#steven grant x desi!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Text

Seven Lives (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

A/N: I watched Chennai Express again somewhere last week and decided to write this drabble, added my favourite place on the planet + my favourite person on the planet. I also cried writing this so-

Word Count: 783 words

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stared glumly up at the set of stairs in front of you, angrily nibbling at the lime ice cream in your hand. The limestone caves above you looked magnificent and you were so tempted to go up and explore the intricately carved temple, it had, after all, been years since you did. You glance up at the big statue beside the stairs and frown.

“I’d go up but this little fella won’t let me,” you mumbled to the golden-faced God, rubbing at your swollen tummy.

Your grandma had forbidden you from going up due to your pregnant state. She had been wary since you expressed interest in taking your husband there, saying that he would appreciate the beautiful architecture and history.

“What are we looking at, darling?” your husband whispered and you turned to frown at him.

“Aw love, what's wrong?” He said taking your face in his hands.

“I wanna go up.” You said, nodding towards the stairs.

“Your ammamah is not gonna be happy, my sweet wife.” He frowned back, eyeing the stairs with you.

“Hey! You’re the one who did this to-” you say a little too loudly and Steven clamps a hand onto your mouth.

“Holy place!” he hissed through a smile.

The both of you stood there a little longer, watching people walk up and down the colourful concrete staircase. You loved this place, it gave you peace and tranquillity like no other and you felt amazing. But it truly did make you sad that you couldn't waddle your way up the stairs.

“Alright, you know what…” Steven Grant folded the sleeves of his kurta and suddenly scooped you up into his arms bridal style as if you weighed like a feather.

“NOOO STEVEN PUT ME DOWN!” you squeal, grabbing onto the edge of your saree.

“Come on love, what kinda superhero doesn’t do superhero things for his wife?” Steven winks down at you and kicks his shoes off.

You hide your face behind the long edge of your saree as people begin to stare and point the second Steven started walking up the stairs with you. The arm that is hooked around Steven’s neck was already a cry for help, but part of you really did want to go up to the cave.

“Steven, there are people watching.” you mumble and hang onto him tightly.

“Let them watch, keep your eyes on me, love.” He whispered back, watching his footing.

“Two hundred and seventy two steps, Steven.”

“I’ve done more.”

“Yea, without your pregnant wife in your arms!”

People around you started to coo and shout praises, all which Steven nodded politely to. You watch your husband’s face for any sign of a strain, his jaw set in concentration and the feeling of being rocked in his arms easing out all of your anxieties. Steven’s hands on you grounded you to him, and you held to that feeling like it was your life line.

“Did you know that the cave is 400 million years old?” Steven says, as he continues to take step after step.

Steven continued to dish out facts and you listened intensely, nodding at each of them despite already learning all of the facts by heart. You watch him say hi to a monkey and your eyes shift to the vel-shaped entrance of the cave. Your heart swells with pride as people around you cheer and clap as Steven slowly sets you down slowly before kneeling down and adjusting your saree’s pleats.

You were in your favourite place on Earth and all you could do was look at your husband. You can’t help feeling lucky and loved. You teared up as elderly folk swarmed Steven, touching his head and giving him their blessings. Once the crowd cleared, Steven reached out to grab your hand, pulling you close. He set a hand onto your tummy and knelt down again, pressing his ear against you.

Was it really possible to fall in love with the same person again and again?

“Your mummy is very spoiled, little one, I’d do anything for you and for her.” You smacked Steven’s head and he laughed, getting up and encasing you in an embrace.

“Thanks, Steven, I love you.” you mumble in his chest while he fixes your hair.

The seven-lives bond that people always talked about when it came to marriage didn’t seem true to you then. You’d hate to see someone else with Steven in his eighth life. But you’d have seven lifetimes to ponder over that. Now, you held onto Steven’s hand tightly as he led you to the cave temple, Steven chastising you to watch your step as he stirred you around puddles.

Translations:

ammamah: grandma

kurta: a loose collarless shirt or tunic worn in many regions of South Asia

Vel: is a divine javelin or spear associated with Murugan, the Hindu god of war.

Saree: a women's garment from the Indian subcontinent,that consists of an un-stitched stretch of woven fabric arranged over the body as a robe, with one end tied to the waist, while the other end rests over one shoulder as a stole (shawl), sometimes baring a part of the midriff

Tagging: @mintpurplemnm @pakhiya

200 notes · View notes

thesecretwriter · 9 months

Text

a desi!reader inspired mood board for upcoming desi!reader fics

#steven grant x desi!reader #marc spector x desi!reader #jake lockley x desi!reader #bucky barnes x desi!reader #miguel o’hara x desi!reader #remus lupin x desi!reader #thorin oakenshield x desi!reader #tom riddle x desi!reader #zee's thoughts

70 notes · View notes

popquizhot-shot · 2 years

Text

Rasmalai juice staining her lips

Marc/Steven/Jake x fem!Desi!reader

Warning: racism, fights with mom, desi education system, crying, use of gaalis.

Tagging: @lil-stark @just-laufeyson @winter-moony @luvsersi @idli-dosa @directioner5life @fangirlwithasweettooth @uglyasswoman @navs-bhat

The bangles aren't what attract his attention, nor is it the fact that you're wearing a kurta in the heat and listening to ghazals.

It's the bliss on your face as your head falls back in satisfaction after eating your weekly bowl of rasmalai.

It's the way the juice is dripping from your lips.

He wants to kiss it off.

"Jake? Anything wrong?" you ask him, your lovely thick eyebrows furrowed as you lick your lips.

He just shakes his head, enamored at the fact that someone like you even gives a single shit about him. He understands why you love Steven, the guy was sunshine incarnate. And Marc, who showed his love often and communicated his feelings openly.

But him? What made him special?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice your hand come closer to cup his face, the cold glass bangle shaking him out of his thoughts.

His heart began to beat faster as you smiled, coming closer. Your fingers lightly dancing over his face, tracing the contours of his nose, smoothening his furrowed brow, softly rubbing his cheek bones.

"You have no idea how much I love you, huh?" you murmured.

He scoffed slightly, trying not to blush. You huffed out a laugh.

"Pichi."(idiot) and then you kissed him, lips tasting of rasmalai. Bangles jingling as your hands moved to his hair, tugging lightly. Your chunni was discarded.

The ghazals kept playing as you stared at each other, getting lost in each other as you had so many times before. Your kohl-lined eyes, were looking at him with so much love he was taken aback. He didn't need anymore reassurance.

----

He is supposed to be the calm one out of the three.

Yet he can't help but feel his blood boil when he sees you crying.

As he cups your face and makes you look at him, his heart breaks at the tear stains and the smudged kohl, which was always immaculate. Your lips are wobbling as you mumble incoherently.

"Baby, what happened?" he asks softly.

" Oh Marc, my boss, that harami.(asshole)" was all you managed to say before pulling him into a hug and sobbing into his chest.

"Oh baby, it's okay. You need to calm down. Do you want Steven to front?"

You shake your head, "Na na, it's okay. Koi bath nahi.(it's nothing)"

He smiles comfortingly, "Want some chai?"

He nearly laughs at the way your eyes light up as you nod.

A few minutes later, after you've washed your face and calmed down, he asks you again, "What did your boss do?"

You sigh, "He's one suar ka aulaad(son of a pig). You know how many nights I've stayed up late, finishing his reports for him, doing his work, and then doing my own work to the best of my ability. I'm one of the best writers in the team and I was so sure I would get the promotion, arey(used to show exasperation) everyone else was expecting me to get it. But that white piece of shit gave the promotion to Micheal, who didn't do a single thing. And when I asked him about it, all he said was that Micheal deserved it more because he was born here and he would benefit from it as a citizen of this country. Like, what shit is that? I don't deserve a promotion for all the shit I've done for him, and because I'm Hindustani? Somehow that doesn't click."

He clenches his jaw, "That jerk."

You nod and stand up, "Kutta.(Dog) I refuse to be made to feel small because of where I'm from. Arey, what right does that haramzaade(bastard) have? To state that me being Indian is a good enough reason to give MY promotion, the one I worked my ass off for, to some white dude who doesn't even lift a finger?"

"He has no right, baby. No right at all." he stands and takes your hands, pulling you into a hug, "Want me to teach him a lesson?"

You nod against his chest, "Don't let Jake kill him, please."

He chuckles, kissing your hair.

"Oh!" you pull back and reach into your bag on the table. You pull out a box and open the top to reveal sweets of all kinds.

"Found a good Indian store and I just had to buy these! They look just like Nani's." (nani means maternal grandmother)

He smiles as you take one out and cup your hand under it, moving to feed him a bite. His mouth is rewarded with a burst of flavour that leaves him wanting more.

"Nice, na?" you wink.

He swears he's never loved you more.

----------

"Ma, no. Please understand what I'm trying to say! How am I disrespecting you? I never raised my voice once! Please just listen!"

Steven has met your mom over video chat a few times, and she's one of the sweetest women he's ever seen. And yet, this very woman is the reason his love his currently trying not to scream into a pillow.

"Amma, just-. Look, you're in a bad mood, I'll call you later when you've calmed down." you cut the call and groan into your palm.

He slowly makes his way to the sofa where you're currently seated and plops down beside you.

"Lovey..what happened? Why was mum upset?" he asks.

"Nothing, jaan. She gets into one of her moods and expects me to remain in a good one because she's elder and she supposedly is never wrong and all that shit. All the elders in our family, except my nani are like that. Being elder makes you right, being younger makes you wrong, and if you think otherwise, you'll get a slap."

"Oh, lovey. I'm so sorry." he pulls you into a hug.

"Tell me what to do, Steven." you choke out, " I mean, one time she's the sweetest mother on Earth and the next she's like some fire-breathing dragon. She's the one who told me to pursue what I want, everytime I bitched about the education system back at home. She's the one who gave me chai everytime I dozed off during studying history. Gandhi sucks by the way. She cares for me, she loves me, i know that. And yet, if she loves me, why do I feel like this everytime we have a conversation?"

"Lovey, you know your mum better than I do. It sucks that she's like that. But you have to understand that all her life, she's probably been treated the same way you're being treated right now, she's would have felt the exact same way after every disagreement with your nani. Talk to her when she's calm, explain your situation. I know it hurts, baby. It'll be okay." he kisses your forehead.

"Oi Hoi, you've become quite the clever man, meri jaan. Thank you, thank you for being so understanding, so caring." you kiss him lightly and rest your forehead against his.

