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#steven grant imagines
scarletttries · 9 months
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NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)
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Steven Grant + Recording: (prompt list here)
(Part Two Here!!)
- When Steven Grant bought a little camcorder and stand a few years ago, he had very innocent reasons in mind. Yes, the stand was set up so the camera pointed straight at his bed, but it was to capture exactly why we woke up so exhausted from a night of tossing and turning alone, not for anything more fun than that.
- Naturally anytime you were coming over, he'd carefully stash the device away, not wanting to creep you out or do anything to risk making the most important person in his life uncomfortable. He knows just how lucky he is to be the man that gets to worship your body, and even though he'd die for the chance to relive every one of your intimate encounters, he thinks it's way too weird of a question to ask.
- That is until one night you surprise him at home, on your way back from a girl's night and missing your sweet, nerdy boyfriend. He's over the moon when he opens the door to your bright, smiling face, quickly surrendering to your hypnotic kiss as you lead him to the bed he was all but ready to settle into for the night alone.
- Your hands are pushing his shirt off his shoulders, while his hands slide up your dress, clawing at your thighs until they spread enough for him to fit between them, when you first notice the blinking red light.
"Steven, gorgeous, how long have you had a camera in your bedroom?" Instantly he's mortified, apologising and tripping over his own feet as he launches off the bed, practically crawling across his bedroom floor to turn off the device,
"I'm so sorry love, I didn't realise you were coming, and it's to help with my sleep walking, and I swear I always put it away whenever you're here, I'd never violate your privacy like that." He's struggling to take in breaths as each sentence catches in his throat, tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he watches you pull down your skirt and hop off the edge of his bed, picking him up off the floor and bringing your hands to softly cup his face.
"It's okay, I believe you. I trust you Steven, I was just surprised is all." Your gentle words slow his heart back to a steady pace, the tender press of your lips to his enough to reassure him that this isn't the breaking point he always assumes is right around the corner. Each kiss is quickly followed by another, Steven completely entranced by you, enough so that he doesn't notice as you press the record button again, throwing the camera a showy wink as you lead him back to bed again.
- It's not until a few days later, texting Steven from a hotel during a weekend away that you let him know about your little tape. He's desperately fighting the urge to plead over text for you to come home early, settling for telling you just how terribly he misses you, three little words hanging on the tip of his tongue, not quite bold enough to let them loose yet. You echo his longing sentiment, telling him just how much you miss the feel of his hands on your skin, his touch on every part of you, and tell him maybe he should check his camera before he takes himself to bed.
- He's sceptical as he takes his camcorder off his stand, flipping the little screen to face him and scrolling through the hours of footage until he recognises the night he last had you over. He has to cover his eyes with embarrassment as he watches himself tumble out of bed to stop the recording, but his eyes dart wide open when he watches you turn it straight back on, the playful look in your eye immediately flushing all his blood down his body.
- He realises he's holding his breath in his attempt to hear every single sound you make as the two of you step across the screen and climb back on to the bed he's now propped up in alone. He knows it was your decision, but he still feels voyeuristic and dirty as he watches your dress slide down your body on the screen, his free hand slipping into his pyjama bottoms as his on screen counterpart slides his hands over your chest, earning a happy moan that has him hardening at the first touch.
- His mouth hangs open and he watches intently as he settles between your legs, turning up the volume as high as he can as you start to pant and moan at the feel of his tongue exploring your centre. His hand has picked up its pace now, chest heaving as he watches your back arch off the bed, nipples hard in the cold night air.
- He almost loses it the first time he notices you smile right into the camera as you moan out his name, a private performance just for him that makes his heart throb almost as hard as the manhood he's now furiously rubbing. He can feel him cross the point of no return as he watched himself plunge deep inside you, your legs wrapping tightly around his hips leaving no room between your two bodies, his lips desperately chasing yours. His screen self lasts longer than lonely Steven does, spilling across the empty bed as you let out the needy high pitched whine you do every time he pulls out of you to change positions. He sits there, dick pulsing in his hand as he watches your ass bounce as he slams his hips against yours, finally both spent and collapsing alongside you.
- Feeling utterly beat he almost puts the camera away, until he notices you creep out of the bed towards the bathroom, stopping in front of the focused lens to mouth three little words to him before stopping the video. If the sensitive soul hadn't already been in bed, he would have immediately collapsed to the floor. Frantically he picks his phone back up, impatiently waiting through the rings until he can finally tell you that he loves you too.
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jake-g-lockley · 1 year
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Only for You (Steven Grant x reader)
Masterlist | Playlist
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Warnings: MDNI, Smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, popping someone’s cherry, dirty language, swearing.
Word count: 3.8k worth of filth and fluff, yay
A/N: I wanna lay on his chest fr (also his fucking hands just-) I’m fucking sorry but I just realized that I have never written Steven Grant smut, holy shit. Here it is, soft, first-time sex with Steven <3
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “Don’t laugh Steven! I'm not scared of sex, I’m just saying that there are other things that I want in a relationship too.” you pout, elbowing Steven square in the stomach.
“It's not like I know how good sex is anyway.” You grumble as Steven chuckled.
You and Steven were curled up on the couch, a forgotten movie playing softly on your laptop. Your head was settled comfortably on his chest, a fluffy blanket over the both of you. If anyone had walked into Steven’s flat then, they would see the picture of your perfect version of a couple.
Except, well, you and Steven weren’t together.
You and him had been watching a movie when a particularly sexy scene came about and you moved to bury your face into Steven’s chest in embarrassment. Part of you had just wanted to stay there, all warm and comfortable but Steven had started to laugh, and is now prodding you slightly about your abstinence from the act of fornication.
He also had been nagging you about how you ditched your Tinder date to instead come to Steven’s flat bearing gifts of wine and chocolates.
“What are the other things you’d want then?” your best friend pushed on, sitting up slightly to close the laptop and place it on the coffee table before gazing down at you.
You shrunk slightly under his gaze, suddenly feeling shy.
Despite being the sweetest human being on the planet, sometimes when he was really into a conversation, Steven would have a sparkle in his eyes that made you feel slightly intoxicated. The first time that happened, you were surprised with the way your body reacted to him, in a fluid way, as if it was totally in tune with the nature that he had presented to you.
Forget sex. You had never been in a romantic relationship. In fact, Steven’s probably the first person in this big blue world who has been this close to you. You cherished him and held him oh so close to your heart, but that made you fall so incredibly hard for him.
But Steven was older, more mature and probably had more experience than you could ever uncover. Why would he want someone as inexperienced and young as you?
Instead you choose to avoid his eyes, staring at your hands that fisted the fluffy blanket.
“You’d think it's stupid.” you mumbled.
“Now, love, I never in a million years would think that. Come on, let's hear it then.” he urged, his hand finding yours for comfort.
You hold his hand in both of yours by his fingers, his hand comically bigger than yours. The weight of his hand in yours was reassuring and safe. You found yourself tracing his life line as you stared into space.
“I’d want them to dance with me in the rain even if both of us have two left feet. I’d want to go on long walks with them and talk about the stupidest things in the world. I’d want to hold their hand and run errands. I’d want them to sing me soft, made up songs, or read me poetry. I’d want them to make me smile even during my darkest days. I’d want them to just hold me in their arms and whisper sweet fluffy things. I’d want them to be my safe place, my comfort person. I’d want someone who can heal me, Steven.” your voice breaking a little when you got to the end of your list.
The both of you sat in silence for a while. You turned your focus entirely to the beat of Steven’s heart and the way his body was pressed to yours. You continued to toy with his fingers, brushing your thumb over a small scar over and over. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want him to fulfill all that you had just said.
“Is that too much to ask for, or am I going to end up being an eternal virgin, eternally alone?” you laughed a little as you said it.
“Would you like me to try?” Steven whispered suddenly, the words spilling out of him in one breath.
At that very moment, you froze. You felt as if the world ceased to exist at the sound of his words.
Steven took a deep breath before continuing.
“You have already given me the opportunity to know you, in the best way possible, as your best friend. Darling, I’ll let you step on my feet while we dance in the rain. I’ll be your book of stupid facts while we walk around London aimlessly. I’ll never let go of your hand and I’ll sing you songs of my love for you and read you poetry about your pure beauty. I’ll make sure that beautiful smile doesn’t leave your face and I’m not a doctor, but I swear to you, on my life, that I’ll do my best to heal you.” He says as his free hand lightly runs up and down your arm.
“And I hate to be so frank, but I’m already holding you in my arms and I’m trying my best to whisper sweet things to you. Besides, if you didn’t feel safe, I doubt you’d still be slotted next to me holding my hand in yours.” He simply stated, as if he was proving a point.
You didn’t realize you were breathing rapidly until your eyes caught the movement of your chest. You licked your lips, attempting to say something back to Steven.
“Fuck.” was all that you managed instead.
“I could do that very well too if you like.” Steven said without missing a beat.
“YOU COCKY BASTARD!” You wriggled away from him and laughed, sitting up slightly to watch as a smile bloomed on his rosy face.
“You’d do that for me?” you whispered, the second the laughter died down.
“I’ll do anything for you, only for you.” He reassured as his eyes searched yours, bringing a hand up to cup your face. “I want to be the constant in your life, so, my darling, would you like me to try?”
“Yes, please.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, before feeling yourself pulled close to him.
Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring into dark orbs that you had constantly found yourself lost in on a daily basis.
“Can I kiss you and show you how hard I’ll try then?” Steven whispered, his eyes drowning you in his own sanctuary.
“Yes, Steven.” was the last thing you heard yourself say before you lost yourself in him.
Steven’s lips were soft and forgiving against yours as your mind scrambled to comprehend that you were having your first kiss. Your hand shook as you tried to find purchase, settling to grab Steven’s t-shirt. His nose slotted perfectly against yours and you could smell his aftershave and feel his stubble against your skin.
You could tell Steven was trying hard to take it slow but as you straddle his lap, he brought his hand to your hip to push you further into him. The friction made you gasp, allowing Steven to lick into your mouth, creating a symphony of sounds from the both of you.
The both of you stopped for air, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from him, choosing to breathe the air that he heavily breathed out.
“How was that?” Steven asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.
“For my first? I couldn’t have asked for more.” you hissed slightly as Steven still kept an iron grip on your hip to push you against him, feeling the dynamic shift between the two of you.
You kissed Steven with all your last might and you could hear and feel a deep groan erupt from him as you pressed yourself against him, the wine you had edging you on. He kissed you back with equal fervor, as if he couldn’t get enough of you by the second. You ran your hands through his curls tugging them slightly causing him to whimper. You pressed yourself down on him, hard, realizing that you relished in the sound he made when you tugged on his hair. You could feel him, hard against you and a part of you felt absolutely victorious but the other part that was unsure slowly started to win over.
“I’ve never done this before, Steven.” you whisper as Steven moans, and you could tell that he was holding back from rutting his hips against you.
“That’s alright, love. Do you want to stop?” Steven says with a worried tone in his voice.
You gazed at Steven, at the state that you had put him in. His curls were astray and his lips were parted. Lust had blown his pupils wide open and you swear you could see a galaxy in them from your vantage point.
“No, I don’t want to stop. Not with you. Could you show me?” you plead.
“Let's take things slow,” Steven soothed you, slowly lifting you off him and laying you on your back. “I’m going to eat you out, love, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stop me if it gets too much for you.” he said while his large fingers hooked the waistband of the sweats that you stole from him.
Your face burned furiously at his words, not expecting the forwardness. You wanted to cross your legs and pull away but this was Steven. Your Steven. He would keep you safe.
“I promise.” You whispered back, your heart thumping in your chest.
Steven kissed your inner thigh, pushing your thighs apart to reveal your clothed cunt as you propped yourself onto your elbows to watch him make a mess of you. Your legs hung limp on either side of him, and you felt like a rag doll, absolutely powerless.
He started lightly marking your inner thighs, his tongue soothing out the evidence of his ministrations everytime your moans got a little too out of control. You swirl your hips, not content that your cunt wasn’t getting what it had been initially promised. Feeling a little bolder, your hands flew to his curls as you tried to direct him to what you really needed.
You felt yourself go dizzy as Steven’s fingers suddenly pushed your panties to the side, feeling your already dripping slit.
“Gods, you’re already so wet for me, darling. Such a shame that no one else will get to see how pretty this pussy is now that it's mine.” he mumbled as he trained his eyes to your core.
Blood rushed simultaneously to your face and clit, making you cry out loud at Steven’s lewd commentary.
“Steven, I-” you try saying but you choke on your words as he catches you off guard by pushing a digit into you, pumping it in and out at a slow pace, a vulgar squelching sound reaching your ears. He curls the finger without a hint of sorrow, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs turn into pure jelly, enlisting a shaky moan from you.
“You feel so soft, my love.” he says almost darkly, taking the finger out of you and inserting it into his mouth, eyes not leaving yours and your eyes widen, taking in every square inch of what you were seeing in front of you.
He lowers his head to you until his nose brushes harshly against your clit, sending a shock through your body. Your back arches back as you bring his face closer to you by his hair. Steven didn’t seem to be bothered by the way you were literally suffocating him, instead he lapped a broad stroke along your slit, tasting your juices straight from its source. Your knee jerk reaction to the pleasure you were having was to clamp your thighs together, but Steven was faster than you, holding your thighs open with light pressure, as he pushed his tongue inside you. You felt like you were drowning in a pool of delight as Steven continued to absolutely devour you.
“So much for going slow, Mr. Grant.” You thought as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
You loved it. Nothing you’ve tried on yourself has felt anything like this. You could tell Steven was studying the pattern of your pleasure, choosing to change tactics when your moans were more hollow and sticking to what he was doing when you wailed and pushed yourself against him. His name rolled off your tongue like a prayer more than a plea and Steven relished the way you spoke it under the change of circumstance.
“Bloody hell, baby, keep saying my name like that. Make everyone know that I’m yours.” Steven groaned into your core as he paused for a breath.
Without meeting much resistance, he pushes two thick fingers into you, covering your clit with his mouth and starts to pump at a steady pace. You brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure, only for the hand to be pulled back down by Steven. The steady stimulation of his tongue instantly pushes you up and over your breaking point. You felt yourself clench around his fingers as his tongue runs soothing circles around your clit.
“Gods, I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You like that, angel? Trust me, you’re going to like my cock more.” he says, directing his filthy words into your cunt.
