#moon knight x reader
wysteria-clad · a day ago
calling the moon boys by their name prank:
paring: moon boys x fem! reader; established relationship
a/n: just a quick thing that popped in my head
genre: fluff
"Hey, Steven, can you pass me the remote?"
Steven would be confused for a minute then wondering if you are mad at him.
"Did I do anything wrong?"
"what? No"
"Why did you call me by my name?" he gets the sad puppy look in his eyes, which melts your heart. "I'm your darling" he strides closer to you and hugging you tight.
You hug him back. Of course you tell him it's just a silly prank and apologise cause he looked so hurt for a minute. You call him your darling and kiss him sweetly.
"I'm gonna make some coffee. Marc, do you want coffee?"
"what?" he looks so offended.
"what?" you slide off the bed. Right when your legs are about to touch the floor, he scoops you back by your waist.
"I'm your baby" he buries his face on the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses on your skin.
He pins you down by pressing your hands on the bed. His breath and his slight stubble tickles your neck, making you giggle. He didn't stop until you called him your baby again.
"Jake, what do you want for dinner?"
What the fuck he just heard now?
You usually called him 'papi' in and out of bedroom. Or 'babe'
The moment his name slipped out of your mouth, Jake Lockley was terrified.
Are you angry at him? He hated when you were upset or mad at him. Did he forgot something important?
"Jake?", there it is again. "I asked what you want for dinner", your voice cut off his stream of thoughts.
"Cariño, are you okay?"
"hmm? yeah, why?"
"Nothing" he watches you move round the kitchen, searching for any hints you were upset with him.
"I guess I'll make chicken pot pie"
You seemed fine. His eye brows furrowed. Still, he didn't want to take any risks.
He approaches you from behind, snaking his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.
A wide smile blooms on your face but you don't show it. "You seem to be in a better mood now, Jake"
That's it. He spins you around making you face him. "Why are you not calling me, 'papi'?"
He looks absolutely serious, frown lines appear on his forehead.
You couldn't help but chuckle. "I was just goofing around" you admit with that adorable grin in your face.
He would smile too if he wasn't thinking of your punishment for your little prank. Without any warning, he scoops you up in his sturdy arms making you yelp. He drops you on the couch, his fingers tickling your sides mercilessly.
"Jake, stop!" fits of giggles escapes your lips.
"Hmm, I don't know. That's not what I want to hear now" his fingers run over your ribcage, making you laugh.
"Babe...babe! Stop!" you manage to utter in between your giggles.
"That's better, princesa" his fingers ceases the tickling thankfully.
The wide smile on his face matches yours.
"Papi" you reach out to grab his head and pull his face closer for a kiss, tugging his curls slightly.
He hovers above you, obliging your wish.
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the-archxr · a day ago
Mark Spector just came in me, call that a moon pie
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✨the-archxr thots✨
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graciexmarvel · 2 days ago
You know you need help when you scroll all the way down to the bottom of a hashtag
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multific · a day ago
Our Little Family
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Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x Reader
Summary: A story about a pregnancy. 
Having a baby with three boyfriends was difficult.
Even during your pregnancy, you had difficulties controlling them.
Jake wanted to front so he could protect you and the baby, Steven wanted to front because he was the most gentle one and he argued you needed someone who could keep their cool, and Marc argued that he needed to front because he was the host, he could keep you calm and you had his last name.
And you argued that you needed all three.
"I need Jake so he could keep me safe, last time we went out I nearly fell and he caught me. I need Steven because when I freak out or cry because of the smallest things he knows how to calm me down and I need you Marc as well to be here with all of us, feel the baby grow and then, when they are here, I'll need all three of you again, forever."
How did you do that? How could you calm them down all at once? It was a mystery to them, but they loved you.
Marc built the crib the other day, you had a particularly bad day, sickness wasn't kind to you. Thankfully Steven was there to bring you whatever you needed during the day and Marc build the crib.
"Maybe we should look for a bigger place, with two or three bedrooms." Marc said as he massaged your feet.
"Hmm. But I like it here, since we got the AC, even summer is a lot better."
"I know but when the baby arrives we will need more space and these books. And the fish and then there is your stuff, we should look for somewhere bigger."
Although you knew Marc was right, you also had a strong attachment to this place.
"Maybe we should, but we could wait until the baby is bigger so then I can help you guys with the move." Marc liked that idea and Steven hopped on looking for houses in London as soon as he got the body.
You had a lot of things you liked to do a lot more than before.
You asked them to grow a beard was one, you liked the feeling of it against your skin, it tickled and calmed you somehow. 
You liked to eat weird food which made Steven gag. 
You liked to place things on your belly and balance things, which made Jake extremely anxious.
You liked to go on walks in the middle of the night when Marc just wanted to sleep.
But as your belly grew, they felt the baby kick, there was always a smile on their face as they watched you move around the house.
Then it happened, you went into labour.
It was a quiet day, you were in the middle of getting some snacks while Steven picked a movie when you felt it, the pain and then water running down your legs.
"Umm, Steven?"
"Can you grab my bag please?"
"Why do you need-" as he arrived in the kitchen he saw you holding your side, a puddle under you he panicked. "FUCK! Okay, Love, okay! Marc, take this one please or I'll faint!"
Thankfully Marc was a lot calmer as he drove you to the hospital.
You laid on that bed for five hours, five long hours and you heard that that was a short time compared to other women.
"Sweetheart, I got you a drink." "My Love, I brought you some food, you will need your strength." "Mi Amour, we will stay here with you."
All three tried their best to calm you, they really did, but you were still scared, after all, you were about to pop a human out.
And the pain.
You held their hand at every pain you felt. Squeezing it during the long hours of wait until you were ready to give birth.
"I'm scared." you said, you didn't meant to say it out loud, but sadly you did.
"Amour, you are the strongest woman we know, if you can deal with the three of us, a baby will be nothing. Yes, it will hurt, but as soon as you are holding them in your arms, you'll forget all pain." you looked at Jake, shocked at his reaction, it wasn't his usual way of dealing with these situations, he was rather calm.
"Thank you." he kissed your forehead.
"I just hope the kid looks like me. Steven has a funny nose."
"HEY!" Steven yelled in his head, but you laughed, and that was the whole point, keeping you calm, Marc knew that even when Steven kept huffing and puffing about his nose.
But Jake was right.
As soon as you had your little boy in your arms, you melted, and so did your husbands.
"What will be his name?" asked the doctor as he looked at the small family in front of him. Marc didn't even think of a name.
"Randall." you answered, not taking your eyes off of the baby. "Our little Randall." you whispered and Marc started to softly cry.
The doctor left, Marc spoke up.
"Are you sure about his name?"
"Of course I am. It's a beautiful name and your brother was called the same." then you looked at Marc, with a little panic. "Is it-Is it okay? Was I insensitive? I thought it would be a nice gesture but we can pick a different name." you said as he shook his head and smiled.
"Randall is perfect. Thank you." he said as he kissed your head and then the baby's.
They kept on fighting about who can front just so they can hold him, it got to the point where you had to take him back from them.
"No baby to you misters until you behave like adults." you said as the nurse came in to check on you and show you a couple of tricks.
Soon, you were on your way home, with Jake driving, baby boy safely in his seat, sleeping, for now.
When you arrived back to the apartment, you needed a nap, you felt like you'd fall asleep just standing.
"Go, sleep Love. We will take care of him." said Steven as he helped you to bed. You fell asleep while listening to Steven talk to his son.
When you woke up it was late, your son's crying made you wake up as Marc was trying his best to calm the little boy.
"He must be hungry." you said as he brought him over to you.
And indeed, hungry the little man was.
You smiled as he ate while you looked at Marc.
"Are you okay?" you asked and he nodded.
"I should ask you that, you gave birth not too long ago."
"I'm fine, you are fine, he is fine. We are all fine." you said as you kissed his cheek.
"I know. I just worry."
"As you should, you are a father, after all, that's what fathers do," you said as you watched Marc switch.
"Amour, they did a terrible job, Steven nearly dropped him once." said Jake as he watched his son have his dinner.
"HEY!" Steven yelled again in his head. "I DIDN'T!"
"It's okay, we are all learning here."
You smiled as your son finished, "Grab the-" you didn't even have to finish, Jake already had the cloth put on your shoulder so you could burp your baby. "Thank you."
Yes, this will be a long journey, with the three of them, but as you watched Jake take Randall from you and put him in his little bed before moving to cuddle you back to sleep, you knew you will be able to do this, you could be a happy family.
Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead​ feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs
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dystopian-reverie · 2 days ago
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 \\ 𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩
Title: Loving Marc Spector
Rating: Mature, dark romance and smut, 18+ Minors DNI!!
Content Warnings: fem!reader x Marc Spector, smut, mentions of p in v, rough oral (male and fem receiving), knife play, dark romance, mentions and descriptions of blood, fluff, angst+comfort, alcohol consumption, borderline toxic relationship, choking, a freaky reader (it’s the whole package deal, baby ;)
Summary: Being Marc Spector’s girlfriend wasn’t easy, but you would rather cease to exist than wish it was any other way.
A/n: Honestly, this is just a huge mess of a lifestyle fic that tried to encompass all the darkness and softness that came with dating Marc. I hope you enjoy it :) Oh, and I think this would be a much better read if you're listening to Lana Del Rey, The Neighbourhood, or The Arctic Monkeys.
Tag List: @jakelcckley @wowifinallymadeanaccount (just hmu if you want to be on my taglist)
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It was unlike anything anyone would ever feel in their life.
Loving him was tiring. The way he would clam up the moment you seem to scratch through the surface of his high walls. He wanted you to see the pain and aching, wanted to show it all to you, strip himself bare, but being unable to. So he'd show that he loves you the only way he can- stripping you bare and taking you all to himself and making sure that you know you are his, and only his to take, drowning in the sound of you screaming his name.
Loving him was painful. He'd come back home, bloodied and scarred from another life-draining mission, and when asked why he didn't use his suit's healing power, he'd simply place the medical kit in your hands and drop down on the couch.
You'd feel his muscle tense underneath you, trying not to flinch, his grunts barely escaping his mouth as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs while you toiled away, fixing up his wounds.
"Why do this the hard way?" A question he's heard too many times, paired with those glistening eyes of yours.
"Simply because I can," He'd say, not in any hurry to rush the moment.
Loving him was scary. Eyes of a sinner, the same eyes that held so much potential for care and kindness, boring into you as he ruts into you, tearing cries after cries from your constricted throat. The tight grasp his fingers has over your neck never softens as he uses it as his leverage to make you do whatever he wanted at the moment.
Your legs draped over his shoulders, you'd get reminded quite harshly how Marc wasn't the one who showed mercy when you messed up with each and every thrust.
Loving Marc Spector was your face being raised to meet his, as his eyes, with carnal fascination, closely followed the tears streaming down your cheeks. It was taking in all the pride when he groans out how pretty you looked crying for him. It was not being able to tug on his hair when he closes the little space between you both to lick away the tears, littering kisses all over your face- a soft action while your cunt was being abused over and over, without a break.
It was his calloused thumb stroking your cheeks, spreading the wetness over your hot skin, as his tongue danced against the skin of your neck, leaving scars- a work of art.
Loving him was not knowing what was gonna happen next, a thrill down your spine every time he looks at you with those hooded eyes of his.
Loving him was living in a Lana Del Rey song, accompanied by The Neighbourhood constantly playing around you as the world gets drenched in a black and white filter when he lifts you up and spins you around in the middle of the night. The only time Marc worshipped the moon- when its glow illuminated your laughing face, capturing what he wished he could keep in his eyes forever. Your giggles muffled quickly as he brought you down to meet his lips, kissing you with a tenderness that he rarely showed.
Your fingers would play with his raven locks as your legs wrapped around his waist. He'd hold you up as you caressed him with a tenderness that he never knew.
You'd lose all sense of time looking into those eyes of his, shamelessly mesmerized and deep enough in love to admit you never want to look away.
Marc Spector melted away every bit of inhibition that was left in you, giving you something entirely new. Freedom. For the first time in your life, you felt free. You felt desired and wanted to get drunk in that feeling. You felt all the things that you taught yourself to stash away in a dark corner of your brain, all the things this world had asked you to not feel for that makes you weaker- you felt pretty, you felt beautiful, you felt fragile and yet so safe, you felt the entire cosmos thudding inside your ribcage as his eyes traveled all over your body, his hands following shortly behind.
He showed you a part of yourself that you thought wasn't possible to exist, but yet here you both were, confused beyond limit as to what you both were doing to each other's mind and body, but loving it nevertheless.
Loving him was finally knowing that this was an addiction, this love that you have for Marc Spector was your drug, and you weren't getting clean anytime soon.
A small bedroom, fit for two, only the walls and the bed as witnesses for all the things he did to you.
On some blessed nights, you and Marc would sway along to the music, a bottle of whiskey in one of his hands as his other guided you, and you both would tumble over each other, followed by your fits of slurry giggles.
"Open your mouth, baby," Marc would order, taking a swing from his bottle. You'd obey, as usual, like the good little girl he always said you were and feel the wetness of the alcohol being poured into your mouth, gulping it softly as it burned your throat.
Marc would catch that one drop that slid down your chin with the tip of his tongue and lick it all the way up to your mouth, soon engulfing both of you in a heated kiss, all tongue, and teeth.
Loving him hurts so good. When your knees ache from all the friction the floorboard was creating as your throat struggled to take all of him inside. He would hold your head still with a fistful of your hair in his grasp, fastening his pace as his cock moved in and out of your mouth. His filthy moans, praises, swears, and words would make it all worth it. Yet again, he'd slowly trace his finger over your cheeks as your tears adorned them, glistening. They were his rewards, a sight you knew he craved for.
On especially cruel afternoons, his eyes would narrow down on you, a dark shadow cast over them that made your skin tingle. He would be drenched in the smell of sweat and liquor, yet his stand was unwavering and on guard all the time. His lips turned up into a snarl as he contemplates how to sting you with his words again, his mind twisted as the alcohol continues to mess his head.
You'd try not to cry, not to yell at him, to maintain your composure at all times.
"Why do you make caring for you so hard, Marc?" Your voice would tremble, trying to keep together what was left of your sanity.
"If it's so damn hard, maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place," His words cut you up.
"Ever thought about it that way? Hmm?" He advanced toward you, the stench of alcohol clouding your senses. "Maybe you should pack it up and leave me to it because I don't seem to need you, do I?"
"You don't mean that," Your voice was no more than a whisper, trying to sound confident and restraining the doubt and sorrow seeping through.
He let out a breathy laugh. Tracing the outline of your face and tugging a strand of loose hair behind your ears, he lowered himself down to your face.
"Oh baby, how would a girl stupid enough to stay with me know what I mean and what I don't," Even while gutting you through his words, his habit of playing with that single track of tear didn't change. He stroked your now tear-stained cheek as he studied you.
"What if every single 'I love you' I've ever told you was a lie?"
Everything inside you would snap all at once as you pushed him back and walked as fast as you could to the bathroom, locking the door swiftly and turning on the shower so it could drown out your sobs. You'd sink down to the floor, your head between your legs.
At times like these, you didn't know how many times you could remind yourself that this was his intrusive thoughts talking, not him. This was a product of his trauma, not the part of him that's working through it. But it still stings, it still hurts like someone was drowning your freshly wounded body inside the salt water.
It wasn't until late at night, that he'd crawl back home to you, with the weight of his words butchering him inside.
He'd find you curled up on the couch, passed out from exhaustion. Stirring from your sleep, you'd be met with a man on the verge of breaking down in front of you. Propping yourself up groggily, you'd see him through your puffy eyes.
His face would contort in pain, as he fell to his knees beside you, making you fully sit up. Tears would cloud his eyes as he looked down to hide them from you, but not having much control of them.
"Baby, I am so-" His words would get caught in his throat as a sob threatens its way out of him. Apologising wasn't Marc's best area.
A few seconds would pause with neither of you saying anything. You'd see the man crouching in front of you, probably in more pain than most people can imagine.
"Please don't hate yourself," You whispered, ripping away a sob from him.
He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. "Baby I didn't mean a single word I said," He shook his head, crawling closer to you, afraid touching you anywhere was more than what he deserved.
"It's just, sometimes, my mind, it forces me to think stuff like that, and I was drunk, I couldn't think clearly and I got the darkness to get the better of me. I didn't mean any of that,"
He would go on for minutes together, trying to make you understand how none of that was supposed to happen and how sometimes his mind tries to get rid of anything that gives him happiness.
With a promise of working through it together and both of you patching up each other through words of kindness and assurance, you and Marc would pass out on the couch, holding each other close with a newfound hope that one day, everything would be fine and neither of you would have to get hurt like that again.
Caring for him was exhaustive. But you did it anyway, and you'd do it over and over and over. There were things about each other that neither of you understood. You'd often feel his curious eyes follow you wherever you went, and when you finally looked at him with raised eyebrows and asked him what was wrong, you'd always be met with the same question or other variations of it.
"Why do you even put up with me?"
"I love you, and I find that love worth enough to be with you through everything- the good and the bad" You'd smile simply, not understanding the waves of storms crashing against that man's heart.
Marc Spector was not a man used to feeling loved, you knew that, and you were going to do everything in your power to change that.
Loving him was corrupting you. Venturing into the darkest and deepest parts of yourself was something you prohibited yourself from doing, but when Marc came into your life, all of that changed.
All of your wildest fantasies and desires ran wild whenever he was in your vicinity, and he'd always know. His lips curling into a smirk, he'd wait you out, trying not to make the first move and he sees you through his side vision as you try to not get lost in your thoughts, blushing and trying desperately to ground yourself.
Realizing that his hypersexuality was slowly seeping into your character was terrifying at first, always thinking about taking him all to yourself as you both devour each other whenever you so much as looked at him leaning against the wall. But as time went on, you both decided to temporarily push away the problematic part of hypersexuality and indulge in all the pleasure it offered.
His hands would be snaking behind your waist in no time as both of you crashed into each other within moments of prolonged eye contact. A hundred different ways to explore and push each other's limits, to bring one another to the brink of life and beyond.
Straddling his thighs, grinding against his bulge as his fingers brush over your lips, watching his eyes slowly but hungrily grazing over all of you- everything about the two of you was more than intoxicating.
There was something so incredibly poetic about this love, something so tragic and erotic, so strong and alluring that even thinking about getting out of this burned you from inside.
At times, things that shouldn't happen, according to Marc, do happen, such as you getting stuck in the crossfire in one of his missions.
It was during moments like those you get to see Marc's feral rage that didn't spare anyone who went against him. He wouldn't just 'knock them over', he'd hurt them, bad. And as much as you knew that shouldn't invoke any emotion other than fear, you couldn't help but get enticed by watching that.
He'd be covered in blood, a little bit of his own, and a lot of his enemies, by the time he's done with them, he'd turn around to look back at you, looking at him with something that was not fear. Then it struck him- you weren't as innocent as he initially thought you were. And boy did it rile him up.
Dragging you into a dark alley where there was no chance of anyone getting a glimpse of all the sinful things about to happen, he takes his time studying you to see how this part of him made you react.
He'd bring his hand in front of your face; fresh, gleaming blood on his fingers, lingering inches away from your skin. Your breath hitched on your windpipe as he stroked his thumb against your cheek, smearing the thick liquid on you. The metallic scent, adding on to everything that was going on, was overwhelming your senses.
"Marc," You moaned as he cupped your face, getting all the blood on you. You brought your hand to his own face, tracing all the blood smears, some even from his own wounds.
Pulling him closer to you, you brought your lips near his cheeks, hovering just above them. You could feel his breath, hot and uneven on your neck, adding to the heat gathering down at your cunt.
It was a small peck on his cheek at first, as his hands traveled down your sides, grabbing you tighter and getting blood all over your dress. Then you kissed him all over his face, licking and sucking under his jawline, feeling them clench and release as he basked in a sinister glory.
He knew he damn well shouldn’t do what he was about to, but seeing you dancing on the edge of a darkness so engulfing, his fingers fished out a pocket knife. As soon as you caught up to what he was doing, your heart beat sped up, pounding against your chest, anticipation burning in the pit of your stomach as to what he was going to do.
It wasn’t long before you felt the cold press of the metal against your cheek, grazing ever so lightly as he traced it across your features, watching you intently as he did so.
You didn’t know what has gotten into you, everything was spinning and spiralling down, and all you could think of was Marc and all the malicious things he was doing to you.
Ever so slowly, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, earning a raised eyebrow from him, followed by a dark chuckle that turned your insides upside down. The silver, shining in the dark, brushed ever so softly against your lips before meeting your tongue. A swift and tender lick to the metal was all it took for Marc to finally snap, something dangerous and disturbing awakening inside him.
He withdrew the blade from your mouth and held it against your neck, forcing you to arch your head back. Beautiful. This was all so wrong. Both of you knew you should stop this, but never did. Marc proceeded to fuck you raw, his one hand gripping your thigh that was wrapped around his hips, and the other one holding the knife in its place.
This damned side of him, one that he swore he would never reveal to anyone, let alone the love of his life, was finally being seen, scratch that, was being engulfed wholly, and he loved it. He loved every fucking second of it. He was never letting you go. Never.
Loving him was handing over your trust and power. This was something you and Marc both had problems with at the beginning. Neither of you was used to trusting people so completely that your mind could just finally calm down and rest for some time.
The compulsive urge to be in control of every situation was what brought you two together in the first place, driving you insane. And before you knew it, you both took the battle to the bed, trying to get control of each other.
Your arms would be bruised with the way he gripped you, holding you back from toppling him to his side as you tried to take the upper hand.
Your nails had dug deep into his toned frame, dragging them down and earning a deep growl that invoked something filthy in you.
It took some time for both of you to trust each other with your vulnerability, to finally succumb to the desire to be taken apart completely and put back together.
The first time Marc ever handed his power over to you- a day you'd never forget. Tears pooled in his eyes as he shut them tight, drowning in the pleasure of being taken care of for once. Shaky breaths and sweaty bodies, your moans, and whispers of assurance, praising him and spilling love everywhere as you rode him.
Your fingers moved in and out of his mouth as he tried to keep his wide eyes trained on you, but he couldn't stop them from rolling back at times- such a pretty sight. All hinted to him that maybe, just maybe, this was the part of his life where he can finally unwind.