"Can we dance?" he asks after a few moments.

You grin, reaching for your phone and playing that one song that he's become obsessed with. The one from the Bollywood movie. You move slowly in tandem. Snorts of laughter coming from him when you trip over a discarded pair of chappals.

As the music intensifies, the both of you spin and crash into each other. Your jhumka's swing and your bangles jingle. Your kurta flies as he spins you in the air and kisses you.

Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta hein, yaara, mein kya karu. (I see god in you, my love, what should I do)

------

They're speechless.

She's looking so pretty. Jake coos.

Damn right, mate. Steven agrees.

Your lehenga is a dark green, gold embroidery on the shawl, and blouse. Your hands have mehendi on them, your lips tinted. Your eyes lined with kohl, you're wearing your signature jhumkas. The smile on your face as you look away shyly almost makes him fall flat on his face.

"Baby" he takes a step closer, the sherwani your mom gifted him matching with yours, "You look so lovely. Wow."

"Aw, thanks Marc. You look amazing as well."

Shut up and kiss her! Jake shouts

No, it'll ruin her lipstick! Steven protests.

He settles for taking her hand in his and kissing her palm.

"I'm going to marry you someday." he confessed.

Hell yeah!

"I can't wait." you smile, "I love you."

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reaer #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x desi!reader #marc spector x desi!reader #jake lockley x desi!reader #desi!reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #marvel #desibr

187 notes · View notes

wysteria-clad · 23 days

Text

Mehendi.

paring: fem! desi! reader x moon boys; established relationship

warnings: swearing

genre: fluff

note:

- a quick drabble

- yes, I'm very creative with the title lol

-reader is not an expert on mehndi in this fic, no hate, just for the funsies~

-my writing style is kinda unhinged here?

- no plot, just ✨vibes✨

- gif credit Thank you to the creator! 🌷

₊˚⊹⁠♡————— ⁠♡ —————♡⊹⁠˚₊

Diwali was coming up. And you wanted to practice mehendi designs. Who was your best candidate victim other than Jake who was switching currently? He reluctantly agreed to it.

"Please, papi."

That's all it took.

As if he could say 'no' to you. He'd literally do anything for you. They all would. You should have gotten used to it at this point.

This wasn't on Jake's agenda for the day. Life was uncertain, but with you, it was a welcome one.

You opened up your pinterest account for the ✨inspo✨. You were both on your fluffy bed, in your apartment, with you sitting cross legged with Jake's hand on your knee, palms facing up.

"Don't move your hand!"

"I'm not moving my hand."

You are so concentrated and invested in this, your eyebrows furrowed, tongue sticking out, he couldn't help but find it adorable.

Jake Lockley wasn't a patient man, but for you though, he wouldn't dare to move until you say so.

Being patient for you is one of his love languages he converses in with you.

After twenty minutes, the mehendi design did not turn out exactly like the picture on pinterest. Look, you tried your best, that's all it matters.

You frowned, the line wasn't neat, you accidentally smudged here and there.

But to Jake it was the prettiest thing he has ever seen, next to his princesa, of course.

Marc switched the next day, waking up confused as fuck to see your not so best mehendi desig- Ahem, I meant your ✨ masterpiece✨ on his hands. He actually likes it.

And Steven excitedly showing it to everyone at work for the next two weeks till the mehendi designs vanishes like the cutiepie he is <3. He is so excited and proud of you.

You were not satisfied and made a little sad face and your boyfriends could not bear it. They convinced you it's pretty, and constantly reminded you how much they adore it.

All three of your boyfriends are your #1 supporters and hype you up no matter what. As they should 💅🏽.

Khonshu mumbling in the background about this is *not* how the moon knight supposed to be, receiving a glare from Marc, and sassy a response from Steven. Jake simply ✨does not care✨

#desi reader #moon knight imagine #moon boys x desi reader #moon boys x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #moon boys fluff #moon knight fluff #moon knight

36 notes · View notes

cherryesskisses · 2 years

Text

Fate Laid Differently In a Taxi Ride

Jake Lockley × fem desi!reader

Word count: 1k+ words

This wasn’t the night that you had wished for.

When your boyfriend called you up in the afternoon to tell you that he would fetch you to take you out for dinner, you were beyond the moon. Both of you had been so busy for the past weeks that neither of you had been able to do anything together, be it indoors or outdoors. So you were excited and spent hours rummaging through your wardrobe, trying on one dress to another. Finally, you settled on the black cami dress, satin and fitted against your figure, that you remembered your boyfriend liked. Your face was covered with makeup and your dark, raven hair flowed freely down your back. No matter how modern your outfit may be, you would always love to adorn yourself with accessories of your Desi culture—a simple matching set of Jhumka drop earrings and necklace.

Basically, you were dressed over the top, not just to please your boyfriend but yourself. You deserved a good night and having yourself pampered. Soon enough, your boyfriend came by minutes after and off you two went to your favourite italian restaurant. You were pleased at how the night came to be.

So the outcome of the night wasn’t what you were expecting.

Here you were sitting opposite of your boyfriend, who started off sweet and romantic in the beginning, but now looked guilty and sad like someone who just committed a crime.

“I’m sorry, y/n, but I actually want to break things off with you.”

Your heart shattered into pieces and you felt yourself becoming one with rage and disappointment. Tears were already free flowing down your cheeks and without replying, you stood up from your chair and headed out. Deep down, you were hoping that he would chase after you but after more than 20 minutes of walking down the sidewalk, you realised he wouldn’t be chasing after you.

You wanted to break down and cry from the pain you felt but you were not the type to cry in public, or at least you tried your best not to. So quickly you hailed down a taxi and entered the vehicle to hide your messy self. The moment you sat down at the back seat, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak or look up. You stared down at your lap, hoping that the night would just swallow you whole. Without realising the taxi began to move even though you had yet to mention a destination as you were drowning with waves of emotions.

The taxi moved smoothly and you couldn't even tell how long or when it began. Before you know it, your soft sobbing filled up the space inside the vehicle.

“Are you okay?” The taxi driver spoke soft, curious and you noticed the Spanish accent. Hearing his voice somehow calmed down your nerves a little and it made you look up. You could only see dark brown eyes through the rear-view mirror as they stared back at you. Somehow seeing them made you feel a little warm and safe even though you know nothing about this stranger.

“Just—” you laughed dryly, wiping the tears away with your fingers, “just stupid, stupid night is all.”

“Someone broke your heart.” It was a statement and not a question, as if he could read you through the dark of the night.

You wanted to deny at first but you chuckled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Your boyfriend?" He inquired as he swiftly took a left.

"Ex-boyfriend." You corrected him with a slight edge to your tone. Remembering your ex-boyfriend made your blood boil and hands curling up into fists—regretting that you didn't punch him before you left the restaurant.

"Lo siento, hermosa." The corners of his eyes crinkled up slightly. "Ex-boyfriend."

"He must have been a stupid guy to hurt a beautiful woman like you." The taxi driver added.

You shook your head as you felt warmth travelled through your cheeks at the sudden compliments—you knew basic Spanish to understand him speaking in that language. Tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, you somehow jumped to the first thought in your mind. "Have you been a taxi driver for a while now?"

He seemed amused at the question before shrugging his shoulders. "For as long as I can remember, yes. As a taxi driver, you meet many people. Bad, good, rude, kind—you name it. You would either chat with them or say nothing."

It felt weird that you found yourself captivated with his voice; it was calming and playful too, and hidden with untold stories. Not to mention that the Spanish accent lured you in further even without seeing his face fully.

"Besides that, there are also times when some passengers forget to tell where they wanna go and I just drive around."

It took you a few minutes to take his words in and fully understand the meaning. When you did, you gasped and cursed yourself in your mother tongue at your foolishness, smacking your forehead in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry. It slipped out of my mind." You muttered softly but loud enough that he laughed. His laughter made you smile though you suppressed yourself—at least, you thought you did.

"It's okay. I don't mind accompanying a beautiful passenger like you." He quipped while winking at you through the rear-view mirror. Again, you blushed like a teenage girl. Then you proceeded to tell your address and he redirected the route to your neighbourhood.

The ride to your apartment was filled with chatters between you two. Random questions were easily exchanged and the both of you talked as if you had met one another before. So when he finally pulled up outside of your apartment building, you felt your heart sunken in despair. You didn’t want to end the night and wanted nothing more but to continue talking with the taxi driver. Yet, you knew better than to keep someone from doing their job especially when the night was still long. With a reluctant heart, you pulled out a couple of bills from your purse to hand them over to him.

“Hermosa, it’s fine. Keep the money. I don’t need it.”

“But—”

He let out a charming chuckle as he fixed the flat cap on his head; with the help of the lights outside, you can see a bit more of his handsome features that were causing your heart to race a mile.

“Maybe..” he paused and flickered his eyes upwards back to the rear-view mirror to look at you, “you’d like to go on a dinner with me as payment instead?”

His suggestion caused both of your brows to raise up out of surprise and also the fact that your mouth almost agreed as quickly as you heard it.

“My ma told me not to say yes to strangers.” You replied with a hint of playfulness and seriousness mixed together in your voice and it was visible on your features.

“Then we best make ourselves acquainted, right?” He replied with a hum.

Maybe you should be more wary of him. After all, you only knew him for less than an hour, or was it less than 30 minutes—either way, you should have been more careful of the taxi driver. But you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to know him better and accepting his offer.

Turning around from his seat, you finally saw his face properly and you were correct, he was ravishingly good looking, and your heart stuttered a beat.

Offering you the most charming smile that one can have, he extended his hand to you as if to seal the deal of your fate to be entwined with him.

“I’m Jake.”

You did what your heart told you and shook his hand.

“I’m y/n.”

This wasn't the night you wished for but you didn't mind a bit.

Translation:

Lo siento: I'm sorry

Hermosa: Beautiful

A/N: I wasn't sure if I correctly portray Jake Lockley but this is how I envisioned he'd be with someone he finds interesting. Hopefully, I did him justice! If not, I'm sorry—😭

Also, I'm not a desi girl but this is made specially for my dear friend!