You came with his name echoing in your screams, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Steven helped you to ride out your high. After cleaning out the remnants of the first orgasm that he gave you with his tongue, Steven kissed your thighs softly as you bathed in its afterglow. Your eyes focused on his face, a shy smile encapsulating his wet lips as a soft shade of pink danced over his cheeks and nose.
“That was amazing, Steven. Thank you.” You stretched your arms out for him and he obliged, letting you grab him by the t-shirt and pull him down for a kiss as you wrapped your legs around his torso.
You pulled him further down with your legs so that his body was flush to you, only to have his clothed bulge grind into your sensitive clit making you gasp.
“Shit! Sorry, love!” Steven groaned as he tried to pull himself off you.
You were having none of it. You kept him down and grinded upwards, grinning at the look that passed his face.
“Are you sure, darling? I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed.” he breathed as you ducked your head into the crook of his neck to kiss him.
He smelled like sandalwood and papyrus, twisting your brain with a desire you never knew you had in you.
“I know you’ll be gentle, I can take it.” you said clearly, wanting him to realize that you wanted to see and feel his pleasure too.
Steven searched your eyes only to have you stare back, full of silent determination, before cradling you close to him and lifting you up as he stood from the couch, as if you weighed like a sack of potatoes. Steven’s strength never failed to surprise you. You remembered the time he helped you move into your new apartment, how he lifted several heavy boxes at once without breaking a sweat.
He settled you down on his bed softly, and you knew from that moment on that he was dead set on being gentle with you. He smoothed your hair on the pillow and kissed your forehead before sitting down beside you.
“Can I take your top off, darling?” he asked, his large palm kneading your hip as you smiled up at him.
“Yes, please, bra too.” you said as Steven raised his eyebrows at your shy demand.
He did as he was told and wasted no time in absolutely worshiping you.
“You’re fucking beautiful. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Steven groaned, letting his hands roam your bare body as his eyes sparkled like a teenage boy.
His mouth and tongue traced patterns on your skin that made you start whimpering. You could feel your arousal grow between your legs again as Steven captured one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked softly, releasing them with a pop, only to knead at your breast with his large hands.
“Need you inside me.” you breathed as he sucked soft hickeys onto your skin, hickeys that only he could have an access to.
He moaned at your words and looked at you with hooded eyes, before proceeding to take off his clothes one by one. Your eyes widened as Steven pulled his boxers off and grabbed a hold of his length. You’ve obviously watched porn before and you’ve never seen a more beautiful cock in your life. He looked absolutely perfect to you, soft trimmed curls boarding the hilt of his long and girthy length with a pink head that was leaking pre-cum.
Your breathing quickened as you watched him pump himself a few times before rolling a condom on. Kneeling in front of you, he grabbed the bottle of lube from his bedside and coated his palm before stroking himself again.
“Steven, you’re a god.” you heard yourself saying as you scanned his body that was literally sculpted to perfection.
“Fuck, Y/N, don’t say that, I’m not gonna fucking last with your words.” He says as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, catching your clit and making you throw your head back against the pillow.
“In, now.” you punctuated as Steven tried to take his time with you.
With the help of the lube and your slick, Steven slid inside of you with relative ease, shocking you and himself with how fast he bottomed out. There was a sharp pain as Steven stretched you out, followed by the sweet sensation of pleasure that made you whimper with ecstasy. You had never felt this full in your life and Steven’s cock was pressing deliciously in all of the spots you had never thought you had. His hands held you down with bruising strength, allowing you to adjust to his length, and only started moving when you started to grind your hips impatiently.
He showered you with praises as he moved with slow fluid movement, his hand inching towards you for you to grab onto. Instead of lacing your fingers together with him, Steven pulled your hand towards him and pressed it gently at the lower part of your belly. You moaned at the feeling of his cock inside of you, the tip bulging through your skin. He pressed down slightly harder, getting off at the feeling of your hand massaging his cock from the outside.
“Steven, you’re too good to me. Feels so good.” you slur as he pushed on slightly harder and deeper.
Tears started to flow from your eyes as your free hand gripped at Steven’s biceps, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin as he started to speed up his thrusts. His hand on your belly leaves yours, only for his fingertips to end up on your clit, the action causing you to shake. From the extra stimulation and the way his cock speared you, your second release came faster than your first, blinding you yet again with its powerful waves.
You could feel Steven’s movements start to stutter the second you came, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his release. He folded his body over yours and with a few more solid thrusts to your cunt, he groaned into your neck as he spilled thick ropes of cum into the condom.
It took the both of you a few minutes of heavy breathing to gather your thoughts. Steven came to his senses first, slowly pulling himself out of you before taking off the condom and discarding it. He then slowly stroked your hair as your breathing became more labored before taking a bottle of geranium oil from his bedside and dripping it all over your spent body.
You smiled at Steven as he massaged the fragrant oil into your skin. He focused on the points of your body that were sure to be sore tomorrow and silently pressed out all of the tension you had in you. Your body felt warm and you had a buzz running through you as if you had just ran a marathon. He massaged a silent thanks into you with every squeeze of his hand and you just laid there and stared at the man before you, wondering what kind of miracle had allowed you to get to this point. You looked past him and squinted into his apartment, giggling slightly at where your underwear had ended up.
“Hmm, am I really that funny, baby?” Steven said before following your line of sight and gasping at the sight of your underwear draped ungracefully over Gus’s fish tank.
“Oops, sorry Gus, mate.” He said sheepishly, his face turning red. “It's alright, darling, he won’t remember it.”
Steven flipped you over gently and started massaging your back, pulling small hisses and moans out of you. He kneads your lower back with his knuckles, providing you with stronger precision that knocks the wind out of your lungs with pleasure as you sink further into the mattress. He skims over the globes of your ass, making you giggle again. Flipping you onto your back, Steven pulls you into his lap as he settles himself against the headboard, covering the both of you up with a blanket to provide you with some privacy. You cuddle close to him, feeling safe in the small cocoon that he had created.
“Do you always end … it with a massage?” you asked suddenly, the question creeping up into your fluffy thoughts.
“No, actually.” Steven says, sitting up a little. “This was the first. I remember how you would say that massages were your favourites and that you would get a weekly massage if you had some disposable income.”
You blink up at him, realizing that he had been listening to you all along. Your heart swelled with the awareness that you had found your perfect man way before you had even comprehended it.
“Thank you, Steven. I love you.” you say before you could stop yourself as an unknown emotion settled upon Steven’s face.
Horror pulsed through you, your cock-dumb brain still too foggy for you to think anything coherent.
“Shit, sorry, I mean we only just had sex a few minutes ago. This is so uncool-” you stutter before Steven places a finger to your lips.
“I love you too, Y/N.” Steven says, genuinely as a chuckle reverberates through him and into your heart.
You calmed down immediately with his confession, your face blazing as you kissed him, finally feeling at ease with everything around you.
“Told you I can fuck really well.”
“FUCK OFF, STEVEN!”
Tagging: @romanarose @mintpurplemnm
Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*
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vintagemulti · 4 months
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shards and splinters
parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader
desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.
warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx
a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x
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the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.
he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.
there was nothing you could have done, marc.
“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”
steven sighed, and went quiet.
“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”
marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.
he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.
steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.
are you going to wallow here forever?
marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.
“fuck off.”
khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.
“fuck off.” he repeated.
and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?
“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”
khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?
“no.”
perhaps you should.
marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.
“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”
if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.
and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.
she’s alive?
“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”
his eyes slipped into the back of his head.
steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.
-
“this feels so fucking weird.”
you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.
i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.
you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.
you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.
“where is he?”
it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.
humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.
what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.
harrow was less than two feet away from you.
swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.
but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.
the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.
it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?
apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.
this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.
his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.
you could slither away too, though.
still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.
as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.
we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.
nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.
this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.
perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.
your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.
“what is harrow’s plan?”
he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.
“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.
he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.
you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”
hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.
for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.
why did you marry him?
it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.
“what?”
marc. why did you marry him?
you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.
i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.
“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”
and?
“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”
the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.
“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”
he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?
“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.
he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.
i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”
you regret it?
“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.
oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.
it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”
didn’t it take a while to get used to?
the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.
“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.
he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”
hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.
“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.
i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.
“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.
take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.
you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”
you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?
“no.”
then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.
you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.
“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”
a beat. hathor didn’t reply.
“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”
you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.
“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.
he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”
tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.
“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.
and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”
why did you hate him?
you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.
and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.
he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.
but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.
and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”
hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.
you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.
her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”
hathor shook her head. you are a human being.
there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.
is now a bad time, human?
you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”
what do i want? there’s a long list.
even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”
hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.
the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.
i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.
just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.
your heart stopped.
marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…
“y/n!”
just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.
“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.
you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.
he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.
marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.
“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”
“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”
he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.
“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”
barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.
it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.
but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.
if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.
“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.
“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”
he blinked. a beat.
“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”
“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”
steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”
he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.
“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”
-
you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.
but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.
you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.
but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.
it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.
the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.
he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.
‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.
it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;
it wasn’t you.
well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.
you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.
trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.
and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.
so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.
what a lovely shopping list, you thought.
-
it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.
with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.
the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.
of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.
no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.
a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.
the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.
“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”
beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.
oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?
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character-babblings · 1 month
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mdni 18+ only
everyday i wake up
(this is a oscar isaac character home)
welcome to my moonknight headcanons (also, yes i'm always down to elaborate or discuss)
Steven Grant, my sweet boy:
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steven is actually working on skills in the bedroom. he's 100% branching out thanks to you. he's an eager and ready to learn student.
he's not entirely inexperienced but he's just so deeply obsessed with you. the way your clothes just always looks so good on your. hugging your curves and always bringing out your eyes. he may be biased but he thinks you're easily the most perfect woman in the whole world.
and the way you moan for him is just as perfect of course. steven 100% prefers to be face to face with you when it comes to sex. he has to see your face when he does anything.
and he's obsessed with how vocal you can get. when he's eating you out (honestly his favorite most of the time). the way your hands play with his hair as he'll lick and lap at your pretty clit.
"oh good steven. you're so good. such a good boy." and he's like putty. you cannot tell me that this man doesn't have a praise kink. bless his heart. he just wants to make you so happy. the way he flicks your clit with his tongue with hooded eyes because he's lowkey playing with himself with one hand while one dances at your entrance.
"steven. i need your fingers. please?" and he's just ready to please as he plunges his fingers in you. hair starting to become wet with sweat as an idea bubbles in his head. inserting two fingers into before removing his mouth.
"you have the prettiest cunt, love. it's so delicious and warm. i can't wait to put my dick in here." he tries. and he damn near cums his pants watching your eyes roll as you let out the most earth shattering moan. his eyes widen as he abandons your pussy all together. he didn't expect that.
"oh? do you like it when i talk like this? that's awfully naughty of you darling..." you're beginning to squirm as you wrap your legs around his torso. "steven just fuck me now please! you whine as you reach to take hold of his face to kiss him. and with that he's back to being a whiney mess at your words.
"fuck alright love."
Marc Spector: Resident dom (fight me. fight me rn)
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absolutely dom. only a handful of times have you ever had any control. and that's fine because he 100% knows what he's doing obviously. he's gifted in the eating and bossing department.
he's got you on your knees in front of him just ramming the fuck out of your face and relishing in the gurgles and choking sounds your mouth is making. one hand in your hair and the other on the back of your head.
"oh what a good girl you are. good fucking girl. hey, relax your throat more. there you go little slut. swallow around my dick." he's tapping the side of your face before pulling your face off his dick. "you alright sweet girl?" he asked as he checks your face. he's revels in how ruined your makeup is as you nod at him, you're the one eager to please him now. he smiles almost darkly at you before grabbing you by your neck.
"good. because i didn't forget what a fucking brat you were today." he states as he drags you over to the bed, pushing you on it. "you have five seconds to strip. whatever's left on is getting ripped." he sighs taking his pants off. "you know i love you, but the way you acted today...i should have bent you over right there." he states as you assume the face down ass up position. reaching over to grab your face before
"remember i don't like brats. that shit may fly with Steven but never me. and i know Jake doesn't tolerate it either. so do me a favor. act like your brain actually fucking works." he warns as he lets go of your face. sitting up fully before beginning to pound your shit.
"let me enjoy this, don't make a sound. you make a sound and that's one more orgasm i'm giving you."
Jack Lockley: Hard dom.
(thank god this dude got minimal screentime bc idk how to act)
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as aforementioned he's got a 0 brat tolerance. absolutely don't give this man attitude. he won't hesitate to smack your mouth a little or grab you by your face harshly before whispering to behave with a stone hard face.
he also will never hesitate to find a secluded area to fuck you hard in. he's fucked you against the window of both yours and his place for sure. no balcony is safe honestly. he loves to leave so many marks for the other two guys to find. he also has a safe word because when i say he gets rough i mean it.
he's choked you so hard he's made you pass out a hand full of times. then he'll patiently wait for you to wake up before continuing on while you whine and complain wondering why he stopped. muttering about how you're such a whore who only thinks about his dick.
he's giving your face a smack when he detects a little attitude. talking about "what was that? did you wanna say something little girl?!" and making you repeat yourself.
"your brain is fucking gone huh pretty girl? is that why you're talking to me like this?! i know i've fucked you out but talk to me like that again and i promise you that you can watch while i take care of myself." he literally growls as he grabs your hair and brings your head up so his hot breath hits your ear.
"because next time, i won't be nice and let you cum for the rest of the week." he says while releasing you.
(a/n please tell me this is a safe place for my moonlight slut thoughts please please please)
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jakelcckley · 2 years
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Steven every time someone calls him with a wrong name:
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4K notes · View notes
refiwrites · 2 years
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WAIT HOLD ON
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THERE'S TWO NEW FISHES WITH TWO FINS AS WELL
SO, LIKE,, DID JAKE BOUGHT BOTH MARC AND STEVEN A FISH? 😭
and oh my god I wonder if Jake took control one time then just found the fish floating, not making any movement and jake just
face palms
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BUT THEN IMAGINE JAKE GOING TO THE PET SHOP DEMANDING TWO FISHES WITH TWO FINS HELP—
Jake: Look, lady. D'you have those goldfish with two fins? A pair of them? I need em quick.
The woman in the pet shop confused as fuck cause hadn't he just been here two times a week ago????: No? Sir, you've been here before demanding I give you a fish with one fin, now you want two with two fins?
