the glass onyx for the sake of privacy. I eyed the laptop, but I didn’t know his password, so left it alone. I leaned over and pulled the top drawer open. It was almost completely barren, except for some pens and unopened post-it note packs.

The one underneath had a bunch of business magazines. I dug underneath, and my stomach began to churn when I found some Playboy magazines. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the potential heads-up on what I’d find or because who the fuck had in-person porn magazines?

I pulled the newspaper up and slapped it on the desk. Marc looked over in surprise before joining me at the desk. He grabbed the magazines, letting out a quiet ‘huh.’

I opened the third drawer.

And that’s when it seemed that my entire world was crashing down on my. My heart was on the verge of physically imploding. But, I was so stunned that I pulled out a cellular device.

I knew that Charles always had his phone on him for business. There was only one reason he’d need a second one. For cheating… or something worse. I could only hope it was the worse option for the sake of my almost non-existent self-confidence.

But, alas, when I dug deeper, my entire world stopped turning.

Shakily, I pulled out several pairs of lingerie and underwear. They were worn down and didn’t have any name tags on them. They were used. And they weren’t mine. And, most of all, Charles and I had never slept together. He never wanted to.

I set a red lace bra and pantie set on the desk. And then a black thong. And then a pink bikini top. And the bikini top was wet.

“Are… these yours?” Marc asked unsurely.

I’m sure his question was answered when I burst into tears. I couldn’t help it. After all the accusations of being unfaithful, of not being good enough, of being a whore, he was cheating on me. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I sunk into the seat. My entire body was trembling and my mind was both racing and blank at the same time.

How long had he been cheating? Why wasn’t I good enough for him? Wasn’t I pretty enough? Wasn’t I obedient enough? He never asked to have sex with me. He said he wanted to wait until marriage. Was it because he preferred other women?

My vision was blurry, but Marc immediately swooped around the desk and crouched in front of me. He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest. I felt disgusted with myself, just as disgusted as I was with Charles. I tried struggling to escape the hug, but he was steadfast, hushing into my ear and rubbing my back soothingly.

I couldn’t help it. I caved immediately, grabbing at his t-shirt. I was surprised that Marc didn’t let Steven take over, but that was the least of my concerns. I cried loudly into his neck, despite a numb sensation washing over me. My everything hurt. It was like my thigh was throbbing more than ever, the wounds completely reopened. My heart was torn into shreds.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed. All I knew is that I eventually detached from the man feeling all cried-out. I rubbed my nose and eyes furiously.

Marc assisted me as I rose to my feet. “Marc,” I croaked,” walk out of frame… please.”

Marc did so, but I noticed that he took his phone out and snapped a few pictures. Probably for the sake of the investigation. But I pulled my own phone out from my back pocket, leaning against the desk for support. I wasted no time in face-timing Charles.

He declined almost immediately. But I ruthlessly tried again. And again. And again. Fifth time was the charm because it rang for several seconds. Just seeing his irritated expression sent a wave of anger through me.

“What? I’m busy, damn it. I don’t have time. The fuck do you want? To apologize?”

I snickered. “Sure. I’m the one who should be apologizing when you’re the one fucking cheating on me and abusing god knows how many people and being just the shittiest fucking human being alive!” My voice progressively got louder, but I couldn’t help it.

He hissed, walking down a white hallway. He looked insecure. He entered through a door during my rant, and immediately his expression betrayed his fury.

“The hell are you talking about, whore —“

I turned the camera view so that it was aimed exactly at the incriminating evidence. “You… you have the audacity to say I’m worthless and - and a big nothing and a whore and yet you were in your fucking office fucking some poor girl in a bikini god knows how many hours ago! How fucking dare you —“

“Shut the fuck up! Stop fucking yelling. You’ll ruin my goddamn reputation,” Charles shouted, having lost his temper. “Did you plant that shit? I haven’t fucking cheated on you, but fucking hell maybe I should have. You’re lying to my fucking face —“

“No. No! You’re a total asshole! You could’ve fucking… fucking immobilized my leg last night! I bet you went home and cheated on me after you fucking hurt the hell out of me like the asshole you are —“

He rubbed his temples. “I’m not fucking cheating! I don’t know how the fuck that shit got into my office. Why the fuck are you there anyways, huh? To plant that shit —“

“Deny it all you want, asshole. We’re over. If I ever see you again, I’ll —“

“You’ll what, huh?” He was seething. I fell silent at that, my skin crawling. “You’re not breaking up with me. I don’t know how that shit got there, but even with how fucking braindead you are I wouldn’t cheat.” I scoffed, but he didn’t seem to be done. “You’re not breaking up with me, Y/n. If you do, I swear to fucking god I will kill you.”

All of my anger vanished and my heart stopped. I had never been so terrified.

My attention was suddenly drawn to Marc. I realized that he had been recording the entire interaction. I felt so terribly embarrassed. He was motioning for me to hang up.I could only gulp.

“Well?”

I had yet to turn the camera back to me. But I didn’t need to. I was scared for my life, but Marc was a witness. That meant, even if I was brutally murdered, at least one person would know.

“…Fuck you.”

I hung up and turned off my phone. My arms fell to my side. Marc immediately bounced back to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I let him lead me out of the room. Everything hurt so badly it was numb. But I leaned against Marc as we left the house. He wordlessly took my bag for me.

A part of me, deep down, was relieved. It was freeing in a sense. But right now, I was absolutely heartbroken.

“Hey. How about instead of dinner, we just go to your apartment and order pizza and watch a movie? I don’t think it’s safe to be alone right now.”

I strained a smile. “Yeah. That would be nice. I’m sorry for… that. You didn’t need to see that.”

He squeezed my arm while gently placing a kiss to the side of my head. “Don’t apologize. He’s a bad guy, Y/n. You deserve better. And I promise, we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

It was comforting to hear that. And maybe it was because I was vulnerable and desperate, but I could’ve sworn my heart fluttered.

@slutalexis46 @greenxtea0 @gorgeourrific-nerd

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