Written in the Stars
Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader (implied Marc Spector x gn!reader and Jake Lockley x gn!reader)
Word Count: 800
Summary: Steven doesn’t have a birthday. He takes the task of choosing one very seriously.
Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (love)
A/N: This follows Leap Year, but it’s not necessary to read that first. I don’t know a ton about astrology, so I’m learning as I go. Enjoy! :)
Masterlist
“Here it is!” you say triumphantly, pulling a purple book off one of Steven’s lower shelves.
Steven takes the book in his hands gingerly, as if it’s something sacred. “Why do you have this, anyway?”
You shrug. “My college roommate was really into astrology and tried to get me interested, too. I just never got rid of it. It’s sentimental, I guess.”
Steven nods, already flipping through the pages as he makes his way to the couch. “So, what signs are Marc and Jake, again?” he asks, not looking up.
You join him on the couch. “Both Pisces, oddly enough,” you remark.
He hums. “Maybe I should be, too.” He quickly consults the table of contents before flipping to the page on Pisces. “‘Empathetic, imaginative, creative,’” he reads. He skims a few more pages before saying, “It’s all a bit vague, innit?”
You laugh. “I guess it is, yeah.”
“Well, you can turn on the telly or grab your own book, if you like. This will take me a bit to get through.”
You stare at him. “You’re not gonna read the whole thing, are you?”
He looks back at you, confused. “How else will I know what sign I am?”
“I don’t think it’s that serious,” you say. “Jake just picked a date he liked.”
Steven just shrugs. “I’d like to see what the book says, I think.”
“Alright,” you say with a shrug of your own. “Knock yourself out.” You scooch towards the other end of the couch, where your latest read is waiting on the end table. You turn on the lamp and settle in.
Steven’s a fast reader. In the time it takes you to slog through a few chapters, he’s closing the astrology book with a satisfying thump. “All done,” he announces.
You close your own book after marking your place with a bookmark (a slightly crumpled receipt counts as a bookmark, right?). “And? What’d you pick?”
“Virgo,” he says.
“Yeah?” you ask, interested. “Why’s that?”
Steven finds the appropriate page and reads, “‘Intelligent, analytical, hard-working.’” He looks to you, his confidence wavering. “That…sounds like me, right?”
You offer him a kind smile. “I think so, yeah. Did you pick a date?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet.” He briefly looks down again. “Says here I can do any day from the twenty-third of August to the twenty-second of September.”
You hum.
“Wait a second…” Steven trails off, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and typing something in.
“What?” you ask.
“Aha!” he says. “Twenty-fourth August. That’s what I want my birthday to be.”
“How come?”
“Tomb Buster premiered on that day in 1990. I reckon us Steven Grants should have the same birthday,” he explains with a grin.
You can’t help but match his smile. “August twenty-fourth it is, then. I’ll add it to my calendar.”
He closes the book again and hands it back to you. “Thank you for lending that to me, love.”
“Any time,” you say, taking the book and returning it to its spot on the bookshelf. You glance at the clock. “Ready to start on dinner?”
“Sounds good to me,” Steven says, standing up and following you to the kitchen.
After dinner has been taken care of and you’ve watched a movie, you’re in the bathroom getting ready for bed. You can hear Steven talking outside the door. You assume he’s conversing with his alters.
When you exit the bathroom, you see Steven standing at the fish tank, bottle of fish food in hand. He doesn’t seem to notice you as he continues on speaking. You realize he’s talking to the fish.
“Maybe I should’ve picked Pisces, Gus,” he muses.
Gus II and his two tank-mates, Tom and Jerry (named together by Marc and Jake, despite Steven’s protests), swim around in slow circles, seemingly waiting for Steven to feed them.
He shakes the bottle, watching the flakes drop gently into the water. “Then all three of us would be the same. And Pisces is fish, innit? It fits.”
“Steven!” you groan playfully. “You can’t just change your zodiac sign!”
“Why not?” he counters. “I just picked it today. There should be some sort of trial period, right?”
You snort. “Maybe, but I like the day you picked. It means something to you.”
“Alright, fine,” Steven says. He bids the fish good night before following you to the bed.
You settle in under the covers and say good night to one another. Your eyes are closed when you hear Steven ask into the darkness, “Do I get a cake for my birthday?”
You smile to yourself. “If you want one.”
“And presents?”
“Of course.”
It’s quiet for a moment. Then, “What about balloons?”
“Whatever you want, Steven,” you say fondly. “Whatever you want.”
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. :)
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