Jake: Oh, well, yeah I want two. Just a little peace offering s'all.
CURRENTLY DYING RN
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multific · 1 year
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A Man With Love
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Marc Spector/Jake Lockely/Steven Grant x Reader
Summary: You had to learn a lot, having two boyfriends, and one day you learned about a third.
When Steven told you about the other person inside his body, you thought it was a very weird way of telling someone 'It's not you, it's me' when breaking up with them.
But to your surprise, it wasn't a break up.
He just wanted you to meet Marc Spector.
It took a lot for you to fully wrap your head around what was happening, to fully understand his personality disorder and the reasoning behind it.
It broke your heart, yes, but you also understood.
With the help of the internet, you even managed to do your research to understand better.
You learned about triggers.
What to say and what not to say to either Marc or Steven.
But then, one day, someone else got triggered to the front.
You were on a date with Marc, having dinner in a nice cosy restaurant then on your way home you stopped at a small convenience store to grab some things before heading home.
You were in the snack aisle when a loud bang as if something exploded came from the front. 
Men came barging into the store, you saw them as you leaned over and one of them noticed you.
Marc was in hiding.
"Get on the floor bitch!" you lifted your hands, but froze in terror at the gun pointed at you. "Are you deaf?! Get on the floor." the man took another step when Marc lounged forward, knocking the man out and the gun out of his hands. The man groaned in pain and you quickly dodged behind the shelves, kneeling onto the floor before letting your boyfriend take care of everything.
You knew he used to be a mercenary, so you didn't doubt his skills.
It still didn't stop your ears from ringing, you couldn't hear anything from your loud heartbeats.
You failed to notice your boyfriend in front of you. When you finally started to come back to your senses, you were home, sitting in Steven's favourite armchair with your boyfriend kneeling in front of you as he softly spoke. 
You blinked a couple times before you started to hear what he was saying.
"We shouldn't have gone to that store, Chiquita. We should have just got you home. Lo siento, Mi amor." he placed a kiss on your hands and you were confused. You grabbed his chin and made him look into your eyes. "Lo siento, Chiquita." he said once more.
"You are not Marc." he shook his head. "Not Steven." another shake. "Who are you then?"
"I'm the one who does the dirty work, the one who does what the others can't, the one who saved you tonight."
"What's your name? Or should I call you Zorro?" you tried to joke.
"No, Mi amor. Jake Lockley, the one hiding in the dark. You must not mention me to Marc or Steven, they don't know about me. But I needed to save you, Chiquita."
Your eyes searched his. You did recall Marc mentioning blacking out as did Steven, they were sure the other was blocking them, but this made more sense. 
"Have I met you before?"
"Once or twice. I came home once, you thought I was Marc, you insisted I take a bath while you made dinner. You fell asleep by the time I got out of the shower. Another time, you thought I was Steven, gave me a hug while I slept, kissed my back and fell asleep on me. Mi vida, I mean no harm to you or your relationship with the others. I merely watch through their eyes, that sounds wrong...I... I care for you, Mi vida."
"You saved me, thank you." he nodded and kissed your hand, you moved the other to his cheek. "You are so different, I can feel it, you are dangerous, mysterious and so fucking sexy."
"That might be the adrenaline, you never had a gun pointed at you before."
"No." your hand moved from his cheek to neck, to the necklace he wore with the star of David. Your eyes were looking at him as if you have never seen him before. Like he was the meal and you were the lion. "You are so different from them. Steven's sweet, Marc's serious and you, you are dangerous. Something in me tells me to run while my other half wants to just tear the shirt off of you."
"That might be lust. Chiquita."
"And you speak Spanish, you devil." Jake watched as your eyes darkened. He would be a liar to say that he wouldn't want you. He would be a liar if he said he never watched any of the other two have their way with you. He would be a liar if he said he wasn't thinking about the ways he would make you moan and groan. But he couldn't.
"I'll give the body back to Marc."
"Leaving so soon?"
"You will see me again, I promise."
"Say it in Spanish."
"Te prometo, Mi amor." and you nodded before you watched the change in his eyes.
"Marc, as I said, I'm fine, you saved me." you said with a smile as Marc tried to collect himself. He didn't remember saving you, he blamed his training.
"Love, are you really okay?"
"As I said, yes. Thank you."
You will keep Jake's secret as long as he wants you to. After all, you couldn't help but fall in love with all of them all over again.
Steven hugged you close. But both him and Marc was very suspicious as neither remembered anything of the incident. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ 
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
              DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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princessofmarvel · 2 years
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Cara Mia
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Summary | You and Marc are invited to a Halloween party by Layla, and before you can get out the door, Jake just has to have a moment with you in your costume. 
 Pairing | Marc Spector x fem!reader/Jake Lockley x fem!reader, And A mention of Steven Grant x fem!reader lol. 
Genre | Fluff! 
 Word Count | 753
Warnings! | Allusions To Smut!, Marc Spector, Inaccurate DID, Some Google Translate Spanish , And, Not Really Proofread! Lol . 
Author's Note! | I rewatched the Addams family and I could just not stop thinking of this! Lmao, If you are not familiar "Cara Mia" Is A Term Of Endearment That Gonez Addams Uses For Morticia Addams! And As Always I Also Have Severe OCD So If There Are Random Cap’s Where There Normally Would Not Be, I’m So Sorry, And That Is Why! But, I Think That I Did Pretty Well This Time! Lol .
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  You and Marc had been invited to a Halloween party by Layla.  He begged you to not go. He would rather order take out and watch Halloween movies with you on the couch all night instead of going to a party, because at a party, he would more than likely have to socialize. But, you wanted to go, and for you, he would do anything. 
He looked at himself in the mirror and thought that he looked absolutely ridiculous. He had been growing and keeping up this pencil stache for about 2 weeks now. Jake seemed to think that they looked good with it, Marc and Steven, not so much. 
He put on the suit and walked out of the bathroom to get the cigar. But, he was quickly stopped in his tracks when he saw you looking in the mirror dressed as one Morticia Addams. 
"Marc! What do you think?" You said giving him a quick little spin in your costume. You were very pleased with how it all turned out. Especially with how he looked. 
The words were taken out of Marc's mouth, he was in pure awe of you. The way the dress hugged you in all the right places. The way you had styled your hair. Once Marc had figured out the words to say, the body had been taken over before he could even say them. 
"Cara Mia indeed." Jake said, walking up to you with his arms out and ready to hold you from behind. He was frilled when you told Marc that you wanted to go as Gomez And Morticia Addams for this Halloween Party and had immediately offered to take over the body on that day since it fell on one of Marc's days . Much to his dismay though, Marc refused, claiming that The Invitation was for him and Steven and not Jake. 
“Jake, Sweetheart, you know that it’s Marcs night.” You said to him while smiling. One of yours and Jake's favorite things to do together was to watch “The Addams Family''.  It started with having to pick a movie one night to watch together while you ate your dinner.  Jake had been the one to suggest it.  It turned into watching the movies so many times that you could quote them, to having the 1960s show on while you did random things during the day such as cleaning. The two of you just bonded over it. 
“Mi Amor, Do you truly expect me to stay away, and let Marc have you all to himself when you are dressed like this?” He asked while he was staring at you through the mirror. He could feel Marc trying to take over the body again, but Jake was just not gonna let that happen right now.  He couldn’t help himself. 
“I will give the body back in a moment, cariño. I just need a moment with you in this dress, I mean, I think that poor little Steven might have fainted.” He said, causing you to turn around in a panic. 
“What do you mean? Is he alright?” You asked with worry written all over your face. 
“He’s fine, Querida. Just in awe of how absolutely beautiful you are.” He said leaning in to kiss you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Every time Jake kissed you he always took your breath away. He always kissed you with so much passion that it almost hurt when it ended. 
“I will give the body back to Marc, but only if you promise to put this outfit back on for me, okay?” He said while putting a hand on your face to graze his thumb over your cheekbone while you nodded. 
The next thing you know, Marc is back and moving his hands to your waist. “I ought to find a way to kill Jake for taking me away from you when you look like this.” He said, Causing you to laugh. “You look absolutely stunning.” 
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Marc.” You said while adjusting his tie. “Are you sure that you don’t want to keep the stache?” 
“Oh, you like it that much?” He said, smiling and pulling you closer. 
“Maybe.” You told him in a sing-song voice. “It suits you.” 
“Well, I’ll keep it long enough for you to have your fun with it, Cara Mia.” And with that, you knew you were going to be dragged out of that Halloween party as soon as possible and in for a long night. 
1K notes · View notes
bitchyglitterfox · 1 year
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Moon Knight System as College Professors headcannons 😜
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Warnings: fluffy, in which they boys don't work for Konshu anymore and became professors. No use of y/n, gendered language
For the wonderful @toracainz happy birthday ❤️
...
Steven
Egyptian Mythology Professor!!
Super sweet
Puts all his PowerPoints online so you don't miss a thing
Blushes whenever his students flirt with him
His classes always fill quickly because he's that good of a professor
You have to try hard to fail his class but why would you want too?
If you get less than a stellar grade he writes how you can improve for next time
Marc
Self Defense Professor
Playful but serious when he needs to be
Everyone loves this class because he looks shirtless and sweaty
Properly teaches you how to fight
Lots of people came for his looks but stayed for the techniques
He's tough but fair
Will always ask before touching you to fix your posture or hand work
Instructs you that your hands are a deadly weapon and should only be used for self defense
Jake
Mechanics professor and I'll tell you why
He's always working on his cab when it breaks down, he knows his way around cars.
Doesn't have many women in his classes, but when he does his heart grows a bit, he thinks for women should be in the field.
He brings old classic cars in for the class to work on and restore every semester.
Sometimes on rare occasions, non-mechanical engineering students take his classes
Since he's fluent in Spanish he tutors the Spanish students on the side
All the students swoon at his accent
414 notes · View notes
mrs-lockley · 3 months
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Reach for the Moon | I. The Breaking
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PAIRINGS: (Slow Burn, Romantic) Jake Lockley x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, (Platonic) Steven Grant x Southeast Asian!Fem Reader, (Unrequited) Marc Spector x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, no physical description of the reader
WARNINGS: Unrequited love (Reader is in love with Marc, Marc is oblivious but means well), first love and heartbreak, Reader knows limited Spanish, italics in dialogue indicates Reader and her parents speaking a foreign language (unspecified), mentions of divorce and a brief mention of the military 
WORD COUNT: 7.5k
SERIES SUMMARY: Inspired by the 1954 film & 1995 remake of Sabrina, No Moon Knight AU. 
To heal your broken heart from your unrequited crush on Marc Spector, your family sends you to Singapore to help establish your cousin’s bakery. You return to New York two years later as a more confident woman, but you find yourself picking up the pieces of your broken heart (again) after seeing Marc still holding onto his first love. Sensing the pain and heartbreak between you and Marc, Jake steps in as a white knight to create distance to help both of you heal, but he was never supposed to fall in love with you. 
Author's Note: Many thanks to @soft-girl-musings, @v4mpires0ap, @callingmrsbarnes for supporting me with this fic. It's been a long time coming 🤍 Special thanks to @flightlessangelwings for your guidance and advice on making writing more inclusive! Today is my birthday, and I wanted to share this to my dear friends who never gave up on me when I gave up on writing.
Tagging (but no pressure to read!): @writefightandflightclub @venting402 @musing-magpie @themarcusmoreno
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THE BREAKING
You remembered your last night in New York— it was near the end of summer when you were set to leave to help your cousin establish her bakery in Singapore. While your friends and family were excited for your new adventure abroad, you had run away, letting your feet guide you to an all too familiar apartment building before you collapsed on the steps. Your heart was filled with dread, splintering into two like an old tree bending to the howling winds of sorrow and heartbreak. 
How foolish you were, you thought to yourself as you sobbed on the steps, your face buried in your hands as the tears continued to pour out of you. Your heart held no contempt for your cousin or the beautiful country of Singapore; you loved your cousin dearly and always wanted to visit her there, but living in Singapore for two years would mean leaving him behind.
Marc Spector, the man you loved for so many years. The man who didn’t even know you existed, the man who didn’t love you back. 
He was beautiful, handsome. Dark brown eyes and curly black hair, strong brows and the whisper of a five o’clock shadow kissing his jaw and cheeks. A smooth voice with a bit of a drawl that you found comforting and uniquely Marc. Broad, wide shoulders and sun-kissed tan skin, it did not take long for you to fall in love with him.
Like scenes from an old film, you replayed your cherished memories of him in your mind. His nose scrunching when laughing at one of your jokes, his proud smile when you showed him your college degree, his gentle lips on your forehead as he comforted you after a rough night. 
As much as you love him, shards of guilt tore through you. Deep down, you knew he was still reeling from his divorce, and that he still harbored feelings for his ex-wife. A few nights after the two of you had too much to drink, Marc would recount the memories he shared with her that were near and dear to his heart. Each time he mentioned her name, daggers were impaled through you. How could you let yourself fall for someone who only saw you as a friend and still had feelings for their first love? 
You had set yourself for heartbreak, and you had no one to blame but yourself as you tried to pick up the pieces and forget your feelings for him. Perhaps living in Singapore for two years would be for the best. You would make yourself forget about him and the distance would ease the pain and remedy the inevitable heartbreak that was soon to follow.
Before you could draft a plan, a pair of dark boots appeared in front of you, followed by the sound of a familiar voice calling your name in concern.
Your heart skipped a beat. 
“What are you doing out here so late? What’s wrong?”
You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your wrists as you hastily wiped your tears, using your sleeves as a makeshift tissue. “I’m fine, Jake. I just got lost in my head, please do not worry about me.”
Your lips quivered and your voice trembled as soon as you spoke, a sob threatening to escape from your throat as another wave of tears pricked the corners of your eyes. How silly of you to fall apart on the steps outside of his apartment building- have you no shame?
To your surprise, a thin cloth was offered to you, pulling you out of your thoughts before you could spiral into self-degradation and pity. Hesitantly, you looked up at him to find his brown eyes softening in empathy. When you didn’t accept the kerchief right away, he gently gestured it towards you again, urging you to take it.
With a quiet thank you, you accepted it, dabbing your eyes and steadying your breathing as you heard him take a seat on the steps beside you.
“Did someone hurt you?”