He trusted you, and that single realization brought about unfamiliar waves of emotions crashing around him.
Loving him was adrenaline coursing through your veins. Marc was a dangerous man, and at times when life seemed to be sunshine and daisies with his adorable alter, you seem to forget that.
The split second in which he can grab a gun and change the course of the fight, his eyes trained on his target like a hawk as his mind contemplated about a hundred different ways to end this.
Loving him was rushing to the getaway car and starting the vehicle for him to slide beside you hastily as your both drove away from danger, hearts pounding and all your senses heightened. Marc would always be on extra edge when you were with him because he'd raise hell if anything happens to you. Having you with him didn't help him on his missions at all, but when you were dragged into the middle of all this, he had no choice but to do this with you.
Surprisingly, it didn't take a heavy toll on you, like how he'd expected. But what did he know? After all, you did fuck him like a filthy slut in a back alley, both of you covered in blood and sweat, with a goddamn knife to your throat.
Loving him meant getting pushed against the wall, having your chin grabbed harshly, making you look up at him as he scolds you, asking you to be more careful and smarter.
The wild, wild glare of his set on the guy who tried to harm you as he proceeded to beat him to half death, stopped only because you stepped in. Eyes and actions of a maniac as soon as he felt like his girl was in danger.
He’d grab your wrists a bit too tight as he checked you for wounds, making sure you were alright in his own ways, despite you reassuring him several times.
You could see the single vessel pulsating on his forehead, all the veins on his arms popping out, glistening from the sweat. His wet hair clung to his forehead as he'd look around, making sure you were alone before giving you a proper punishment for worrying him like that.
You knew you'd follow this man to the end of the Earth, that was the kind of chokehold he had over you. This love was no joke.
Loving him was discovering the soft pleasures. Being Marc Spector's girlfriend, it was rare for you to find a dull moment, and that's why they were so precious for both you and Marc.
Lazy afternoons with both of you doing absolutely nothing but wasting away time, laying on the bed, talking about this and that- the kind of peace and calm Marc had never even dared to wish for.
You'd both buy random things for each other while coming back home, from ice creams to flowers, from fridge magnets to donuts, from a hardcover special edition book that you've been eyeing for weeks to a thin bracelet, or a small pendant to add to that pretty chain of his.
You never let yourself dream about love, for fear of what would happen if you never get to feel that in real life. But you felt it, warm and fuzzy, like a blanket covering you from head to toe in a warm embrace. When Marc massaged your back to release those tension, it mostly lead to both of you fucking on the mattress, slow and deep, pressing every inch of each other's body as the ache oozed away.
Everything was so raw with Marc. From fucking to loving. So unfiltered to the point you were sure that this is what your life was meant to be. When the soft moments come around, you hold on to them, cherishing them forever.
Loving him was poetic. Marc was never a man of words. He was not as smooth as Jake or as heart-melting as Steven, he knew that. He'd look at you, sleeping peacefully beside him, safe in his warm embrace and his heart would ache with all the love that he has for you, but can't get you to see it.
On one of those incredibly frustrating times, he'd finally found his voice. Grabbing your waist and earning a light gasp from you as he interrupted your chore, he held your face so that you couldn't look at anything but him.
For some time, he did nothing but hold you close, taking all of you in; your face, your soft hands perched over his shoulders, his hands perfectly sitting on the curve of your waist, your scent, your hair framing your face.
"I was just a shell of a man who didn't know if I wanted to live or die when I first met you," He said. This was so out of character for him, he realized, as he watched your eyebrows furrow.
He placed his finger on your lips as you opened your mouth to say something.
"Listen to me, baby. But now, you make me want to burn down this whole world if it means I could live with you,"
Too stunned to speak, you let his words sink in as a smile dawned on your face. Marc was only ever used to getting you flustered by his actions, through sex and touch. But now, seeing a bright red bloom on your cheeks, all because he finally decided to let you know how he felt, he tasted paradise.
"You scare me. Your love, this love, scares me," He said. "But the heaven be damned if I'd ever leave you." Placing his forehead on yours, he was only hoping that he wasn't being too cheesy and scaring you away. But all of that nervousness melted away as you flung your arms around him, collecting him in a warm embrace, one that warmed both of your souls and body.
He was poetry. Everything about him was pure, enthralling, poetry. The way the morning light would hit his face and his bare body was the first thing you saw every day you woke up made your heart full.
Holding his palm in yours as he finally opened up to you, a strong feat that even he didn't know was possible- poetry.
The way his smile adorned his face, his eye crinkles appearing more profound as a genuine laugh would encase you in a warm bubble, a melody to your ears- poetry.
The way he was in the middle of getting the fourth orgasm out of you that night, with his fingers and tongues working miracles on you as you lay there, a sobbing, sweating, and panting mess under him, basking in his praises and commands- poetry.
Marc Spector was the love of your life. There was so much love to give, and so much to take. This love was how you started living, and this love was going to be the death of you. There is only Love & Lust and Love & Lust and Love & Lust...
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rebornlunar · 2 days ago
summary: through everything. through every mistake. through every isolation, you still put up with jake lockley. and it makes him wonder why, after everything, as people call him a monster, you’re still here.
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“you’re a piece of shit, jake.” was all you heard through the closed shutter. the only thing standing between you and an angry man.
through their tone, you knew it was marc. not only that but through his language that he used. steven wouldn’t be the one to use such foul language. he would rather use his actions to show much someone has pissed him off than say it.
as you sat on the bed, your legs crossed on top of one another, you slouched down while you waited for the shutter to open. though a part of you was scared when it did. if it did.
this wasn’t the only moment you seemed to hear marc angrily yell into the mirror. especially to jake. as jake didn’t seem to care as much, surely his words and actions toward you from jake seemed to mean something to marc. he didn’t care if he didn’t talk to you, but one word of disrespect and it marc couldn’t seem to put up with it.
night came to be. and as the door shutter opened between the flat and the bathroom, you caught jake exit out.
you knew what time it was. it was dark outside, and you knew it was his time to depart from you until sunrise. but for a small reason, for some reason, you had a need of a word to get out of you to him.
god forbid he takes it. but a desire in you wanted it to be taken. at least to be said.
“está equivocado.” you said as he walked passed you. about to reach for the door, he stopped. he stopped. for a moment you surely believed he would just walk out, take another night out to drink, to drive, to isolate himself from you.
but he didn’t. slowly, he just turned around his body, his head mostly to look at you. the only light that seemed to vaguely create his figure was the nightlight that glowed besides you. even that only seemed to shine across his face mostly.
but it’s all you needed so you could see his eyes. filled with such confusion, an emotion that was complex that you didn’t fully seemed to understand.
and you really wish you did. that you could go inside his head. so that you could fully understand who the man in front of you was. so you could understand what made him so different than the others. what distinctively made you stay with him, after everything.
though you thought he would say something sweeter. nothing sweet ever came from this man. his touches were tense, even if he never enjoyed touching you. his words were nothing more as if you were just another person in his home.
he was nothing more than just a man living in your home. and still, you had empathy for him.
his eyes raised to look at you, throwing back a response you knew you would soon receive, “no me conoces.”
that was true. you didn’t know him. you barely knew him. you didn’t know what he liked. you didn’t know what he disliked. you didn’t know how jake lockley came to be. all you knew is that he was the protector. and he would do anything for marc and steven. anything.
but for you, you doubted for a long, long time. at this point you believed that he didn’t care about you. but still, you cared about him. even if he came with blood across his body, even if he came home tired, you promised yourself you would still be with him.
and he hated it. god, how he hated it. your kind words. your kind acts of service. he didn’t deserve a woman taking care of him. he didn’t do anything for you, he didn’t know you. to him you were just a woman sharing a home with him.
and with that, it was enough to isolate himself from you.
you didn’t know him. he didn’t know you. but just with his actions. just with his small mumbles of words, you knew the type of man jake made himself perceive to be.
fidgeting with your fingers, you scraped under your nails repeatedly, trying to clear your nervousness of talking to this man that was nothing but a ghost in your house. and which you answered back, “sé suficiente."
you were foolish to say that. again, you knew barely anything about the man that stood in front of you.
the same was with you. jake knew nothing about yiu. all he knew himself is that he hated your words, he hated your actions and he knew that you knew that too. so, why, out of all places you still chose to be here. with him. you still chose to stay here, though you barely knew the man.
“por qué me aguantas?” jake questioned, taking a few steps closer to you as he pushed his upper body closed. furrowing his brows, he shook his head.
you furrowed your own brows as he asked that question. “que?”
it was a question that was easily understood, easily comprehensible. but one that was too complex to answer, even for you, especially with this man. why did you put up with him? why are you still here with him?
holding up his shoulders for a moment, he looked away from you, like he was waiting for someone else to answer with a clear response. like he so desperately needed to hear an answer that he could fully understand. one he could fully comprehend.
“no entiendo por qué, después todo, sigues aquí. me seguiste hasta aquí. he said. through these words you somehow began to see the man jake mickey was.
and his words were true. they were what he has been wanting to say every since he met you.
after everything. after every mistake, after each night that he came home bloody, with someone blood all over his hands, after each night that he came home angry at the world that he had to see humanity take another reckless hit on innocent lives, when he truly believed that we humans could not go deeper in our own shit.
after everything he still came home to your words of worry, to your actions of healing. despite everything. the anger, the worry, the isolation, the spite, you’re still here putting up with him.
how could he deserve that? how could you look at him and continue to do what you did each and every night he came back.
you stared at him. you wanted to respond with something more meaningful. something more impactful. but the words, “entre todos, solo hay uno de usted. por eso aguanté al resto. y por eso te aguanto. no importa qué." these were the words that circled around your head.
now, they would come to sound stupid. but they were the ones you chose. why? because despite everything, you stayed with marc. despite everything, you stayed with steven. why couldn’t you do the same with jake. though he didn’t seem to want it. you would try. though he pushed you away, you couldn’t let him leave without knowing that you, out of all people you, you were always going to be there for him.
no matter what. he was a part of you. a part of your life. one that you didn’t seem to fully acknowledge. but he has always been there.
pushing yourself off the bed, you stood up. not taking your eyes off of his, you couldn’t let this night be different than the others.
“no me importa que me alejes,” the words crept into his ears. “solo quiero que sepas que me preocupo por ti.” though it was only worry, that it will always be worry, it was enough for him to know that there was someone who cared about him.
and he wished you said everything so differently. the entire opposite is what he wished you said. that you didn’t care about him. that you didn’t worry. that you hated him as much as he hated you.
but you didn’t.
and for the first time, in a long time, your words made him feel human. like he wasn’t just a life here in this world with no purpose. but a life that had impacted another. a life that you would come to cherish for the rest of your life.
coming to look down at the floorboard, he softly nodded before turning away from you.
and when he did, he reached for the door like he meant to in the beginning. turning over to look at you one last time, he softly spoke in a tone you never thought you would believe and whispered, “gracias.” before he walked out, shutting the door.
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howaboutcastiel · a day ago
Set the Record Straight (Steven Grant x Reader)
RATED 18+ minors get out
Summary: In the heat of an argument you imply that Steven is a pushover. He doesn’t take kindly to this, and he defies all your expectations in proving you wrong.
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Word count: 4.7k
Content: smut, lots of sass, dirty talk from your fave Steven Grant, softdom!Steven, punishment kinda but it’s pretty vanilla (reader is fem bodied but I always try to keep language gender neutral where possible)
A/N: this is MY reward for reaching 200 followers. Poorly written, filthy smut. Enjoy losers.
Very not proof read. Also I’m asexual so you better eat this shit up.
It was the second time this month that you’d had to cancel date night with Steven. Donna had put him on inventory again, supposedly as a consequence for poor sales and for trying to info-dump on his customers. He had promised you that he would reschedule, but you were tired of your plans being upended. In your mind, Steven was letting Donna walk all over him and you were tired of being the one to face the brunt of the consequences.
“I don’t care that you’re going to take care of rescheduling!” You snapped at Steven as he waited for his morning tea to brew. “We shouldn’t have to be rescheduling in the first place!”
“Love, I’m sorry!” He pleaded with you, still barely awake, “You know how Donna can be. She’s impossible!”
“She’s not impossible, Steven. It’s just that you won’t stand up to her. You’re not even breaking any bloody museum rules. You need to call her on her bullshit punishments.”
“What, and risk losing my job? I’m a gift-shopist, not the bloody Queen of Sheba.” He took an aggressive bite of his breakfast wrap, throwing his work bag over his shoulder.
“You’ve got to stop being scared of her. She’s not going to fire you, as much work as she already puts on you now. Just stop letting her take advantage of you. Be a man, honey.”
Steven’s expression changed instantly at your last add-on. Be a man. What a low blow. You felt guilty as soon as you said it, but you were too upset about your canceled date to admit that. He raised his eyebrows, resigning the conversation as he poured his tea into his thermos. He didn’t look at you again as he made his way out of the apartment door.
“I’ll make the reservation for tomorrow, love. Have a nice day at work.” Now you really felt guilty. You didn’t respond to him, instead watching in silence as he closed the door behind him. You focused on making your own breakfast, running late on your morning routine due to your argument.
By the time you walked back through your apartment door at nightfall, you’d nearly forgotten about your fight with Steven. Sure, you remembered that he was on inventory tonight and that your date was pushed back to tomorrow, but you’d conveniently forgotten the part where you’d basically called your boyfriend a pushover.
So you were fairly unbothered as you made yourself a frozen TV dinner, curling up to watch sitcoms on the couch as you waited for Steven’s late arrival. You even texted him to ask if he needed you to make something for dinner, but you figured he was too busy scanning merchandise to respond. You were also unbothered by his normal, cheery demeanor as he finally arrived home an hour later than you. Perhaps he’d forgotten your argument, too.
No harm done then. Or so you thought.
“Evening, darling!” Steven cooed as he walked through the apartment door, a box of Chinese food in hand. At least he’d gotten himself dinner after all. You were focused on the sitcom on screen, not even turning to look at him as you patted the couch cushion beside you, motioning him over.
“How was work, Love?” You inquired, reflexively wrapping your arm around his shoulder as he settled next to you. “Besides being on inventory, I mean.”
“It was good.” He pulled at your blanket so that you were both under it. The screen turned to commercial, and you finally focused your attention on him fully. “Pretty uneventful, really. Except I found more gum in the pyramid again.”
As you turned to him, you noticed immediately that he was holding himself differently. It was a subtle change, not even out of the ordinary for Steven, but his demeanor didn’t exactly match his words as he recalled his day. His eyes were heavy, pupils blown as if he’d been drinking. But there was no hint of alcohol on his breath—his cheeks weren’t flushed and his speech wasn’t sloppy. Something was different though. He looked a bit… frenzied. He almost looked angry.
“Someone really needs to put up a glass or something.” You didn’t mention to him that you noticed his odd mood. It was obvious that he was trying to conceal his feelings. After all, the change was so subtle that you didn’t know what to make of it anyway. You could almost have been imagining it.
“Yeah, suppose they could find that somewhere in the museum budget, couldn’t they?” He took a large bite of his dinner, letting the conversation drop. Neither of you were particularly interested in it, anyway. Steven’s mind was certainly somewhere else, though you had no idea where.
There was silence between you as he finished his dinner. Not an awkward quiet, filled at least by the mindless sitcom showing on the telly. Steven said nothing as he scraped at the bottom of his box, tossing it in one swift motion to the bin beside his desk. He took you in his embrace, cuddling you as he did every other night after work. He held you ever so slightly tighter, though, and your suspicion about his mood lingered in your mind.
Steven let out a dramatic sigh as the end credits finally rolled across the screen. It was a part of your nightly routine. Steven would make a pretend drama of getting up off the couch, attempting to amuse you after a long day at work. He would go brush his teeth while you changed into your pajamas, then the two of you would switch places. Half of the nights would end with the two of you cuddling until you fell asleep. The other half included some cheekier activities. Judging by the way Steven’s eyes lingered on you as he made his way to the bathroom sink, tonight would be falling into that latter half.
There was nothing particularly racy about the intimacy that you shared with Steven. You were both gentle and patient and fairly easily satisfied. You never felt the need to do much experimenting in the bedroom. Steven in particular was very respectful of your boundaries. He tended to let you lead him where you wanted.
That being said, he surely knew how to rile you up. Tonight was no exception to that fact. Considering Steven’s already pent-up state as he exited the bathroom—coupled with his notice of your especially revealing pajamas—you had no doubt he was going to do everything in his power to get you worked up.
You didn’t even know how right you were. You had no idea what was going on in that brain of his. If only you’d remembered your argument from this morning, you might have had an inkling of what was going to be happening next.
After brushing your teeth, you emerged from the bathroom to find Steven in his T-shirt and boxers. At this point it was evident that he was more excited than usual, his eyes followed you everywhere as you made your way around the room. From the moment your knees touched the bed, Steven’s hands were on your body, his lips colliding with yours more feverishly than you were used to. He made quick work of moving his mouth down along your jaw and neck, eliciting soft gasps from you.
“What’s gotten into to you, honey?” You asked through uneven breaths. He looked up at you with a drunken gaze, an almost devious grin on his lips. “You’re very intense right now. That’s not like you.”
He was deceptively calm and sweet as he coaxed you down into the deep softness of the mattress. Steven planted small kisses along your neck, sprinkling you with pet names and peppering red and purple spots all across your throat. He was almost more generous than he normally was, massaging your chest and arms with the tips of his fingers.
You melted into his kiss, relaxing your muscles into the smooth surface of the bed. You stroked his biceps with your palms, feeling his skin tense across them as he grew more energetic, more wired. It was intoxicating, feeling him and seeing him like this. You didn’t know what was going to happen now. Steven had never had this… attitude with you before. He was usually assertive and decisive, but he held you with an unfamiliar strength. Almost an aggression.
Suddenly, he paused. His eyes were cold, yet genuine as they locked with your own.
“No, it’s not like me, is it?” Suddenly his hands were on yours, holding you firm against the mattress. You felt an unfamiliar tinge of excitement, but you were confused. His voice was teasing. “No, not like pitiful little Steven. He’s not intense about anything, now is he? I’m just trying something new, darling. Isn’t that what you said you wanted? You told me to—what was it—be a man?”
Heat pooled at the tips of your ears and cheeks. Your mind rushed back to the argument this morning. Of course that’s what this was about. What was Steven trying to do, prove his manliness to you? No. He was more than comfortable in his masculinity. So this must be something else. He was proving a point. Being a man. In the cheekiest, pettiest, sexiest way that he could. He would show you what a man he was.
“I didn’t mean it like that—” You instinctively tried at damage control. Steven shushed you, a condescending tone in his voice. He peered at you with fake innocence, hands still pressing you into the bed.
“I’m not trying to pick a fight, darling. I’m just trying to give you what you want. You want me to stand up for myself, don’t you, love? Don’t you want me to take control of my life?”
The devilish expression on his face sent fire down between your legs. He intended to take control and that was exciting enough. But it was more than that. He intended to punish you for your statement this morning. For your implication that he wasn’t man enough for you. He couldn’t let a jab like that slide. Not when you both knew that it wasn’t true.
“I do.” You managed to reply in an exasperated breath. That was all it took for Steven to press his lips into yours, kissing you with fervor as you struggled underneath his grip. You were apprehensive about what he was going to do, even borderline scared. But you were also very turned on by his new demeanor, and you trusted him to not take things too far.
He continued his innocent act as he moved his mouth down to the collar of your shirt. Steven massaged circled into your skin, gasping at the way you tried to grind up into him. His mouth was deceptively sweet. At first.
“I want to make you feel so good.” He murmured the words between kisses to your neck. “Make you satisfied so you’ll have no doubt who you belong to. You’re not even going to be able to walk tomorrow, darling. I’m going to show you I’m not the pushover you think I am.”
“I don’t think you’re a pushover.” You were almost delirious at this point. You stared down at him with what could only be described as hunger, taking in his ravishing appearance on top of you. His eyes were tightly closed as he sucked a purple mark on the top of your collarbone. You wanted to snake your fingers through his hair, to tug at the curls as you guided his head where you wanted it. But you knew he wasn’t going to let you do that. Not tonight.
He lifted himself slightly at your denial of his words. Opening his eyes, he raised his chin so that he was staring down at you, patronizing.
“Oh, it’s okay, love. You don’t need to save face for my sake. It’s my fault that you think so little of me. I haven’t done enough to prove you wrong. To fulfill your need for a big, strong man. I’m gonna change that right now.”
God, he was going to drive you insane. And he knew it.
It was surprising how gently he could use his authority. He grabbed a fistful of your shirt, guiding you up into a sitting position without ever having to tug on the fabric. He lifted your hands above your head and there was no point in fighting his grasp—even though he never guided them with more than a nudge. He raised your shirt with equal care, tugging it gently but confidently over your head until it no longer touched your skin.
“Steven—” You barely got a breath out before he was kissing you again, one hand on your bare chest and the other behind your neck, holding you close. It was only serving as a warning; there was no force behind his grip. But there was no mistaking your situation, you weren’t going anywhere he didn’t want you to.
You tugged at his shirt, feeling exposed as he was still underneath a layer of clothing. He gave no reaction to your thrashing at the cotton, continuing to kiss you as if your movements were insignificant. Steven’s fingers danced gingerly over the skin of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Unsatisfied with his lack of response to you, you decided to put your hands somewhere he couldn’t ignore.
Steven caught your wrist in the tight grasp of his hand before you had even made contact with the fabric of his boxers. He let out a quiet tsk against your lips, his grip aggressive against your soft skin.
“Oh? Impatient are we darling?” He leaned back, separating you from his touch apart from his control of your hand. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure you get what you need. Lie back, baby.”
You hesitated at his words. He didn’t move to undress himself, he just stared at you with an impatient pride. He seemed disappointed that you didn’t follow his request.
“I said lie down.” His tone was sweet and his voice was barely audible, but his words were most certainly an order. And you were not about to disobey. You quickly positioned yourself on your back, not breaking eye contact with him. Once your shoulders made contact with the sheets, Steven surveyed your body with a marvelous thirst.