Happy belated birthday gift and Happy Deepavali @jake-g-lockley <333

168 notes · View notes

softieekayy · 10 months

Text

Serenity

Marc spector x desi!oc

Word count: 1.8k

Shivangi living next to Steven and Marc was a blessing. Each day they’d have breakfast together at Shivangi’s as she supplied them with the most fluffy pancakes Steven has ever had and a tall glass of orange juice. All vegan of course. When Marc would have breakfast with her it would be some eggs and pancakes with a tall cup of coffee as Shivangi drank Chai. She’s lived there for six months now yet London was still covered in a forecast of constant clouds. Not that she had minded, maybe a little. There were rare moments in the middle of the night when Shivangi missed the warmth of the Cairo sun on her skin and the smell of sandalwood that encompassed her home. That was it, she missed home. Although it wasn’t the place that she called home, it was the people. Like the old lady that lived next door and would more often than not try to marry Shivangi off to her various grandsons.

“You’re not getting any younger habibti. My grandson is a good man with a good job. You will be taken care of well.” Aya, the old woman would often tell, stressing on the fact that Shivangi would be well taken care of. Of course the young woman knew that Aya meant no harm and just worried for her. Shivangi and Layla were young when they lost their parents and ever since then Shivangi took the role of being a mother for a year younger Layla. Aya knew that Shivangi was a daughter to her and she wanted her to be taken care of, if not by her grandsons then someone else who would. She missed Aya. A small yet sad smile placed itself on Shivangi and Marc, the one who had the body this morning, looked up at her, setting down the paper that he was reading. More often than not he was called an old man by Shivangi and not once did he mind it. It was still early hours of the morning but duty calls and both Steven and her had work. Marc reached out his hand to her tentatively, brushing the back of his knuckles against hers. Shivangi looked up at Marc only to see a worried face peering back at her.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Marc asked and that was all it took for Shivangi to break her resolve. Marc, worried and panicked, stood up and pulled Shivangi into his chest, letting her clutch onto his t-shirt as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. His cheek atop Shivangi’s head as he gently caressed her hair, letting her cry out whatever it was that bothered her. A few moments later her sobs settled into hiccups and sniffling.

“Shivangi, are you okay?” Marc asked again. This time turning her chair so she faced him. The young woman looked up at him, eye bloodshot red and she wiped her nose with the sleeve of Steven’s grey shirt that she wore. Her bottom lip wobbled and she took a couple deep breaths before speaking.

“I miss Aya.” That was all Shivangi said, bringing her hand up to her nose bridge, trying to massage the forthcoming headache away. Marc pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back slowly as he muttered comforting words to her.

“Aya, she was my mother Marc. Not by blood but by bond, always there for me when Layla left and I was alone. She always made sure I didn’t die or that I was well and taken care of. She was my mother while I was Layla’s.” Shivangi explained as she pulled back.

“Being here, in London, countries away and in a different continent makes me feel as though I betrayed her. Left her in the wind with no explanation.” Shivangi explained to Marc as her voice cracked.

“Oh sweetheart. You didn’t leave her in the cold. She knows that what you left for was better than what you had. She knows, even if you didn’t tell her. She knows that you’re okay and you will be okay.” Marc comforted Shivangi, taking her smaller hand in his, noting down the fact that she was freezing. Shivangi still had a kicked puppy look on her face as she looked at him, clearly doubting his words.

“Okay come here. Lay down for a while and take a small nap. We have four hours before we have to be at work.” Marc advised and Shivangi just let him pull her down to the worn out blue couch. She laid down, her feet in Marc’s lap as he pulled the blanket on top of her. The morning cold and her dull headache lulling her to sleep slowly alongside the way Marc’s hands rubbed up and down her legs and before she knew it, Shivangi was asleep.

Marc waited a while before she stood up slowly, not wanting to awake the sleeping girl, he gently took her legs down from his lap and placed them on the couch before making his way to the kitchen. The kitchen was left as it was, one cup of chai that was now cold along with Marc’s coffee. Shivangi finished her pancakes although Marc’s were still lukewarm, he sat down and finished them, pouring an ungodly amount of syrup over them, gulping down the cold coffee. After finishing the food, he did the dishes and put them in their place and an hour later he was done, the clock showing 7:30 am.

Marc made his way over to Shivangi and stirred her awake. She opened her eyes and looked up at Marc before looking around. Her mind still a bit hazy from sleep.

“Morning' sweetheart.” Marc greeted her with a small chuckle as she glared at him. She sat up and pulled her hair down to tie it up again.

“How long have I been asleep?” Shivangi muttered, asking Marc while squeezing her eyes shut.

“Couple hours.” Marc replied as Shivangi got up while nodding and making her way to her room.

“Gonna go get ready for work.” She told him, exhaustion seeping through every word.

“Me too. Gotta make sure Steven doesn’t have Donna on his ass again. God knows he’d cry if he misses dinner with you again.” Marc snorted and Shivangi laughed a little. The two bid each other goodbye at the door with Shivangi giving Marc a tight hug and telling him he’d better come in for dinner.

Shivangi took her time getting ready for work. Her body was a temple and deserved to be treated like one. First she took a shower with the jasmine and sandalwood soap bar that Steven and Marc loved oh so much. Not that they’d ever admit it to her. Her once long hair was still long, but styled differently, something to suit the London girl persona that she’d taken on, along with smoking cigarettes. Shiva did not like that, he claimed that her body was a temple and it should be treated like one, however smoking was quite addictive but she tried her best to quit. Getting out of the shower she dressed herself in her favored long sleeve crème turtleneck and a pair of grey pants with a grey coat. The weather outside was brutally cold, especially for her.

Shivangi made her way out the building, Marc long gone. Steven’s shift started before hers but they always managed to have lunch together.

“You’re quite fond of him aren’t you? Hm, I suppose human is good for you.” Shiva’s voice rattled in Shivangi’s head, giving her a slight scare. Luckily no one was in the book shop this early to witness her speaking to herself.

“He is a complicated man, my lord, but you and I both know how much I love puzzles.” Shivangi teased, and Shiva just laughed. This young girl who had become his avatar, his human form, was his daughter.

“Of course my dear. This path that awaits you both, it was inevitable that you’d cross. It was written in the stars, long before any of you were created.” Shiva informs Shivangi and she smiles, mindlessly arranging the flowers on the counter.

Their conversation ended shortly after and before the young woman knew, it was time for lunch.

“Going out with the handsome fella are you now dearie?” Maya, an older woman with grey hair starting to come in yet still living with a youthful soul asked Shivangi who simply blushed and nodded before noticing Marc waiting for her outside.

“Hi Marc.” Shivangi said soulfully, wrapping her arm in Marc’s as the two walked down and through the bustling city of London.

“Hi Sweetheart.” Marc responded, pulling Shivangi into him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they walked. While Steven was vegan, Marc was not.

“How’s your day been?” She asked, sitting down from across from him and Marc just looked at her. The way her red brown hair fell onto her shoulders and down her back, the way her kohl lined eyes made them look as if she was staring deep into your soul, reading each piece of you.

“As always. Donna banging in about things I could care less about. Putting on a fake accent and selling candy, with khonshu talking in my ear of course.” Marc rambled and Shivangi listened, looking at him with stars in her eyes, as if he plucked them and put them there himself. She laughed a laugh that made Marc want to drop everything he was doing and drown himself in it.

“How was your day so far?” Marc asked, taking a huge bite of his burrito.

“It was good, I arranged books and flowers and talked to Maya and Shiva about things. My day has been very slow so far.” Shivangi said, taking a bite of her own burrito. Their lunch was slow, Marc and Shivangi talked about useless things and Marc made her laugh, he wanted that sound to be the last thing he heard before he died. Unfortunately for them, time was never kind and lunch ended far before they’d like it to. It didn’t matter that they came to work together, ate together and left together, not seeing each other for just 8 hours a day was disappointing.

“I’ll see you at home?” Marc asked, dropping Shivangi off to work. The younger woman looked at him and nodded.

“You’ll see me at dinner Marc, like always.” She laughed, reaching around to give him a quick hug. Marc laughed with her, feeling a little embarrassed that he even asked her that question. He made his way back to work, the slight scent of sandalwood and jasmine sticking to his clothes, a reminder that Shivangi would be there with him always, whether it be physical or not, she would always be by his side.

A/n: This is like a year too late.

Tagging my loves: @shawty-writes-a-little @chchchcheni @jake-g-lockley @brekkers-desigirl @rantingsstuff @guzaarysh @imarvelatthestars @tocoi @idkwtfimdoing2

#marc spector x you #marc spector #Marc spector x reader #Marc spector fluff #moon knight #moon knight x reader fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #moon knight fluff #om namah shivay #shivji #desi!reader

40 notes · View notes

itsprashimusic · 2 years

Text

I’ll be strong for you

Pairing - Steve Rogers x desi!wife!reader

Summary - Sometimes superheros need someone else to lean on instead of being others’ support beam. In Steve’s case, that someone is his wife.

Warnings - desi reader and references, some hindi is spoken but i have put the english translations in brackets next to them, let me know if i made any errors cause its 3 am and i don’t have the stamina to proofread

Word Count - 650

Part 2

masterlist is pinned

Your paayals (anklets) made a soft jingle every time your foot made contact with the ground. But it couldn’t be heard over the loud thuds your foot made while you were running towards the front door.

Your husband had been out on a mission for over a month. Normally you were used to his week long missions and the ones even longer than that. But this was the first time he had been gone for a mission that lasted longer than 4 weeks.

It was late at night, dark enough to prompt you to turn on a ceiling light in the living room. The soft yellow light illuminated the room giving it a very homely look. After checking through the peephole that it was infact him behind it did you make a move to open the door (steve wanted you to keep this habit if you were home alone).

No sooner had you opened it, you had been engulfed in a bone shattering hug. Steve didn’t ever seem bothered by the fact that you both were still standing at the door. Realising it you walked backwards into your living room while still hugging him somehow managing to close the door aswell.

He pulled back to look at you, relishing your features as if to remember them forever. He opened his mouth to say something but whatever was about to come out died before he had the chance. He held your face in both of his hands with such gentleness, his thumb sweeping over your cheek in a loving manner.

Your own hands held his wrists, your thumbs rubbing over the back of his hand. The soft yellow light did a great job of not just giving beautiful structure to Steve’s face but also of making the diamond that sat in the middle of your gold wedding band shine bright.

With his hands still cupping your face he pulled you in closer resting your foreheads before meeting your lips in a kiss. The kiss was sweet. But you could tell that he was holding back something. Deterring the thought from your mind you just focused on your significant other standing in front of you after not being there for 40 days. Steve pulled away, instantly hugging you again but this time letting his head fall in the crook of your neck. That was when you heard him say something for the first time, “I’ve missed you, so bad.”