You shook your head, but kept your gaze fixed on the cloth in your hands. Even though Marc and Jake shared the same face, Jake was different. You couldn’t bear to look at him— one look, and he would see right through you.
Instead of answering him, you observed the scene in front of you. Across the street, two lovers exchanged sweet words and loving promises. Down the sidewalk, children screamed as they chased each other down the block. Cars, buses, and taxis drove by in a blur with only their flickering tail lights indicating their passing presence. You thought back to the nights you spent with Marc, your arm linked with his as he walked you home after you finished your night classes at the university. He would listen as you vented about the assignments your professors piled on you in the middle of midterms and other projects with similar deadlines. 
“We’re proud of you, you know,” Marc said once you finished crossing the street. “Going to school to get your degree. I went straight into the Marines after high school and was discharged after …”
His voice trailed off, but you caught the stony expression on his face and the darkness that clouded his eyes. Your heart began to ache. 
“I’m proud of you, too,” you nudged him lightly. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here. I think that’s something worthy and important to celebrate.”
You grinned as you watched a smile form on his lips. How rare it was to see Marc smile, but how sweet it was to be the reason behind it.
After a moment, you answered him. 
“I’m just sensitive, that’s all.” 
The two of you sat in silence for a minute as you both listened to the bustling sounds of the city. That was the thing about Jake Lockley– his actions spoke louder than words, and him sitting here with you, letting you cry and stain his handkerchief with your eyeliner and mascara was enough to pull you out of your downward spiral. 
“That may be true,” Jake hummed from beside you, “but it’s okay to be sensitive. It means that you care and feel things deeply.”
Perhaps a little too deeply, you mused as you folded his handkerchief. It was your parents’ idea for you to live in the Lion City for two years as a way for you to not only apply what you learned in college to the real world, but to keep you away from Marc. 
“You need to forget about him. Pining after him will do you no good,” your father lectured one evening after Marc dropped you off at home. “He does nothing but bring you heartache.”
“He is a good man, Papa,” you reasoned. 
Your mother sighed as she pulled you onto the couch to sit between her and your father. “We never said he was a bad person, my child. But we don’t want to see you heartbroken over him. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love with someone else.”
Suppose they have a point, you reckoned. All your life, you fantasized about falling hopelessly in love with someone and that they would reciprocate your feelings in return, but life is not as colorful and sweet as the romantic novels you read. 
“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you weren’t supposed to have feelings for?” You asked quietly. 
Jake smiled softly, but you caught the pain in his voice as he spoke. “A long time ago, yes.”
You were not close friends with Jake, not to the same level as you were with Marc and Steven. With Jake, he was more private. Much like the cabbie that he was, it often felt like there was a window between the two of you. He was in the front seat, but you were in the back seat, only seeing rare glimpses of him through the window in between.
His brown eyes fell on yours, and he raised a curious, but amused, eyebrow at you. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, your cheeks growing warm. “I don’t know you as well as I know Marc and Steven, so it’s a little strange for me to picture you as a man who was madly in love. You are always so quiet.”
To your surprise, Jake laughed, and you could not help but laugh along with him as you noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. It was not often you heard him laugh, but it was a delightful sound that you wanted to hear again. 
“You’re a funny girl,” he chuckled, but you were not offended by his words. “But you do have a point. How about this? I’ll promise to show more of myself when you return from Singapore?”
You smiled at him as he extended his gloved hand to you. “I’d like that very much.” 
His smile was kind in return as he shook your hand. Then, he stood, gently helping you up from where you were seated on the dusty steps. 
“It’s getting late, conejita (little bunny), let me drive you home before your parents worry about you.”
You could not help but chuckle at the nickname he had given you as you followed him, barely catching the fond smile on his face as he helped you down the steps. Your tears had dried by then, your heart a little bit lighter while he guided you to his car. 
Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you, making sure you had your seatbelt on before heading to the other side. Inside, everything was uniquely Jake with the smell of leather and his cologne, the seats spacious and free of clutter. As he turned on the engine, the comforting melody of a Spanish love ballad played from the speakers, and you slowly closed your eyes.
The first few nights in Singapore were rough. You were miserable and heartbroken as you absentmindedly helped your aunt, uncle, and cousin clean up the new shop. Concerned as they were, they insisted that you rest, convinced you were exhausted from the jet lag and adjustment to the new time change. Of course, you should have known better that they would contact your parents. Not wanting to keep secrets, they told them about your unrequited crush on “a handsome boy back home,” and that you were heartbroken that he could not tell you goodbye. 
The first few months, you wrote various letters to Steven. From tourist postcards to long handwritten letters, you poured your thoughts, feelings, and emotions into the letters, hoping that your best friend would offer you some solace and healing to your heartache. 
I have never fallen in love so deeply, not even when I was a teenager. Isn’t it childish? My parents were worried, and now my aunt, uncle, and cousin fear I may not be helpful in establishing their bakery because of my “broken heart.” Growing up, I wanted to fall in love like in the movies, but I never expected it to be this painful and tragic. You would think that a smart girl like me would have fallen in love with someone else. Instead, I fell for a man who is still in love with his first love. I might as well be reaching for the moon. 
It would take weeks, sometimes a couple months before your letter would reach him. You would anxiously check the mail each day, hoping for comfort from him. When you finally received his letter, you excused yourself to the kitchen where you sat with your face covered in flour, your apron already painted in various colors from testing different icings as you unfolded his letter. 
You are still young, and you will find love again. The first love is always so painful, but do not fret, love. Have you forgotten? We already built rockets to reach the moon. It is a matter of finding the one that gravity pulls you to. 
You cherished each letter you wrote him. Even in today’s digital age, you and Steven preferred pen, wrinkled papers, and postage stamps. You would collect the most colorful and vibrant postcards to send to Steven so he could add it to his collection, and you could not help but smile when he sent a picture of all your postcards taped to Gus’ fish tank.  It felt a bit old-fashioned to wait months for a letter overseas, but more intimate as you shared stories and memories with each other.
The first few months were a bit painful, but as it turned into a year, your heart did not ache as much as when you left New York. Your cousin’s bakery took off during the first year, and soared to higher heights in the second with lines trailing out the door, but you were quick on your feet to bring out all the delectable treats and desserts that the city loved. One eventful night, your cousin brought you with her college friends to the local bar to celebrate, and you forgot that Marc broke your heart as you both sang to your favorite songs until your lungs ached and your throat ran dry. 
You stumbled into the kitchen that night with your cousin, the two of you giggling as your aunt and uncle merely laughed at how affectionate the two of you were with each other. You quickly ran to your room to pull out a pen, your body filled with warmth as you sat at your bedroom window with your cousin’s cat curled at your feet. 
Oh Steven, I haven’t felt this happy since leaving New York. I just got back from the karaoke bar with my cousin, and although I might be a little tipsy, I’ve learnt so many things here in Singapore. The night is young, but rich with dreams, wishes, and hope as I write underneath a full moon. Come what may, my heart will be open to new possibilities and adventures, for I am not the same person as I was yesterday. And before I forget, don’t tell my parents that I will be coming home a few weeks early; I want to surprise them, and I want to surprise you with how much I have grown. I would like to think I am not the same college girl who left with a broken heart, because I will return as a hopeful young woman who still dares to dream.
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Before you knew it, you were packing your things and ready to return home. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin embraced you tightly with tearful smiles as they dropped you off at the airport, and soon, you were flying through the clouds. Your heart fluttered in excitement at seeing your family and friends again, and for once, you were not too worried about facing him again. You remained hopeful as you reminded yourself of how far you’ve come as you carried your dreams with you. 
But perhaps you spoke too soon. 
You called Steven a few nights before to plan for your arrival. Steven promised that he would pick you up at the JFK airport, but as you made it down the escalator, your heart nearly stopped. Waiting at the bottom was Marc Spector, holding up a sign with your name and a bouquet of flowers. His face is partially hidden by the shadow of his cap, but you could see the growing smile on his face as you approached. 
“I know you were expecting Steven,” he explains as you stop in front of him, “but he remembered he can’t drive, so I offered to step in-”
Your heart swells as you take him in. It has been two years since you saw him last. You did not keep in touch with Marc as closely as you did with Steven, but seeing him hold a sign with flowers for you, you suddenly feel like that college girl again. 
Before he could finish his sentence, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly.
“Thank you for coming for me,” you whisper. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Your heart skips a beat as he returns your embrace. With your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. His arms are as strong as you remembered him, and the scent of his cologne brings you back to those nights he would pick you up after class to walk you home. 
“It’s good to see you. We missed you.”
You ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as he pulls away. He looks down at you, and you could not help but smile at the warmth and softness in his brown eyes.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. You look different.” 
“Different?”
Marc smiles softly. He smoothes a loose strand of your hair, and you pray in that moment that he did not feel the sudden heat rising to your cheeks from the contact.
“A good kind of different,” he answers, “you’re glowing.”
Butterflies flutter in your tummy at his words. It was true- you were a different woman now, and you were not the same college girl with an unrequited crush on her friend. 
But in that moment, it seems all you could think about is his gentle smile. If you weren’t careful enough, you would slowly turn back into that lovesick girl. 
Before you delve too deep into your thoughts, Marc smiles fondly at you again as he hands you the bouquet.
“Let me get your things, and then I can take you home.”
You smile at him as he gathers your belongings. As you follow him out of the terminal, your fingers absentmindedly trace the soft petals of the daffodils. They are a soft white and delicate between your fingertips, and you are already thinking about what vase to use and where to put it in your bedroom once you get home. 
The ride home was quiet, and as much as you wanted to ask him about everything that you missed in the past two years, you were exhausted from your trip. It took some time, but Marc was able to persuade you to sleep, only lightly tapping your shoulder to wake you when he pulled up to your parents’ driveway. It was after dinner when you saw their silhouettes moving across the kitchen, and you could not wait to surprise them with your early arrival. 
And surprised they were. Screams of joy and laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood as your family embraced you with overjoyed tears streaming down their cheeks. Much to your surprise, they were civil with Marc as he and your father helped bring your suitcases in, even offering that he could stay for some coffee before he politely declined. Whether he knew that your parents did not favor him as much compared to Steven, you didn’t know, but you were happy that he brought you home. 
As he walks out the front door, you excuse yourself and call his name as you quickly follow after him. 
“Thank you again for picking me up and taking me home,” you tell him as he turns around. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”
He smiles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. “Anytime, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”
You smile shyly. This wasn’t the first time he brought you home, and it reminded you of the nights he would pick you up or walk you home after class. Just like old times.
Your mind was reeling, your heart soaring as you placed the bouquet of daffodils on your desk. Despite your parent’s disapproval (and much to your dismay, too), all the feelings you thought you moved on from Marc quickly resurfaced after seeing him again. You did your best to not think about him too much while you were in Singapore, but seeing him smile at you and having him take you home, you could feel yourself falling for him all over again. 
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It took a couple weeks to adjust to being back in New York, but it was wonderful to be home. You told your parents everything about your time in Singapore and the success of your cousin’s business. Every now and then, you would call her, your aunt, and uncle to see how popular their bakery became since you left. In the background of your video calls, you would see your uncle tending to a customer in the front, or your aunt reloading a tray of green tea mochi in their display case. You missed the hustle and bustle of Singapore, but you were glad to be in the familiarity of the Big Apple with your friends and family again. 
Steven met with you first after you settled back into your routine. It was a Thursday afternoon as the two of you sat in your living room and exchanged gifts. You beamed at all the stories and anecdotes he shared with you. 
“That’s amazing!” You told him. The two of you were cross-legged on the floor as you poured him another cup of tea. “I just know the kids are going to love having you as a tour guide in the King Tut exhibit at the Smithsonian.”
Your best friend grinned, a soft red dusting his smiling cheeks. “You think so? I start on Monday. I’m so nervous! I don’t want to mess it up or bore them with all the details, but you know how much I love Ancient Egypt.”
“You’re going to do great. You make history sound so fascinating and entertaining.” You smiled reassuringly at him. “I missed hearing all your stories while I was in Singapore.”
“Well, that just means I have to do some more research for you to get you up to speed,” Steven countered, and the two of you laughed. “I’m so happy that you’re back and that I get to meet with you again. We missed you so much.”
Once again, your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Marc missing you. But you quickly dismissed the thought as soon as it came— you and Marc were friends beforehand, after all. You already spent two years away from him, surely you should have gotten a grip over your unrequited crush on a man who had no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. 
Your face must have fallen. Before you caught yourself, you found Steven’s brown eyes washing over you with concern. “You know, love, Marc told me he missed you too. I know you didn’t keep in touch with him frequently like you did with me. Are you doing okay?”
You swallowed hard as the other shoe dropped. As much as you hated to admit, it was true. Compared to the handwritten letters and postcards you sent Steven, your communication with Marc paled in comparison. You reasoned with yourself that the distance would do you good, and the only times you shared any correspondence with him were through some texts and pictures you sent via email. Like Marc, you did not have much social media, and you preferred to keep your private life private. But in the texts you both shared, they were straight-forward. You knew Marc was not fond of communicating through texts, and it was difficult to keep track of when he fronted with the time differences between New York and Singapore. Naturally, he fell through the cracks. 
It’s been a few weeks since you saw Marc, and the last time you spoke with him was when he took you home after picking you up at the airport. You weren’t avoiding him, but you also did not trust yourself around him. One look at him, and all the feelings you tried to repress would suddenly rush to the surface. 
“Does he know?” You asked, your voice quiet and hesitant. “About my feelings for him?”
You watched as Steven’s eyes softened. Whether your best friend was telling the truth, or telling you what you needed to hear to avoid hurting you, you did not know.  
“No, he doesn’t.”
You nodded, but kept your gaze on your mournful expression looking up at you through your reflection on the glossy surface. The mug grew cold in your hands, and you no longer felt the warmth and comfort of your favorite tea. 
Sensing the change in demeanor, you heard Steven clear his throat and set his mug on the table. Pulling you out of your thoughts, you glanced over at him to see a sheepish smile on his lips, his curls slightly askew. 
“If you don’t mind, can I practice my first tour with you? I have my speeches ready, and I think I need to get you caught up on what you missed.”
You vaguely felt the sting in your cheeks as you smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to hear it. Tell me everything.”
As Steven practiced his first speech and tour with you, thoughts of Marc began to fade away. All you could do was smile as you listened to your friend recite the great history of ancient civilizations over your favorite cup of tea. Your heart ached as the afternoon bled into the evening, but it was not as painful as it was before. Things were different now— you were different— as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had to move on, for your sake.