You had to resist the urge to push at his arms as he slid your pajamas slowly down your legs. He had bought you the matching set a short while ago, admitting it to be a selfish gift. Steven surely appreciated the clothes, but he was much more satisfied as their removal revealed what he considered to be the world’s greatest work of art underneath. The articles had barely made contact with the floor when he was already planting kisses on your thighs. He wrapped his strong arms around your hips, preventing you from bucking into him. Steven gracefully lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder, effectively restraining you in his muscular grasp.
Steven had a lot of practice with this. He was always insistent on making you feel good and sometimes that required a bit of work on his part. He’d become pretty experienced in eating you out. It was one of his favorite things to do. But you thought that this was supposed to be a punishment. There must be some kind of catch.
“Look at you, already so excited for me.” You jerked underneath him as he pressed his thumb into your clit, but his strong hold ensured that you didn’t move far. He let out a soft chuckle at your desperation. You whimpered as he slowly pushed his middle finger into you, fumbling fruitlessly under his grip. He was moving at an excruciating pace; you all but screamed as he curled the digit upward inside of you.
“Now, darling, just let me know if you need anything.” The cheekiness had returned to his voice. He said nothing else as he added a second finger, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Without warning, his mouth joined in on the work of his hand. His tongue was capable of unspeakable things. You felt a steady wave of pleasure rising in the pit of your stomach, clouding your thoughts and focusing your senses on only one thing.
“Steven—baby, please—” You brain failed to form coherent sounds, the words more reminiscent of whimpers and moans. You weren’t normally one for swearing, but the only words filling your brain were expletives and pet names for your Steven. He seemed more than satisfied at your utter undoing.
“What’s that, Love?” He moved his mouth away only an inch to mutter the words against your glistening skin. “You’re going to have to speak more clearly.”
He was certainly enjoying himself. You felt your orgasm building at record speed and there was no way you would be able to hold yourself back any longer. You racked your brain desperately for a way to warn him, still struggling to make your mouth work in sync with your thoughts.
“Don’t stop.” Was all you managed to produce between your string of whines and swears directed toward him. He obliged your request, steadying his pace and persisting in working his fingers alongside his wonderful mouth. Pleasure ripped through you as you reached your tipping point, practically screaming Steven’s praises. He moaned against you at the sounds of your enjoyment.
It was then that you realized the catch. Steven’s pace persisted as you rode out your orgasm, not stopping to let you rest or breathe. It was too much for you, the stimulation between your legs. You felt as though an electric current was running through you, taking your breath.
“Baby, no.” You tried weakly to push him off of you, but you knew that your strength was no match for his. Your legs burned against his skin as he continued pumping his fingers, his mouth working with remarkable agility. “That’s enough.”
“Nonsense.” He pulled away for barely a moment. You couldn’t hold back your squirming, though he held you in place with little effort. “I’ve got to make sure you’re thoroughly satisfied. What kind of man am I if I don’t even take good care of you?”
“I get your point!” You gasped, pushing again at his head and arms. At anything you could reach to force him away. You could feel a second orgasm growing and you were conflicted between chasing the pleasure and resisting the overstimulation. Suddenly, Steven stopped all of his moments, pulling away from you and sitting up straight. You felt a mixture of relief and longing at the loss of contact.
“That’s great, love. But I’ve got another one to make.”
Well fuck.
As he leaned back, the bulge underneath his boxers became visible to you. Steven was nothing if not patient, though you knew that he must be uncomfortable. All you could do was lay there and pant, your body struggling to regain its strength. Steven waited for you to steady your breath.
“I need you to get up.” He cooed. “You’re gonna put that mouth to good use. You know, besides expressing your disappointment with me.”
This time, the sarcasm was nowhere to be found. In fact, Steven was eyeing you with mild concern, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was going too far. But you weren’t going to stop him. You were captivated by the change of pace, and ironically enough, you were loving his assertion of control over you, no matter how petty it had begun.
There was a slight problem, though. While Steven was quite experienced when it came to oral, you were much less versed in using your mouth to give him pleasure. That was mostly due to the fact that Steven would never ask it of you; he never wanted to feel like he was being selfish or taking advantage of you. You had tried to explain that you wanted to do it, but he would only ever say yes if you agreed to let him return the favor afterward. You guessed things were going to work a bit out of order this time.
“On your knees, darling.” His voice was soothing, coaxing you more than commanding. You followed his order shakily, your body all but wrecked already from the ‘points’ that he was trying to make. Steven threw a pillow on the floor as something to protect your bare knees from the hardwood. At least to him punishment wasn’t synonymous with pain, it seemed.
“I’m not very good at this,” you blurted as he moved to stand in front of you, his clothed erection only a few inches from your face. You didn’t want to disappoint him, you wanted always to make him feel good. A lump formed in your throat in anticipation and Steven met you with a comforting half-smile.
“Don’t worry about it.” He cooed, placing one hand at the nape of your neck. With the other he stroked your cheek gingerly, grazing your skin with his knuckles. “Just relax. I’ll guide you through it. And I’ll be sure not to hurt you. You’re gonna do great. I promise.”
You felt yourself blush as he turned his hand over, pulling down your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. A shaky breath escaped the tiny gap between your lips, and Steven pushed your chin up to keep you from dropping away from his gaze. He sank his thumb deeper into your mouth, moaning at the hot wet feeling against his skin. By now, precum was forming a spot on his boxers and you wondered how he managed to remain so patient.
He withdrew his hand from your face, instead using it to finally pull out his length. Just the sight sent a sharp wave of heat down to your already abused core, re-clouding the senses of yours that Steven had already wrecked. You knew your face was bright red as he slowly stroked his hand from base to tip. His hold tightened slightly on your neck, almost as a gesture of reassurance.
“Okay, baby,” he spoke at nearly a whisper. “Open your mouth for me.”
He sank in slowly, testing to see how far you could comfortably take him. You were surprised at how long you managed to go before gagging, impressed by the skill you’d never had the chance to learn you had. He pulled out instinctively at the first sign of discomfort, and ironically you felt the need to reassure him of your contentment.
“I’m okay. Keep going.” You leaned forward to take him back in, his hand on your head hesitating to follow behind you. Your mouth stretched uncomfortably around him, but it was exhilarating to be in this position under Steven. You wished he would do things like this more often.
“Oh God. Feels so good, love.” He hummed through ragged, shuttering breaths. It was all Steven could do not to buck his hips into your face, but he would be damned if he ran any risk of hurting you. “Holy shit.”
You set a slow rhythm as you started to slightly bob your head, letting the anxiety melt away as you gained confidence in your movements. Steven used the bedpost to brace himself, struggling not to pull your hair as you worked him over. You could feel him twitching in your mouth; his own concern was dissolving with each moan and hum from your lips.
“Doing so good.” He whimpered as you tentatively swallowed around him, tightening his grip on the dull metal post. You weren’t sure who was in control of who at this point, but Steven’s strength still outweighed yours as he began to move your head, failing to resist his urge to fuck your mouth at his pace. He was becoming more unhinged by the second.
“This’ll—teach you—to talk about me—like I can—be walked—all over.” His words were punctuated by each thrust into your mouth. Steven was gasping for air as he fought to restrain his hips from bucking too strongly into you. You ran your hands up and down his chest, not knowing what else to do with them.
Before long he was struggling to keep his rhythm. You selfishly didn’t want him to finish like this. You pushed against his hips and he begrudgingly pulled away from you, worried that he’d somehow hurt you while trying to chase his own pleasure.
“What is it?” His demeanor changed in an instant. He bent down to meet you closer to eye level, but you shook your head at his concern, calming him of his assumption.
“You can’t—I don’t want you to cum yet.” Your heart was in your throat. You could barely hold your eyes open to meet his tender gaze. “I need you to fuck me, Steven. Please. I need you.”
Your begging came out as delirious muttering. Steven gave a soft chuckle at your request, more than happy to oblige. He cupped your face for a moment before stumbling over to the nightstand, digging in the top drawer for a condom. He helped you to your feet, pressing his lips to yours as soon as you were upright again.
He kissed you more tenderly, more lovingly than he had all night. It was like he’d somehow worked out all his frustration, even though you weren’t nearly done yet. You crawled back onto the bed as he worked the condom on, this time finally removing his shirt and boxers in two clean motions.
This next part didn’t last quite as long as you wanted it, but you had to admit that it felt like the best sex you’d had in months. Steven was gentle as always, but he didn’t hold back his sounds of pleasure as much as he normally would. You supposed it was something to do with making a point again. Or maybe he just felt that damn good. For all of his talk of teaching you a lesson, he fucked you as lovingly as you could imagine was possible. Filthy praises found their way into your ears, tucked between whimpers and expletives.
Steven made sure that you both finished at the same time. When he felt his own orgasm approaching, he began to circle your clit with his fingers to draw you toward the edge at equal speed. He rarely stopped kissing you all throughout the endeavor, craving as much contact with you as humanly possible. When he finally came, your name fell from his lips with a religious exaltation, though you could barely hear it over your own sounds of pleasure.
You weren’t sure if you could even move as Steven pulled out and fell on his back beside you. For several minutes, you only could lie there and heave. Bliss simply wasn’t a strong enough word. When you finally regained your composure, it took all you could muster to turn and lay your head on Steven’s shuddering chest. He wrapped his arm around your back, lazily nestling his chin on the top of your head. Bliss wasn’t a strong enough word for him, either.
“I hope that was okay.” He mumbled, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. A felt a huff above you, reminiscent of a laugh. “And I hope that you learned your lesson. For whatever it may be worth.”
“Oh.” You smiled. “I definitely learned something.”
You turned your head to meet his eyes. His beautiful, satisfied, endlessly curious eyes. They squinted at you.
“And what’s that?”
“That I should complain to you more often.”
Tagging the lovelies (idk if all of you want to be tagged in this but this is my tag list so 🤷‍♀️)
@libsybum @rmoonstoner @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @moony-artemis @gabewerk @theluckyplaces @ahookedheroespureheart @lunarlockley @eunike-flower @dopeqff
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imagineyourworld · a day ago
How the Moon Boys react when you send them a spicy picture (Fem!Reader edition)
Steven Grant x fem!Reader Marc Spector x fem!Reader Jake Lockley x fem!Reader (The male!Reader edition is coming soon, but since I’m still busy with uni and I want to do it justice it might be a while)
Warnings: Lingerie, mentions of masturbation and a vibrator, allusions to sex, (PiV), drinking mentioned (though never specified whether it is alcohol)
Steven Grant
Ever since Steven had mentioned how much he liked receiving pictures from you you have started to send more and more of them. And I’m not only talking spicy pictures here, more often than not you’d send him a pic of the salad you were eating for lunch, the new popcorn you had just picked up for your next movie night together, or a cute animal you saw in the tree outside your office.
But on bad days, the days where Steven called you during his lunch break and the sound of his voice told you that Donna or some costumer had walked all over your sweet boyfriend, you send him a picture of yourself. Sometimes an old selfie of just you or the two of you together to remind Steven of better times, sometimes a snapshot of you at work, at the store, or wherever else you happened to be.
And oh boy, today was a bad day. You had the day off from work to meet up with some old friends who were visiting London for a day and were currently doing dishes before getting ready to go out when your phone lit up with a message from Steven. Though Marc and Jake used the same phone as well you could always tell when it was Steven texting you, there was just something about the way he worded his texts that made his voice shine through more than should be possible with a few simple letters. I can’t call you during my break today, love. Donna has put me on inventory again and unless I wanna stay the whole night I’ll have to get started. Love you, miss you <3
That just wouldn’t do, you quickly decided. After shooting him a quick reply and finishing the dishes you headed over to your wardrobe to pull out what you liked to call your ‘secret weapon’, a dress you knew would drive Steven wild, one that showed just a hint more cleavage than you usually wore. In a hurry you stepped out of the pair of your boyfriends’ shirt and boxers you had grabbed in the morning and rummaged through your drawer to find a matching set of panties and a bra.
Is this too much?, you texted Steven, accompanied by a picture of you in front of the mirror in the dress with your hair pulled up. Or maybe too little?, you followed just seconds later, not giving Steven time to reply. The picture you sent this time was, in your own opinion, among the best you had taken of yourself. A hint of your arse was visible in the mirror, not at all covered by the white lace tanga you had chosen, but the highlight was the bra. You knew that Steven, most of your boyfriends, was a boobs-man, and you knew that he had a particular fondness for the bra you had chosen to wear. Just like the tanga it was white, mostly lace with a bit of satin, a tiny bow rested right between your breasts, which were covered not only in lace, but also small glittery stones that caught the sunlight streaming. The two satin straps that ran across your tits only highlighted your assets, made them seem bigger, rounder, and sexier. A proud smile settled on your face as you pulled the dress over your head again before setting out to do your makeup.
It took Steven a while to reply, he was probably busy with inventory and Donna rarely gave him a chance to check his phone, but once he finally answered the wait had been worth it. Love, my love, my darling, my gorgeous girl. You look amazing. I love the dress, it’s stunning, his first text read.  A smirk grew on your face as you realised that he had probably not seen the second picture yet. No!  Bloody hell Are you trying to kill me? Honey You look bloody amazing  Is that what you’re wearing to have tea with your friends?  I can’t stand being stuck at the other end of town knowing you’re wearing that What have I done to deserve you?
Okay, maybe you were a little bit cruel for making Steven suffer at work, but you knew that it gave him something to look forward to in the evening, and ensured that he would get the sweetest of rewards once he came home to you.
Marc Spector
Marc had been gone for days, and of course you missed him, you missed all of them, but it wasn’t just that. You weren’t exactly proud to say it, but you were incredibly horny, and even your trusty vibrator, all the tricks you had perfected before you meeting your lovely boyfriends, didn’t help. So finally, out of pure need and desperation, you texted Marc at exactly ten minutes to midnight. Are you still up?
It didn’t take him long to reply with a simple yes. You knew that when your boys went out on a mission it almost always went the same way: Marc fronted for most of it, barely sleeping, only eating when necessary, and most definitely not drinking enough water. Steven fronted when his help was needed, mostly meaning his brain but sometimes he’d be a secret weapon in a fight as well. And as for Jake, he usually stayed put, only fronting in emergencies or when he knew that Marc or Steven needed a break. That being said you knew that it was Marc who would answer your text before you even send it, and you knew just bow to get Marc to do what you want him to do.
I miss you, you continued, step by step planning how to get Marc to his breaking point. I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home before you know it. You shook your head as you reread his message. Nope. Not good enough. Marc, I need you. Now that usually worked, only of course today of all days it didn’t. I have a little friend here, but he just can’t do what you do. You knew that Marc would be able to tell that you were referring to the vibrator he had used on you on several occasions, but still your boyfriend remained stoic, probably opting not to answer your texts until the next morning, until you were being more reasonable.
“Alright, Spector, you asked for it,” you whispered to yourself as you opened the camera on your phone and got into position. You could practically see the scene in your head. Marc’s phone would buzz again, he’d glance at it for a second, probably already sure he’d ignore it, when he saw it was a photo from you. Finally he’d be tempted enough to open it. You knew that the moment he laid eyes on the picture, on you in what used to be one of his favourite shirts until it had shrunken in the wash, now making it barely bigger than a sports bra, laying on your stomach on his side of the bed with your arse arched into the air and only a thin bit of cloth covering your nether regions, he’d run a hand through his hair.
“Baby, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?,” he asked as soon as you answered the phone, his distress and need obvious in his voice. You bit your lip as you shook your head, a sly grin on your face. “I really don’t. But why don’t you tell me what you’d do to me if you were here right now?” As Marc’s voice picked up again your hand drifted to your vibrator, hoping that with the help of Marc’s voice the little device would work wonders once again.
Jake Lockley
You knew that sending Jake a spicy picture of yourself never ended well for you. You had tried it only once and had spent the entire following day in bed, not feeling your limbs even after hours, and the rest of the week walking funny. Jake had simply been insatiable that night and as much as you had loved it, it wasn’t something you could just repeat casually. So you never send Jake any pictures. But that didn’t mean that you never took any.
“Just continue to swipe through the photos, I’ll get us something to drink,” you said as you got up from the sofa, leaving Jake alone with your phone and the photos you had taken during your recent girls’ trip with your friend. You returned just a minute later, only to find the smile on Jake’s face replaced by an unreadable expression. “Is everything alright?,” you asked as you set the glasses and the bottle on the table. Instead of simply answering your question, Jake turned the phone around to show it to you. “Care to explain, princessa?” Heat rose to your cheeks. “It’s just a picture, no big deal.” You knew full well that it was more than just any picture, it was a picture of you sitting on the windowsill at your air b&b, your face barely facing the camera, tight black jeans highlighting your thighs and hips. Oh, and the oversized shirt you had borrowed from your friend was unbuttoned, leaving your skin on display with only a tiny black lace bra covering your breasts where the shirt had fallen open.
Jake didn’t say anything for a while. He handed the phone back to you and took a sip of his drink. Though you had gotten better at reading Jake, it was still difficult and tonight was one of those nights you had no idea what was going on in his head, all you knew that the man sitting next to you was still Jake, even without words the way he held himself gave him away. “Why?,” he finally asked. “Why did you take that picture? You didn’t send it to me, not Steven or Marc either. Is there someone else? Did you take that picture for someone else?” Your eyes widened in shock. The possibility that Jake would come to that conclusion hadn’t even crossed your mind. Did he not see how much you loved him, loved all of them? “Jake, no! No, no. Baby, no. There’s no one else, I swear. It’s just... I told you that my friend’s boyfriend broke up with her a couple of weeks ago, and she was feeling bad about herself, wasn’t feeling beautiful, and confident, and sexy anymore, so I thought a sexy photoshoot would show her just how stunning she is, and in return she wanted to take a couple of pictures of me as well.” You reached for his hands and lifted them up to press gentle kisses to each of them. “I forget about them, to be honest, didn’t think they were even worth sharing with you guys, there are better pictures. But Jake, you, Steven, Marc, you’re the only men in my life, the only ones I would ever send spicy pictures of myself.” Finally his gaze lifted again, his eyes met yours. Though you knew that there was still some doubt deep in his heart, some part of him that didn’t dare believe that you actually loved him, a smile played on his lips. “Te amo, princessa. I love you more than any words in any language can describe.” You let go of his hands to unite your lips in a sweet kiss instead. “Te amo, Jake.”
Okay, so the Jake part went way off track, but he’s usually portrayed as this tough guy and I just wanted to show a more sensitive and sweet side of him.
Let me know what you think!
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angelltheninth · 2 days ago
Moon Boys Taking Care of You When You're Drunk
Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley x Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, cuddling, domestic, established relationship, drinking, caring Moon Boys, soft Moon Boys
A/N: I'm not good with alcohol at all, I'll only drink it if it tastes really sweet and even then I don't think I've ever had a hangover lol.
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Steven is sober most of the time even when the two of you go out for drinks, he can get a little tipsy but nothing more than that
He's always there to walk you home and laughs along with your bad jokes that you tell
When you ask him out for a date and he replies that he already has a partner you become really pouty, which he finds adorable and tells you as much
Always has a glass of water ready for you when you wake up along with scrambled eggs and a fruit salad for you to get some of your energy back after a long night
Marc likes to join you for drinks a lot and handles his alcohol pretty well
Comforts you when if you've had one drink too many and get sick because of it
He loves how cuddly and clingily you can get and how you confess to him over and over and get angry when you tell him that anyone who's able to get him as a boyfriend is really lucky, only for him to say that he does have someone like that already
When you tell him that he's the hottest man you've ever seen he does become a little flustered and replies how he's happy that you have great taste then
Jake always makes sure to cut you off when he knows you're about to go over your limit
He's been drunk a few times himself, not a lot because it doesn't mix well with his work but on a celebratory occasion he can drink, so he knows just what to get for you in order to help you feel better
Of course that doesn't mean he won't take the opportunity to tease you when you try to drag him to bed and he replies that he can't because he wants you to remember every moment with him clearly and you end up sleeping with your back turned to him rather than cuddling against him like usual
Makes you coffee for your hangover while also teasing you about the night before
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spectoris · 2 days ago
“did it hurt?”
pairing: marc spector x gn!reader
genre: fluff, slight friends to lovers
warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, not proofread
word count: 0.3k
prompt from @nightprompts
“Did it hurt?”
Marc, whose eyes are closed, answers with a grumble. It’s followed by a hiss when you tug on the white bandages around his knuckles, securing them in place.
“What do you think?” he says through gritted teeth. The lingering smile on your face remains unaffected by his sharp temper. He peeks at you with one eye, seated on the floor where his hand dangles limply below his thigh. With the nature of his appearance⏤blood covered clothes, cut and bruised skin⏤you’re happy as a clam. It’s unsettling, and Marc isn’t sure if he’d rather have you humming cheerily or inspecting each and every one of his wounds.
“I meant-” After finishing his hand, Marc expects you to let go. Instead, you take it in yours and massage his knuckles with your thumb. “-when you punched that guy in jaw.”
In the dimness of the room, your eyes still catch the little light streaming through the window. Your irises hold the night sky, twinkling with each tilt of your head. It makes Marc’s stomach flutter.
“Does it really matter?” he answers gruffly. He turns his head away to conceal the smile tugging his lips. You tug him back to you, shocking him with the concerned scrunch of your brows.
“It does. I had him, you know. You didn’t have to do that.”
“He had a knife for crying out loud.”
“So did I.”
Marc rolls his eyes. You scoot closer to him and rest your head against his thigh, tentatively interlocking your fingers with his. “You don’t have to protect me, you know. I’m capable of doing it myself.”
“What if I want to?” he blurts. The sudden snap of your head in his direction makes him bite his tongue. Shit, was that too bold? You are partners (business, of course); the number one unwritten rule is keeping each other safe. Though, Marc wonders if it’s more than the need to protect a friend that drives him to do so.
You’re on your feet now, his face held in both your hands. Having to look up at you, Marc swallows thickly, breath quickening. Your thumb grazes over the cut on his forehead. Before he can think, your lips land on the wound and leave quicker than he wishes.
“I know you do,” you whisper. “Don’t get too beat up. I still need my hero.”
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devilish-mirage · a day ago
I can't write for the life of me but imagine a fantasy world where the moon bois were the cursed!crown prince cause they didn't have the medical knowledge and maybe they're somehow a demon? Idk 😩
It would set in a medieval timeline and we (the reader) is an assassin who disguise ourself as his new maid.
We'd have all the qualities of a killing machine- cold and calculated, knows how to use our sex to advantages, manipulate, gatekeep and girlbossing our way to murder.