“ हाँ राजा, जानती हूँ। ” (Yes dear, I know) you said closing your eyes and holding him even tighter, diminishing any possible remaining gaps between you both.

You didn’t notice when, but you started feeling your shoulder turn wet. The same place where your love had wedged his head in. This was a rare occurrence. Maybe something happened on the mission that caused it? Could be, since the last time he cried was when Tony died in the final fight at the Avengers Compound.

You tried asking him what happened, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? क्या तुम बता सकते हो what happened?” (can you tell what happened?). He said nothing only sobbing harder now. You narrowed it down to him just being exhausted and needing a break. So, you held him tight, both of you standing in the middle of the living room under the yellow light.

Sometimes, even those who save us need to break in order to be strong.

Bonus

“I’ve made some aloo parathas that you can eat later,” you said knowing its his favourite. And you said the right thing because just as you said it you felt him smile against your neck, his cries slowing down to hiccups. “You made them for me?” he said with a sheepish smile as he looked up from your shoulder, your hand rubbing circles on his back. You nodded. “Can we have them tomorrow as well?”

“ हर रोज और हमेशा के लिए। “ (everyday and forever).

A/N - I absolutely love this. let me know your feedback. likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything I will be making a masterlist when i have a few more works under my belt.

151 notes · View notes

dystopian-reverie · 2 years

Note

Hi (this is wysteria-clad) just tossing idea of Tamil reader x moon boys.

Imagine when you take the boys to a family function and they see so many immediate and extended family members, they are nice to them, constantly giving them something like eat especially sweets, excitedly hugging them, and the boys get overwhelmed in a good way. Hello, Indian weddings 😂

Title: Vanna Kolathil Vaanam! (The Sky, a Colourful Mess!)

Pairing: Desi!Reader x Moon Boys

Rating: General, pure wholesomeness

Summary: Guiding your boyfriends through Indian culture and customs, which you know can be quite overwhelming. Indian family and neurodivergent western boyfriend bonding time! Unrealistic desi family representation that made me wish I literally had these people as my relatives.

A/n: *cracks knuckles* all my time spent daydreaming about dragging the Moon boys into Desi, especially Tamil culture is at last put to use, I was BORN ready to answer this ask to the point where I'm turning this into a fic, so here I go.

Not proofread so if you see any glaring mistakes, no you didn't.

Translation to all the words and phrases is included at the end.

Convincing your family that you're going to bring your current boyfriend to this year's Diwali, as you guessed, wasn't an easy feat.

The moment you opened your mouth and the word "Boyfriend" spilled out, your entire family, extended included, nearly pounced on you, with an exception of your cousins, who you were hoping would save you and have your back from the elders.

The words following didn't help them calm down any further.

"He isn't Tamil??" Your uncle asked anxiously.

"No, Mama, he isn't-"

"Oh, a multi-cultural wedding in the future then!" Your younger cousin chimed in, putting in his dime to make this as light-hearted as possible.

"A North Indian then? Ayy, do we all finally have to learn Hindi?" Your aunt joked, getting collected chuckles from everyone in the room.

Forcing a laugh that sounded like an orca whale choking, you gulped. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

"He isn't an Indian, aththa, he is... Well, he was born in America, then spent some time in London, but he travels around the world a lot,"

"Hold on, he's an American?? Like NRI?" Your younger aunt asked.

"No, chithi, he isn't brown, at all-"

"Ada kadavule!" Your grandma gasped.

Shit. When the oldest in the pack are displeased, then your entire plan of introducing your boyfriends to your family might as well go down the drains.

"A white man. My daughter is going to marry a white man," Your dad kept murmuring in disbelief.

"He isn't white either," You mumbled. "He is of Latino descent"

Your family stared at you, wide eyes blinking at you. You knew how alien this is all to your family. Sending you off to America for your higher studies, as they all expected, came with more consequences than they'd thought.

They all were trying their best to be supportive and change their worldviews to accommodate a person into this wonderful family, and it meant the world to you. This could've easily been way worse, as bad as you disowning them all and running away to him forever.

Steven's calming and reassuring words echoed in your brain. He had asked you to be confident and level-headed while talking to your family, promising that everything was going to turn out fine.

It took Marc months to finally tell you that he's ready for you to talk about him to his family. You never pushed him, or constantly brought up the topic. You gave him all the time and space he needed to mull over that idea. Sharing your childhood stories meant him learning all about Indian family dynamics and whatnot, and isn't that enough for a poor Western man to fear for his life?

"So how big is your family?" Jake had asked, making you nearly choke on your idli.

"You do not wanna know, chellam," You gulped some water and went back to eating.

"Guess we all have to download duolingo then," Your younger uncle said and everyone laughed.

"So who is he? What's his name?" Your mom asked.

"Before we get into all of that, there's something important I need to tell you all," You fidgeted with your dupatta.

"Thangam, we just asked you his name?" Your uncle asked.

"He has DID," You blurted. "Dissociative Identity Disorder," You looked at your psychiatrist cousin, hoping he'd take over from here to explain all the technical stuff. You could do it yourself, but you just wanted all the eyes of you for just a second.

After giving your family some cool-down time to wrap their minds around it, they asked you what happened to him to the point he had to develop this disorder, to which you promptly said that it was not your story to share, it was your boyfriend's.

"He has three alters. They are all my boyfriends,"

"Holy shit, y/n has three boyfriends? While I'm here struggling to land even one?" Your younger cousin said, few asked him to stop swearing, and few laughed along but mostly, she did help in bringing down the tension in the air.

"Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley" You proceeded to tell your eager family all about the love of your life, playing with your bangles the whole time, excluding the part of them being ex-avatars of an ancient Egyptian deity and Marc's days as a mercenary.

"See, all of them are working and well-mannered gentlemen, I always knew you would choose well, Kanna," Your grandad smiled at you, as you felt the tight knot that you didn't realize was there loosen up considerably, finally letting you breathe properly.

"Y/n where are you? Everyone is waiting for you guys! Are y'all still getting ready?" You read your older brother's text and sent a hasty reply that you guys will reach your grandparent's house in 5 minutes.

The truth was, Marc and you were already parked at the end of the street, going over all the norms and relations, how to call them, and such one last time.

"Your mom is my aththa, your dad is my mama, your brother is my machan, and your little sister- who is she to me?" Marc looked up at you.

"I don't know, I just know that you're her mama, okay? I know, I know, there are lots of relations using the term mama, like uncle, father-in-law, or brother-in-law for younger girls. You'll get the hang of it soon enough," You took his hands into yours and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

"Marc, baby, you do know that you don't have to do this. I can just call everyone now and tell them that you can't make it-"

"No," Marc shook his head. "Y/n, I have to do this. I want to do this. They're your family, they are important to you. Which means they're important to me too,"

"Steven?" You asked. Marc just nodded, and the next second, the man sitting next to you was your sweet Steven.

"Hey, you ready?" You asked and he nodded, running his hand through his hair, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"I'll just be glad at the end of the day if this vetti doesn't fall off," He joked.

"Aye, don't worry about that! I tied it around you myself, it won't fall off, okay?" You laughed, your fingers hovering over his shirt and collar.

"I'm just wearing a simple shirt and vetti, darling, but look at you," He said, eyes sweeping over you as a blush crept on your cheek.

"You look gorgeous, love" He smiled, his wide eyes shining bright.

"You don't look half bad yourself, Romeo. Hey, is Jake here? Can I talk to him?" You asked.

"'Course, love," he said before letting way to his other alter to front.

"Oh and remember, all of you, I know this is a celebration, but a public display of affection is... not recommended, okay?" You said, checking your bag to make sure you had all the supplies. One can never be too sure if they're all set while entering an Indian celebration. "This is not a regular Diwali celebration for my family this year, we are hosting nearly the entire neighborhood," You mumbled, praying that everything goes well.

"Let's just hope there are hidden corners and passages in the house," Jake said, earning a playful glare from you.

"What? You expect me to keep my hands off you when you look like that?" Jake snaked his arm around your waist to pull you close and plant a kiss on your temple.

You were wearing an off-white and crimson saree decorated with embroidered patterns. Adorned with pieces of jewelry you and your family spent hours selecting, you knew you practically shined with all the gold framing your face, neck and waist, and wrist.

Throwing a glance at him, you had to bite back the urge to say that it was going to be harder to keep your hands off of him when he looked that good.

Hair gelled to perfection, a week full of good night's sleep, shopping, and spa made his dark circles disappear and made him glow, clean-shaven face showing off his sharp jaw and structured face. You couldn't help but feel your pride swell in your chest- he looked so sharp and handsome.

"It's getting late, darling, the function's already started. We need to get going,"

Your grandparent's house- One of the oldest and the grandest in the village, stood tall and proud against the background of trees and temples. Decorated with fairy lights and bustling with people who were either relatives or friends, the house seemed to be booming with life and a wonderful festive spirit that evening.

"So many people," You could hear Marc mutter in awe... or he was trying to calm his senses that are always on high alert whenever he was in a crowded place.

Eyes turned to gaze at the two of you, the granddaughter who left for America and her foreign boyfriend, the moment you both stepped inside the gates.

"Y/n! Come inside. Oh, there he is! The main man of the night!" Your aunt's shrill and excited voice penetrated through the murmurs and excited giggles from the crowd. "As for the rest of you, please do resume enjoying the food and beverages," She said, her sweetness not wavering even in her sharp tone.

Intertwining his hands in yours, you made sure he was alright one last time before you both proceeded to make your way to your family, who didn't waste a second in gathering in front of you.

Your mom and her sister rushed from inside, holding a ceremonial brass plate with colored, ceremonial powders, betel leaves, a couple of bananas, and a flame burning bright at its edge.

"Stand closer, dears," you don't know whose hands pushed you closer to your boyfriend, making you nearly fall over him.

"So what do I do now?" Marc whispered in your ears.

"When they've stopped circling this plate in front of us, they'll extend it towards you, you hover your hands over the flame and then place your palms over your eyes. After that, you take one of the three over there," You pointed to the viboothi, sandhanam, and kungumam.

"The red powder is the kungumam, the white one is the viboothi, and the sandal liquid is sandhanam. You take any of that and place it on your forehead," You said, as Marc listened to you intently, his eyes following the plate wherever it went.

"Which one should I choose?"

You mulled over that question for a while.