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The days went by slowly, and soon it was summer. You smiled as the sun shined longer and the nights grew shorter, painting the sky vibrant hues of golds, oranges, and reds like a sparkling fire. You did not see Steven as often once he started his museum tours, but you always smiled at his texts. 
It was a Thursday morning when you were at home when you heard your phone chime from across the room. Expecting it to be Steven gushing about his latest tour to elementary school children, you picked up your phone without a second thought, only for your heart to stop. Marc.
You did not mean to ignore him, but your communication with him was limited in the months you returned. It was for the best, you reasoned with yourself. The distance would do you good, and for a while, you truly believed that you moved on from your unrequited crush on your friend. But just a simple text and call of his name brought you back to the sleepless nights of staining your pillow with tears. 
The rushing sound of your beating heart echoed in your ears as your fingers over the text. You couldn’t ignore him forever. He was your friend first, your heartbreak second. 
Which led you to wearing your favorite dress with your arm linked through his as the two of you walked through the busy town square of a night market. Much to your parents (and Steven’s) concern, you agreed to meet with him. 
“I haven’t talked to him since I left for Singapore,” you argued with your parents over dinner. “He was my friend first. I can’t ignore him forever.”
And honestly, you couldn’t, even if you tried. Marc was too observant, and the last thing you wanted was for him to think he hurt you. Even if your heart was breaking.
“I’m sure the food was better back in Singapore, but I thought that I could bring a part of it to you.”
You laugh softly as Marc turns to you. Seeing there was an Asian street food market in town that weekend, Marc invited you to come along. It was a way for you two to catch up since you had yet to have a full and proper conversation with him since you returned home. It was casual enough, and surely, no harm could be done. 
“It’s still home,” you assure him, and your heart swells as he smiles at you. 
How could you hate him when he still brought you joy?
“I researched what I could, but I’ll need your opinion since you’re the expert,” he teases, and you laugh again. “There’s so many choices, it’s almost overwhelming. Where do I start?”
You look around at the different vendors, booths, and trucks around the square. Even at this hour, there are so many people trying new things and enjoying the night. There really is no place like home. 
“I’ll show you one of my favorites,” you tell him. “Have you had mochi donuts before?”
“It will be my first time,” Marc smiles at you, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as he extends his arm to you. “Show me.”
With a pounding heart, you link your arm through his as you guide him to the booth. Thankfully the line was not long, and you had food to temporarily distract you from the emotions rising to the surface. 
The conversation began to flow into a steady rhythm as the night continued on. Two years have passed since you last stood by his side, but tonight, the memories gathered in your mind as if it were only yesterday. You found yourself laughing over the shenanigans that Marc and Steven found themselves in while you were gone, and in return, you shared stories of creating recipes and painting the town red with your cousin and her friends on sleepless nights. 
For a little while, you fooled yourself into thinking it was the two of you, just like old times. 
You sit on a bench as the night draws to a close. With his jacket around your shoulders, it takes everything in you to not pull it closer towards yourself. It may not mean nothing to him, but it means everything to you.
Across the promenade, a local college band begins to play as the strings of their guitar tunes out the noise of your beating heart. If you listen long enough, you would not have to hear your heart ache. 
After a moment, Marc takes a shaky breath beside you, his dark brows furrowed. “Can I ask you something?”
You turn to face him. “Anything.”
You watch as a soft smile spreads across his lips, but you know him long enough to know that it did not reach his eyes. 
“You’ve been different since Singapore,” he begins, and you swallow hard, fearing his next words. “You’ve been distant. Things just aren’t the same or what it used to be. I need to know—”
Your breath catches in your throat as he turns to look at you. His brown eyes were dark, filled with emotion that he seldom showed. 
“Was it something I did?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Have I hurt you?”
Marc Spector was many things— observant, perceptive— but a heartbreaker? A heartbreaker was not one of them, even if he held your broken one in the palm of his hands.
“No, Marc—” you swallow the growing ache in your chest as you reach for him. “Please don’t ever think that. You did nothing wrong.” Gently, you squeeze his hands to comfort him. 
You could not lie to him. You could not hurt him, not when he was like this. 
“Things may be different, but I haven’t changed. Not really.”
But you have, in your own way. You would like to believe you have changed and grown into a young woman, but as you smiled at him, you wondered how much you really changed when your heart fluttered at his smile. 
“You seem more grown up,” he whispers softly as he smoothes a strand of your hair. “Don’t grow up so fast that you don’t need me, kid.”
You blink, ignoring the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes at his words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
With a comforting smile, he stretches his arm and places it around your shoulders to pull you close as his lips gently place a soft kiss on your forehead. Your heart skips a beat from his touch as the scent of his cologne envelopes you. It is so tempting to close your eyes and fall deeper into his embrace, but you fight against the heartstrings being tugged at your heart. 
In the promenade, the band transitions to a softer, romantic song with a few slow strokes of an acoustic guitar. One by one, couples gather with their partners to sway and dance along. A soft smile graces your lips as you recognize the tune. 
“This is one of my favorite Hozier songs,” you remark fondly as you remembered discovering his music for the first time. “Do you like his music—”
You look over at your friend, but stop. It was as if he was frozen in time, eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost. 
“Marc?”
He did not answer. He remains frozen, paralyzed and rooted to the spot as if he was ensnared by invisible hands. You call out to him again as you grasp his hands in yours, trying to bring him back to reality. 
Finally, his eyes meet yours, filled with nothing but pain and sorrow. 
“This song—” he stammers, his voice hoarse. His gaze flickers between you and the band as the couples in the courtyard embrace one another to the lyrics. “This song was played at my wedding.” 
Your heart sinks as you realize the significance. Layla. 
“It was your song,” you breathe as the pain in your heart begins to splinter deep inside, tearing it in two. How insensitive of you to think that he was over his first love. 
As if he was burned, Marc pulls away from you. He turns his head away, his voice low and trembling as he speaks. 
“I’m sorry, kid, but please excuse me—”
Before you could say a word, he was already walking away, leaving you alone at the bench with his jacket around your shoulders. 
Slowly, you pull your hands toward yourself. The tears that threatened you from before finally had the chance to fall, staining your cheeks with heartbreak and woe. Your heart twists as you watch the couples cradle each other as if they would fall apart without their touch. You were foolish to think that could be you and Marc one day. How could you fault him for still being in love with his first love when you still had feelings for him?
You should have said no, you scold yourself as you pull his jacket tighter around you, trying to comfort yourself with the lingering scent of his cologne and imagining that he was holding you in his arms. Tonight was a mistake, and you should have kept your distance from him. You should have listened to your parents and Steven’s words of caution, but here you were, crying alone on a bench. 
Marc saw you as nothing more than a younger sister. He was never yours. 
As you wipe the stray tears on your cheeks, you are pulled from your thoughts by a familiar handkerchief crossing your line of vision. 
Stunned, you look up and find a pair of deep brown eyes washing over you in concern. He shares the same face, but you know the difference. 
“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t spend her evening shedding tears, conejita.”
A dry laugh escapes your lips as you accept the handkerchief. As you brush away your tears, he takes a seat beside you and whistles a low tune. 
“Marc,” you clear your throat, trying to control the wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “Is he alright?”
“He’ll be fine, he just needs some time,” Jake answers. He looks over at you with a sympathetic gaze. “I’m sorry he walked away.”
You shrug as you look down, your fingers twisting the ends of his handkerchief to numb the heartache. Even when it hurt, you could not find it in yourself to be upset with him. 
You echo his words. “I’ll be fine.”
He clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. 
“We can’t have that,” he reasons as he stands and offers his hand to you with a gentle smile. “Let’s end the night on a good note.”
You ponder his words as you look up at him. Jake shares the same face as your best friends, but is different in his own way. Steven’s eyes were bright and doe-eyed while Marc’s were darker with a storm of emotion, but Jake was different.
Looking at him now, they are deeper, but filled with a sense of warmth and familiarity that you could not explain. It bewilders you, but at the same time, it was as if you were greeting an old friend. 
Yet, there is so much about Jake that you did not know. You try not to let your worries get the best of you, but you remain hesitant and guarded at his intentions. You prefer not to know, and you would rather delude yourself into hoping he was not aware of your unrequited feelings for Marc, too. It seems everyone knows how you feel about him except the man himself. 
As if he read your mind, he reaches forward to caress your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that falls from your eyes. 
“I promise I have no ill intentions, conejita,” he comforts you with a gentle smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Your cheeks grow warm. “I don’t know you very well.”
He chuckles softly at you. “I promised I would show more of myself to you when you returned. Let me fulfill that promise.”
You remembered that night when he found you crying on the steps outside of his apartment before you left for Singapore. It felt so long ago, but it also felt as if it were yesterday. 
With a sheepish smile, you accept his hand. “Lead the way.”
You allow him to guide you to the promenade with your hand in his. After a moment, he pulls you close with one of his hands settling on your back, the other holding yours as he begins to sway to the music. You follow his movements with one hand on his shoulder as the other was laced with his, keeping you connected to him. 
You were not much of a dancer. For most of high school, you opted out of homecoming and only attended prom during your senior year, but even then, you were with friends. You never slow danced with anyone except your father whenever he played the old romantic love songs from his homeland in the kitchen on Saturday mornings.
An apology immediately falls from your lips as you accidentally step on his feet. “I’m so sorry—”
He tucks a finger under your chin, guiding you to look at him. 
“Eyes on me,” he whispers. “Follow my movements. Pretend it’s just the two of us.”
Slowly, you nod, keeping your eyes on him as you follow his steps. Your cheeks feel warm from the contact, but you elect to ignore it. You could only imagine how you looked. 
“When did you learn how to dance?” You ask him curiously. You did not want to say it, but you were surprised to see that he was a natural dancer. 
“I’m a man of many hidden talents, and I am not one to reveal my secrets.”
You could not help but laugh at his answer as he grins playfully at you. He was always an enigma. 
“Well, whoever taught you must have been a wonderful teacher,” you compliment him with a small and shy smile. “And whoever you danced with had a lucky partner.” 
Jake laughs softly as he twirled you. Once you face him again, he smiles. 
For the first time, you feel something foreign tug at your heartstrings. In the glimpses you have seen of Jake Lockley, you knew very little about him, but you knew enough to know he only revealed his true self to a select few.
Perhaps this time, you would finally meet the man in the front seat through the window in-between.
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The ride home was quiet, but the silence was not suffocating. The city lights blurred past you as Jake hummed and whistled along to the Spanish melodies that played on the radio. Some songs you were familiar with from the playlists that Steven and Marc would often share with you. There were times when you asked them to teach you the language so you could better understand the songs they would sing, and in return, you shared the music from your family’s homeland. You did not recognize the songs that Jake played on the radio, but even in your limited understanding of the language, you found comfort in the harmonies. 
Like a true gentleman, Jake walked you to your front door once he dropped you off at home. The lights were still on in the kitchen when you arrived, and you knew your parents were still awake and waiting for your return. 
“Thank you for tonight,” you turn to him as you stop at your front door. “I had a good time with you and Marc.”
Your heart aches at the thought of Marc. There was so little he shared about his divorce with Layla, and from the little you knew about it, you knew he loved her deeply. The wound in his heart had yet to close and heal, much similar to yours. 
Sensing your worry, Jake offers a reassuring smile. 
“He’ll be alright,” he reassures you. “He just needs some time to himself, but I promise you he’ll be okay. Steven and I will look after him.”
You nod. You’ve seen Marc withdraw at times, but not like this. You could still see the fear on his face— he looked as if he had seen a ghost, and you wonder if he will be able to come back.
“Did you want to come inside? I made some mochi earlier that you could take home.”
He shakes his head, but still offers that comforting smile at you. “I’ll be alright, but thank you. Can you tell your parents I said hello?”
You smile weakly at him, feeling a bit comforted by his reassurance. “I will.”
As you watch him walk back to his car, your heart begins to ache, a dagger digging into your chest and you could barely breathe. 
For a moment, he looked just like Marc. Slicked back dark hair, olive green jacket over his shoulders, and that soft, gentle smile. 
There was a time when Marc would bring you home like this, right after your night classes. He would walk you to the front door, his jacket over your shoulders, a protective arm around you as it was already dark once the sun had set. 
“Whenever you need me, you can call me,” he comforted you the first night you completed your night class. It was already fall with the days growing shorter and the nights growing darker, and you often called him to take you home since you felt unsafe walking across campus and waiting at the bus stop by yourself. 
“You don’t need to take me home every Thursday because I’m scared of walking alone to the bus stop at night. I can call campus police for an escort,” you told him as he opened the car door for you.
Marc shook his head and took your bag from your shoulders as you stepped in. “The buses aren’t always reliable, and I need to make sure you’re home safe.”
You began to protest, but he smiled at you as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. 
“No one can hurt you when I’m around,” he whispered. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy, kid.”
But you did not have to do anything for Marc to leave you. How could you lose someone you loved if they were never yours?
You ignore the ache in your heart as Jake drives away, disappearing into the darkness like a dying star in the night sky. With a deep breath, you force a smile and step inside to find your parents waiting for you in the living room, eager to hear everything about your date. 
It went well, you lie. We are just friends, and my feelings for him have faded. I am no longer in love with him. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you repeat to yourself as you sit in your room, your fingers tracing the daffodil petals that you saved from the bouquet he had given you. You cherished the flowers he gifted you, but they have withered and died, their petals pressed into thin pieces you would have saved and kept near to your heart. 
You remembered sitting in the field as a schoolgirl with flowers in your hand and giggling with your friends as you sang, he loves me, he loves me not. 
You loved him, but he loves you not.
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector, you whisper, dropping the petals into the wastebasket. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 
Another petal falls, followed by the other. 
I am no longer in love with Marc Spector. 
A tear falls from your eyes as you drop the last petal, your hand empty without any trace of him. 
It was time to let him go. 
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ijustwant2write · 2 years
Text
Sleeping Buddies-Steven Grant x Reader
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(GIF credit to @marveldaily)
Summary: Unbeknownst to Marc, Steven has a girlfriend. This girlfriend also doesn't know that Marc exists, as well as Steven's odd sleeping rituals.
Characters: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Just fluff and it's long
                                         *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Did you really have to be that harsh on those guys?" Steven moaned as he sat up in bed, his body aching.