My god- just imagine us sneaking inside their bedroom, we'd get on top of him, sitting still on their stomach as we pull a dagger from our thigh strap as we aim for his neck.
Steven was the one who woke up and stare at us, eyes wide with admiration as the moonlight illuminates our face, highlighting our eyes and we'd stare deep into each other's eyes while the dagger touching his adam apple dangerously.
"Beautiful." He says out loud, we roll our eyes in amusement and tries to push the dagger only to be pinned down by Marc as he glare at us, face dangerously close that we can feel his breath on our face.
Pretend engagement, forbidden love, the guy only kneels for his girl, destined to be together, I hate everyone but you, belated love epiphany.
Magic, magic, magic and more magic because I wanna be a magician/sorcerer. It's cool ok- 🏃🏃🏃
Steven: friends to lovers, he's warm, he's kind and he always tries to see the better in us, always forgiving us and give us many chances to make it up to him.
Marc: enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine. Marc being the grumpy, cold and rude to us, literally hate us because we tried to kill him while we're the sunshine and we'd be really flirty with him, always getting on his nerve and annoying him.
Now onto jake, I honestly feel like he's very unhinged and smooth because we've seen how he shamelessly seduced that nurse and dragged Harrow out. So maybe the dynamic that we have would probably be enemies to lovers like Marc but instead Jake being flirty with us and we'd also be like that, we'd amuse and entertain each other in ways that no one can.
But Jake is really dangerous and we knows it so we sometimes be on high guard and switch to our assassin's persona, u know on how we'd be on edge because he makes us uneasy and stuff, unlike Marc and Steven we didn't know what's on Jake's mind and what does he think of us.
She fell first but he fell harder for both Jake and Marc please bcs >>>>
The words that I would love to squeeze inside the fic:
1. "Kiss me- and this time don't fucking stop."
2. "Where is home?" "With me."
3. "I can't stop-" "Then don't."
4. "Touch them and you die."
5. "Are you mine?" "All yours."
6 "You look so pretty like this." "Only for you."
7. "The problem with me is you."
9. "If I kill them right before your eyes, will you still stay?" "Always, without a doubt."
11. "I'm not a gentleman." "Lucky for you I'm not into them."
12. "You like what you see, Darlin'?"
13. "I'm supposed to hate you." "And yet- here we are."
14. "Do I make you nervous, Lockley/Spector/Grant?"
15. "You think you can intimidate me?"
16. "I hate myself for loving you, but I loathe the thought of not having you more."
17. "I love the way you make me feel." "Even when I'm trying to kill you?" "Especially that."
18. "I will burn the whole world down- just for you. You only need to say the word."
19. "What have I told you about you and your orders?"
20. "I hate you." "That's not what you said last night, sweetheart."
21. "Say it again, I love the way you say my name."
22. "You really has no fear." "Thanks for the compliment."
23. "I want to hurt you so bad." "I want to see you try."
24. "I like when you get mad."
25. "Don't look at me like that."
26. "The things I would do to you."
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wysteria-clad · 12 hours ago
Steven: what is your favourite tea?
Y/n: *makes fuckboy face* it's you, Shaw-tea
Marc: *trying not to laugh* can we break up with her?
Jake: you mean marry her? *grins*
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the-archxr · a day ago
okay but imagine marc eating you out in the hallway and he tells you to be quiet, so you're literally biting your hand to stay quiet, and when he sees you physically stopping yourself from making noise he goes absolutely feral 🥴🥴🥴
-m <33
…which would like only make him want to make it harder for you?
marc spector is a paradox in everything he does. so obviously he’d be the type to growl “shut up” into your folds when you whimper particularly loudly. but the second your hand flies over your mouth, when your leg begins shuddering on his shoulder and your stomach tightens beneath his palm, somehow he grows even harder against his jeans (enough where he has to undo them, and pull himself out of his underwear to relieve some pressure).
and that’s when he wants to make you scream. his life goal is to test you in every way, so by him spitting on you, wrapping his lips around your clit and shoving two fingers into your aching hole with a curl of his knuckles, he’s just trying to see if you’ll disobey him in the way he hopes you fucking will.
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✨the-archxr thots✨
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elliaze · 2 days ago
Dancing with you
A/N: I finally managed to finish this one shot. What was supposed to be a short story about how the reader dances with Steven in the rain made a whole story of over 7 pages. But I like it and I hope you guys enjoy it too. 
I recommend turning on some romantic songs to read it. 
And let me know if you want part two, because I have a little soft smut idea for this story. 
Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader (main), Marc Spector x fem!reader (mentioned few times)
Warnings: few curses, wedding (not reader’s), mean cousin named Vicky, it’s just fluff and comfort, Steven is the sweetest man alive no one can’t change my mind, italics are memories
Summery: You go with Steven to your cousin's wedding. 
Words Count: 4400+ 
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A sunny Saturday was the perfect day for a wedding. 
The only problem was that you didn't want to be there, and your only solace was the presence of Steven, who had taken control of their body this time. A full hall of people who either didn't give a complete shit about you or absolutely hated you was the last place you wanted to spend your day off. However, the pride and constant nagging from your cousin was enough to show you that she was wrong and that you, like her, could easily make a life for yourself. 
However, you were coming to the realization that the whole master plan that had been laid out already a few weeks ago had fallen apart. Because your cousin, as always, looked almost perfect, much better than yourself. 
“Oh my God! I can't believe it!” You cried out in shock, flicking through your phone. Your mouth opened into a small O and you even gasped at the sight of a picture of your cousin and her boyfriend on your social media announcing their wedding in two months.
“Baby? Are you alright?” Marc spoke up with concern, standing in the passageway between the kitchen and the living room. He looked at you with concern, and you immediately nodded. “Then why are you screaming”
“What?” You lifted your gaze to him. “Oh, nothing like that. Remember how I told you about my cousin?”
“The one you hate? Yes, several times.” 
You rolled your eyes, looking at the photo again. A feeling of jealousy swept over you almost immediately. Your cousin always had to destroy your inner peace at the least appropriate moment. She probably did it unconsciously, because having known her for so many years, you already figured out that she shared practically everything on social media. Which was the complete opposite to you. You were the same age with your cousin, but every time she was able to prove that she was better than you at everything. Whenever you randomly saw her, she would put a pin in your heart with her comments, proving that you were supposedly not as good as her. You genuinely hated her and every time you went back to your home town of Nottingham, you tried to avoid her at all costs. 
“She's just posted that she and that Tobias of hers are getting married in two months,” you said with a sneer. “Actually, I feel sorry for him. Because Vicky's a complete bitch.” 
“I'm sure she says the same about you,” he commented with amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. Marc leaned his shoulder against the wall and laughed briefly as you sent him a deadly look. “Don't look at me like that. I'm just being honest with you.” 
“You know, in situations like this I don't need you to be honest with me” you moved your hand into the space between you and him. “You should take my side.” 
“When I don't? Or Steven? Baby, just don't get offended now.”
“I'm not offended, I just... I hate that every time, she even unknowingly manages to ruin my mood.” 
“Oh, Y/N” Marc moved away from the wall and sat down next to you on the couch. He grabbed your hand and then placed a brief kiss on the outside of your palm. “Do you know that she has no influence on your life unless you let her?”
“When you try to comfort me in some way, you do a poor job of it.” 
“I know Steven is much better at it” Marc kissed your temple and then took the phone out of your hands and put it on the table. “If you need him at this point, then…”
“No,” you shook your head. “It's ok, besides, this was supposed to be our day together, right? Anyway, you're right, Vicky can't have a constant influence on my life. She ruined it enough when I was a kid…” - Marc smiled slightly and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So, back to what we were doing earlier... Do you need my help in the kitchen?” 
“I was just about to tell you that everything is ready. We'll have dinner and start up one of those favourite movies of yours on Netflix.” 
“Or…” you leaned over him so that your noses were rubbing against each other. Marc put his hands on your hips, and you threw your leg over his and sat on top of him with your arms around him. You kissed the corner of his mouth and then whispered right into his ear. “We can go straight to dessert.”
So, how did you end up in this place? Your mother, who accepted the invitation on your behalf without consulting you beforehand. You didn't hold anything against her because you understood her attitude. She didn't like Vicky as much as you did, but she was grateful to her father for everything he did for you. When your father left you, it was his older brother and Vicky's father who always helped you. If it wasn't for him, you doubted you would have even managed to graduate. 
Getting ready for this party, you were really positive. A weekend in the company of your boys, your mum who adored them and your older brother and his family seemed like a really great idea. The only downside was the wedding, but you still did your best to look beautiful. The pastel green floral dress fit you perfectly, the beige stiletto added a few inches, the perfect make-up highlighted your eye colour, the perfectly styled hair added charm and the finishing touch was the whole set of silver jewellery, which you got for your last birthday from Marc and Steven. You looked truly gorgeous and everyone told you so, yet looking at your cousin, you felt like you looked like shit. It was her wedding and her day and ultimately, she was the one who should look, like, a queen. But in these surroundings, the glamour of the Hall, Vicky's rich friends looking down on everyone, you felt extremely unworthy. 
It didn't even help that you knew how to fight, and most importantly not so long ago with Marc and Steven you stopped Harrow and Ammit from causing total chaos in the world. 
At first, everything seemed fine. The church service was somehow not very interesting, as it had been years since you believed in a god. Steven, despite his different faith, took part in the whole ceremony with the greatest respect, but you knew by the look on his face that Marc must have been constantly complaining about the situation you were in. Later, however, it was time for the party, and consequently the congratulations. The very thought of talking to your cousin made you angry, let alone if you were actually going to talk to her. But the congratulations passed very quickly and there was no time for any conversation, especially as the number of people present completely overwhelmed you. There were at least a hundred people in the Hall and you wondered where your cousin got so many people, considering that after all your family was not that big. Dinner didn't go so badly either, especially since you and Steven sat at the same table with the rest of your family and your cousin's husband's uncles. These two turned out to be very nice, and it was great talking to them. 
But then came the confrontation with Vicky and although it didn't last long, it made you feel like you were a teenager again, and she belittled you in every possible way. 
“Oh, you came after all. I thought you'd have the honour of not showing up after all,” she said with a forced smile when she found you at the bar. Your mother was in the mood for a short drink, and you were going to bring it to her, having argued with your brother earlier that it was your turn this time. It was going to be a short task - go to the bar, order your mum's favourite margarita and return to the table where she sat with your brother and Steven. 
However, Vicky's voice made you know that it wasn't going to go that easily. It seemed as if she was specifically waiting for some moment when you were alone to specifically talk to you. 
“Vicky” you said, trying to sound nice, when in fact you were trembling with anger at her very presence. “Were you blind when I congratulated you?” 
“I didn't particularly pay attention to you, it's true,” she confessed with satisfaction, and you rolled your eyes. You looked meaningfully at the bartender, who was now exceptionally slow in preparing drinks. “Besides, who could pay attention to you? Have you seen yourself in the mirror, Y/N? You look awful. You don't look like anyone around here.” 
Open criticism from her was nothing new for you, but now it hurts twice as much. For a while you thought about what to say to her, to put a pin in her feelings as well, but after a while you came to the conclusion that there was no point. Vicky was heartless and whatever you said, it wouldn't make any impression on her anyway. 
“It was good to talk, really,” you said sarcastically, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when the barman finally put two glasses with drinks in front of you. You grabbed both dishes and forced one last smile, which you directed at your cousin. “I hope we didn't see each other anymore.”
You turned away from her with the intention of leaving quickly, and congratulated yourself for not letting her piss you off. Such conversations always ended that way, and later it was always you who came out as the emotionally unstable one. But then Vicky spoke again. 
“You know, I always thought you were mentally ill, so that's probably why you get along so well with your man. I won't say he's even handsome, and I'd probably sleep with him, but the fact that he's already touched you definitely makes it less so. It makes me sick just thinking about it.” 
Her words were dripping with as much hatred as ever. They pierced your heart to the core, but this time, it was something different. Until now, her criticism had always focused on you. She didn't drag anyone associated with you into it. Until now, and this was the trigger moment. You were able to bear the hatred and criticism towards yourself, but you were not going to let it offend anyone who was close to you and whom you loved. 
You took a deep breath and then put your drinks back on the counter. You turned to face her, and apparently there must have been something in your gaze - probably a total desire for murder - because the smile came off your cousin's face. Suddenly, her figure seemed to contort with fear, and you couldn't help but think that maybe for the first time in your life, the roles were reversed. It also made you have no intention of holding back your reaction. However, you knew that you were in the midst of a crowd of people and ultimately did not want to cause a scene. 
You grabbed your cousin's exposed arm and squeezed your fingers tightly against her skin. Vicky moaned softly, and you knew that before long there would be bruises on her arm because of your attack. And that made you smile broadly, and she looked even more terrified and one who had lost any control over the situation. You bent over her, which wasn't easy at all, considering that her stilettos were probably three times higher than the ones you wore today. 
“You can insult me as long as you like, Vicky. After all these years, it doesn't bother me at all. However, watch your words when you mention people I care about. You don't know them and have no right to judge them. And you must know that I react very emotionally when at least someone takes a bad look at the people I love. Because you see, then no one can stop me, and I am able to attack, and you must know that I have certain abilities that will easily make it easier for me and make you cry in pain in a few seconds”. 
Your voice was cool and icy, yet composed. It was not the first time you had addressed someone like that. However, until now, you had only used such a tone to your enemies, whom you managed to defeat in a fair fight right afterwards. And although you did not like Vicky, you never considered her your enemy, at least not until now. You may have said a few words too many, but you knew she wouldn't say anything to anyone. Besides, the people who were most interested in this knew anyway. After the whole story with Ammit and Harrow and how you lost and regained Marc and Steven and then almost died yourself, you told your mother about everything. Maybe not all the details, because still, no mother wanted to hear that her daughter could fight, handle a gun and kill without blinking an eye. 
“Are you threatening me?” Vicky howled in agitation, and you were shocked that this was all it took to get her to this state. So you tightened your fingers on her hand, and she didn't even try to pull away. 
“I'm just warning you,” you replied, and then moved away from her. You smiled at her with your most friendly and artificial smile and let go of her hand. You brushed invisible dust off the fabric of her dress until finally you turned and walked away, leaving her at the bar. 
The only sign of what you were really feeling were your trembling hands, which were not helping in any way to bring the drink to your mother.
“There you are,” you heard Steven's voice and looked away from Vicky, who acted almost as if nothing had happened. Although it seemed to you that she was a bit shocked by the whole situation, and you were even proud of yourself. “Marc and I were wondering where you had hidden yourself.” 
“I needed some time alone,” you explained, trying not to show that any confrontation took place, but Steven knew you too well. He immediately sensed that something wasn't right. 
“What happened?”
“Why do you think something happened?”
“Y/N, love” he smiled at you. He lifted his hand up and gently stroked your cheek. “I know you, and I know when something's not right. Do you want to talk about it?”
“You know... What's always” you sighed quietly, but cuddled your cheek into his hand. Steven's touch and his presence were the cure for all evil. Actually, everything else didn't matter except for him and Marc. Everything stopped mattering, there were no problems and all you could feel was unlimited love from them. “It doesn't matter at this point.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Like never before” you assured him. You put your hands on his chest, but you refrained from any kiss, because you both were not fond of such open displays of affection for each other in public places. Such things were reserved only for your flat when you were alone, possibly in the company of loved ones. Then you lifted your gaze to him, and your eyes shone joyfully. “Actually, I have an idea.” 
“Oh, I know that look,” he laughed cheerfully. “What's on your mind, darling?”
“We both don't want to be at this wedding, do we?” Steven nodded his head in agreement. “So, what's the harm in us just running away from here?” 
“I don't know... Wouldn't that be rude?”
“Who cares?” You replied. “Steven, dear, we can say goodbye to my mum and brother, but the others won't even notice that we're gone. Please?”
“You know perfectly well that I can't refuse you” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours. “But we haven't even danced once. I thought this would be a good opportunity to ask you to dance.” 
“I would love to, Steven, but not here.” 
“Whatever you want, my love” he replied, and you sent him a smile that was reserved only for him and Marc. You grabbed his hand and linked your fingers together. 
“In that case, let's go.” 
And without waiting for anything else, you returned to the table, said goodbye to your mother, who was the only one sitting at it, and left the banquet hall.
Getting away from the wedding was the best thing you decided to do that day. The weather was still fine despite it being late evening, but you and Steven decided it was the perfect time for a walk. Nottingham was your favourite place, even if not everyone appreciated it. You had already shown it to Steven and Marc several times, but each time you felt some kind of excitement at the very thought of walking together. There was no better feeling in the world than visiting your favourite places with the person you loved the most. 
You smiled cheerfully and felt that Steven could not take his fascinated eyes off you. 
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with amusement, putting your portion of fries down next to you. Together you sat on the concrete steps, which were the only free space nearby. All the people, like you, were taking advantage of the good weather, which was rare for England. “Don't tell me I have something on my face? It's sauce, isn't it?”
You sighed heavily and then nervously started searching through your handbag to find your mobile phone. Steven, however, laughed audibly and grabbed your hand, interrupting the activity. 
“Maybe I just like looking at you, love,” he replied, and you blushed. Steven generally couldn't flirt with you so openly, and sometimes it was still a new thing for you when he did. “You look gorgeous with sauce on your face or not.” 
“Is that your way of saying I have it on my face, though?”
“In a way,” he laughed, but before you could do anything, Steven leaned over you and placed a soft, righteous kiss on the corner of your mouth “There. It's done. You have nothing to worry about.” 
“Thank you, Mr Grant. What a gentleman you are.” 
“Anything for my lady.” 
Steven bowed slightly, and you began to laugh, as loudly as was possible in his company. You loved Marc and Steven in the same way, but Steven had this way that no matter how bad mood you might be in, he knew instantly what to say and how to cheer you up to make it all go away. 
“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” He asked after a while. Both portions of fries were completely finished, but neither you nor he wanted to move from your place. The clouds in the sky were a bit more noticeable, and it was definitely getting colder, but you didn't want to go back to your family home just yet. 
“What do you mean?”
“Your cousin” you looked at him in surprise, and he reached for your hand and grabbed it, joining your fingers together. With his thumb, he began to draw small circles, further reassuring and somehow encouraging you. “Your mother told me that she saw you two talking. And it didn't seem like a friendly chat.”
You sighed heavily. You didn't expect anyone to notice your confrontation with your cousin.
“Yes,” you agreed with difficulty. You wanted to forget about this conversation, but you knew that whatever you said to Steven, he would listen to you and try his best to understand. “As if to say, I threatened her.” 
“What did you do?” Steven asked. But you weren't sure whether he was more disgusted by your behaviour or amused. Probably both, which didn't help at all. 
“I just... Oh, I can't believe this is happening,” you muttered to yourself in frustration. You hid your face in your free hand as you still held Steven's in the other. “I really wanted to be nice to her and not let her provoke me, but when she came up to me on her own and started talking shit... It was stronger than me.” 
“What did she say to you?” 
“Actually, the same thing she always says. That I don't belong in her company, that I'm inferior, and I'm completely used to it, because I've heard it for years. But when she started picking on you and Marc, I couldn't listen anymore. So I started threatening her to watch her mouth because I have abilities that will make her cry in pain. I know, it was inappropriate and... 
“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Steven asked calmly, and you hesitated for a moment, but eventually looked into his brown eyes. “You know I'm not judging you in any way, right? Neither me nor Marc. You stood up to her, and that was the best thing you could have done. No one has the right to insult you.” 
“I'm used to it from her side…”
“And you shouldn't, Y/N. You know that everything she said isn't true, don't you?” Steven lifted his hand up and brushed a strand of hair out of your face and put it behind your ear. Then he placed his hand on your cheek and smiled sincerely. “You are the best thing that ever happened to us. You are smart, brave, and incredibly beautiful. You give your whole heart into everything you do. And I love you.” 
“Thank you” a single tear ran down your cheek, but you didn't even have time to do anything when Steven quickly wiped it away. You smiled at him and then rested your forehead against his. “And I love you, Steven.” 
“Besides,” Steven added feisty. “I think the way you stood up for us was pretty damn sexy.” 
You laughed cheerfully, tilting your head back. 
Later, the soft sounds of a guitar could be heard from a nearby establishment, and then a male singing one of the popular love songs. Steven's brown irises lit up merrily, and then he quickly moved away from you and got up from his seat.
“May I ask you to dance?” He extended his hand towards you, and without hesitation you took it and let yourself be lifted. 
“This will be the greatest pleasure for me.” 
You paid no attention to whether anyone would see you. Steven joined his hand with yours, and then caught you around the waist with his other hand. You placed your free hand on his chest and the smile never left your face. Your gazes never broke away from each other, and eventually you slowly began to sway to the sound of the music. But as for you, they might not have been there at all, because all that mattered was Steven, who was looking at you like the most beautiful work of art and that alone made your heart incredibly fast and your breathing become extremely restless. 
Those were the kind of quiet, intimate moments you appreciated most. You didn't need great reassurances and confessions, but just moments like that, where you could just be with him, or with Marc and feel with your whole self all the feelings they felt for you. You felt like the luckiest woman in the world, and you didn't know what good you had done before that you had them both in your life. 
When the first drop fell on your nose, you didn't pay attention to it at all. You were so caught up in Steven that the world around you lost all meaning. Then, however, the individual drops turned into a gentle but noticeable rain, and you looked up for a brief moment and started laughing merrily. However, even though the rain was falling, neither of you stopped your dance. The music had long since died down, the people on the street were scurrying for shelter, and you were still standing in each other's embrace, swaying to your own beat. At one point, Steven spun you around, and as he drew you back to him, you almost fell into his chest. 
“Can you kiss me?” You asked, feeling a soft blush creep up your cheeks. You didn't know why, but you felt it was the perfect time for a kiss, even if you were in a public place. There was no one on the street but you anyway, and you couldn't help but feel his lips on yours. 
“I would love to,” he replied, and then he drew your hand that he was holding to his lips and placed a gentle kiss. You smiled as you knew that Steven loved to do this before he actually placed the kiss on your lips. 