"Well, I feel like Steven would go with sandhanam, you'd go with the viboothi and Jake with the kungumam,"

"Mama, who is fronting now?" Your younger sister asked him. Your heart melted as you realized that your family has already accepted him.

"I'm Marc," he smiled, extending his hands. "So nice to finally meet you in real life," Your sister took his hand and shook it warmly, all smiley.

"Welcome to India, Marc, and more importantly, welcome to our family!" Your dad patted him on the back.

Sharing glances with him, the tension in your shoulders eased as you saw Marc practically gleaming. If he had any traces of fear or nervousness in him, he was good at hiding it.

"Marc, place the kungumam on her forehead, will you?" Your aunt asked him.

Looking at you for your approval, Marc caught you furiously blushing, tugging on the ends of your saree, and paired it up with the girls around you both giggling.

He did it nevertheless, the red vermillion streak now visible above your pottu. "What does it mean?" He whispered.

"Husbands do that to their wives," You mumbled, trying to look at him without blushing harder. Turns out, that piece of information had the same kind of effect on Marc too.

Goddamit, all these traditional lovey-dovey things were making you weak and stereotypical. But hey, when are you going to have anything like this again? You decided you, along with your boyfriend, are going to have one hell of a time this Diwali with your family.

"It isn't enough to take Aarthi for just one maapla, is it!?" Your grandma pointed out, as everyone started muttering their agreements.

Marc immediately understood what happened and let Steven front. Your family watched dumbfound as they realized that the man standing in front of them was clearly not the one who was here just seconds back.

"Steven?" Your brother asked.

"Hello there, mate, nice to meet you," Steven smiled brightly, looking wide-eyed at everyone around him. Out of all three of them, Steven was the best at handling crowds.

"Paati ma," He immediately recognized your granny from the family pictures and bowed down to touch her feet, getting collective gasps and immediate approvals and cries of pride from the crowd.

Your cousins watched in awe as you stood there, smirking. Your perfect, little boyfriend, capturing everyone's hearts already. He started out by conveying his Diwali wishes, and describing how wonderful this neighborhood and this house were as everyone conversed with him with great interest.

Repeating the same procedures to him, it was finally time for your family to meet Jake. Just because he was conscious when all this happened to Marc and Steven, he knew exactly what was expected of him and he did it with so much ease.

He handed them the sweets and fruits you both bought on the way.

"Oi, Mister, remember what I told you about the kids?" You nudged him.

"Of course, how could I forget?" He chuckled and pulled out a huge bag filled with chocolates and candies, making all the little kids go into a frenzy. "Keep the kids happy to keep the adults satisfied."

After spending a considerable amount of time deciding everyone's position for the big family picture, a perfect photo, with no one closing their eyes or having an ugly smile, approved by everyone, was clicked.

Things certainly didn't get easier for the Boys once they were all inside the house. With the adults restraining themselves from asking too many questions, the kids, using their freedom to the fullest, bombarded Jake and Steven with all they got. Marc fronted only when the hyper-active ankle biters went away to eat some sweet- a simple yet powerful tactic your uncle used to give that man some space to breathe.

"Is everyone here always so nice?" Marc asked you as a random person handed him a glass full of tender coconut water.

"Every family has its own drama and downsides, Marc, so does mine. But today, everyone decided to get along with one another and push aside unnecessary disputes because bigger things are happening," You gestured at all of him.

"All of this isn't too much, is it?" You bit your lips, dreading his answer.

"I think this is starting to grow on me," A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat down beside you on the couch. "I mean, this is all so extravagant and elaborate," He looked around the room with not a single person chilling or minding their own business. "I never thought I'd enjoy this kind of buzzing environment, but here I am," He said, gulping down the rest of the water.

"Hey! Why is maapla sitting all by himself? Is this how we treat a guest in this house?" Somebody yelled from the back.

"You're literally sitting here with me," Marc stated and got a firm head shake from you.

"Unless you're surrounded by at least 4 people at a time, you'd be considered alone,"

"Alright, damn,"

"Bring him to the dining table, food's ready! We all eat after those two have!" You heard your chithi's smile in her voice.

"Everyone's so happy to have you here, Marc," You smiled at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. "I've just- I've never really had these many people around me who aren't actively trying to kill me. Neither have Jake and Steven,"

"Don't be so quick to speak, chellam. My family will kill you by stuffing you with more sweets and savories well after you tell them that you're full," You said, both of you chuckling.

The entire night, before the actual fireworks began, felt like you were in a hyper-realistic Tamil film, with all your relatives buzzing about, bringing every South Indian dish known to date to the table, intent on making Marc, Steven, Jake and you eat all of it.

Marc looked at you with pleading eyes, practically begging you to ask them to stop, not realizing that you had no power over them either. Jake, on the other hand, was intent on tasting everything on the table. You soon found out that all three of them developed a taste for Mothi Ladoos and Mysore Pak.

After that pleasurable turned painful event got over, came the time to play family games. The kids were intent on making the Boys play charades, and soon the entire family joined in. Steven was unbelievably good at it, for some reason, and his team kept scoring too many points.

Most of the adults, including Jake and Marc, were on your team but you all were still no match for Steven and his little army of kids he had raised at this point.

The prime of the night rolled by as everyone set outside, big bags full of various kinds of crackers and fireworks. The entire length of the street was engulfed by light from the crackers. Everyone was running around from their house to another, exchanging gifts, sweets, and crackers.

You soon found out that Steven's favorite was the mathaapu. He made patterns and circles with that in the air. He soon became the mathaapu supplier for everyone. He steered clear away from the bigger fireworks, anxiously tugging on his vetti, making sure it doesn't get caught on fire.

Jake, as you had guessed, handled all the scary ones along with your brother and uncles. He dragged you with him whenever he lighted up a firework, stealing a light peck or two on your cheeks and neck when everyone was too busy looking at the skies.

Marc was so glad and amused when the kids tugged on his shirt and asked him to help them light the sangu chakrams and busvaanams. He made sure all the water buckets were always full with water, and that the kids didn't get too close to anything dangerous. Immediately stole the adults' hearts.

All the relatives and neighbors took turns bothering you and your family about your boyfriend, and if your friends didn't help in cutting them off at the right times, you would've damn near lost your mind.

When all the celebrations and the seemingly never-ending hype came down, at last, giving way to a settling night with everyone packing and cleaning stuff, with few getting back to their homes, you finally got your boyfriend all to yourself.

"Finally, some calm, huh," You inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the cold night air grazing your skin. After changing from the growingly uncomfortable attire, and removing all your makeup, you felt like you were at last able to breathe properly. Every muscle in your body ached

You and Steven were on the terrace now, just a few feet away from your temporary room the adults have cleaned up in haste.

Your boyfriend's silence made you quirk up. "Hey, is everything alright? Do you need to get back to our room?"

"No, darling, it's not that," He started, trying to find the right words.

The moment you sat down beside him, he was quick to pull you into an embrace, warmer than any firework made you feel that night. Without pulling away for a few minutes, Steven snuggled his face into the crook of your neck as you played with his hair and stroked his back.

Neither of you had to speak anything- no small talks, no reminiscing the eventful and draining night, or discussing the people of the town. All of that was for later.

After double checking that there was no one around you both, you placed a kiss on top of his head and received a heavy sigh that tickled your neck in turn.

"Thank you,"

You didn't know when Marc started fronting, but that surely was him. At this point, you knew all three were very much conscious, all three of them were here.

"Thank you," He said again, as you started cradling him in your arms.

That one word conveyed more than whatever he could've said at that time.

Translations:

Mama - Uncle/ Father-in-Law/ Older Sister's husband

Aththa - Aunt/ Mother-in-Law

Chithi - Mom's younger sister

Ada Kadvule! - Oh God!

Chellam - My dearest

Thangam - Gold, precious

Kanna - Dear

Vetti - A traditional attire usually worn by men around their waist that stops near their ankle. Official vettis are always white in color.

Saree - A traditional attire usually worm by women (that's a pain to wrap around your body)

Kungumam - Vermillion kept on people's foreheads.

Viboothi - A white-coloured ash-like powder, also kept on foreheads.

Sandhanam - Liquid Sandal, also kept on foreheads

Busvaanam - A firework that looks like a fountain or a tree

Sangu Chakram - Firework that spirals on the floor while letting off colorful sparks.

Mathaapu - A firework that you hold on to as it burns through its length.

Aarthi - A special kind of welcoming guests or your loved ones into the house.

Taglist (not my usual taglist!):

@wysteria-clad @jake-g-lockley @lil-stark @mintpurplemnm

98 notes · View notes

imarvelatthestars · 2 years

Text

Searching

Notes: Some important things to keep in mind while you're reading - ibib means darling in Ancient Egyptian & priya means beloved in Sanskrit (I think?); the heart was the only organ left in the body after mummification because it was believed to hold your thoughts and feelings and would be needed in the afterlife; Mundeshwari (or Mundesvari) temple in India is the oldest Hindu temple in the country, dating from 108 CE, and was dedicated to Durga.

Pairings: Durga x Khonshu; Marc & Steven x Desi Durga!Avatar!Reader

Warnings: multiple points of view; brief reference to the reader masturbating; this is really just a drabble in disguise

Steven dreams a lot. He's used to it by now, almost expects to wake up in the morning with a strange bruise that can only be explained by a bout of sleepwalking, and he always expects that his dreams won't make any sense. But lately, lately there's something different about them. Lately, he wakes up with a name on his tongue and visions of a woman with a third eye and too many arms to count. He thinks maybe there was even a lion once, but he's not too sure. It's all a little hazy when he tries to focus on it.

He carries on with his life. He goes to work, eats, comes home, watches telly, and puts as many precautions into place as he can to keep himself safe. And he pretends that he's just a normal man living a normal life.

॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰

"Don't tell Steven." That was the one rule you'd been given and you were keen to follow it, but at some point London stopped being a massive metropolis and started to turn into that backwater little town where everyone knows each other. This week alone, you've narrowly avoided bumping into Marc's alter three separate times. Last week, you almost ran your shopping cart into his at the store and had to duck behind the pomegranate display so he wouldn't see you, and then had to bury your face in a newspaper when he got on your bus the following day.

You don't tell Marc about it when he comes crashing into your hotel room late on a Friday night, don't tell him how you're intrigued by the awkward tenderness you see in every single thing that Steven does, especially while an invisible jackal tries to tear you to shreds. And you certainly don't let your perfectly crafted mask crack when the jackal dies with a crescent dagger in its back and a trishula in its chest and you see those impossible eyes that make your knees week. You don't say anything when Marc reaches for you, stops himself, then jumps back out your window as if nothing had ever happened. But you think about it for the next three nights every time your hand is pressed between your thighs.

॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰

Why don't libraries have shopping carts? It boggles the mind that no one until now has had to check out enough books that they need a basket to lug it all around in. Steven has half a mind to ask the librarian about it, but decides not to when he sees the way she looks at his check-out stack.

"I know I'm only s'pposed t' take out, like, 5, but I was hoping that since I'm a star student as it were, you might be able to make an exception for me? Just this once, yeah? Not like all the time." He smiles. "It's really important."

He looks over his collection once he gets back to his flat and he's not entirely sure where he's going to put them all, but he'll make do somehow. There's a spot on his desk with just enough room for some of the smaller ones, so he starts there. He pulls out his readers, a pencil with way too many chew marks, and a notebook and sets to work.

Steven learns a lot of things that night, about Kali and Mahadevi and Shakti, about Sanskrit mantras and puja, and about the mother goddess Durga, the name that strikes something deep in his heart that he cannot comprehend. It reminds him of the scent of jasmine, of a stolen trident he lost in a dream, of lion's claws and a cotton saree in the sand. He thinks maybe he's going a bit loopy from staying up too late.

॰ ☆ ॰ ☽ ॰ ☆ ॰

"The worm is learning."

The moonlight is cool and familiar on Durga's shoulders. It ripples and spills over her hair, down the bare length of her spine, and highlights the golden edge of her saree where it brushes her ankles.

"Is that such a terrible thing?" she wonders.

Linen wrapped hands, ancient bones poking through the gaps, brush over her skin like they have a million times before. The musk of her lover is older than the pyramids and older than her temple in Mundeshwari, older than a thousand lifetimes, yet still he remains.

"Do not think of him tonight."

Khonshu grumbles and leans back against the chimney he's perched himself on. Durga follows him, sinks into the firmness of his ribcage and smiles.

"There is too much to think of." His voice rumbles through her. "Harrow is amassing followers by the thousands and Ammit awaits him, yet my avatar relinquishes his control to a fool who stumbles about as if in a dream."

"You're too harsh on him." The unspoken "you're too harsh on all of them" lingers in the air. It's the one thing she struggles with, even now, the one thing that makes her doubt the choice she made too many years ago to count. "Even a god must rest, priya, and you are no exception."

A heavy sigh rattles deep in Khonshu's bones. He's tired. She knows him too well for him to put up pretenses, so he relinquishes the last of his fight and lays it at her feet. "As you wish, ibib." He wraps an arm around her shoulders to bring her in close and finds himself falling even more in love with every whiff of sandalwood he catches.

"Undo my braid."

He bathes in the jasmine of her hair and she in his frankincense wrappings, and they let the worries of avatars and gods drift away for a night. She unfolds herself for him and he remembers to unwrap his heart for her, the only thing left inside his body after a millenia of decay.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #desi reader #hindu reader #reader of color #durga #khonshu #for snisha #enjoy the interlude while i brainstorm more ideas for them!!#i can't fully understand why but khonshu x durga have me feeling a million billion things rn i love them #marvel #moon knight #lmao i forgot to add those

45 notes · View notes

luke-o-lophus · 2 years

Note

Read your recent post where you talk of your itch to write;

Here you go, bestie, take your pick :D

Desi reader trying to tie a sari, gets tangled up and falls flat on her ass and gets teased by the boys.

Moon boys x sorcerer supreme reader

Moon boys x afab reader with a masc aesthetic ( very self-indulgent)

Fusion bar!!!!! Dancing to desi bangers. It's shocking for the system to see their grouchy partner, who is grumpy most of the time, lose their head when badtameez dil starts playing.

I'm sry if they are too many. It's just I'm not a writer, and these are scenarios I wish someone would pen down. Love your works btw:)))))

(hey hey thank you so much!! I went with the first one but changed it up a little, for something completely fluffy and romantic. Bollywood-grade romance ahoy!)

(Desi female reader is trying to wear a saree, much to the distress and confusion of everyone's favourite London bloke)

"Love, that looks dangerous", Steven sounds doubtful. You look up in a trice, brow cocked and an opened safety pin held between your lips. "What?", you mumbled around the pin, making Steven shudder. He was staring helplessly as you wrestled on a Saree. For his life, he couldn't wrap his head around how that long-ass strip of cloth was supposed to morph itself into a dress.

From the looks of it, you weren't too sure either. This was your third attempt at pleating the fabric and tucking at your waist, you kept undoing it after every attempt with frustrated sighs. Steven wishes he could help, but he was at a complete loss. He had sneaked a look at a youtube video, but he was at a loss at how easy they made it look. How were the pleats all uniform, and how were they not falling apart. Not to mention, he might have been a little distracted by your whines and wiggles while your top was clad only in a blouse.

You let out a truimphant noise and finally pin the pleats, earning a sigh of relief from Steven at finally removing the sharp pin away. "It'll be worth it", you tell him, as you gather the remaining fabric to wrap around your torso.

But either you're too short, or the saree is too long, or you aren't too great at draping one. In an attempt to gather up the fabric splayed on the ground, you turn and twist yourself excitedly...the finishing line in sight. Unsurprisingly, your toe catches the edge of the fabric right as you pull it, quite literally pulling the rug from underneath yourself. You let out an embarrasing squeak as you slip, but two arms wrap around your torso before you can fall.

You're looking up at his big brown eyes then, wide and dancing in amusement, lips pursed in barely held laughter. "Hi", he whispers, tightening his hold around your waist and shoulders as you looked up at him mesmerised. "This is very bollywood", you whisper breathlessly making him chuckle. He doesn't let go, but lets you get your footing while you still lean against him. When he's sure you're not going to fall, his arm around your waist loosens to trace up along your hand, gathering the upper edge of the saree's loose end and dragging it up slowly to your shoulder. You're too entranced to break eye contact, his touch on your shoulders electric even as he's doing the opposite of undressing you. Your hand reaches up to hold the fabric in place, and meets his fingers there. As you straighten yourself, he wraps the extra fabric gently around your back, pulling you closer by it. "You're right, darling", he whispers, leaning in, his lips just shy of yours. "This is bloody worth it."

#luke #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x desi reader #desi reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader

34 notes · View notes

jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Note

akka i cannot get this idea out of my head and i have to request it because ik only you will be able to do justice to it<3

may i please have a jake lockley x desi!reader where only jake and reader and together and reader is a journalist and knows about marc and steven but they don't know about her or jake ftr. for extra angst let marc and steven and layla be together and one day layla is just walking somewhere snd sees her husband and some ranom girl wearing a kurta and she's laughing and they're having tea, it can't be steven because the man's body language is not like steven and it cannot be marc, marc hates tea. and then she seems him kiss the girls forehead and doesn't know what to do. the rest is up to you akka, thank you so so much<3

The Other Woman (Jake Lockley x desi!reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Tiny bit of physical aggression Word Count: 1.3k words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request omggg @brekkers-desigirl. Sorry it took so long lol. The reason why I haven’t been writing about Layla is I love her so much, I can’t do this to her haha, but anyway here is my attempt at your very detailed idea <33 And oh yea, it really hurt to write :”)

Your POV

“No, oh gods, I think they are overworking me at this point, I’m so tired of everything.” you say, swirling your chai in the cup and frowning at your boyfriend.

“Muñeca, maybe it's time you take some time off work, you know, just relax, do nothing for a while.” Jake says, rubbing your back.

Your job is how you met Jake. You were on the way back from an interview for the newspaper and your bag got snatched, along with all the important documents that you had not uploaded to the cloud. Jake had swooped down like your Knight in Egyptian armor, got your bag back for you and walked you back to your flat. You kept running into him every other night after that eventually he revealed himself to you.

It took a while for Jake to tell you that he had feelings for you and it had come about in an unexpected burst, along with his other secret, the fact that he had two other identities. You accepted him nevertheless but Jake had never let Marc and Steven front when he was around you, hiding them away from you.

You smile up at Jake who gave you a little wink and took a sip of his chai. The both of you were sitting outside a little Indian cafe that had just opened next to Jake’s flat.

“I think your chai is better, mi amor.” Jake whispers and you laugh, and shush him, shaking your head, your jimmikis twinkling.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Layla’s POV Layla looked at her phone and frowned. Steven and Marc said that their new flat was in this part of the city, but she couldn’t seem to find it. She asked a nearby policeman who kindly pointed her to the right direction. She runs up to the main door and searches for the bell to their flat and rings it.

A loud laugh floated into her ears and she turned to see a happy couple in the distance, laughing over tea and biscuits. The woman had long flowy hair that cascaded down her back, was wearing a kurti and had a big smile on her face as she stared adoringly at…

Huh?

Is that Marc? No that can’t be. Not Steven either, he was sitting too confidently. Suddenly, the man who was wearing her husband’s face leans in and kisses the woman’s forehead, the action causing Layla to start feeling dizzy and confused, heart pounding uncontrollably.

She didn’t know what to do with the situation in front of her. Does she just approach them? Pull the woman aside when her husband steps away to pay the bill? She regained her senses and decided to choose the former, walking over to her husband and the woman, still watching them talk and laugh.

“Marc? Steven?” Layla called out and the man whipped his head to face her, eyes wide. She knew instantly who she was looking at and it wasn’t the two that she knew of.

“Jake? Who’s this?” The woman asked, looking up at Layla.

He stayed silent and Layla raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re the one who took over and slaughtered everyone in Egypt, when Marc blacked out?” Layla said, softly so that only the three of them could hear.

“I’m sorry, what?” the woman beside Jake stared wide-eyed at Layla, standing up from her seat, shawl dropping onto her seat.

“I’m Layla El-Faouly, and I am his wife.”

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV Jake didn’t give the beautiful lady with curly hair a chance to continue. He stood up and grabbed onto your hand and you let yourself be dragged away from the woman as you tried to assess the situation but the gears in your brain refused to turn.

You found yourself in Jake's flat and you struggled to breathe. The woman’s voice reverberated through your head, her words playing like a tape recording over and over.

“Jake, was she telling the truth? Is she married to Steven and Marc?” you whisper.

Jake avoided looking into your eyes and clenched his jaw, still holding onto your hand. You scanned his face and realized that he had closed off all his emotions again.