"Oh, I'm sorry, would you have preferred to be beaten to a pulp back there?" Marc snapped back.
"Alright, alright, I get it. I thought the suit was supposed to be all healing, why am I aching?"
"You slept in a weird position last night."
Steven just shook his head, slowly walking towards the cupboard with cereal in it. As he poured himself a bowl, he heard his phone ding, smiling when he saw who's name popped up.
"(Y/N)? Who's that? And why are you smiling so much?"
Steven ignored him, unlocking the phone and instantly tapping on the notification. He had two messages from her, both sweet, just like her.
'Good morning 😊 hope you're OK after what Donna said to you. That sounds terrible! Sometimes I wish I worked at that museum with you just so I could give her a piece of my mind! 😡 I can't wait to see you this weekend, I've really missed you xx'
Marc was really confused as he read the text. How did he not know about this woman? And how did Steven manage to even talk to a girl?
'Hi, are you OK? I tried to face time earlier but you didn't answer. Obviously it's fine if you're busy, but I'm guessing your sleep is messed up again. Maybe we can go to a doctor together about it? If you want that is, no pressure my love. Anyway, I hope you're sleeping well, I'll message you in the morning as usual. Sweet dreams xx'
"Steven, do you have a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, I do, actually. Why do you sound surprised?"
"What does she look like?"
"None of your business! Besides, it's all messed up now, innit? Now you're in the picture, and how would she react to that? This relationship is still new, I don't want to ruin it."
"You've got to tell her at some point."
"I know but-"
Steven was interrupted when someone knocked on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone or anything to be delivered today. Maybe it was the postman that had a parcel for his neighbours who weren't in. Steven took the blue strip off the door, hiding his body behind the door, he was still in his pyjamas after all. However, his mouth dropped open when his girlfriend stood there.
"Holy shit, Steven."
"(Y/N), h-hi, what are you doing here?" he fully opened the door, forgetting how he looked.
"Sorry, I know I should have called or text before coming over. I just...I was starting to worry about you."
"You have to tell me how you picked up this girl."
"Worry? Why would you worry?"
"It's four in the afternoon. I was supposed to text you this morning and during work like I usually do but I was late today, and then I had to basically cover everyone else so I didn't have time. I've felt so bad."
"No, no sweetheart, why would you feel bad? I'm the one who's been sleeping all day."
"It's a good thing you're not at work today."
"You remembered my schedule?"
"You sent me a copy of your rota, just in case sleep gets the better of you."
"Steven, she's way out of your league."
Steven was slightly offended by Marc's words, but he knew it was true. He too had been shocked when (Y/N) started a conversation with him. She was gorgeous, and one of the best things about her was how caring she was. (Y/N) never asked too many questions about his sleep trouble, she just made sure she was able to help in some way. Even if that meant giving Steven his space and not staying over at each others places.
(Y/N) admitted (just to herself) it hurt that she couldn't lay in bed with Steven. They couldn't watch a film snuggled up on the sofa for fear Steven may fall asleep. Although it wasn't the most important thing, (Y/N) did want to sleep with Steven, as in, make love with one another. Not because she was horny, but because she loved him and she felt that sex was another layer of connection between a couple. However, (Y/N) wasn't going to risk pushing Steven away over sex, he meant so much to her.
"Can I come in?"
She had been at his before for dinner, multiple times, but that's when Steven cleared away the sand and hid his leg shackle under the bed. He totally forgot about that as he invited her in, eyes popping out of his head when he turned around after closing the door. It was too late, she had already seen it.
"Steven, what's this?" she asked, not sure how to take it.
"It's...it's for the sleep, I swear! I used to get up in the middle of the night, end up hurting myself. And, and the sand is to see if I have stepped out of bed. Oh, and this," he held up the crumpled blue tape in his hand,"I put this on the door so I can figure out if I've left the flat."
"You do all this because of your sleep habits?"
Shit, shit, shit, this was it. (Y/N) was going to think he was a freak, she didn't see how crazy he was. He could envision it now. She was going to rapidly pick up her things and scurry out of there, deleting his number and him out of her life forever. He couldn't lose her, she was the best thing in his life right now.
Steven was wary as she slowly approached him, he had no idea what she was going to do or what her reaction would be. (Y/N) looked upset, and he didn't know what that meant. She snaked her arms around his waist, cuddling him close as she rested her head on his chest.
"I'm so sorry Steven. You should have told me about this, I could have helped...somehow."
Steven was so relieved, instantly hugging her back. He didn't realise how much he needed a hug right now. (Y/N) rubbed circles on his back, soothing the tension away. How had he found someone so perfect?
"What? She's not running away? Steven, you've literally found the ideal woman. Either that or she's as crazy as you and me."
"So, you're not running away?" Steven squeaked out.
She squeezed him."No you donut. I'm staying, and I'm going to help. In future, just let me know when you need help, OK?"
"I will."
"So, I was thinking, since I'm here, maybe I could stay over?"
(Y/N) had just come out with it, she had been so nervous about asking. It was a sensitive subject, but she knew she had to just ask, otherwise it would never happen. The wait felt far too long as she saw Steven thinking about it. No, don't banc down now, see what he says!
"You're taking too long to answer buddy."
"Yeah, yeah why not? As long as you're OK with my...sleep habits."
(Y/N) grinned as soon as he agreed, and Steven couldn't ignore that. There was guilt creeping up. It was normal for couples to stay with one another, he kept avoiding that. He just hoped that Marc would take a break this evening and actually let him sleep. Now all he was worrying about was (Y/N) actually being here.
"Uh, I'm afraid the place is a bit messy, I haven't had much time to clean up. And I don't have any food for us."
"Oh, I mean, I can stay another night-"
"No, I didn't mean for you to go away! I, I was just, um, trying to cover myself, like, just explain why my life is such a mess."
She giggled."So dramatic. Why don't we just order a takeaway, and if you want we can tidy up the place whilst we wait?"
He nodded, surprised when he quickly pecked him on the lips. (Y/N) went to grab her phone, looking up where was best to order from. Steven quietly excused himself to the bathroom, letting out a breath as he locked the door. He had to calm down, he was going to have a heart attack otherwise.
"Steven."
Marc startled him, making Steven whip around to look in the mirror. Marc didn't look impressed.
"Would you stop stressing, you're going to start sweating."
"How can I not stress? You're here with me, (Y/N) has shown up, and we've never spent the night together."
"Never?"
"No!"
"She seems sweet, she's gorgeous too."
"Oi, don't look at her, alright? What if I do something wrong?"
"If she's stuck around after seeing the leg shackle, I think you can't do anymore wrong."
"Babe, you want the usual?" (Y/N) called.
"Yeah love, yeah that would be great. Thank you."
"Right, you're going to go out there and have a nice evening, simple as. I don't know why you're acting like this."
"Because I love her!"
Steven started to smirk."You haven't told each other yet, have you?"
"No, didn't want to scare her away."
"Again, I think she would have run after the restraints."
"Yeah, you're right. I've faced monsters and bad guys, this will be a piece of cake."
Marc politely nodded, not wanting to crush Steven's tiny bit of confidence. Steven was smiling to him, straightening out his top and tidying up his hair. He missed Marc shaking his head as Steven left the bathroom, seeing (Y/N) already starting the dishes he had left.
"You didn't have to do those." He said as he stood next to her.
"You look like you need some help babe. No offence."
Steven was hesitant, but he wrapped one arm around her waist, hesitantly kissing the side of her head. She knew he was still new to PDA, so this was very sweet of him. Leaning into his embrace, she almost squealed when he rested his head on top of hers. When he suggested drying up, (Y/N) told him to leave it, drying her own hands before guiding him to the sofa.
"Can I ask about the shackle? Like, how did you decide to use one?"
"I don't know really." they sat opposite each other, but their legs were tangled up, holding hands still."It just got really bad at one point, I was a danger to myself."
"That's terrible. So you've been going through this by yourself?"
He nodded.
"Well, I'm here now. I'm going to help you. Everyone deserves a good night sleep."
"Oh, sweetheart you don't have any of your things with you!"
(Y/N) glanced down at her clothes, almost smacking her hand over her face in stupidity."Ah, yeah, well, I wasn't really expecting to stay."
"You can borrow my stuff if you like."
"Is that OK?"
"Yeah. I'm sure I've got a spare toothbrush too, don't really fancy using the same one do you?"
"No, not really. Thank you babe." she leaned over to kiss him."Do you mind if I get changed into something comfier now?"
"Yeah, yeah. Uh, let me, let me find something for you."
Although he had offered his clothes, he had no idea what to give to her. A t-shirt was fine, maybe a jumper to throw over if she was cold, but what about the bottom half? He only had a spare pair of jogging bottoms, and though they would be huge in her, it was the best he could do. He couldn't deny he was excited to see her in his things, she was going to look so cute.
And once she emerged from the bathroom, he couldn't help but shyly smile at her."You look adorable."
(Y/N) flet herself blushing, he was too cute."If you say so babe. I'm glad you think that anyway."
Marc kept quiet as the couple spent time together, observing Steven's behaviour. He was still dorky and shy, but it was as if they had been together for years. Steven sometimes made bold moves, kissing her randomly, pulling her back into hugs, playing with her hair, they even fed each other; he hadn't seen him this confident before.
Steven did the washing up this time, glancing back at (Y/N) on the sofa, who had now picked up a book to flip through. He caught Marc staring at him in a nearby mirror.
"So, things are going well."
Steven didn't reply, not wanting to look crazy in front of his girlfriend.
"OK, I know you're not going to speak to me but I can feel your heart beating and it doesn't sound healthy. You're just sleeping beside each other, it's not like she's expecting you to have sex."
Steven fumbled with the plate he was holding, quickly recovering before throwing a smile at (Y/N).
"You've got a good one here, Steven. She's in love with you."
It felt weird to hear Marc being sentimental. Why was he being so supportive? Wouldn't he want (Y/N) out of the picture to make it easier for him? But that word, love, Steven wasn't sure if it was the right time. Especially after the things she had seen in his flat.
Steven heard her yawn, looking over his shoulder to see (Y/N) snuggling deeper into the oversized jumper. He remembered she had been at work all day, she hadn't had a day off yet. He wasn't tired, seeing as he slept all day, but he would pretend to be to let her sleep sooner.
"Tired?"
She lazily nodded as she rubbed her eyes."Sorry, long day."
"Don't apologise. We can get snuggled up if you want."
"Snuggled up? Really?"
"Aren't you wide awake?"
"Nah, I can nap. Or I could read for a bit whilst you sleep. I've got a night light I can use."
(Y/N) stood up, stretching as she spoke."Steven Grant, you are the most adorable and sweetest thing I have ever seen."
He blushed, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. (Y/N) kissed him again before going to brush her teeth, the pair sharing a shy smile before closing the door. Steven rushed to the bed, wondering how on Earth he was going to get rid of all the sand in more or less two minutes. He tried to scoop some up into a cereal bowl but there was too much. He froze when he heard the door open.
"What are you doing?"
"Um, I'm trying to get rid of the sand. For you."
Did this man have any faults? (Y/N) walked over, resting a hand on his back."You don't have to do that. If it helps you then we'll leave it."
"You sure? What if you forget and step in it?"
"It's just sand babe, I can brush it off."
"Thanks. That's really nice of you."
They settled into bed, both a bit sheepish about the ordeal. Why were they stressing? They were adults, two adults who were dating and simply sharing a bed. Nothing was going to happen. Well, Steven hoped nothing would happen, he didn't want to freak (Y/N) out.
He couldn't help but watch as she sat up in bed to take off the jumper, the t-shirt underneath riding up below her bra line. His head whipped away from her once she had taken it off, trying to think of something else. (Y/N) laid down, pulling the duvet up as she buried herself in it. Steven was also under the covers, but had picked up a book from the bedside table, as well as his glasses.
"I love your glasses. You should wear them more often."
Steven chuckled softly."I think I look a bit like a nerd."
"And that's a bad thing? It's cute, yet sophisticated and handsome at the same time."
"Thanks. Perhaps I will wear them more."
"You sure about staying up? I can stay awake for a bit."
"You're shattered love. I don't mind. This is how I spend my evenings anyway."
(Y/N) hesitated before speaking, looking up at Steven with her big eyes."Could we maybe cuddle up whilst you read? You can always push me off if you want."
"And why would I do that?"
(Y/N) shimmied up to him as Steven lowered himself. She rested her head on his chest, one arm draped over his stomach. Steven had an arm around her back, the other holding his book.
"Comfy?" he asked.
"Yeah. I might have to request sleeping like this every night."
"Would you want to stay over again?"
"Are you asking me to?"
"I think so."
"Don't feel forced Steven. I mean, I would love to spend more nights with you."
"Then that's settled then, innit?" he placed a kiss on her forehead, mbefore reaching down and kissing her lips."Goodnight love."
"Goodnight. Don't stay up too late."
Steven had been reading for a while, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles on her back. She was asleep in minutes. He had to pause his reading a few times to check she was actually breathing she was so quiet. Like always, he didn't feel tired at all, giving up on reading and instead stroking back (Y/N)'s hair.
He wanted to continue this relationship. He really did love her, he had to admit it. However, he didn't want to say it out loud in case he jinxed it. This whole situation with Marc was so complicated and crazy, he didn't know how to go about it.
"Relax, for one night."
Marc was right. He had to at least enjoy this night with her. Leaning over to the lamp, he turned it off, cautiously lying down with (Y/N). She stirred but didn't wake. She held him tighter, wrapping one leg over his. And he didn't panic, Steven embraced it, holding her close.
Steven felt like he had blinked and woken up, though he was used to feeling tired all the time. A smile instantly appeared on his face as (Y/N) woke. Her hair was messy, eyes puffy, yet she was still the most beautiful thing Steven had ever seen.
"Good morning." Steven whispered.
She propped herself up to properly see him."Morning. How did you sleep?"
She had just woken up and her first thought was him.
"Better, still not great though."
"That's still good though babe, better than having a terrible night sleep. And you didn't use the shackle."
"Oh, I totally forgot about that."
"See? There's some progress already."
She slid off him so they were laying side by side, facing each other.
"You're amazing, do you know that?" Steven gushed.
"What? Why?"
"Because, you just are. Someone else might have ran away when they saw what state I was in. But you stayed."
"Yeah, well that's because I-" (Y/N) stopped herself, she was easily going to say it. Oh well, might as well come out with it."Because I love you."