His other hand began to glide gently upwards, where he eventually entwined his hand in your hair and ran his thumb over your cheek and jawline. Your hands were still clasped together as he placed them on his chest where his heart was. You settled your free hand on his waist and almost couldn't wait for him to finally kiss you. This waiting was simultaneously the best thing in the world and the worst. You were never one for patience, especially when it came to Steven and Marc. You could have tasted their lips all the time in the world, and you would never, ever get tired of it. 
Until finally, Steven leaned over you and your lips came together in a kiss. At first, Steven kissed you gently, giving all his emotions into it, and you were sure another tear ran down your cheek. In a way you were grateful for the rain, but you still knew that if Steven noticed it, he would still quickly recognise your tears. You couldn't stop it, though, because all that mattered at that moment was how warm your whole heart felt at the mere knowledge that someone like Steven loved you with all his heart. 
Later, his kiss deepened a bit, and you weren't passive in any way. You pulled him close to you, as close as it was possible to feel him with your whole body. Steven was like the ultimate drug. As soon as you tasted him, you immediately wanted more and more. But what was most important was that you knew you could always count on him. You loved him and Marc with all your heart, and you were one hundred percent sure that this feeling was completely reciprocated. 
And that was all that matters.
109 notes · View notes
cozykali · a day ago
Caught in the Act 2
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader, Marc Spector x fem reader, Moon Boys POV
Rating: Smut! 18+ minors DNI
Warnings: established relationship, kissing, swearing, fem solo play, oral (fem receiving), face-sitting, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, rough sex, mild choking, spanking, biting, begging, unprotected p in v, squirting, mention of a safe word, mild dirty talk, after care, some fluff, dom marc, switch steven
Word count: 4.1k
Disclaimer: This is an alternative version of my original story found here, where Steven and Marc catch the reader masturbating. In this story, we can see the same scene played out from Steven and Marc’s point of view, instead of the reader's. (They both can be read as stand alone stories and you don’t have to have read the first one to read this one) This story is written in a third-person narrative, with the reader being referred to with she/her pronouns and the Moon Boys pronouns are he/him. To avoid any confusion, Steven’s inner thoughts are in blue italics, while Marc’s thoughts are in orange italics. Please note: I do not have DID but did my best to portray it. Please inform me if I portrayed anything incorrectly or problematic and I will edit it immediately. 
(The GIF I used is not mine. I'm aware it's from The Promise)
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Steven stirs slightly from his sleep to the feeling of the mattress shifting beside him. His eyes flutter open and the first thing he can see is her face. There she is, his whole world. Oh, how lucky he feels to get to wake up next to her every day. He notices that her eyes are closed tight and there is a slight strain on her face. Oh no, is she okay? Is she in pain? Oh, wait. 
Her hand is in her shorts, only her wrist and arm are exposed but he can see her hand moving rhythmically under the silk fabric. She is writhing in pleasure. She looks so stunning like this. The sunlight is cascading through the window, creating a golden glow on her perfect face. He quietly watches her for a while in admiration.
Then, his insecurities get the best of him. Why didn’t she wake me up? Steven thinks, as he suddenly feels hurt. Does she not want me? Am I not good enough? How often does she do this without me? Steven quietly moves closer to her, shifting his head slightly across the pillows. She doesn’t seem to notice. Maybe I don’t satisfy her enough, so she needs to please herself to make up for it. She covers her mouth, trying not to moan.
“Just what do you think you are doing, Y/N?” He whispers as softly as he can in her ear. Her eyes pop open. Her hands move quickly out of her shorts and off her mouth to her sides. He can feel the heat radiating from her flushed cheeks onto his face, just inches away.
“I… I didn’t want to wake you up,” she says shyly.
He’s not buying it. “You didn’t think I would want in on this fun then, yeah?” Steven teases. Her eyes turn to meet his. He slowly starts to rise so he’s sitting up, staring down at her. She opens her mouth to answer him, but he doesn’t care for an explanation. He gently places his index finger on her mouth before she can get a word out. “Shh. Let me help you finish what you started, love.”
He is desperate to touch her. He instinctively reaches his hand down to cup her breast as she sits up to meet him. In an instant, her hands are holding his face and her lips are against his. She kisses him deeply, but he needs more. He moves his hand down her body, slowly studying every inch of her through her clothes with his hand. He reaches the delicate spot between her legs.
He can feel how wet she is, even though the fabric of her shorts. His stomach flips. Oh my god. He removes his lips from hers and buries his face in her neck, completely overwhelmed with the desire to please her.
“Y/N” Her name leaves his throat with a deep groan. She motions to take her shorts off but he desperately grabs her wrists to stop her. She glances at him with a look of surprise on her face. She has already done enough before she woke up. I’m not going to let her lift another finger. I can show her what she would have missed out on by letting me sleep.
“Allow me.” He says as he quickly crawls over her and removes her shorts as fast as he can.
Sitting in front of her, Steven lowers his head down to kiss her leg, just above her knee. Her legs open slightly in anticipation. He looks back up at her. Her back is resting against the metal frame of the bed. Her eyes are wide. 
He wants her to know that she never needs to please herself as long as he’s around. He wants her to want him. He slowly kisses back and forth between each thigh, moving up her legs slowly. Her skin is so soft against his lips. Her head falls back against the bed frame, revealing her gorgeous neck and throat. She grabs at his hair, he can feel the stinging sensation on his scalp as she pulls him closer to the middle of her thighs.
He stops, just for a moment, to take her in, to smell her, to see her like this, looking at him with pleading eyes. He’s so used to her being in charge in the bedroom, but having her powerless at this moment is setting something in him on fire. He glances down between her legs. He can almost see her body pulsing, begging to be touched. Is she like this because she wants me, or was she already like this because she was touching herself?
“You should have woke me up,” Steven mumbles softly before dipping his head down, his lips closing around her most sensitive spot. Every time he tastes her it’s like he has never tasted anything in his life before. The sweetest cakes in the world are tasteless compared to her, he thinks. His eyes study hers as all the muscles in her face relax in relief. He starts to lap his tongue in short circles to savor her more.
“Oh fuck! Steven, right there. You’re doing great.” His name sounds like a song, carried through the room by her voice. He can feel the bulge in his boxers ache as it presses into the mattress. Focus Steven, he thinks to himself. This is all about her. She needs relief. I can wait. He buries his face deeper, pressing it as much as he can against her as he rapidly flicks his tongue. He almost wishes he could crawl completely inside her. He slips his hands under her legs, raising her off the bed slightly.
‘“Don’t stop!” she wails as she rocks her hips, bumping her pelvis into Steven’s large nose. She’s coming already? But I was just getting started! The moan that follows is music to his ears. He can feel her clit twitching against his tongue as she comes. A warm, fuzzy feeling fills his chest. But he craves more. He can’t stop now. He grabs a hold of her thighs and rolls onto his back, bringing her with him.
She pulls away slightly, grasping onto the railing of the bed to steady herself. She hovers over Steven’s face. He shifts his hands from her thighs to her hips and strains slightly to pull her down. He doesn’t want to give her a minute to catch her breath.
This must be the difference between when she’s coming alone and when I make her come, he thinks. When she’s with me, she doesn’t get to decide when she’s done, I do. He pulls her down onto his lips to feed his hunger, to devour her. She lets out a sharp gasp that sends a shiver down his spine.
Steven can’t breathe at this point, the weight of her body is smothering the entire lower half of his face, but he doesn’t care. His tongue craves her taste more than his lungs crave air. His nose is completely numb now as she grinds herself into it. He starts to see black spots in his vision from lack of oxygen but he keeps a steady hold on her legs as she starts to groan. 
The sound she expels is soft and quiet at first then builds to an almost howl. She cries out his name. Yes, come for me, Y/N. Her body spasms and becomes limp above him as he quickly grabs her waist to keep her from falling over.
She scoots back so she’s sitting at the top of Steven’s chest, slightly compressing his still oxygen-starved lungs as he catches his breath. When he sees her face looking down at him his heart melts so deeply that he suppresses a giggle. She looks like a goddess towering over him. Her eyes are heavy and drunk with pleasure from using his face as a toy. She’s so beautiful, and I’m all hers, he thinks to himself. She rolls off of him, landing on the bed with a soft thud, and stares at the ceiling. Her chest rises and falls quickly under her t-shirt.
He was so focused on pleasing her, that he didn’t notice how quiet his mind was until now. Where’s Marc? he wonders. Usually, Marc gets his turn first, then Steven steps in, to cuddle her until she’s ready for another round. But right now, he doesn’t want to waste this opportunity to get more alone time with her while Marc is absent.
Steven rolls off his back so that he is resting on top of her body. He flinches slightly as the erection that he’s been trying to ignore presses into her thigh through his boxers. He lifts her shirt above her chest slightly and buries his face into her breasts. “Y/N,” he says softly. He doesn’t want to stop, he wants to shower her with his love until she falls apart.  “Do you think you can give me one more? Please? You look so pretty when you come.”
Her eyelids flutter closed as her lips curl in a tiny smile. She pushes on his chest so that he lifts himself up off of her. He patiently sits on the bed waiting for a sign, an answer that he can keep going. But she just turns over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the pillows.
Stevens's eyes scan the slope of her lower back and down her bare legs. Fuck. He can’t stop himself from touching her. He grabs a hold of her legs below the knees and pushes them up gently towards her chest. She complies and she is now positioned with her face down on the bed and her ass up in the air. But she still hasn’t responded to his question.
He crawls up to the top of the bed with concern. “Hey,” he says softly, bringing his face close to hers. “Are you okay, love? Do you maybe need a time-out?” She turns to meet his gaze and her hand strokes his cheek.
“No,” she replies, “I’m okay, baby. I can give you one more.”
Steven’s heart jumps. He can feel his pulse racing through his veins, especially in his groin. “Alright then,” he nods. He scurries down the bed so that he is behind her. He places a hand on her back and she arches it in anticipation. He looks down at his boxers to see a dark, wet mark right at the tip of his head. 
Just one more taste before I… His tongue meets her clit once more. The familiar feel of it in his mouth makes him feel like he’s home. He slips a finger inside of her. This is what she wanted, right? While he was asleep.
“Steven,” she says with panic in her voice causing him to lift his head up immediately to answer her.
“Yeah? Everything fine?” His voice is trembling. He prays that she won’t ask him to stop.
“I want you to come too, baby,” she whines. His insides are screaming. It’s almost impossible to ignore the blood rushing to his erection now, it’s so hard that it practically hurts. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. 
“You weren’t too worried about that when I was sleeping beside you, now were you?” He answers, before slipping a second finger inside her. Her wetness is leaking onto the palm of his hand. He lowers his mouth back down. Sucking her clit softly as he curves his fingers. He can feel them almost pressing onto his tongue through her body as they both work on the special spot from the inside and out.
The pressure in cock builds to the point that it’s unbearable now. With his free hand, he pulls his boxers down and kicks them off. He’s careful not to unlatch his mouth as he slowly starts to stroke himself, without her knowing. I’m no better than she is now, am I? All this started because she was wanking off this morning before I woke up, and now look what I’m doing.
Oh, piss off, Marc! I’m kind of in the middle of something.
I can see that. What did you say she was doing when you woke up?
She was, you know, playing with herself when we were sleeping. I’m helping her out now, so she doesn’t have to do that. Steven can feel her inner walls contracting around his fingers as she lets out a soft moan into the pillows.
Steven, give me the body.
Marc, I’m using it right now, just wait your turn. But steven can already feel his control slowly slipping away as Marc is fighting hard to front.
“Steven. Baby. I’m close” she whines.
Steven, give me the body, now!
As soon as Marc gains control, he is so overwhelmed by his senses that he nearly falls over. The taste of her on his lips, the almost painful, throbbing of his cock, the feeling of his fingers moving inside of her, it’s all too much. He stops abruptly to catch his breath.
“Steven?” she lifts her head slightly, wondering why he has suddenly stopped when she is right on the edge.
“Y/N” Marc answers, intentionally making his voice as deep as he can.
“Marc!.” She instantly flinches pushing herself off the pillows as she turns her head back to look at him. 
“Steven told me what you were doing when I was asleep.” Marc growls. She’s on all fours in front of him now. He firmly grabs onto her hips, hard his fingers digging into her skin. 
“Marc, Please. I can explain. You looked so peaceful when you were laying there and…” Marc reaches his hand forward and grabs her throat tightly before she can finish her sentence. He squeezes it slightly as he pulls her neck up towards him until her back is against his chest. His other hand is pressed on her stomach, holding her upright. 
They are both kneeling on the bed now. Marc can feel the mattress vibrating beneath him as her knees tremble. His hard cock is pressed against her bare ass. Marc cannot understand why there is still a layer of fabric between them. 
“Steven can’t even fully undress you before he fucks you, hm?” His hand releases the hold on her throat and moves to the collar of her shirt, tearing it slightly as he pulls. He grabs the fabric and rips it over her head, not caring if the shirt is torn in the process. 
He pushes on her back to lower her down again. As soon as her head hits the mattress he thrusts his entire length inside of her causing her to let out an animalistic cry. He feels her inner walls clench around his cock. He bites his lip and abruptly stops himself from moving.
Holy shit, Steven. You were about to bust! Steven doesn’t respond.
She starts rocking her hips, grinding herself against him as she arches her back further. It feels so good on his length. almost too good. He has to stop her now, or he won’t get another pump in. Out of panic, he lifts his hand and spanks her, a little harder than he intended to. She squeals. 
“Don’t move” Marc says quietly, a little worried he might have taken it too far. He takes a moment to compose himself enough before slowly start moving in and out of her. She’s so warm, so wet.
“Marc, please” she’s begging now. Oh my fucking god.
“Please what,” he says, trying to hide the strain in his voice.
“Please, fuck me,” she almost whispers in return.
Her words are too much for him. His legs give out and he practically falls on top of her. His entire body is pressed against hers as she is laid out flat on her stomach under him. There is a thin layer of sweat between their bodies. She throws her legs out behind them both, locking her ankles around his lower back, pressing him into her harder, squirming against him, trying to please her need.
Marc’s eyes roll back in his head from overstimulation with his face resting on her shoulder. He bites down, leaving a deep imprint of his teeth on her skin. It works in getting her to stop moving. She whimpers and immediately lowers her legs onto the bed. 
“I told you not to move!” He hisses in her ear. He lays there on her, heavily breathing, trying to pull himself together enough to continue.
Marc, stop it! You’re hurting her!
Steven, it’s fine. Just look at her, she’s loving it.
Marc can see the side of her face. A look of longing is in her eyes. He knows that if she wanted him to stop, she would tell him. They have a safe word for exactly that reason. But instead, she’s begging him for more. 
“Good girl,” he praises her for staying still. He finally has calmed down enough to thrust slowly inside her. She doesn’t move a muscle. 
As he builds pace he remembers what she was doing this morning. Did she really think I was gonna let her please herself while I was only an arms-length away? 
“You wanted your own hands over this?” He grits his teeth and growls in her ear. He’s riding out the energy that he has already established from the choke-hold, the ass-slap, and the bite. 
Of course, Marc is not actually mad at her. She’s a grown woman who can touch her own body whenever she wants to. But he knows damn well she can’t make herself come as hard as he can. “I’m going to show you that I can make you feel better, better than your own hands, better than Steven, better than anything else in this world.” 
He increases the speed and intensity of his thrust a little bit more, feeling the ridges inside her tighten around his cock as he pushes himself deeper and deeper. Oh fuck, I need to slow down, he thinks as he notices she’s holding her breath.
“Marc, I’m going to…” He pulls out in a panic and stands up off the bed. He knows as soon as she climaxes, it will make him completely unravel. But he’s not ready for it to be over yet. She slams her fist into the pillow in utter frustration, but he grabs her ankle and pulls her down to the edge of the bed. 
“You don’t get to finish that easy, baby.” He teases while flipping her over onto her back. When he makes eye contact her eyes are glossy. Like she’s about to cry, or maybe she was already crying. Little does she know that every time he’s pulling her away from her orgasm, he’s not just edging her, he’s edging himself too. 
Marc reaches down and presses the palm of his hand against her entire sex and she lets out an involuntary squeak. He brings his hand back to his mouth to lick her sweet juices, then spits on it. Finally, he lowers his hand back down and mixes his spit into her already soaked folds. 
He’s just buying time to cool off before he fucks her into oblivion, but she watched in awe. He grabs her legs and throws them over his shoulders and gets into position, hovering over her. 
He enters her slowly. Just his head is tucked inside her entrance for a moment before he sinks lower down, as slow as he can, wanting to feel every inch of her around him. Even when he bottoms out, he continues pushing so his hip bones are pressing harshly into her skin. 
When Marc finally starts to thrust, he can see on her face that this is going to ruin her. She bites her lip hard and her eyes roll back in her head. He opens his mouth to tell her how fucking good she looks but only a low grunt escapes his throat. 
He can feel his head slamming into her sensitive spot, just past her public bone, every time he enters her. His pace increases more as his hips repeatedly clap against the back of hers. Marc is going feral now, to the point of no return. It’s almost impossible to stop himself, but he strains against the fiery feeling building in his gut. He still doesn’t want this to be over just yet. 
She reaches down to toucher herself, but he immediately smacks her hand away. Oh no, you don’t,  he thinks, I want to take full responsibility for your climax. He places his thumb on her clit and starts to massage it. 
“Marc!” She screams so loud that it sounds like she’s in pain, but the look on her face is pure ecstasy. He feels a gushing sensation as clear, warm liquid splashes out of her body all over his inner thighs and on the bed beneath them. He can’t handle another second. 
“Oh fuck, Y/N” Marc wails. He suddenly feels lightheaded, it feels like his legs can no longer hold his own body weight. He opens his mouth to moan, but his voice is caught in his throat. His cock is twitching and spasming as he spills into her.
She lowers her legs from his shoulders to his sides allowing him to fully collapse onto her. He rests his head in the crook of her neck. “I love you,” Marc proclaims, and he truley does. He loves her more than he has ever loved anything in his life. 
“I love you, too” she whispers back in his ear, her hands running up and down his back. He fully relaxes and starts to zone out. 
Meanwhile, Steven has been waiting patiently for a small opening to take the body back since Marc took over. This is his chance. 
“Oh, my love, what have we done to you!” Steven blurts out without fully realizing he has control again. He jumps off of her. But the blood rushes to his head from Marc’s intense orgasm as he stands, causing him to fumble. He catches himself and clumsily sits back on the edge of the bed.
He puts his face in his hands, completely distraught over what he saw Marc do to their precious girl. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have told Marc what you were doing when I woke up.” 
“Steven. Baby, it’s okay.” She raises her head and puts her elbows behind her back, ready to sit up but he stops her by placing a gentle hand on her stomach. He knows she was about to try to comfort him, but she’s the one that needs comfort right now. 
“No, don’t you move,” Steven quickly stands. “I need to get you all cleaned up.” He rushed to the bathroom to find a clean washcloth and adds a tiny amount of mild soap to it. He soaks it with warm water before ringing it out and hurrying to return to her. She’s still laying where he left her. 
Steven meticulously wipes her down, careful not to put too much pressure on her swollen, delicate bits. He scoops her up in his arms to carry her to the top of the bed, then gently places her down so she is laying on her side. He’ll strip the soiled sheets to wash them later. 
Steven examines her closely, head to toe. He kisses the red marks left on her throat where Marc’s hand, his hand, was wrapped around it. He kisses the dark circles starting to form on her hips. He finds a raised hand mark on her butt and kisses that too. He ends at her feet, kissing her ankle where she was pulled down the bed. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” It was the worst thing in the world for Steven to find injuries on her, knowing that they came from his own body. His eyes grow misty as he swallows a sob. 
“Oh, Steven!” She shifts from her side to her back as she pulls him down onto her so his head is now resting on her bare chest. “I like it when Marc does this to me. That’s why we have a safe word, right?” He nods. They do have a safe word, but he has never remembered ever hearing it or having to use it himself. 
He relaxes into her soft chest, her fingers combing through his hair, soothing him. He suddenly feels totally exhausted. He starts to doze off when a thought crossed his mind. What if I fall asleep and she feels the need to touch herself again?
“Yes?” Her voice is soft and gentle
“Can you promise to wake me up next time?”
(Read the same story from the reader's POV here)
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loki-hargreeves · a day ago
☽ Strangers in the Night ☾ 2
Pairing: Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x fem!Reader Warnings/Tags: a little bit of angst, mentions of death, reader is threatened, fluff, pining, drinking alcohol, descriptions of DID according to the comics so it’s inaccurate to real life, some explicit thoughts  Word Count: 10,2K Chapter Summary: Steven has a day off from work because the museum is now an active crime scene. He asks you to meet up with him and that is exactly what you need. The two of you spend the day together and then one thing leads to another; you finally meet Marc Spector. A/N: Marc Spector has entered the chat and I hope you like it! 
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Chapter 2 - ‘I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free’
Thick and heavy clouds weighed like a blanket above the London sky, making the morning dull and grey. Dense mist was hovering above the capital and spreading throughout every street and alley. Something told Steven it would rain any moment now but he didn’t mind, this kind of weather was something he was used to. Besides, he wouldn’t be outside all day anyway as he was on his way to work. 
There was a joyous smile on his face as he made his way off the bus, you occupying his thoughts. For the past few days, you and Steven had been texting each other a lot and Steven was happier than ever. He finally had a friend. You were happy, too.
As Steven neared the mighty building, he quickly realized something was wrong. Reporters and curious people had gathered in front of the entrance and... was that law enforcement? He couldn’t make sense of what the people were yelling and prying on but it sounded hectic. Reporters yelling over one another and snapping pictures or anything they deemed interesting. 
“What the f-”
Something’s not right, Marc commented on the inside, stating the obvious. 
“Yeah, ‘suppose you could say that,” Steven agreed with Marc as a sick feeling began to form in his gut. Although Steven had no clue what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel anxious. Was this somehow his fault? It wouldn’t be the first time the museum suffered because of him. Then again, Steven wasn’t Mr Knight anymore. Marc was done with the Moon Knight business. How could this be either of their fault? It must’ve been something else.
Bright yellow barricade tape was the only thing that separated the police from the journalists that were desperate for something, anything at all they could smack on paper and sell. The tape said “do not cross” repeatedly yet Steven didn’t know what to do. He felt so confused as he took in his surroundings, noticing the crime scene workers walking in and out of the building. In the midst of the chaos, Steven saw his manager Marieta nearby, talking to a detective. She had her arms crossed in front of her torso protectively and a crumpled- up tissue in her hand which she squeezed onto tightly, most likely due to stress.