You wrench your hand from his grasp and ask him again. “Was she telling the truth?”

“Yes, yes she is.” Jake says, his voice gruff and low, after a while.

“So, you’re telling me that I was dating a married man.” your voice echoed through the pin drop silence in the flat. Jake’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.

You nod, to no one in particular.

“You lied to me. If you knew everything about Steven and Marc then why didn’t you tell me you were married? Why didn't you tell me before I fell in love with you and started to care about you? I can’t believe you lied to me, Jake.” You felt a panic attack slowly stirring up in you, but you backed into a wall, slid down and sank onto the floor, trying to chase the air that was quickly leaving your lungs.

Jake walks towards his closet, his footsteps heavy against the wooden floor, leaving you speechless on the floor. You watch as he wiped his face with a cloth and started to pull clothes off himself and change, his strong physique flexing and you snap out of your daze when he starts putting on his jacket.

“Oh no, no, no, you are not leaving here without an explanation, Jake. You can’t just run away from this.” you say, getting up and quickly striding towards him. You grab his right wrist, nails digging into his skin, to try and stop him from shrugging the jacket onto his shoulders.

“I don’t take orders from anyone.” he growled, wrenching his arm out of your grasp and took long strides towards the door.

You duck under him and block the door with your body, until you both are face to face, your chin tilting upwards to catch his eye.

“Move,” he says, a deep scowl twisted his beautiful features into a menacing look.

“Not until you give me a proper clarification on this whole situation.” you say again, clutching at his shirt with both of your hands, pulling him closer.

“I said, move.” he says again, gripping your wrists.

“I don’t take orders from you.” you repeat his line, a little louder than you expected, your lips curling into a scowl that mirrored his own.

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pout. Your eyes go wide at the sudden change of behavior and you freeze, your breath hitching.

“I’d advise you to shut your mouth before the neighbors come knocking.” he snarled, tilting his head.

Your stare didn’t falter despite the tears that had started running down your face again. Your tears dripped over his hands and the scowl on his face drops slightly at the sight of your tears and he drops his hand but stays silent. You bite your lip as you try to stop the tears from taking over you. You swallow and let go of his shirt.

“You don’t have to leave your own house, I’ll go,” you say, wiping your eyes and nose. “But just so you know, that once I leave, you will never see me ever again, Jake Lockley. I hope you solve whatever shit you’re going through right now.”

With that, you slip out of the flat and slam the door on his face, walking away, never turning back.

Translations:

Chai: Indian Tea

Muñeca: Doll

Mi amor: My love

Jimmikis: Jhumka are a style of earring worn by women of the Indian subcontinent. Under the Mughal Empire, the Kharanpool jhumka evolved into a single jewel, still maintaining its bell shape.

Kurti: A kurta (or sometimes kurti, for women) is a loose collarless shirt worn in many regions of South Asia, and now also worn around the world.

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #moon knight fluff #jakeglockley asks #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x desi!reader #jake lockley x desi!reader #marc spector x desi!reader #steven grant #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight angst #jake lockley angst #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x female!reader #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley imagines #requests

204 notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Fanfic Recs List!

(not necessarily written in November, but that’s when I read ‘em! - a little shorter than normal, beacause I was unwell during most of Dec.)

🎀 - fluff ☔ - angst 🍑 - smut

🎀 thunder only happens when it’s raining (llewyn davis x reader) - @eyelessfaces

🍑A Change (Marc Spector x gn!reader) - @romanarose

🍑Seattle Series (Marc Spector X Jewish!OC) - @romanarose

🍑More Than Alright (Steven x Layla) - @howaboutcastiel

🍑The Eye of the Moon Series (Moon Boys System x Layla x Desi!OFC) - @nadja-antipaxos

🎀Secret Santa With Steven (Steven Grant x reader) - @grantspectortrash

🎀New Year (Steven x Layla) - @otherworldsys

🍑Crazy Bitch (Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader) - @romanarose

🍑Kyoko’s Secret Santa (Nathan Bateman x f!reader) - @kittyofalltrades

🍑The Consequences Of Being A Brat (Nathan Bateman x afab!reader) - @midgardian-witch

🍑 Come And Put Your Name On It (Poe Dameron x f!reader) - @welcometostayingawake

🎀Midnight (Poe Dameron x GN!Reader) - @campingwiththecharmings

They are all amazing!

#fanfic #fanfic recs #fanfic recommendations #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #moon knight #moon knight mcu #llewyn davis #nathan bateman #poe dameron

80 notes · View notes

popquizhot-shot · 2 years

Text

ALL DESI MOON KNIGHT FANS~ I am currently writing a moon knight system x desi!fem!reader with a lot of desi elements including bitching about gandhi, rasmalai, lehengas, kurtas, kajal, CHAI, dancing to desi music, gaalis, cricket and desi trauma(will have elements of racism), nani's sweets, shitting on the education system, etc

please interact if you want to be tagged!

edit: POSTED

@confuscita @just-laufeyson @luvsersi @whatagaydumbass @lil-stark

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x desi!reader #marc spector x desi!reader #jake lockley x desi!reader #jake lockley #soft jake is *sobs*#marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff #desi!reader #desiblr

73 notes · View notes

wysteria-clad · 1 year

Text

My beloved desi Moon knight readers, hear me out-

Imagine:

You go to the museum where Steven works, and you wear silver anklets, and one of the little screws it it loosens and one of the anklets falls off from your ankle, but you don't notice it right away and leave.

And of course, here comes the cliche, but idc idc, Steven finds it 😌

You notice it when you get home, you panic when you realise it. You remember seeing it before you went to the museum, so you figure out it must be there. And the next morning, you ask around the staffs about it. They don't respond well, but then you see Steven and you ask him. Him being a sweetheart shows your missing anket. But he wants to make sure it's really yours and asks for the other pair, you get annoyed a bit, but show him your other one still on your ankle, shaking it a bit and the beads in it make little jingle sound (you guys know that jal jal sound when you walk wearing the classic™ Indian silver anklets with silver beads😂).

He is obviously flustered, and gets awkward that he even doubted you. You understand that and laugh a little to make him feel less awkward. And you thank him. And we all know what happens next 😋

Kind of little bit like Cinderella, but make it desi 💃🏽

#steven grant imagine #steven grant x desi reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x desi reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight #desi reader #steven grant

115 notes · View notes

softieekayy · 2 years

Text

Closer

Marc Spector x Shivangi

Word count: 2027

Shivangi was interesting. She wasn't open but wasn’t closed off, she lingered in between the two. One thing she wasn’t was unwelcoming. When Layla brought Marc to her place, she didn’t hesitate to take him in with open arms. He watched her now, outside hanging clothes on the clothing line. Marc observed her from his place inside. He watched how her long curly black hair was braided into a loose fishtail. The way the sun bounced off of it made it look more reddish-brown than just plain black. Then again, Shivangi wasn’t plain. She was something, Marc didn’t know what it was about her that drew him in but he wanted more.

Marc didn’t even know her long but all he wanted to do was drown himself in her jasmine scent. “Stop staring at her Marc, you look like a creep.” Layla’s voice snapped him out of his staring session and he turned to look at Layla, she wore a slight smile on her face, drinking some chai from a small cup and passing one to Marc as well. “I’m not staring at her, I just got lost in thought.” Marc’s voice was gruff and dismissing. Layla wasn’t stupid, she could see that Marc was interested in her. Shivangi was interested in him too. As if she sensed being talked about, the young woman turned and looked at the two before walking toward them. An empty laundry basket was placed on her hip.

“Sabah El Kheir.” Shivangi greeted the two, her voice sounding happy as always. Layla returned her greeting along with Marc. He was in Cairo long enough to know some Arabic. Layla and Shivangi were better though, they grew up in the city. Both girls are polyglots, the two grew up learning several languages. “So, what were you two gossiping about?” Shiangi’s question made Marc choke on his chai and Layla harshly smacked him on his back, he turned around to shoot the girl a glare only to get an innocent smile in response.

Shivangi laughed at the interaction before setting the basket down on the floor and stretching, she was sore from sleeping in an awkward position last night. Her hair that hung over her back previously now hung over her shoulder and Marc could make out how long it was. It was waist length when braided and thick, there were red undertones to it that were highlighted in the sun. Shivangi’s eyes looked like a flat black in plain light but in the sun, there are so many different shades of brown that Marc couldn’t pinpoint one. The silver jhumki she wore in her ears also caught in the sun and shined brighter than they had before.

Shivangi looked at them expectantly, her hand gesturing for either one to talk. Layla was the one who broke the silence this time, “You. We were talking about you.” This time, Shivangi stood in silence, a confused look contorting her features. Shivangi took the cup of chai from Layla, taking a sip from it before handing it back. She paused for a minute then spoke. “What of me?” Despite the question being directed to Layla, Shiangi’s gaze was directed onto Marc. Marc looked up to see Shivangi looking at him, her eyes squinting due to the bright glare of the sun, his neck warmed up as a slight blush took over it. She was the only woman who could make him feel like a teenager.

“Hm, you seem like a fool. Blushing under the stare of a girl you’ve known for less than 3 days? Pathetic.” Khonshu’s voice boomed in Marc’s head as he jabbed at him, the comment made Marc scowl. The murder bird always had something to say about Marc’s life. “I think that you’re just jealous.” Marc hissed back to Khonshu, he didn’t get a response. Snapping out of his thoughts, Marc looked up at Shivangi, only to find her gone. Layla informed him that she went to take a shower and then planned on praying. After Layla left, Marc went inside the house to the living room and sat. he sat there for a good 5 minutes, staring at the picture of teen Layla and Shivangi, the young girls were dressed in matching clothes. Layla opted for a pink kurta while Shivangi wore a black one. He stared at the picture for a couple of seconds before circling back to the couch and picking up a book, Shivangi’s book. He saw her reading it yesterday.

Marc sifted through the pages, they were littered with sticky notes and Shivangi’s small handwriting. He let out a small chuckle, her writing was very small but neat enough to read. He liked it, she wrote small notes on how cute the relationship was or how cute and frustrating the male lead is. Time had passed and Marc didn’t know how much. He was engrossed in the book to even hear the footsteps and the slight jingle of anklets.

‘Enjoying the book now, are we?” Shivangi’s voice held a teasing tone that caused him to drop the book on his nose, Marc groaned in pain while Shivangi laughed. He glared at her through hooded lids. Coming closer, Shivangi ran her hands through Marc's hair and he arched into her touch, needing more of it. “Are you hurt?’ Marc nodded no before he let Shivangi take his face and cradle it in her hands, checking him over for injuries.