Steven's breath got caught in his throat. She said it. She just said it. She loved him. (Y/N) loved him. Marc could have laughed at Steven's expression, almost wanting to nudge him to say something back before she thought he didn't feel the same.
"I love you." Steven replied, taken back when she dove forward to kiss him.
Their kiss was passionate and long, though Steven kept his hands in a respectable place, and (Y/N) decided against straddling him, no matter how tempting it was. They were breathing heavier when they finally parted, lips feeling puffy, bodies feeling hot.
"I love you." Steven said again.
"I love you."
"It feels good to say that."
"Have you been wanting to say that for a while?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Me too."
They giggled together. They felt like teenagers.
(Y/N) gave him a peck on the lips before sitting up."Mind if I go have a shower?"
"Course."
As she stood, Steven's eyes widened. In the night she had taken off the joggers, leaving her in just his t-shirt, which had also somehow ridden up over her bum, showcasing the thong she had on. (Y/N) knew it had happened, she just didn't feel the need to fix it; and Steven didn't care if it was on purpose or an accident.
"If you don't join her in the shower, then I will."
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scarletttries · 11 months
Text
NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)
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Steven Grant + Lingerie: (prompt list here)
- Steven Grant could have gone his whole life never considering women's underwear any further than knowing Bridget Jones's were apparently on the frumpy side (a closet rom-com fan, Steven has seen all the British classic a dozen times over in his so-far-uneventful pursuit of his own dramatic romance.) That is until you came into his life, the first person he had ever had the enormous privilege of falling in love with.
- It may have taken longer than you were expecting from a man you found endlessly handsome and charming, but after a run of almost perfect dates, Steven's nervous clumsiness aside, you were finally straddling his lap on the middle of his plush couch, guiding his hands the buttons of your dress so you could finally show him what you hand on underneath. Fumbling with each and every movement of his hands, and trying desperately to focus on your buttons as his head swam with the intoxicating taste of your lips on his, eventually he undid the final clasp allowing you to shrug off the velvety fabric and reveal the dark red, lacy, matching lingerie set you'd picked out hoping you'd end your night in this position.
- Steven's eyes would be wider than the moon taking in your exquisite beauty, the way the dark colours held your curves, the shimmering flesh peaking through the gaps in the lace, the slight outline of your nipples hardening against the fabric. He was in heaven. He didn't even realise people could look this beautiful, this otherworldly, this completely stunning, and in even more disbelief, that someone this gorgeous would be perched excitedly on his lap, leaving a trail of eager kisses down his neck that almost threatened to have his eyes flutter shut, if he wasn't so afraid to miss a second of this view.
- His hands skim over your thighs, toying with the frilled edges of the lace, a strangled moan erupting from his as you buck your hips against his, bringing his attention to the uncomfortable throbbing between in his legs as his manhood pushes against the tight fabric of his corduroys. It isn't hard to tell that Steven is a huge fan of you wearing a little less, but you start to get the picture as you experiment with different pretty little sets you own, figuring out exactly which ones drive Steven to the edge the quickest. The day you wore a sheer light pink set, complete with suspenders, Steven spent the whole night with his head buried between your thighs, too embarrassed to admit he'd cum in his boxers the moment you kissed him.
- Steven would want to get you some nice lingerie as a gift, but the moment he walked into a London lingerie store he got so flustered he walked into a scantily clad mannequin, knocked it over, apologised, and then sprinted out of the shop and straight home. Thankfully there are more than a few places online to order such a gift, and in fact browsing the range of options available opens up a whole new world for Steven. He never knew bras could come without straps, picturing how much easier it would be to slip his hands inside and let your boobs spill over the top where he could press his lips against them. But why stop there when he could buy you a pretty little bralet with two slits in the fabric exactly where your nipples would sit, meaning Steven could slip his fingers under your shirt and start teasing your sensitive tits, picturing all the fun he'd have getting you worked up as you tried to watch a movie resting against his chest.
- This would lead him to the holy grail of his latest obsession; crotchless panties. When he didn't think there could be any better feeling than slipping your wet lacy thong to the side as he worked his fingers into your greedy entrance, here was the perfect solution. He found himself scrolling through the whole collection, picturing you coming to visit him at work in one of your pretty summer dresses with a pair of these underneath, letting him pull you onto his lap while he stretches you with his hard length, watching you squirm as his colleagues walked by and commented on what a cute pair you were and how much happier Steven seemed these days. Before he's managed to place an order his trousers are down and his hand is wrapped around his aching cock, picturing you in the matching set on the screen, beautifully adorned in lace but with all your most sensitive areas exposed for Steven to play with. His hand starts to move faster as pictures you panting and moaning as he plays with your pretty little clit, chest bouncing as your nipples spill out of your bra, no choice but to let him touch every single part of you. He's picturing the sticky mess he'd leave dripping down the front of your panties when he can't hold back his release any more, the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs with no fabric to stop it sending him over the edge. By the time he goes to bed he's paid for next day delivery and invited you over for 'movie night' tomorrow.
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jake-g-lockley · 1 year
Text
Cookie Shenanigans (Steven Grant x reader)
Masterlist | Spotify Playlist
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A/N: Based on this post again, giggling and kicking my feet as I write this hehehe
Warnings: MDNI, sexual content
Word Count: 1k Tagging: @i-still-dont-like-your-face @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
You sigh the second your feet hit the corridor to Steven’s apartment. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was take a nice long shower and then cuddle with Steven. Or take a nice long slower with Steven. Either way, you were only craving one thing and that was Steven’s warm chest and comforting arms. 
You padded your way to Steven’s apartment, stopping in front of the door to pull out your spare key. You slipped the key in the keyhole only to notice that the door was locked from the inside, with the latch. Steven must have forgotten that you said you were coming over so you slipped your keys back into your pocket and knocked softly. 
“Steven, baby, latch.” you say loud enough for him to hear. 
You frowned when no one replied. You were positive that Steven was inside, there's no other way you could explain how the door was locked from the inside. You knocked and called out for him again and pouted when no one answered again. You pulled your phone out and brought Steven’s contact up, hitting the call button and tapping your foot nervously against the door.
You heard the soft ringing from inside of the apartment and you knew from that second that your boyfriend was up to no good. The last time he had been left to his own accord, he tried to shave his head and almost ended up with no eyebrows. The ringing stopped but suddenly a big crash sounded from inside of the apartment, making you slap your hand to your mouth in horror. 
“STEVEN! Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing?!” you yell a little louder.
“Nothing…” he mumbled from inside.
“Can you just let me in?” you sigh, pressing your forehead to the door.
“OKAY FINE! I’ll let you in but you gotta close your eyes!” 
“That’s fine with me.” you smile at your boyfriend’s mischiefs. 
You closed your eyes and a few seconds later heard the latch click before the door swung open. Steven’s hands were on your eyes and he muttered apologies into  your ear as he guided you into the apartment. The first thing you smelled was the heavenly smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies. You smiled but didn’t question it knowing that you had crashed upon Steven’s surprise. 
He suddenly let go of you and you found yourself in the bedroom, him smiling sheepishly at you. You raised an eyebrow before giving him a kiss, smiling against his lips as he pulled you closer by your hips. He pulled away before he could lose himself in you and smiled at you, kissing your cheek. His face was flushed, his cheeks red and a small dusting of what looked like flour was smeared on his forehead. 
“Go shower, and stay here until I tell you to come to the kitchen.” Steven says sternly before walking out. 
You resisted the urge to giggle as you watched his retreating butt before grabbing your towel and hopping into the shower.  Once you came out of the shower, you dressed yourself in one of Steven’s sweaters and curiosity began to take over your senses. 
You tiptoe out of the bedroom, making sure to avoid any creaky floorboards as you edged closer to the wall near the kitchen. You took a peak at what your boyfriend was doing. From where you were standing you could see Steven’s eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, the crease in his eyebrow becoming more prominent by the second. He had a piping bag in his hands and was carefully detailing something, perhaps a cookie. 
His tongue was wedged between his teeth and his eyes were squinting slightly. His concentration made him look so beautiful and perfect, the quiet atmosphere of the whole apartment adding to your peace and happiness. He finally set the piping bag down and smiled down at whatever masterpiece he was creating. 
“Darling! You can come out of the room now if you’re ready!” he called out without looking up from the cookie in front of him. 
You scurried back to the room and walked out casually, arranging your face to suit the look of confusion you needed to show Steven. 
“Tada!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the kitchen counter. 
You looked down and your eyes instantly widened at the sight before you. You clearly didn’t expect whatever Steven was making and when your eyes landed upon them, you were so taken aback that your breath was stuck in your lungs. 
On a tray before you were a set of beautifully piped sex position cookies. You stared at each position, and your mind flashes to each one that Steven had put you in whenever you both were doing the devil's deed.You started to giggle as your eyes shifted from the missionary cookie to the doggy cookie to the cowgirl cookie.  
“Are you laughing at my talents, love?” his British drawl curled right past your brain and went straight to your cunt as your eyes flutter. 
His hands were on your hips, pushing you against the kitchen counter as his mouth made quick work of your neck, leaving soft kisses that clearly were spurred on by the existence of the cookies in front of you. 
“Go on, take your pick.” he murmured into your ear, holding one of your hands up to skim over the cookies. 
“Can’t I just have them all?” you ask sweetly, your mouth watering at the prospect of your night.
“Don’t be greedy, sweet angel.” he said before nipping at your skin.
You grabbed a random cookie as you moaned into the pain. Steven smiles against your skin and takes the cookie from you, pushing your lips open with his fingers before feeding the cookie to you. You were so delighted by the taste of the cookie and the feeling of Steven’s hardening member against your ass that you were going to float away to heaven. 
“Fucking amazing Steven.” you whine as you push yourself against him, making him chuckle against you.
“I think it’s time we recreated some of these, don’t you think so too, darling?”
Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~
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vintagemulti · 2 years
Text
sunshine
pairings: steven grant x reader , talks of marc spector x reader
desc: steven grant, curer of shitty days.
warning: workplace harassment (nothing physical), marc being slightly murderous but it’s nothing if not deserved, swearing, angst / comfort, absolutely tooth rotting fluff
a/n: i literally needed to write something short, sweet and fluffy after the glass series ☠️ take this as part of that series or a stand alone, i don’t mind! bold / italics means marc is speaking, bold means khonshu is speaking - reader can hear neither
requested here
masterlist
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if you said your day was shit, it wouldn’t been the greatest understatement of the twenty first century.
everything about your day, from waking up five minutes before your alarm to no steven or marc, the bus being late once again, your boss being an utter cunt - for lack of a better word - but there was no surprise there, no dinner… everything. everything was wrong about this day.
until you opened your front door.
the house was loud, music playing in one of the rooms, oven on and something that smelt delicious cooking. you could feel the tension release from your shoulders.
steven must have heard you come in, because he stuck his head around the kitchen wall, smiling when his eyes landed on you.
that smile. that fucking smile made you lose it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore, the hot tears falling down your face before you could even try to stop them, handbag landing with a thud next to you.
“oh, no, no,” steven rushed over to you. “darlin’, what’s wrong?”
words seemed to fail you, your lungs were too focused on getting sharp inhales between sobs. steven wrapped his arms around you, your senses immediately being overtaken by his cologne - not marc’s, his. that was another difference between your boys.
“it’s alright, baby, i’m here.” he whispered into the top of your head, hand rubbing circles on your lower back, pulling you towards the couch and setting you on his lap.
steven continued to whisper those reassuring nothings into your ear for a few minute, before your breathing was stable enough to form a sentence.
“shitty day.” you mumbled, repositioning yourself so you could look at him.
“how?” his hands came to your face, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears and wiping the tears that continued to fall.
“boss,” you leaned into his touch. “keeps hounding me about this new project, and…”
“and?” he raised an eyebrow, and for a spilt second you saw the ghost of marc on his features.
“he keeps asking me out for a drink, and i’ve told him i’m unavailable, but he won’t seem to hear the word no.”
i’ll kill him.
yes, i’ll agree for once.
steven pulled you into his chest, eyeing the mirror behind him. “i’m sorry, darlin’. he’ll get what he deserves.”
normally you would inquire more, but the meaning behind the phrase seemed to pass by your tear fogged mind, bringing you comfort rather than questions.
“is marc here?” you mumbled into shirt.
he hummed a yes. “why?”
“just wonderin’.”
“you wanna talk to him?” steven has went back to tracing patterns on your back.
“i will, just not now,” you pulled him closer, if that was even possible. “don’t go, please.”
steven kissed the top of your hair. “i’m not going anywhere.”
before you could say anything else, the smoke alarm gave a long chirp, so loudly you thought the whole of london would hear it.
“ah, shite,” steven gently moved you off of him and walked into the kitchen, pressing the button off.
he opened the oven, more smoke coming out as he did so. “shit.”
you tried not to laugh. you really did. but you couldn’t stop the giggles, especially at the sight before you. he scowled, but his eyes gave him away - he was about to burst out laughing as well.
and he did, he laughed with you for at least a minute, standing in the kitchen holding the something-that-smelt-good from earlier.
he set it on the kitchen counter, pulling the over gloves off as well. rolling his eyes, steven elected to ignore marc’s simply hilarious comment about his cooking abilities, and walked back over to you.
although you had stopped laughing, the smile still resided on your lips. your lips, that steven came over to and kissed - a soft, gentle kiss, full of love.
pulling back, he took your face in his hands. “there’s that smile,” he praised, pressing another kiss to your lips.
“it’ll be chinese then, i take it?” you mumbled into his kiss.
“absolutely.”
the remains of your salt and pepper chicken sat on the table in front of you as you watched some soppy rom-com, although you weren’t really watching it.
sleep had almost overcome you, your eyelids were heaving and steven’s heartbeat was like a lullaby in your ear.
he looked down at you, smiling at the sight. “still having a shitty day?”
“a little,” you mumbled. “but it’s better with you.”
steven brought a hand to your head, running his fingers though your hair and massaging your scalp in a way that had you sure your brain was nothing but mush and goo, floating about in your skull.
go to bed, i’ll take the body when you’re both asleep.
steven nodded. “give him one for me, please.”
don’t worry buddy, i’ll give him plenty.