She must’ve had answers. 
Steven walked up to them as close as he could, now being right behind the yellow tape. Marieta noticed him and excused herself, leaving the detective alone with his notes as she walked to Steven, her many keys dangling around her neck. although much lighter now as if she had given keys to people. Now up-close Steven saw the scared look on her face, revealing that this was so much worse than just a smashed up bathroom. 
“Are you alright?” Steven needed to know, genuinely concerned about the kind woman. He had never seen her like that before as he was used to her cheerful self at work and the encouraging words she always told him. Marieta was in all ways a better co-worker and manager than Donna had ever been. Perhaps in the beginning, she had a jump start to gain Steven’s care because she had replaced Donna, but Steven respected the woman too. She was a good person. Besides, whenever Steven met new people, he treated them how he wished to be treated back. Better start off good, right?
“I’m fine, Steven,” Marieta was quick to let him know, “didn’t you read the group chat this morning?”
The bloody work group chat. Steven had a bad habit of not reading the messages people sent there as most of the time it wasn’t work related. His phone gallery was full of otter pictures and memes. Of course, the one time there was something important in the chat, he hadn’t seen it.
“No, sorry. What’s going on?” Steven looked past her shoulder, catching the detective looking right at him with a blank expression. The dark sunglasses hid his eyes but Steven could feel the man’s intense gaze on him regardless.
“I don’t really know. Seems like a heist but it didn’t go too well. There were two bodies in there, Steven. The night guards found them and I’ve been here since. The police are trying to figure out what happened,” Marieta finally let Steven know what all this commotion was all about.
“Bodies?” Steven was shocked, having expected something less serious. Now it made sense why the place was surrounded by people and cameras, why the tape surrounded the entire museum to keep people away from the active crime scene. 
“Yeah, it’s a bloody mess,” Marieta exhaled deeply, seeming tired. “Anyway you have a day off. I don’t know how long we’ll be closed for but I’ll keep you informed, alright?” Marieta didn’t want to keep Steven there for much longer than necessary. 
“Okay,” Steven just nodded, clutching onto the strap of his bag as he tried to wrap his mind around this.
“Take care,” Marieta reached over the barricade tape to pat Steven’s shoulder in a friendly way.
“You too,” Steven smiled and then watched as she walked away, returning to the detective who had been staring at Steven for a while now. Steven assumed he was just doing his job and thought nothing more of it. Not when something greater was puzzling his mind.
How did a heist gone wrong end with two dead people? If they were on the same team, who had been there there to kill them? Why did the killing happen inside the museum? Weren’t heists supposed to take place over a very brief amount of time? Killing two people and stealing something in just minutes was a lot for most people. 
“This is strange, innit? Doesn’t make much sense,” Steven thought out loud as he walked away with no true direction. 
It’s not our problem either, Marc reminded him. It was blunt but true. Or at least so they thought. 
“But why are they dead if it was just a heist?” 
Maybe they got greedy. Someone wanted the price all for themselves and got rid of the others, Marc suggested a possibility. He had seen so much greed and betrayal in his life that this scenario wouldn’t shock him at all.
That made sense to Steven and he chose to believe Marc must’ve been right. Nonetheless, Steven couldn’t ignore the feeling that told him Marc was wrong. It was as if Steven had been here in a dream - or a nightmare - and he felt guilty. Although it didn’t make sense to feel that way as Steven knew nothing about this. Perhaps it was just the pain from the past talking? 
Look at it on the bright side, you have a day off. Maybe you can spend it with your crush? Marc tried to cheer Steven up, hating it when Steven was so anxiety ridden and upset. Besides, Marc would’ve been lying had he said he didn’t want to see you again even if it was through Steven. 
“Oh shut it, will you? She’s not my crush. We’re not twelve, Marc,” Steven got defensive but at least he cracked a small smile. That was much better already.
Whatever you say, buddy.
                               The clock was nearing noon. Although it had only been hours since the major fuck-up at the museum, it felt like days had passed. The driver had driven you and Spencer right to the London base of the Crew of the Arcane. You had only been there once or twice before and this time you saw parts of it you didn’t even know existed. Everything felt like a horrible joke or a fever dream.
A team of medics met you and dragged Spencer away from you when you had first arrived at the base. You remembered how the driver pushed you forward as you had stood there and stared at the medics who were taking Spencer away. Despite it all, he felt like your safety net, an anchor that you could hold onto when the stormy sea tried to send you to foreign shores. Being at the base without him terrified you. Not knowing what they were going to do to him was absolutely awful. The place was a maze and even if you tried to run, there was no way you’d find the exit.
The driver had forced you into an elevator that went underground where the sun no longer reached you. He had locked you inside a windowless room that had a chair and a table in it. That’s where you had spent hours all alone, left with nothing more than your thoughts. 
Were they going to kill you? 
Would Spencer be okay?
What the hell was going on? How did it go so wrong so fast?
At some point a stranger had brought you a laptop and told you to review all the footage from last night. So you did as told, staring at the bright screen with tired eyes and witnessing everything all over again. The headphones were pressed against your ears and you could hear everything as well, including yourself. 
It didn’t surprise you that they saved all the recordings and footage of the heists. Of course they did. They never told you about this method but you knew it was far from the only secret they kept. After last night, you questioned everything you knew about COTA. This web of lies and crime ran deeper than you could comprehend, spreading further than even Spencer knew of.
Scanning over every pixel on the screen again and again at least confirmed one thing; at no point did you see a man entering the building. There was no way you could’ve warned them because you never knew he was there to begin with. How this man had gotten inside, you did not know. 
When you listened in on the moment where everything had turned from bad to worse, you felt tears in your eyes. The panic from last night tried to resurface, anxiety whispering into your ear that you were in so much trouble. Run! Run for your life! The men were yelling and you heard things now that you hadn’t last night as you had been so shocked and scared. They were struggling. 
It wasn’t the outsider that had initiated the fight. No, that had been one of your guys who had felt the need to do so for whatever reason. To defend their pride perhaps. 
When the stranger picked up the mic and spoke directly into it, you held your breath. There wasn’t an ounce of fear or hesitation in his voice,
No debiste hacer eso
What was that supposed to mean? What weren’t you supposed to do? Was he referring to the entire heist or just stealing the artefact? Or was the man talking about the men who had tried to hurt him first? Was it a warning?
Would he come after you too?
There were so many questions that you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out the answers to. At this point you were fed up and exhausted with COTA. You had spent hours locked up in the cold room and you were tired, throat dry and your bones aching because the chair offered little to no comfort. Watching and listening to the heist was tormenting you. All you wanted was to go home and put this all behind you. Forever.
Spencer had told you it wouldn’t be that easy. 
When the door finally unlocked again, you hoped they would let you go. Of course that didn’t happen, not with your luck. Nico Williams himself walked into the room, his expensive leather boots pressing into the concrete floor as a handful of his henchmen followed by closely. The man wore a deep brown suit that complimented his complexion and well-maintained beard well. A fortune’s worth of gold rings were wrapped around his fingers as a matching lapel pin rested on his suit jacket, the pin resembling a snake. 
It was fitting as Nico was one of the worst and most venomous vipers around, loyal to himself and himself only. He’d sink his teeth into anyone that got in his way, not sparing an ounce of venom. Nico was tall and his presence was large, making you feel rather small and insignificant under the same light as him - as much as you hated to admit that. 
The dangerous man leaned against the table with his palms pressed against the smooth surface, looking right at you in a pressuring way. You forced yourself to keep your head held high, never looking away from him. No matter how afraid you felt, you had to stay strong. 
“What the fuck happened last night?!” Nico growled like a beast, demanding answers that would satisfy him. His voice echoed in the near-empty room and it was a miracle you hadn’t flinched. This man was was like dynamite and everyone was always wary around him, not wishing to make him explode so they ended up walking on eggshells. You knew now what he was capable of so you had to choose your words carefully.
“Someone interfered with the mission. They must’ve been there before we arrived because at no point did I see an outsider enter the museum.”
“If they were already there, what took them so long to attack, huh?” Nico tilted his head, not finding sense in your story. He treated this as if it was your fault. You had been the lookout, the eyes and the ears that was supposed to guide them in and out smoothly. What was so difficult about such a simple job? 
“I don’t know, sir,” You nearly grimaced as you called him that - as you had no true respect for the man at all. He sickened you. Oh if only you were given a chance to call him what you truly believed he was. 
Nico clenched his jaw and seemed to swallow his next words. Silent like a predator ready to pounce, he rounded the table until he was right by your side. You could only watch as Nico lowered himself closer to you and then put his filthy hand on your face, a hand that had surely taken the lives of more people you could ever count. Was some of the blood in his palms poured there by you?
Prior to this you truly believed you and Spencer only took part in heists in which no one got hurt in. However that perfect illusion shattered last night. Spencer revealed to you just how terrible COTA truly was, confirming things you hadn’t even dared to think of before. When he had called you naive, it had been justified. Nico was neck-deep in an ocean of crimson. 
“You’re lucky I like you, sweetheart,” Nico revealed, his words making you furious. Had he not been as powerful as he was, with people behind him ready to defend him in a heartbeat, you would’ve smacked his dirty hand away. That option was out of the question though. No one was dumb enough to act out in front of Nico unless they had a death wish. 
All of a sudden, Nico grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to look up. The sudden action startled you, causing your heart to leap to your throat. His touch was painful but nothing you couldn’t handle. 
There were unspoken words between you. Despite your silence, Nico could tell you weren’t too happy with him either. The dissatisfaction in your eyes made him smirk. It amused him. He liked his girls a little bit feisty. Taming them was the most fun.
“If I see something in that footage that you failed to see, or if I find out you were lying to me, I might just have to cut your little tongue off,” Nico threatened you so naturally. He had done and said much worse but he enjoyed the spark of fear that his words ignited on your face. That’s what he wanted to see. If he couldn’t get your respect, he would stop at nothing to get you under control another way. Fear usually worked best.
“You know, I was beginning to think that maybe you wanted to walk away from all this. I hope it’s not true because it would be a shame you lost focus and caused all this over something as silly as that, yeah?” Nico finally let go of you and you had to stop yourself from wiping your face, getting rid of the feeling of his fingers on your skin. 
At that moment, you swore your heart sunk to the very bottom your stomach. How did he know? A whirlwind of emotions spun inside you. This was too much. 
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” That was a lie but you had to say it. Nico was testing you, toying with you but deep down he wished he was wrong because he did not want to let you go. 
When he saw how much his words frightened you, it felt like a slap in the face. That was all the confirmation that was needed. You lied to him but it was what Nico wanted to hear. For now, he decided to let you tell your pretty little lies because he was convinced you wouldn’t dream of running away. The fear he instilled in you was sure to keep you where he wanted. 
“Good girl,” Nico seemed pleased with that, “you’re in too deep to leave now, sweet cheeks. I truly hope that last night wasn’t your fault. There could be a bright future for you in COTA.”
Or no future at all. This mess could get you killed.
Could he tell you were on the brink of tears? That you felt torn apart on the inside? Was this fun for him?
“Take her away from my sight. Her friend should be all patched up now,” Nico ordered his henchmen, knowing they would do exactly as he wished. Everything else was a complete shitshow but at least he hinted at the fact Spencer was alright. When you were so deep in misery, hearing that brought you much needed relief.
“Oh and one last thing,” Nico stood up and watched as you were yanked away from the chair that you had been glued to for the past few hours, “Pick up the files for the next mission on your way out, will you? If you're off the hook after this, I want you on this case.”
If this fucking asshole wasn’t going to let you leave, you would stop at nothing to take him down from the inside. 
                                “There, there,” You helped Spencer on the couch, making sure he didn’t put too much pressure on his injured side. The wound was stitched and cleaned yet he seemed to be in misery. A bulletwound would do that. Now he would be spending the next few days on your couch because he couldn’t look after himself. You could’ve thrown him out if you wanted to but the thought of doing so seemed too cruel. 
“Thanks,” Spencer mumbled quietly, like he was ashamed to say it but he did it anyway. 
That was so much better than nothing. Lately, you hadn’t expected anything good from him at all so a small thanks was enough.
“Just don’t bleed out all over my couch, okay?” You tried desperately to lighten up the mood, pushing away the sense of doom that tried to swallow you whole.It was behind you like a dark, stormy cloud that was just waiting for one moment of weakness, then it would surround you fully. The folder with the papers of the next mission was on the coffee table and you refused to look into it now. That could wait.
There was a heaviness in you, your eyelids feeling like they were made out of stone as you struggled to keep your eyes open. When was the last time you had slept properly? 
“I’ll try not to,” Spencer chuckled which he instantly regretted as the movement sent a lightning of pain throughout his body, forcing him to grunt out in pain. 
Seeing him like that was horrible but you had no words. Everything was far too overwhelming at that moment. 
“Just get some sleep,” You sighed and hurried away from the tiny living room. Everything that happened next was a blur as your exhausted body barely managed to carry you forward. Dotty greeted you in the kitchen and you fed her and changed the water bowl and given her cold, fresh water. At some point you brought a tall glass of water to Spencer along with snacks so that he didn’t have to get up if he was thirsty. Somehow you managed to rid yourself of your clothes, throwing them on the bedroom floor before you eventually collapsed into bed.
Finally, you could just lie down and try to relax.
Despite having a rather cheap mattress, it had never felt as comfortable as it did now. In the matter of seconds, the comfort of being in bed had lulled you to a deep, dreamless slumber.
You didn’t sleep long.
Despite how easily you had fallen asleep, your mind didn’t give you much rest. Something wicked and sinister had been formed in the pits of your mind which had startled you back to the waking world. Eyes popped open, you sat up in bed and realized you were out of breath. Nothing was out of place yet it felt like an earthquake had hit you. 
Everything was fine. 
Dorothy was sleeping peacefully on the cat tree in the corner. She loved sleeping in the same room as you which was why you had moved it into the bedroom instead of keeping it in the living room like originally planned. Seeing her was enough to make you relax.
It was almost 4PM. You definitely hadn’t slept long enough but also realized you wouldn’t fall back to sleep either. A shower should energize you a little bit, you presumed. 
After a warm shower, you felt slightly better. The water had rinsed away the stress and Spencer’s blood that had somehow gotten underneath your shirt. Now feeling lighter, you grabbed your phone and hoped to reach Steven. The sweet man was the only person you wanted to talk to right now. Somehow even after just knowing him for only a few days, you knew you could rely on him to cheer you up. Without even knowing it, Steven made your days brighter. 
To your surprise, there was a message already awaiting you from Steven.
1:15PM Steven - Hey! How are you, love? I was wondering if you’d like to do something today, if you’re free. Something wicked happened at work so I have today off. Would love to see you again! :)
Something wicked, huh? You knew exactly what he was talking about and it made you feel monstrous. If only he knew your part in it all.
3:57PM You - Hii! Sorry it took me a while to reply. I’d love to hang out, Steven. When and where? I’ll be there.
                                  A ‘ding’ caught Marc’s attention. It came from his pocket. He reached for the phone and put his hand above the screen to provide shade so he could see it more easily. Being outside when the screen brightness was low rendered it near impossible to see anything at all. 
Seeing that it was a message from you wasn’t surprising at all. Marc felt an odd sense of pride almost. To him, it was clear as daylight you were interested yet Steven insisted it was just friendly.
“She replied,” Marc told Steven who was in the headspace. After they had left the museum, they had decided to run some errands. Marc fronted and he had spent the past few hours enjoying the day off. It had rained earlier but now the gloomy clouds were finally clearing out, revealing the sun that hadn’t quite set yet but it wasn’t too bright either. The day was nice despite the rather peculiar start.
What did she say? Steven wanted to know, sounding like an excited child. 
“Look for yourself,” Marc opened the message and then felt his control slipping. Luckily, the shift was more comfortable now unlike what it had been just a few months back. Dying and working out his problems with Steven in the Duat had really helped. Who would’ve thought?
Steven grinned as he read the text, knowing that soon he would see you again. He could hardly wait.
4:00 PM Steven - Have you eaten yet? I’m close to this bakery I’ve heard good things about. They should have the best sandwiches in London. We could meet here once you’re ready and figure something out from there. Does that sound good?
Reading Steven’s message made you realize you hadn’t eaten anything all day. Right now, the thought of eating something with him sounded like paradise and you were willing to do anything to make it real. 
4:02 PM You - That sounds great. If you send me the address I’ll be on my way in five. See you soon, Steven 💚
Was that intentional? Steven knew people sent each other heart emojis all the time. Gods, he knew he told Marc they weren’t twelve anymore but there he was, staring at the little heart emoji and wondering if it had any deeper meaning. Hoping that perhaps it did. 
Maybe Steven cared a little bit more already than he was willing to admit? Or was the desire to be loved doing all the talking?
                                    The nerves didn’t really hit you until you were getting out of the taxi, the little bakery being on the other side of the street now. On the way there, you had just been excited to see Steven again. Now you were worried he’d be upset over what had happened at his place of employment and that you wouldn’t be able to conceal the guilt. Oh, you didn’t even want to know how he’d react if he knew what you were a part of.
All of that was quickly wiped away when you saw him standing there with the most adorable smile on his face. Steven waved at you from the other side of the street and you were quick to cross the road, making sure you weren’t walking directly in front of any cars either. Today, he was wearing a burgundy button-up shirt with a fun, striped brown and white tie. It seemed like he had dressed for work and decided to stay in that outfit for the rest of the day.
“Hey!” You greeted him happily, opening your arms to invite him into a friendly hug. Nothing too much.
Steven was surprised by that but he didn’t hesitate to hug you back, adoring how comfortable he felt around you already. When his arms wrapped around your body - the scent of your shampoo made its way to his lungs - he swore his heart skipped a beat. The sweetness of lavender and honey gave him the sweetest thoughts.
“Hi, love. How are you?” Steven asked as he pulled away from the hug, perhaps too soon as he hadn’t wished to make things awkward right off the bat. 
Little did he know how much that small hug meant to you, especially on a day like this. Being held by him so gently was a nice reminder of the fact that there were still soft and loving people in the world. Steven was certainly one of those people.
“I’m fine, definitely much better now,” You answered him casually as the two of you entered the bakery, the scent of fresh bread surrounding you and intensifying the longing to bite into something delicious. They also had a selection of fresh berries and fruits, smoothies and other treats you couldn’t wait to get your hands on.
Steven was overjoyed to hear that. It was good to know someone wanted to spend time with him and that it actually meant something to them. There was nothing that forced you to be there, nothing you wanted out of this. This was just two people hanging out and nothing more yet for Steven, that was priceless.
“How are you?” You turned to face him, curious to hear about his day. Would he speak of what happened at the museum?
“Good,” Steven quickly reassured you, “I’ve been thinking about these pastries all day. Can’t wait to try them!”
Did he know just how adorable he was?
“And I’m happy to see you. Glad we have more time on us now. I’d like to get to know you better,” Steven added as you two got in line, standing behind a younger couple. They were holding hands as they tried to figure out what drinks they wanted to order with their baked goods. They seemed to be infatuated with one another, which must’ve been lovely.��
“I’d like to get to know you better too,” You admitted honestly, failing to stop smiling around him. It was unfair how easily Steven flustered you, as he had been doing over text for days now. “Starting with this, what berries and fruits would you like? Everything looks too good, I can’t decide...”
As you went on about the food, Steven got a little bit lost in you. The way you gestured toward the menu and the range of options they offered, how you carried yourself. The way you looked at him with such carefree joy and genuinely wished to know more about him. Steven couldn’t believe he had met you, that you had been the one to start a conversation with him in the first place. 
Steven felt lucky. 
                    Perhaps you felt even luckier when you found yourself sitting on a park bench with Steven, a paper bag full of baked goods and fresh treats between you as you were eating sandwiches that Steven had heard such good things about. The praise hadn’t been without reason as both of you were convinced some mystical sandwich god had made these themselves. 
“I’m so glad we tried these!” You revealed to Steven after washing down a bite with a sip of the smoothie you had ordered. The setting sun painted the park in a shade of gold, deep oranges settling wherever the sun could reach. As you turned to look at Steven when the golden sun illuminated his features, you nearly choked on the drink.
He was truly a gorgeous man. 
His side profile made him look like a statue carved by the most skilled and talented artists time itself had to offer. Long eyelashes around his stunning brown eyes that looked warm and inviting in the sunlight. The soft stubble on his jaw made you wonder what it would feel like against your skin. 
Was it wrong to think of him that way when you barely knew him? If so, why did it feel like you could trust him more than you trusted Spencer, the man you had known for years?
“I know! Me too. And something about eating outside just makes everything taste better, don’t you think?” Steven looked at you and then took a sip of his drink, awaiting an answer.
“Yeah,” You agreed and hoped your expression didn’t reveal that you were absolutely mesmerized by him. “Great company makes it taste even better too.”
Now it was Steven’s time to feel a little bit flustered. He felt heat spreading on his cheeks at the compliment, as subtle as it had been. Not that many people had ever said anything like that to him before. Not even to Marc. Kindness was truly rare in their lives. 
Steven felt bad for not having told you about Marc yet. He was going to for sure, but he was afraid you would be judgmental. He didn’t want to scare you away. Not now when he finally had something good and wonderful in his life, something he wanted to hold onto. 
Was that a hint of red on his face that you saw? 
Although it was fun to watch his reaction, you didn’t want to be cruel either. To take the focus off of what you had said, you reached into the paper bag and pulled out a small box of grapes, opening it and offering him some of the juicy, green treats.
“Want some?” 
“Oh that’d be lovely,” Steven was glad you changed the topic because he was certain you could tell he was blushing. He grabbed a small handful of them, “Thank you.”
You put the box down on your leg and grabbed a few of them too, popping them into your mouth. They were incredibly sweet and flavorful, which must’ve been good luck since sometimes you swore grapes tasted like nothing.
“You know, the ancient Egyptians loved grapes,” Steven mentioned but quickly silenced himself, seemingly unsure of himself, “Sorry. I’m not at work. Don’t want to bore you with this stuff.”
“Steven,” You cut him off before he could allow himself to feel bad. “I don’t mind you talking about that at all.”
“You don’t?”