“You’re worried for him, but he’s not hurt. His god will heal him.” Lord Shiva’s voice rang in Shivangi’s head and she pulled her hand away from Marc’s face, frowning slightly. He frowned, wondering why Shivangi pulled her hand away from his hair, he missed the feeling of her nails scratching his scalp. Shivangi stood up, flattening down the turquoise sari she wore and spoke, “Marc, I’m planning on going out to the market today, will you come with me?” Shivangi’s voice was soft as she spoke, fiddling with her choodi.

Marc looked up through squinted eyes, his nose still throbbing. His hair fell messily over his tanned forehead and a slight bruise formed on his forehead from where the book hit. “Hm? Oh yeah, I’ll come with you.” Shivangi shot him a beaming smile before walking into her room and grabbing her purse. When she came out, Marc was already sitting up wearing a jacket, ready to go. He stood up when Shivangi came out, “Let’s go.” and with those words, the two walked out the door making their way to the market.

Their trip to the market wasn’t exciting but the walk back home was. “So Marc Spector, tell me about yourself.” she walked beside him, the bag filled with groceries in front of her. Marc paused for a minute, wondering what she wanted to know. He glanced at her from the side of his eye before speaking. “There’s nothing much to know, I joined the army, am a mercenary, died, became the avatar of Khonshu.”

Shivangi eyed him with a look. One that Marc could not understand, he stopped walking and she stopped too. “Is there something else you’d like to know?” Marc surprised himself with that question. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to peel back all his layers and present himself in front of her bare.

“No. However, I see that you want to know something Marc, so, ask away?” Shivangi’s voice was soft and delicate, the complete opposite of Marc’s. He didn’t know how, but she read right through him and was permitting him to ask, and he did. “You’re Lord Shiva’s avatar, how does that work for you? Does he get you to do his bidding or?” Shivangi laughed at this question. A full-blown laugh, the head was thrown back and everything. Seeing her laugh, Marc had a smile tugging on his lips too. “I don’t do his bidding per se, but I am a sort of human form of him. An avatar that manifested a human form. I am the destroyer of evil and the creation of good. One cannot exist without the other. I follow his lead and bless those who he says to bless, grant justice and vengeance to those who deserve it. My Trishul is used to destroy the evilest of evil. Nothing like what Khonshu makes you do. I am much more complex than you are.”

Shivangi’s response made Marc understand how different she was from him. Where Khonshu got him to be his fist of vengeance, Shiva got Shivangi to be his avatar, a human manifestation of him. She was him, a piece of Shiva that gifted the human world, and took care of evil as her god did eons ago. They had both stopped a while ago, Shivangi stood with her back facing the glaring sun. It allowed Marc to fully take her in.

She donned a turquoise sari that had white thread work on it. Her previously braided hair now fell openly down her back like a waterfall and the silver nose ring she wore shined brightly in the sun along with the jhumki she wore this time were more elaborate, this time they had two strings of small white beads that were pinned up in her hair. Marc thought that she looked like an illusion. Something that his mind made up to distract him from the pain. However he knew it wasn’t possible, his mind was not complicated enough to come up with someone like Shivangi.

The pair continued walking and not long after they’d reached home. Upon entering, the house was silent, an indication that Layla had left to tend to her own business. Something that Shivangi didn’t dabble in. Marc helped her put away the groceries, most of which consisted of spices and offerings. Once that task was done, Shivangi made lunch. Nothing elaborate, just some leftover lamb she made last night and some roti. The silence was a common theme between Shivangi and Marc, neither of them find the need to speak when in the presence of one another. The food was served and eaten, the dishes were cleaned just as fast too.

The pair stood in the kitchen while one washed and the other dried, any stranger who looked in the house would think that it was a couple doing household chores. Once that was finished, Shivangi dragged Marc outside to sit on a swinging daybed in the back, one Marc had not noticed before. They both sat there, under the sky that was being painted pink and orange. This time, Marc was the one to say, “Have you ever thought about leaving?” Shivangi turned to look at him, a slightly confused look coating her features. “Cairo, would you want to leave Cairo?” Marc clarified himself and from the corner of his eye, he saw Shivangi nod her head before speaking, “I didn’t leave because my family was here, not that they’re not, I suppose it is time for me to leave. Layla is busy with her stuff and she can handle herself too, no need for me.”

“You could leave now, leave and travel or whatever it is that you want to do.” Shivangi smiles at Marc’s words, “Why are you asking Marc Spector, is there somewhere you’d like me to be?” Shivangi was fully facing Marc now, her knees drawn up to her chest and her cheek smushed against her arm. “London, come with me, or not. That is up to you but I truly would want to see you there Shivangi, I think the city would suit you.” Marc’s words shocked her again, he wanted her to come with him.“He wants you to go with him, and you should. Unless you want to stay here, then do so.” Lord Shiva’s voice rang in her head and Shivangi got up quickly. “Let me think about it, Marc.” There was no need for her to think as her mind was already made up, Shivangi would go to London, whether it be with Marc or after him. Giving him a pat on the thigh, she got up and left, leaving Marc to stare at her retreating figure.

#marc spector x reader fluff #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader fluff #steven grant #marvel mcu #mcu #layla el faouly #desi reader #hinduism #shiva #moon knight x reader #khonshu

62 notes · View notes

itsprashimusic · 2 years

Text

You Make Me Strong (part 2)

Summary - After coming back home from a really long mission and breaking down in your arms, all Steve wants to do is fall asleep in your arms. But after being woke up by a nightmare, a realisation dawns on him.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x desi!wife!reader

Word Count - 985

Warnings - rescue mission gone wrong, explosives/explosions, hindi words with english translations in brackets, 1 or 2 swear words, steve speaking hindi, small dancing scene

A/N - this was inspired by One Direction's ‘Strong’ and in my opinion one of the BEST romantic bollywood songs “Mast Magan”

also the summary is shit, the 'realisation' bit is actually pretty short.

Part 1

masterlist is pinned

Steve had come back home from a very long mission. He was covered in dirt but neither of you cared when all you wanted was to feel each other’s embrace. It was late at night when he returned. After all the initial hugs, kisses and tears, he went to freshen up while you put the things from his back away.

You warmed up his favourite aloo parathas. “इश्क़ की धुनि…” (the flame of love) you sang under your breath, a bollywood song stuck in your head. Swaying back and forth you got more into the lyrics, the yellow light setting the right atmosphere, it somehow raining outside at the perfect time. Just as you closed your eyes and twirled around, your husband caught you, spinning you once more before slow dancing with you.

“मांगे है तेरी मंजूरी..” (have sought your permission) he sang where you stopped. It always warms your heart whenever Steve would learn the songs you love just to sing them to you. Especially the hindi songs, since those took effort to both learn and pronounce correctly. The beeping microwave made you break apart, but not before he kissed the back of your hand, then letting you go. Always the gentleman.

Telling him to sit down at the table, you bring out the food and let him eat. Assuming by how quickly he finished his meal, he was hungry. “Now that beat the shitty sandwichs they gave us to eat,” he said while finishing up. Before he could get up you take his plate to the sink and wash it. Steve doesn’t say anything. Instead he just watches you with only love in his eyes.

Later you both were getting ready for bed. He had already brushed his teeth while you were in the bathroom doing the very thing. He could hear your paayals making a little noise as you went shuffling around the bathroom.

He noticed his favourite hoodie sitting on the sofa-chair in the room, as if laid out to be worn. It got Steve thinking. She knew that he was coming home today, did she leave it out for him to wear? Or was it being aired out since she probably wore it during his absence? Either way, it made him smile for no visible reason.

You made your way to the bed while switching the hallway light off outside the room. Once you pulled back the covers and got yourself situated in the bed Steve immediately held your waist and smoothly pulled you closer to him.

“How are you feeling राजा?” you asked him, softly. He replied in the same low, breathy tone, “a couple of things, but mostly tired right now.” You could see the red in his eyes and how he was fighting sleep just as much as you. “How ‘bout we go to sleep and tomorrow we can stay in bed all day, that sound good?” he asked, freckling kisses all over your face. He got a soft hum in response from you.

He turns to switch the bedroom light off and pulls you closer to him while slowly drifting off to sleep.

“You both head in from the east, we both will enter from the west. Team Alpha will free the hostages and get them to the aircraft. Team Beta is on takeout duty. You see any figure from the opposing party, take them out instantly. And finally Team Charlie will sweep the place once all the hostages are on the aircraft and will set the explosives. Is the plan understood?”

(FLASH)

“Are all the hostages out?” “Apparently yes Captain, but they are searching the premises once more just to be sure.” “Good, once they’re out the explosives will be set off.”

(FLASH)

“THERE ARE STILL HOSTAGES IN THERE?!” “Cap, they already sweeped the place thrice and no more hostages were found. And the dynamite timer is already set, there is nothing we can do”

(FLASH)

‘Images of the building exploding and screaming coming from the rescued people. Most of the commotion being the people saying how there were more hostages that just got killed’

(FLASH)

Steve woke up with a jump. He had a nightmare about the innocent people he accidentally killed. He had ordered the explovies timer be set when the team leader had confirmed there were no more hostages in the structure. But yet there were. They had not searched hard enough to find them and now the hostages were just mere ash and burned bodies lying underneath bricks and rubble.

Even though Steve woke up, you were still fast asleep, no longer in his arms but still on his side of the bed. He was breathing heavily, his face, neck and hands sweating profusely. He turned the bedside lamp on. But when he turned to face you, slowly his breathing evened out.

The serene and peaceful look of your face smushed in the pillow was all he needed to see. To see that you were safe, you were unharmed and most importantly right next to him, alive. He looked at you and softly said, “I’m sorry if I say I need you, but I don’t care.” “There is so much I wish I would’ve done differently. But I didn’t and I made mistakes. Mistakes that have cost the lives of innocent people… Is it wrong for me to say that I need you to be strong for me? There is only so much I can do, so much I can hide. Especially in a situation like this when you’re not nearby, cause when I’m not with you I’m weaker.” Steve uses the back of his hand to swipe away the stray tear.

He turns the lamp off and lies back down in bed, cuddling close to you. Little did he know that you woke up with all that movement just in time to hear him say this, “You make me strong.”

@madscape @joelsflannel @moonstruckbirdie @nana1000night

118 notes · View notes