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mkfluffluv · 2 years
Text
Dyed Hair Disaster
STEVEN GRANT X READER , MARC SPECTOR X READER , JAKE LOCKLEY X READER
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prompt : the moon knight boys laugh at you and your horrible attempt at dyeing your hair
hi hi it's me again, this idea popped in my head when i was out shopping and thought of buying some boxed hair dye and then went "nope im gonna mess it up and people are gonna laugh at me." ENJOY!!
likes and reblogs appreciated as always <3
word count : 1,391
warnings : none, this is crack and just funsies all around.
masterlist
It starts as any normal Monday. Steven is the one to wake up this morning since he has the morning shift at the museum. Before, Steven would not have been so excited to get to work. All he did was restock stupid merchandise and stand behind a counter all day after all. But recently, Jake had done...something to Donna that made her change her mind and gave him the tourist job. He won't question it, he's just happy to not have to look at those horrific items anymore.
Steven feels around beside him trying to look for your warm embrace so he can cling to you like a baby koala but frowns when he doesn't find you anywhere. The man blearily opens his eyes, squinting as he adjusts to the glaring light coming from the window. You must already be awake now if the window is open, that is unless Marc had left it open when he came home from patrol but Steven knew Marc would never be that careless.
His eyes dart around the bedroom with half-opened eyes and when he doesn't spot you anywhere, he reluctantly gets out of bed, swaying a bit as he's still not fully awake yet. Steven lets his feet guide him to his usual morning routine all while calling out your name.
When you don't answer after his third call, he starts to get worried. You had told him yesterday that you didn't have work today and even if you were to go out somewhere, you always make sure to put a sticky note on Gus' tank before you do to let him know.
So Steven starts checking the apartment, starting with the kitchen to see if you’d woken up earlier to make breakfast, then the living room in case you were watching the morning news, and then the bedroom again, thinking he would find you hidden somewhere somehow. He doesn’t find you anywhere though and as he feels himself starting to get a bit panicked, he notices in the corner of his eye, the bathroom door ajar where he can see a glimpse of your leg.
Steven lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and knocks once, then twice. When he doesn't hear your voice responding, he just opens the door, not thinking for a second about what you might be doing inside because his panic was really starting to set in.
Now, Steven expected to see many things when he opened the door. But what he didn't expect was to find you staring morbidly at the mirror, your hair covered in blotches of blue mixing with your natural hair color. A video on how to dye hair was playing on your phone that was placed on the sink. The sink that is also covered in a lot of blue hair dye.
When your head snaps sideways to look at him, there is an embarrassed flush to your face. Steven bites his bottom lip, trying his hardest to stifle in a giggle that is bubbling up in his throat. You looked quite silly with your tinted pink cheeks and strangely blue hair.
"If you laugh at me, I swear to god-"
It only took the sight of your angry face and the empty threat for Steven to break into a fit of laughter, clutching at his stomach as he laughs and laughs at the ridiculous situation happening right now. He pretty much doubles over in laughter when you yell at him to stop. God, you looked like a spotted puppy. He tells you this and receives a light slap to the shoulder. He doesn’t stop laughing though, only continues to laugh at you as his panic from before slowly fades away.
It’s just funny to him how this whole time, he’d been frantically searching the apartment from room to room, panicked eyes looking everywhere, thinking something bad had happened to you when all along, you were just hiding in the bathroom, the whole time not responding to Steven because you were stood shocked still because of the sight of your wacky hair in the mirror
"Oh goodness, love, I'm so sorry." He says between small giggles, wiping a single stray tear from his eyes. You don’t respond to him He can hear Marc's quiet voice in his head, telling him to give control just so he can see what's going on that's got Steven so worked up. Oh, Marc would love this.
-
"Oh god, babe, what did you do?" Marc is leaning against you as he loudly dissolves into laughter the minute he sees you and your wildly colored hair. You slap at his arm and yell at him to stop laughing at you already, which only makes him laugh harder. He hears you groan in frustration as he drops down to the ground clutching at his side. God, Marc does not remember the last time he'd felt this amused by something but the sight of you was just too much. He feels a sharp kick to his stomach and looks up to see you looking angry as ever, which would look a lot scarier if your hair didn’t look like some weirdly spotted puffball.
Marc takes one and then two deep breaths to steady himself. He was still a bit giggly when he stands up but holds it in to not upset you anymore. You glare at him, staring daggers into his soul trying to scare him but Marc just cannot take you seriously when you look like that.
Marc grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, forming duck lips on your face. He makes the same expression on his own face and then very briefly presses his duck lips to yours. The silly gesture brings a smile to your face, or well as much a smile as you can make with Marc's hand on your face.
He runs a hand through your unruly and truly terribly dyed hair and lets out another chuckle. To this, you roll your eyes and swat his hand away from your head. "Are you done laughing at me now? Gonna let Jake have a turn at laughing at me?" Marc's face brightens and yours fall. "Oh no. Don't you dare." Luckily for Marc, and unluckily for you, Jake has been waiting to front for a while.
-
When Jake opens his eyes and sees your failed dye job he almost started to laugh hysterically as well but when seeing your genuinely upset, adorable face, he can’t help but only coo and hold your face gently in his hands, with you naturally leaning into it. Steven is right, you do look like a weirdly spotted puppy. He doesn’t tell you that though. The other boys have teased you enough.
“I won’t laugh darling, no need to worry about that.” He gently assures you. You place your hand over his and give him a soft smile. It sends a happy and warm feeling to Jake’s heart and he can’t help but smile back.
“You want help dyeing all this out?” Jake asks you, the hand that isn’t holding your face comes up to touch your hair. You swat his hand away the same way you did to Marc and scoff, crossing your arms on your chest. The missing warmth of your hand and face from his hand makes him pout. You completely ignore him though and walk towards the bedside table where you kept a small box of hair dye the color of your natural hair. Yeah right, as if you would know how to dye that back.
Jake swiftly snatches the box from your hands and orders you to just sit on the bathtub, relax a bit, and let him do the rest. When you deny him like the stubborn one you are, he scoops you up bridal style into his arms and carries you back to the bathroom, carefully avoiding your thrashing hands and legs from kicking or punching him in the face. He then gently sets you down on the empty bathtub where you immediately sag, seemingly accepting your humiliating fate of having your boyfriend fix your mess of a dye job.
He shakes his head at the adorable sight of you and your truly horrible mess of hair and finally gets to work on the hair dye.
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jakelcckley · 2 years
Note
Okay, but what kind of arguments would the reader and Steven have?? I always see fics about fights with Jake or Marc, but never Steven 🤔
TO BE WORTHY OF YOU
Another steven grant request! Okay so i wrote a little fic about it, and this is about the reader and steven having their little fight. I apologize if this comes a little late and also for the terrible grammar. 🥹🫶🏼 Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!
pairing: steven grant x reader
Word count: almost 1.6K
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Steven entered the flat and you watched him intently from the couch that you are sitting on for hours now; your mind was a mess the entire time. There have been no any kinds of greeting from him, not even a kiss on your cheek, his sweet endearments, nothing of those. He just went straight right to the kitchen, and the flat made you feel empty even if there were two of you in it.
Steven was avoiding you for almost two weeks now and you couldn’t bear anymore this silent treatment that he’s giving you. He would only pass by you like you're some kind of drywall, or he would front early in the morning to leave the flat before you could wake up and let Marc take over once he got home for the rest of the night. Even Jake is getting frustrated with fronting more than his usual quota (not that he doesn't love spending time with you, he's mad at Steven for putting you through whatever this is).
(”Steven...” Marc trailed off as he treads his finger on your hair. You are using his lap as a pillow and you immediately looked up at him when he mentioned Steven's name, “Steven doesn't speak to us anymore. He’s refusing to talk, y/n. You and I fully know well how you could only bring him back.”
“He’s blocking us out, mi amor,” Jake blurted out one night when he invited you to drive around the city using his cab. His one hand is gripping your thigh and the weight of his hand serves as an anchor to your thoughts. “We couldn’t see anything, and Vato’s getting major at it.”)
The thing is, steven was the first one to avoid you. You expressed your worries about him taking extra hours in his new job, which caused Steven to arrive home late every night. With him pulling extra hours at the firm, Steven started missing dinners because he prefers to rest instead nowadays causing him to not eat properly. The bags under his eyes are only getting darker and darker. Steven doesn't say it, but you can tell that he's already tired, and the exhaustion is also taking a toll on Marc and Jake with their duties, especially whenever Khonshu is calling for them on a mission. You are worried that their health would collapse at the time that they least expect it.
You couldn’t sleep at the thought of your loved ones leaving you over and over again. You don't know what will you do if you lose another person who’s dear and close to your heart.
To save them all from this, you decided that you will end this tonight.
"Steven," You called out to him and turns the television off. The television is just an excuse for you to stare emptily in a distance. "We need to talk."
“I-I’m tired love, I can’t do this right now.” Steven quietly says from the kitchen. His back is turned and you felt a stab in your heart when he doesn't want to look at you.
"No, I'm not taking that as an answer, Steven." Your voice rose in annoyance, "You need to stop doing this! Everything is getting worse and it's like I don't know who you are right now. You might be avoiding me, but I can tell that you are exhausted for days now, Steven. Marc and Jake couldn't--,"
"There it is," Steven cuts you off before turning around to face you, his eyes are dark and his eyebrows are pinched together furiously and his face is red with suppressed anger, "This whole caring thing, this is just about Marc and Jake yeah?"
You froze at his words, "What do you mean?"
“You know very well what I mean,” Steven spat angrily. He was never this angry at you. “It’s because they had it more, yeah? Compare to me, I’m just a twat who doesn’t have anything that could satisfy you, right? It’s what this whole thing is about. Steven is just a useless twat.”
You couldn’t believe what Steven was saying just now. But you knew that there was a reason why he is like this.
“Steven, I have never saw you anything like that.”
Steven smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. It is as if he's mocking you. "Right," He said bitterly before turning his back once again. Steven walked off to his study table to unload his bag, "Marc or Jake will be here anytime now. You don't have to worry about me anymore."
With his words, you started fitting all of the puzzle pieces altogether until you finally formed an answer to all this.
After a few seconds, you cautiously walked closer to Steven who was standing motionless by his study table. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rests your face against his clothed back. You started breathing Steven in. Finally. You missed hugging him, kissing him, being surrounded by him and of course, everything about Steven.
You heard him let out a deep sigh and felt Steven’s tense shoulders slowly slouching down as if the invisible weight on his shoulders is finally melting away. After a minute of hugging him from behind, Steven turns to face you, but this time with no traces of anger and jealousy on his face. Only the Steven that you knew. Your arms are still wrapped around him and your hands are clutched firmly together behind him. You are sending him a message that you're not going to let him go this time.
"Hi," You greeted him with a soft smile, "Let's talk about it properly this time, alright?"
After a beat, Steven finally nodded and you dragged him to the couch before pulling him down to sit beside you. You cupped his face in your palms and traced his cheekbones. He looked helpless and vulnerable, and this causes you to do it first. You slowly leaned in and presses your lips onto his. Your heart skipped a beat when he immediately responded by meeting you in-between and his hands reaching up automatically to touch your face. You parted your lips and Steven slid his tongue to meet yours before he sucked gently, and the action causes you to emit a soft sound on the back of your throat. Both of you became one by consuming each other sensually after weeks of no kind of interaction.
You missed Steven so much that it pains you to pull away and he chased the ghost of your lips like he still needs more. You reminded yourself that you still need to resolve one thing tonight. You smiled softly and removed the stray curls on his forehead. You rested your forehead against his and stared deeply at his brown eyes.
"Talk to me, Steven Grant."
And finally, Steven did.
Steven started feeling “useless”. He felt like he was just a man in the body who happens to have zero skills at anything. He claimed that he is clumsy, he stutters whenever he’s nervous, he lacks the confidence that Marc and Jake have and he’s got nothing to offer. He became insecure about what he has compared to Marc and Jake: Steven doesn’t have any prior knowledge of fighting, and he fears that one day, Steven might cause damage to you if he didn’t do anything right. He fears that he wouldn’t be able to save you from any harm and that Marc and Jake will blame him for losing you. He loathes himself so much that someone like Steven started thinking that he doesn’t deserve anything, especially you.
So, he did his best to help through another thing, which could be only achieved by persevering in his new work. His new boss is leading him by saying that Steve will get his promotion in no time if Steven can finish all of the dickhead’s backlogs and it should be done before the day ends. If Steven got the promotion, then he would be able to take care of you better and provide you with all of your needs, wants, and most importantly protection.
“Steven,” you stopped him, and he immediately shuts up. his head hangs low in embarrassment, and you hook your finger in his chin up to make eye contact with him. “You know that I love you alright? I love you all equally. I love you as much as I love Marc and Jake. And You are not useless.”
“but—"
“No buts!” you interrupted him, “You are incredibly smart and you, Steven Grant, have everything to offer. If it’s not because of your knowledge about Egypt's history, then we wouldn’t be able to discover where Ammit’s ushabti lies. You helped on beating Harrow and his men, and you were there too when we won the whole thing. You’re giving yourself far less credit just because you think that Marc and Jake are superior when it comes to fighting but the truth is, we would not be here, alive and talking in our flat because of you.”
You cupped his face between your hands. “I love you, Steven Grant. I love you all. You three will never lose me. You don’t have to worry about me because I will always be safe and content with everything that we have in our flat and in this world, only if I am with all three of you here in one piece.”
Before you could even finish your sentence, Steven pulled you into an embrace. You can feel him tightening his arms around you in an almost protective way.
 “Fuck, I’m such a twat,” Steven cursed and you could feel his heart hammering against his chest, “I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry for ignoring you for weeks, making you worry and also for hurting you. I promise I will make it up to you, I’ll do better than being such a mindless twat,” 
“Well then,” You lifted your head away from his chest while still embracing him, you look up at him with a suggestive smirk and a glint in your eyes. You trail your fingers on the outline of his bicep through his black button-up shirt, “Steven Grant, what are you suggesting to make up for your two weeks of ignoring me?”
Steven’s eyes glazed at the suggestion and his pupils are already blown wide, “I have a lot of things in my mind, darling,” He whispered and his voice rough with lust, “We will need the whole night to do all of it.”
You capture his lips with yours and twine your fingers at his curls, both of you are chasing each other hungrily full of passion and yearning. You want him to be closer to you, to feel him inside you, to do all of the things that he has in his mind. You bit his bottom lip hard and it made him groan.
“Good thing baby,” you panted against his lips, “You have the rest of my life.”
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