“Why would I? Please, tell me more. It’s fascinating to listen to someone who actually knows what they’re talking about,” You promised that it didn’t bother you. In fact, the way his eyes lit up made you feel excited. Steven was so smart and the last thing you wanted was to step on his knowledge. Listening to his cute accent and hearing his pretty voice getting all enthusiastic about the topic was something you were certain you’d never grow tired of.
You definitely visited the museum a few extra times in preparation of the heist for other reasons than precaution. 
“Alright then, but consider yourself warned. Sometimes when I talk about these things it’s like I could ramble on for ages,” Steven admitted as he reached to grab another grape, not realizing the box was on your thigh until he had grabbed some. Seeing his hand so close to you instantly sent your mind elsewhere, thinking about what if would feel like if he simply rested his hand on your thighs or perhaps touched you somewhere else entirely.  
He definitely noticed it now but he didn’t say anything, just looking away rather innocently as if nothing had happened at all. That had he somehow missed the box of grapes he would’ve touched your thighs. That was a bit too fast forward, right? Steven tried not to think about it. Marc definitely thought about it.
“I promise I won’t be mad if you tell me to zip it,” Steven let you know. 
There was no way in hell you’d even dream of doing that. 
“Bring it on, Grant,” Instead you only encouraged him to tell you about the fun facts and intricate knowledge he possessed, more than willingly hearing him out.
                                      By the time you were finished eating and talking in the park, the sun had fully set but the passage of time had felt like a few minutes at most. Spending time with Steven made it flow differently and you were having the time of your life. When was the last time you felt so free?
You had thrown your trash into the bin and started walking without any plans. It was just nice to walk and talk, trying to figure out what to do as you were already on the go. 
Eventually, you spotted a rather small yet charming bar that wasn’t too packed. Good music was playing from the speakers that you could hear from the pavement as colourful lights shone from inside the place. 
“Oh we should go in there!” You pointed at the bar and only then saw what it was called, the Sunny tavern. 
Steven followed the direction of your finger and saw the bar. The thought of going inside there with you was thrilling. As normal as it was for most people, it seemed like so much for fun both of you. Not necessarily to get wasted, but to have a good time. What could possibly go wrong?
“Alright, yeah. Lead the way!” Steven agreed, already wondering what he’d order. He had to admit that he wasn’t too familiar with bars but surely Marc could help if needed. What was it Marc had bought once? Was it a bottle of whisky or rum? Steven truly couldn’t recall. It had been far too bitter for his taste anyway.
Before you realized what you were doing, you grabbed Steven’s hand as if to guide him across the road with you. By the time you realized your fingers intertwined with his and Steven stood there, frozen on the spot, it was too late to pretend it hadn’t already happened. Fuck. In the span of two or three seconds you already convinced yourself you had crossed a boundary and he’d run away, never to look back at you ever again.
“Oh I’m so sorry-”
“Don’t be,” Steven got over the initial shock and he squeezed your hand a little bit, trying to convince you it was alright. Sure, your action was bold but it boosted Steven’s confidence. He was happy and he didn’t want you to worry about holding his hand. Not when it made him feel over the moon. 
This was nice.
“Okay. I’m not sorry then.”
As if he had magical abilities, Steven had pushed your worries and fears away and replaced them with joy and butterflies fluttering in your belly. His hand was soft, just like you remembered yet calloused fingertips pressed into your skin. Knowing that he wanted to hold your hand too was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
The last time someone had touched you let alone held your hand felt like a lifetime ago. None of the past pain mattered now. You were about to go have a wonderful night at the Sunny tavern and Steven Grant was holding your hand. 
Together, you crossed the street with shit-eating grins on your face, like teenagers who were walking through the school hallways holding hands for the first time and not caring about the others that were looking. 
As you entered the bar, the music grew louder. Right now, a queen song was playing, Somebody to Love to be precise which instantly boosted the already great mood. People seemed to be enjoying themselves. The furniture was outdated and dark but it somehow worked, creating an old-timey feel that you both enjoyed. Perhaps the red carpeted floor in the entry was gross, but other than that the bar seemed nice. 
“Should we order something?” You wondered as you scanned the bar, looking for empty tables or booths. There were a few which was good because you didn’t wish to be pressed against drunk strangers either. There was a small dance floor in the far right corner with a scene with karaoke equipment. No one was currently singing but the TV-screen on the wall revealed that another round of karaoke would begin in 18 minutes. Someone with the nickname ‘Modern Elvis’ was up next with the song ‘jailhouse rock’. 
“Sure. What would you like?” Steven wondered as you sat by the bar, searching for something interesting on the menu. 
“A piña colada would be nice,” You craved something sweet yet strong enough so you could order just one drink and get tipsy. You didn’t want to spend the night at the bar ordering drink after drink either. Getting drunk or spending way too much money wasn’t the plan. 
You never let go of each other as you sat down, neither knowing if you should or shouldn’t. It’s not like you wanted to let go either so you let it stretch out for a bit longer than intended. 
“What were you thinking about getting?” 
“I’m not sure yet...” Steven admitted as he tried to make up his mind. That was hard when he was so focused on the fact your hand was in his and it felt so right.
Steven looked past the bartender who was serving another person and into the mirror behind the bar, his reflection not matching himself. Marc was looking back at him with a smirk that nearly made Steven feel embarrassed. 
Not a crush, hm? Marc repeated what Steven had said earlier that day. It wasn’t fair that he could speak when Steven wasn’t able to reply, not with you right by his side. 
The bartender handed the receipt to the drunk man who immediately threw it away, only caring about his beer, then he made his way to you. 
“Good evening. How can I help you?” The ginger man asked routinely, surely for the zillionth time that night. He seemed friendly though. 
Before you could order your own drink and pay, Steven spoke, “a piña colada for the lady and I’ll have a...” his dark eyes scanned the menu one more time and in a rush, Steven decided what he wanted, “...a tequila sunrise, please.”
“I can do that,” The cheerful bartender answered, already grabbing two clean glasses from under the bar. 
“Tequila sunrise?” You were surprised, “do you have work tomorrow?” Instantly, you regretted your choice of words. Bad timing. Luckily, Steven didn’t even seem to realize that. 
The bartender then added the drinks to the total and then handed the card-reader to Steven. As he waited for someone to pay, he began preparing the drinks. 
“Steven I can pay,” You felt bad when you saw him pulling out his wallet.
“This one’s on me, love. Please, allow me,” Steven wanted to be a gentleman. After you made such a bold move by grabbing his hand, he wanted to do something nice too. Even if it was something as small as paying for your cocktail. 
Deciding it wasn’t worth arguing over, you let him do as he pleased. Part of you liked it too, being treated that way. Steven was truly special. 
After he paid and the bartender finished making your fancy drinks, you moved from the bar to a booth in the corner with a direct view of the dance floor and karaoke stage. The TV-screen said 13 minutes now. You wondered which one of these people was Modern Elvis. 
You sat next to Steven and took a sip of your drink, loving the sweet taste of pineapple and coconut on your tongue. After such an interesting day, for the lack of a better word, this tasted heavenly. 
Steven looked at the glass in front of him, wondering how the bartender could make a drink look gradient; starting off as bright red at the bottom and being yellow at the top. That was impressive however he wondered why you had said something about him going to work when he ordered it. Was it supposed to get him drunk? Just one puny glass of it? He supposed he was just about to find out.
“Hey, cheers for us. I’m glad we’ve met,” You raised your glass a little bit and turned to sit in a way you faced Steven completely. 
Steven didn’t say it out loud but he thought you were cute. Especially when you looked at him with that spark in your eyes. He raised his glass too, “cheers, love.”
After clinking your glasses, you both took sips of the drinks. Steven was surprised by how delicious his drink was. He was careful not to drop the orange slice wedged onto the edge of the glass, right next to a tiny, blue umbrella as he put the glass down with a thud.
“Woah, that’s really good!” Steven had to let you know, genuinely impressed by the cocktail. 
“You’ve never had it before?” You were curious, not judgmental at all. 
“No, not that one,” Steven revealed. There were many things he hadn’t gotten a chance to do. After all, he had spent a large chunk of his life in the headspace, hidden somewhere that he didn’t even acknowledge. There was so much darkness. That was Marc’s life. Not Steven’s. 
“Just remember to drink your water and you’ll be fine,” You reminded him sweetly. Steven could only watch as your fingers grabbed the bright, pink cherry on top of your drink. You put it between your lips and took a bite of it.
Bloody hell, Steven swore that was one of the hottest things he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Those lips wrapped around the cherry made him think about them wrapped around something else... no, Steven had to stop thinking like that. He refused to let his mind wander that far.
“So uh, I don’t think I asked. How was your morning? What have you been up to?” Steven needed to take his mind off of your pretty lips and the way they looked like the most delicious forbidden fruit he couldn’t wait to taste. It wasn’t right. 
You shrugged as you sucked the drink out of the black straw, trying to come up with an answer. “Not too bad. I was just dealing with this project and that was stressful but I think it’s all good now.”
“Oh right, the project,” Steven remembered. The day you met you hadn’t mentioned much more about it other than the fact you were working on it and it had something to do with history. When you had gone out for coffee, you had been far too distracted by one another for Steven to be able to actually help you with it furthermore. “How’s it coming along? Your research, I mean.”
Steven was being so sweet and thoughtful. He had no way of knowing what the project was really about which somehow made you feel amoral. Was it wrong of you let get close to him when you were putting him at risk by just existing? If Nico Williams knew of your desire to leave COTA, surely they had eyes on your private life. 
A sudden yet intense fear spiked in your gut. Would they come after Steven?
“Great!” You lied with as much confidence as you could, “it’s coming along great. Might be ready for another project soon.” You had to swallow the filthy feeling in your mouth with the drink, hating your lies and half-truths. Steven deserved better.
“That’s exciting!” Steven was happy for you, truly. In his mind, this was a good thing. 
However, deep in the headspace was someone who instantly noticed the change in your demeanour. Steven had noticed it too but Marc recognized it. He questioned it in a more calculated way. Something was definitely off. This was more than normal stress over just work. Marc didn’t know exactly what it was but he had a bad feeling. Whether you were in danger or trouble, he didn’t like either option. For now, Marc decided to keep this to himself. 
                                        One drink turned to two as the atmosphere in the bar encouraged you to let go a little, to relax and have a good time. Eventually, you excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving Steven alone for a moment as he listened to Modern Elvis jamming out to another Elvis song. Steven loved it. Some people were even on the dance floor, too drunk to care about how they looked as they swayed to the music. An elderly couple in particular seemed to be having the time of their lives. 
During his time alone, Marc finally spoke up again.
Something’s weird, Steven, Marc started ominously.
“What do you mean, mate?” Steven furrowed his brows, definitely feeling the effects of two drinks as he wasn’t much of a drinker. This was fun. He felt high on joy right now and he didn’t want Marc to squash that feeling. Like a bug.
Didn’t you see the way she acted when you asked about the project? 
“Must be stress, you know? She said it’s confidential, must be important stuff,” Steven assumed, not wanting to believe there was more to it. 
Marc realized Steven could be right yet he couldn’t shake the lingering, serious feeling away. It felt like a dagger that sunk into his brain and forced him to think about it. That sharp edge wasn’t pleasant. 
You pushed the heavy bathroom door open, excited to return to Steven’s side. As you walked out of the crowded room, a woman who was just about to enter bumped into you. For whatever reason, she had brought her drink with her and the moment your heads butted, the liquid spilled all over you, soaking the front of your shirt completely.
It was ice cold and when it hit your warm skin, you gasped and jumped back. Goosebumps rose all over your skin instantly, shivers being sent down your spine. The contact of the icy drink was chilling.
“I’m so sorry!” The brunette seemed genuinely apologetic, covering her mouth in shock as she realized what had happened. 
“It’s fine,” You told her, knowing it was simply an accident.
“I...I can dry it off. I’ll grab paper towels. I’m so sorry-”
“Hey,” You cut her off gently, ignoring the sticky drink that stained your shirt, “it’s alright. It was an accident. I’ll be okay.”
Seeing how upset she was over it made your heart tighten in your chest. Other people noticed what had happened and some had expected a fight. Luckily, that was avoided. 
As much as it sucked, you refused to let that ruin your night. You did your best at cleaning yourself up, wiping the shirt repeatedly with paper towels. In the end, you had a huge stain on your shirt and your skin felt sticky but at least the drink wasn’t dripping everywhere as you walked out of the bathroom, back to Steven.
Steven noticed the stain on your shirt and his eyes widened, “what happened?” 
“Bumped into someone,” You explained briefly, looking down at the obvious stain and hating that it was right over your chest. Now that you were no longer in the safety of the bathroom, you felt self-conscious about the placement. That definitely made people stare.
Steven realized that too. He got up in a heartbeat and took off his jacket, wrapping it over your shoulders to offer a little bit of coverage. The jacket smelled like him and it was warm.
“Let’s go, shall we? I live just a couple of blocks away. If you’re not in a rush I can wash that for you. It’ll only take a moment,” Steven offered as he walked you out of the bar. It was about time to leave anyway. “Or I could call a taxi. If you’d prefer that.”
Was he real? Was he genuinely such a sweet man? Steven didn’t have to be so nice yet there he was, blowing your mind by just being himself.
“You don’t need to do that. Let’s go. I want to see your goldfish,” You trusted Steven enough to go to his place. That was much better than standing in a bar with a soaked shirt. 
Steven was surprised you remembered the goldfish. “Oh you’ll love them. Let’s go then.”
“Thank you,” You weren’t sure if it was the stress of the past few days - or months really - or the alcohol, but his kindness moved you. It nearly brought you to tears which luckily he didn’t seem to notice now that you were outside, walking down the dark street. Night had fallen quicker than you had realized. 
Steven wrapped his arm around you gently and caressed the side of your arm, “don’t worry about it. That’s the least I can do, love.”
                                          Had someone told you that you’d find yourself in Steven’s flat that night, you wouldn’t have believed them. The walk had been short and before you knew it, your shirt was in the washer as you wore one of his t-shirts in the meantime. The place was so him, full of books and interesting trinkets. You even met the two goldfish. 
“Do you play the guitar?” You asked Steven when you saw the acoustic guitar that was leaning against the bookshelf behind the TV. 
“Oh that...that’s... it’s a funny story actually,” Steven rambled as he was nervous now because he was preparing to do something big, “No, I don’t.”
“Oh,” You weren’t sure why he had the guitar. Perhaps he wanted to learn how to play it? 
“Y/N, there’s something I want to tell you,” Steven finally gathered his courage. It helped that Marc was onboard with him. They were doing this together. 
He was sitting on an emerald green armchair as you were sat comfortably on his comfortable love seat. There was a blue blanket over your legs for comfort. Steven’s flat was full of things that felt cosy and warm. You absolutely adored it.
However, you couldn’t focus on the decor as Steven faced you with a serious expression. It was so unlike him, at least the him you had gotten to know so far. Had you done something wrong? Was he about to tell you he never wanted to see you again?
Did he know about COTA?
“You can tell me anything,” You hoped he couldn’t tell how jittery you were. This was ridiculous! You told yourself you had no reason to be nervous. This was something personal to Steven and you wanted to be supportive. Had he been closer, you would’ve grabbed his hand to reassure him that you were listening. 
You can do this, buddy, Marc encouraged Steven to get started. Truth be told, Marc felt nervous too. Despite how sweet you had been so far, there was no way of truly knowing how you’d take this. People had a tendency to seem one way but when the moment was critical, they revealed their true selves. Often that was unpredictable. The last thing Marc wanted was for you to be afraid and break Steven’s heart. 
We can do this.
“I haven’t really told anyone before...not like this,” Steven chuckled anxiously, scratching the back of his head. 
“Take your time,” You weren’t in a rush. For him, you would sit there all night and wait until he found the right words.
Steven needed to hear that. It reminded him of how understanding you seemed to be. Right now, he needed someone like you. After this, everything would change; you’d either leave and never contact him again or you’d get to know Marc too. Whatever the future held if you decided to stay, Steven couldn’t even imagine. He hoped it was good.
One deep breath. Inhaled. Exhaled. Steven made up his mind. 
He trusted you.
“I have DID,” Steven blurted the words out, not controlling the volume or speed he spoke at because of how his nerves. They just spilled from his lips and now they were out in the open. 
“I’m me, obviously, but there’s another guy. His name is Marc,” Steven continued carefully, avoiding your gaze as spoke. He could feel you looking at him but he couldn’t bring himself to look back. Why did this have to be so difficult?
“We uh, well we share a body. Sometimes he fronts, sometimes it’s me. We’ve gotten better at this, you know sharing a body and having our own lives,” He explained to you before silence could settle in the flat. Rambling was better than terrifying silence, or so he thought. 
Steven played with his own fingers nervously, resisting the urge to pick at the dry cuticles around his fingernails. Being so vulnerable was a huge step for him and your reaction would mean so much to him, whatever it may be. 
“Yeah, that’s it. The cat’s out the bag,” Steven decided to let you speak now before he would go on any further. Despite how hard it was, he raised his gaze to meet yours. 
You were smiling.
It was a sweet smile, not a pitiful one. You didn’t seem to view him as any lesser of a man than what he was before revealing this to you. 
“Thank you for telling me,” You were honoured he trusted you with that knowledge in the first place. Of course, it was surprising to hear as Steven hadn’t shown any symptoms or signs of DID. Not that you had noticed anyway. Knowing he had an alter, or that he was an alter, didn’t bother you at all. That was something you had to get used to, just like everything else when meeting new people. It wasn’t a bad thing.
“You’re not scared, are you?” His voice revealed what he feared, that you’d judge him and leave. It pained you to know he was afraid of that. Had someone else in his past been afraid? Reacted poorly? Just the thought of someone upsetting him was heartbreaking. 
“No, not at all, Steven,” You quickly reassured him, wishing you could hug him. Your heart was beating a little bit faster as you sat there, not because you were frightened. You were just so overwhelmed by emotions, mostly positive ones. Being let in on this part of him meant so much to you. There was no way you’d dare to make him feel bad about it. 
“Good,” Steven didn’t want to cry but keeping the happy tears at bay seemed impossible. His eyes were teary and the smile on his face made it easier to see. He hadn’t felt relief like that in a long time.  
“That’s great. Ohh, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that!” Steven added to that, “Would you like to meet Marc?”
This was not what you had expected to happen but you didn’t mind it at all. Steven was lovely, charming and kind. Knowing that he had DID didn’t change anything.
In fact, you were excited to meet Marc despite not quite knowing how this worked yet. You’d learn.
“I’d love to.”
Witnessing what happened next was astonishing. It was as if Steven changed completely by letting out a breath he had been holding. The way he was sitting changed and you noticed the tiny details on his face shifting too because of the different tension in the tiny muscles. Next time you met those brown eyes, they just seemed different. You couldn’t name the change but you saw it.
That must’ve been Marc. 
“I’m the one that plays the guitar, by the way,” Marc concealed his own nerves by saying something that would hopefully lighten up the mood. He hadn’t forgotten about the shift in your demeanour and unbeknownst to Steven, Marc wanted to use this opportunity to get to know you. If someone was hurting you, he would find out about it.
If there was something else to it, Marc wouldn’t let you hurt Steven. 
The accent caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected such a big difference for some reason. How much did he know about you? Marc had clearly heard you asking about the guitar earlier.
“You’ll have to show me one day,” You stated, hoping they were okay with you sticking around for a while. This was a friendship you hoped could last for longer than just a couple of weeks. Hopefully, you and Marc could get along too. 
“Sure,” Marc shrugged, not minding the sound of that at all, “it’s good to meet you. I’m Marc Spector,” He introduced himself properly and stuck out his hand to shake yours. 
You grabbed his hand and shook it back, feeling a difference in the grip compared to how Steven had held it. Marc’s handshake was much firmer, the nervous demeanour compared with something rather charming and confident. Whether it was a facade or not, you did not know. Marc seemed like he could be smooth with his words and actions if he wanted to.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Marc,” You shook his hand one more time before letting go. Truly, it was a wonderful moment. This amount of trust must’ve meant that you could build a relationship that could last. Well, as long as you could free yourself from the chains of COTA. Of course, you could be wrong but you had a feeling they would impact your life in ways you couldn’t even imagine yet.
Steven and Marc had trusted you with such a vulnerable side of them. Suddenly, you felt even worse for your involvement with the dangerous criminal organization. How long could you go on like this? Keeping secrets from them and possibly putting them in danger? 
                                            Somewhere on the other side of London, a drop off was taking place. An ancient artefact was wrapped in thick, red fabrics as it was handed from one person to another. If objects could talk, that one had an interesting story to tell just about the last 24 hours alone. 
Armed people stood behind a man that stood out from the rest, dressed in a white robe that reached his ankles. The armed men guarded his every step.
Finally, the valuable possession ended up in the robed man’s hands, the thick fabric being unwrapped carefully, revealing the golden object. Even in the darkness of the night, light provided by the moon only, it looked beyond beautiful and fascinating, ancient symbols providing it with a powerful aura. The man knew how powerful it was, how important its powers were about the be. 
They could change the whole world.
“Finally,” The man smiled as he cradled the grail like an infant, “it’s all mine.”
[NEXT CHAPTER - coming soon!]  
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A/N: The story is finally really beginning! I hope you guys like it! I’m so excited to write this. It’s been so long since I last sat down and wrote this much without losing interest. I would absolutely love to hear your feedback <3
follow my side blog @loki-hargreeves-masterlist​ for notifications when I post updates and other fics, if you want to.
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@davosmymaster @dweeb-central @graciexmarvel @notebook-of-elle @sammi-doll483 @astrolockley @dropdeadbec @carlanee2000 @ennovi-9 @bibliophile417 @uhhidksstuff @allthingsvicf @queenariesofnarnia @full-time-make-believer @multifandom-slxt @loonymagizoologist @walkingidler
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rebornlunar · a day ago
steven: “the other day, marc told me i looked like ‘colonel sanders’”
you: “and?”
steven: “who’s that?”
you show him the search results
steven looks at your laptop screen in total shock
steven: “is there any way to safely burn clothes?”
162 notes · View notes
a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 days ago
Gods and Monsters
Marc Spector x Goddess!Reader, Steven Grant x Goddess!Reader, eventual Jake Lockley x Goddess!Reader
Part 2
Greek Mythology Crossover
Part 1
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A/N: Hello lovelies! Part 2 is finally here! I apologize for taking a long time to finally update, I’ve been going through a lot lately 😅. But I hope you enjoy! Reblogs and feedback is much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts! And let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!
Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You were sent on a mission to investigate and put a stop to a string of supernatural activities that had been picked up. Using your gifted senses, your trail eventually leads you to the steps of a museum, where you stumble upon the unexpected.
Warnings: language, smoking, violence, sexual themes, plot with smut?
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You had just ended the call with your close friend Diana, tapping your phone lightly against your chin as you pondered on a plan. A part of you thought it would be a bad idea, a risky one at that, of what you had in mind. After all, meddling in mortal affairs tended to lead down a winding path that led to no end, not because it was in any way perilous, but because of what you had seen in your years spent walking upon the mortal earth.
Time had taught you that the human race and their rulers had proven themselves to be of a barbaric nature, a species prone to violence and deceit displayed through acts of war and power. A species no different than a virus that only multiplied and multiplied as it plagued upon the earth, consuming and destroying everything that laid upon its path until there was nothing left, not even the dirt and ash scattered amongst the ground. You had seen many wars in your lifetime, each one as bloody as the next, and each the same as before; the powerless against the powerful. And each time, there came only one outcome; the blood of the innocents spilt at the hands of the guilty.
And yet, they were capable of so much more. Like the extent of their compassion in which they would sacrifice themselves for those who needed help, their excellence and their creativity for the arts, their passion in the very things that drove them to their existence. Their many endeavors of exploration and their capacity to push themselves to be the best they can be. Their ability to love and provide joy to those who had none. And during times of hardship and tragedies, their ability to come together and carry so much hope no matter how dark the future may seem. You had once tried to advocate for the humans many many centuries ago amongst the council of the gods, back when you were of a much younger age, back when you were naïve and did not see what humanity would spiral into.
‘The humans cannot change. They are not worth fighting for.’ They’d say.
‘Look at what they do to each other. Look of what they have done to the very earth that they inhabit. There’s no use interfering in their affairs. They’d only revert back to the way they were.’ They’d say next.
But your pleas fell on deaf ears, for they did not listen and only warned you of the consequences your actions would lead to and how your efforts would come bearing no fruit. Many of the gods still despised Prometheus for bestowing fire upon the humans those many millenniums ago, many of whom still believed that man should have been left in the dark. And as time went on, and greed and corruption spread rampant amongst the people like a smokeless wildfire, you found yourself at times losing hope. You began to think the human race to be incompetent and incapable of learning from their mistakes, like an endless wheel of pain and suffering without any chance of recuperation.
How many years has it been? And still one does not see the other as their equal. Perhaps you believed all of it to be true, all those things that you were taught and told back on Olympus since you were a child. Maybe the gods were right and maybe you finally started to see the truth in their statements. And so you began to reflect as years went by, using your own experiences and what you have witnessed as reasons to separate from the human race as farthest as possible. And slowly, with time, the words of others began to transform into an ideology. And maybe, just maybe, the kind-hearted goddess you were once known as was no more, lost to the lack of faith that once brightened her.
You pondered for a moment longer on your decision, biting your lip as you watched Steven from afar. The certain plan that played out in your mind had a chance of not ending the way you had intended it to. But something had to be done, and you were the only one capable of accomplishing the task. You did not know why or how, but something was not quite right with Steven, you had sensed it since he first stumbled into you. Whether he had a direct hand in this otherworldly energy or not was not yet within your wisdom or familiarity. But it was something that you were going to solve no matter what. And if the time came that a choice had to be made between him and the endangerment of others, you knew what had to be done.
“Fuck it.” You muttered to yourself. With your posture straight and your head held high, the mortals around you moved out of your way due to your countenance, your face colder than your very demeanor as you headed over to where the man stood with his back facing you while he organized the different products.
You approached the gift shop with the clacks of your block heels, leaning against the counter as you rested your forearms on the glossy surface. Your pointed fingernails drummed against the top of the white counter in soft clicks as you ran your eyes over the dark curls on his head and down his back. Gods how a part of you wanted to run your fingers through those very same curls, to drag your nails down the back of his scalp before pulling at the hairs of his nape just to see what noise you would be able to extract from those very lips of his as if you were concocting one of your potions. He reminded you so much of your old lovers; of the painters, sculptors, musicians, and warriors of Ancient Greece and Rome that once captured your heart. You watched the man move around for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to the days of old while your eyes followed him around before clearing your throat teasingly. “Excuse me.”
Steven had turned around at the sound of your voice, thinking you to be a customer until he saw that it was you instead, nearly dropping the postcards from his hands in the process as he stuttered out your name. “Y-y/n.”
“Her again? What does she want?” Marc eyed you with distrust. “Steven don’t talk to her.”
“Hey there…Steven.”
“Oh ello. I-uh-I didn see you there.” Steven set the stack of postcards down in fear that he would drop them from the sweat that started to form on his palms as he stepped up to the counter, ignoring the warnings of Marc that rung out in his head. “Was just uh…….setting up these postcards here. You looking to buy something? We’ve got um….little stuffed Tawerets……and uh, these gummies here, which is odd because they didn’ have gummies back in ancient Egypt now did they.”
“No, they didn’t actually.” You chuckled softly, respecting the passion Steven had behind the history of the ancient Egyptians. “Their foods were mostly comprised of breads, dates, figs, lentils, and vegetables and that sort of stuff. They did love their garlic though.”
“Right, yeh exactly. If anythin’, we should be offering dried figs or dates even. Not these….things.” Steven waved the packet of gummies around as he nodded his head in agreement, his pupils ever so slightly expanding in size as he stared at you. He was once again smitten by the fact that you knew these small details, details that he would spend hours engrossing himself in whenever he stuck his nose within the aged pages of an old book. For the first time, he felt as if he was finally able to hold a conversation with someone that would not judge him, someone that he was able to ramble on to about the many magnificent attributes that made the culture of Ancient Egypt so special and fascinating. “So uh, anything here catch your eye? Even with the lack of dried figs.”
“Actually, I’m not really looking to buy any uh…..merchandise.”
“Oh? You’re not?”
“Nah.” You glanced down at your nails for a brief second before looking up at him again. “Unless you're for sale."
"Nothing." You corrected yourself. Gods you were starting to sound like someone you once knew. "Listen. You got any plans for tonight?”
“Um….uh…..plans?” Steven blinked, not sure if his ears heard you correctly. Were you asking him on a date? Can’t be. A woman of your stature asking a man like him.
“Yeah. You know, are you busy or doing anything later?“
“Say no Steven.”
“Are you always this articulate?” You smirked, quirking a brow in amusement from the way you had left him fumbling for words.
“Umm….no? I don’ think so, no.”
“Soooo, you got any plans tonight or you just trying to find a nice way to brush me off.”
“Uh no…….nothing like that, just work…stuff really.” Steven glanced over to see that his manager was approaching with her face buried in the clipboard that was held in her hand. Oh god.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me tonight."
“M-me?” Steven gulped, pointing at himself as a blush dusted across his cheeks.
"Yeah. There’s this cool place called Fitz’s bar and they’re having a noir murder mystery night, there’ll be jazz and everyone will be dressed in the era. If that’s not your thing then we can go to this Art Deco style restaurant called Bob Bob Ricard and the food is to die for.”
“S-sorry, you want me…to go with you…to dinner?” Steven questioned, making sure that his ears had not deceived him. You…wanted to invite him….to dinner? And not just any dinner, the places you mentioned were exclusive. Steven was almost questioning his sanity at this point. First Marc, now you. Were you a part of his imagination as well? You had to be. Women barely asked him out to anything, much less something like dinner. God, a tux. He didn’t even own a tux or a decent enough suit. What was he going to wear, a jumper?
“Yes you.” You gave a playful roll of your eyes with a small laugh before nodding over to the security guard who had been curiously watching the interaction between the two of you, the one whom you had heard refer to Steven as Scotty. “It’s obviously not Walmart version Larry Daley over there.”
“Walmart vers-you mean JB?” Steven furrowed his brows at your statement before realizing you were making a reference to the film Night at the Museum.
“That’s what I said.”
So he wasn’t imagining it, Steven thought to himself. You really did mean him. “Sorry.” Steven shook his head. “I just…hang on, aren’t those places-you know…expensive, reservations only sort of thing?”
“Steven, you precious little soul,” you sighed with a smile, shifting your weight to rest your hand on your waist, “I’m pretty sure I can afford it.”
“What did she just call you?”
“Right. Sorry, I’ve just….never really been invited to dinner or anythin’ like that. I don’ even really own any suits or anythin’ of the sort.”
“That’s not an issue.” You straightened up, pulling out your phone and running your eyes over Steven’s frame while he blushed under your gaze. “I’ll have one of my men get one for ya.”
“Did she just say ‘one of her men’? What is she, mafia?” Marc narrowed his eyes at you. It was almost as if the longer you stuck around, the more suspicious you became.
“I..uh…..” Steven struggled. The poor soul did not have the capability to say a single word, nor did he even have a chance to take in anything that you had said to him. “Hang on, did you just say you’re gettin’ me a tux.”
“Well yeah.” You quirked a brow. “Can’t have you lookin like that to Fitz's.”
“You hear that Steven?” Marc tried to make a point in order to get through Steven’s thick skull. “Curator or not, she just insulted you. I told you she’s bad news.”
“Sorry, did you just say something?”
“Ain’t no way…”
“No.” Steven shook his head vigorously, his curls falling out of place from the action while his face paled in complexion ever so slightly.
“Huh.” You pressed your tongue against the side of your molars, squinting your eyes at the man before raising your brows in unison with a drop of your shoulders. “Must’ve been the wind, oh well.”
“Wait……don’ you need my size, or anythin’ like that?”
“Nah.” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head in response. “I already have it figured out. Plus, I have the perfect tailor, one of the best.”
“You do?” Steven tilted his head at you. How ever did you manage to get his measurements just by looking at him.
“How does she…..” Even Marc had stood in confusion as he watched you from the reflection of a display case nearby. Here he was, attempting to warn Steven, to tell him to not trust you nor even speak a single word to you. But your actions had managed to catch even the stern mercenary off guard.
“Mhm.” You nodded your head as you typed away on your phone, sending in an order for your tailor before pulling out your business card from your pocket, holding the thing between your index and middle finger as you handed it over across the counter. “Here is my card if you need to contact me. It has my office number at the Louvre as well as my colleague’s.”
Steven took the card from you, his thumb brushing against the textured surface as he glanced down at the gold embossed letters that sat elegantly against the thick alabaster toned card stock.
Musée du Louvre
Curators of Greek Antiquities
Diana Prince and Y/f/n “Kate” Y/l/n
“Steven don’t. She’s most likely a fraud.”
“You got a pen I can use real quick?”
“Umm…….just this one.” Steven pulled out a simple ballpoint pen from the front pocket of his jacket as he handed it to you, his hand nearly shaking from the simple process.
“Thanks.” You took the pen from him with a quick smile, your fingertip brushing against the tip of his. You knew exactly what you were doing.
Steven nearly shuddered at the contact. The touch was like a jolt of ice as he shivered underneath his layers as if a strong breeze had just drifted past him. He wasn’t sure if it was you or the air conditioning of the place that made him want to throw on an extra layer.
“If you are unable to reach me through my office,“ you leaned across the counter to take Steven’s hand, “you can contact me through my personal cell.”
Steven widened his eyes at your move, watching you gently turn his palm facing up. Your hands were surprisingly softer and warmer than he had expected, like they were made of the softest silk known to the world. It was almost as if he was being cradled by a cloud in the middle of spring. And yet, despite the warmth that radiated off you, your touch was like fresh snowfall in the midst of autumn, where frost formed like crystallized mosaics across the delicate petals of a rose.
His gaze fell down to your mouth as you pressed the pen between your lips, pulling the cap off with your teeth and holding it there as you wrote your number on the skin of his palm. He felt as if he were in a dream; his hand held in yours, your warm fingers slightly caressing the skin of his knuckles as you held his hand up to write down your digits. His eyes trailed once more along the features of your face, admiring the curl of your long lashes that fluttered down to graze the top of your cheekbones before lingering on the cap of his pen held between your plump pink lips.
“There you go.” You mumbled out before popping the cap back on his pen and handing it back to him with a soft smile. “Now you have my number. If you have any questions or whatsoever, just give me a call.”
“See you tonight Steven.” Your lips curled into a smirk as you gave the man a wink, brushing the side of your hooked forefinger gently under his chin before walking away. You could not help but to cross your fingers, hoping that everything would fall according to plan as your mind once again drifted to your dagger that sat hidden underneath your coat, held within the strap on your back. The cold metal antagonized you through the silk of your blouse, its blade sharp and heavy with the burden that carried with it.
Steven had stared after you as you went. Your little gesture had made his face redder than the very packets of the gummies he thought to be useless to the theme of the museum. Did that really just happen just now? And that chin thing. What was it and why did it make him feel that way?
“Did she just….” Marc muttered as he watched you leave out the front doors. His dark eyes were widened in perplexity as his brows furrowed together at the center. Did you really just offer to take Steven out on a date? Steven fucking Grant? The same Steven Grant that the average person would walk straight through if given the opportunity. In fact, now that he thought about it, you had been so confident and forward during the little exchange that you had not even given the poor man a chance to fully process just what it was you were asking of him. You just showed up, gave your number and said you were picking him up later tonight, leaving barely any room for questions.
But the one thing that had Marc completely dumbfounded beyond all his years and all that he has seen as a mercenary and as Khonshu’s avatar, was that you were going to get Steven a tux. What normal person was so willing to get someone that they have just met, a brand new suit. On top of that, the average person usually was not able to afford a tailor, and you had mentioned yours was one of the best. Just how wealthy were you? First the cashmere Burberry coat and the Christian Louboutin ankle boots. Now your own tailor and an invitation to an exclusive bar? Wait a minute. Did he…no, it can’t be. Is this what he thought it was? Does this mean………………did that make them your sugar baby?
“Stevie you rascal.” Donna sidled up to the counter, a hand on her hip as she chewed loudly on her gum, glancing at the ink on his palm. “What was that all about?”
“I don’ know.” Steven stared down at the blue ink on his palm that wrote out your number. He was still in shock as he read over the individual digits and the print across the card held in his hand. It all had happened so fast. “………I think she just asked me out on a date.”
“Think yer bein’ funny do ya? A girl like her with the likes of you?” Donna looked him over with distaste.
“Well that’s rather insulting innit.”
“It’s the truth Stevie.”
“Well it didn’ seem to bother her. She gave me her business card and-“
“Her card?” Donna scrunched her nose. “Whatever for?”
“She said she was a curator at the Louvre.”
“A curator at the Louvre?” Donna scoffed. “She’s definitely pullin’ your leg, that one.”
“Well it didn’ seem like she was pullin’ anythin’.” Steven sassed slightly. “Said she wanted me to accompany her to dinner at The Fitz’s or Bob Bob Ricard tonight.”
“Fitz’s? Bob Bob Ricard? Tonight?” Donna let out a laugh, not believing a single thing that flew out of Steven’s mouth. “What’re ye, a bloody idiot? Only thing you’re on tonight is inventory.”
Steven’s face dropped at the mention as Donna walked away, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. The poor man had been so caught up with being in your mere presence that he had completely forgotten that he was working late tonight. How in hell did you manage to have such a hold over him where neither time nor reality seemed to exist. Should he let you know? Maybe he can ask to leave a little early. Or maybe if he worked fast enough, he would be able to get off in time. And as Steven stared down at your number that you had written on his palm, the dark blue ink almost taunting him, he could not help but think about what Donna had just said, her words sinking into him like the stones cast out across a lake. Perhaps she was right. Maybe you were ridiculing him.
You could not help but squint against the bright sunlight with a small hiss once you had exited the museum, its bright rays seeming to pierce right through you. Pulling your shades down over your eyes, you had half a mind to go out in the sun more after being cooped up in the dark for so many of your days as you reached into your pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. You had stood at the top of the small set of steps next to one of the pillars, shrouded underneath the shade with a cigarette between your lips as you pulled up your lighter to the end, cupping your hand around the flame until someone came to stand beside you nearly causing you to drop the thing.
“I thought you were going to handle it.”
“Shit!” You hissed, nearly biting through the cigarette held between your teeth as you turned to see the familiar god of the underworld through the tint of your purple sunglasses. “Fuckin hells. I thought you went home.”
“And I thought you were going to fix the situation.”
“I thought I already told you. I am.” You dropped your arms in exasperation before lighting up your cigarette in another try.
“Oh? How so?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all worked out. I’m going to keep an eye on him tonight.” You put away your lighter with a click of the metal once you lit the end.
“By keeping an eye on him, you mean asking him out on a date."
"What, you eavesdropping now?" You blinked, turning to face the tall and grim god. "Did ya hear anything else worthwhile while you were SNOOPING around?"
"No not really, except for that you're taking the mortal out to, what was it, dinner?"
"Hekate, my sweet, my little raven, my little.......accomplice," Hades lowered himself to put his arm casually around your shoulder while you only rolled your eyes, "when I said to do what it takes, I didn't mean SLEEP WITH HIM!"
“Yikes. Since when did asking someone out to dinner mean doing the devil’s tango.”
“The devil’s tango?”
“You know, COPULATING.” You shrugged his arm off your shoulder.
“You know what I meant Hekate. He’s a mort-“
“And if I did? Not like I haven’t done it before.” You raised a brow as you held your cigarette between your two fingers, blowing smoke from your lips and surrounding your area with the scent of lavender as you pulled it out.
“You wouldn’t.” Hades widened his eyes.
“Relaaaax big guy, don't get your chiton in a twist. I’m not going to do anything you wouldn’t do, until the time comes that I decide to do what you wouldn’t do.”
“You wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t-“ Hades tilted his head with a scrunch of his nose, scratching the stubble on his jaw as he repeated what you just said to him with a mutter. “Is that some kind of code?”
“No. It’s English.”
“Very funny.”
“Geez, what crawled up your ass and died, huh? You’ve been acting cranky all day.”
“Nothing crawled up my ass and died, thank you.” Hades clenched his jaw.
“Then what?”
“Uh huh, sure. Listen, HADES,” you brushed the dust off his expensive suit, “why don’t you take a little vacation huh. Kick your feet up on the beach, go get a martini or something and go home to your wife before she gets worried. And maybe even get a tan while you’re at it, you’ve been looking a little pale these days. And most importantly,” you tightened your fingers around the collar of his suit with a sweet smile before yanking him down to your eye level, “LEAVE ME ALONE.”
“Yeah that’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of it before.” Hades rolled his eyes in a monotone voice. “Oh wait that’s right, I have a full-time gig in the land below while the other gods lounge about in the sky.”
“Just take a break will ya.” You let him go before taking another drag of your cigarette. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“………..So what now?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna linger around a bit, see what else I find.”
“You really feel he has something to do with this don’t you.” Hades watched you put the cigarette out.
“Uh yeah. Or else I wouldn’t go through all this trouble.”
“Is there anything else you noticed?”
“Well, he comes on with his big, innocent-gift shop-boy routine, but I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute.” You scoffed.
“What makes you say that?”
“Voices?” Hades furrowed his brows with a grimace, glancing down at the cement before staring at you in a combination of concern and unease. “You’re not hearing-“
“Tsk. No not me. I meant Steven.”
“Steven who?”
“Steven from the gift shop. The one mortal who’s been the topic of our conversation. Keep up will ya.”
“So what…….like ‘Son of Sam’ voices or that one bald guy?”
“You mean Charles Xavier? That’s called telepathy. And no, wonderboy here is different.”
“Wonder boy?” Hades scrunched his nose.
“As in Steven, Hades. STEE-VUN. For the love of Dionysus’s wine. Like I said, this one is different.”
“Different HOW, exactly?” Hades placed both his hands on your shoulders and squeezed the muscles there slightly. “Different as in I need to bring in my minions? Or different as in you’re gonna pull apart that little brain of his.”
“Different as in I’ll have it figured out by tonight.” You snarked as you peeled his hands off your shoulders. “Just don’t loose your curls over it yeah? Besides, I’ve got him wrapped completely around my little finger.”
“What, did you hex him or something?”
“Nope, just the good ole fashioned charm and my very irresistible personality, of course. Something that you yourself need to work on.”
“Irresistible my rear-“ Hades rolled his eyes before stopping abruptly. His head slowly turned to look at you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your form while a sly smile slowly crept its way onto his lips as a thought popped into his head. “Ohhhh.”
“What?” You made a face at the way his eyes ran over you. Sure, the two of you were close friends no matter how many times you both managed to get on each other’s nerves, but the way he looked you over made you jump back and forth from wanting to either gag in repulsion or turn him into a toad. “The hells are you looking at me like that for? You tryna catch a whammy or wha-“
“That’s perfect!”
“What?!” You growled between your gritted teeth.
“YOU, my little fiery goddess, can use your BEAUTY to lure him in!”
“Are you always such an idiot, or do you just show off when I’m around?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time huh? Selling car insurance?”
“Look, all I’m trying to say is keep up the good work.”
“I can’t believe I put up with you.” You muttered under your breath with a roll of your eyes. How ever did you manage to run the underworld with him after all those centuries.
“You got a dress picked out?”
“Noooo.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically. “I’m going to wear my jammies.”
“You’re mocking me aren’t you.”
“Then don’t ask stupid ass questions.”
“You’re a real pain you know that.”
“And I’m good at it. Listen, the dress part is easy: a quick flick of the wrist and I’m done. The hard part is figuring out what the hell is wrong with Wonder Boy back there.” You cleared up before letting out a short whistle to summon your Doberman. You waited for a couple seconds, your face stern and your arms crossed over your chest until a smile formed on your lips once you saw the familiar black and brown fur approach in the distance, weaving his way through the crowd with his tail wagging in the air as he went up the stairs to stand at your feet. “There you are! Good boy!” You cooed with small kissing noises, squatting down to cradle the sides of your dog’s face and giving him a scratch behind his ears.
“Wait, you bring your dog with you?”
“Well yes. I’m always taking Aragorn and Hecuba for a walk.” You turned to look up at Hades from your spot near the floor. “Though I don’t think the humans would be accustomed to seeing a three-headed Rottweiler roaming the streets.”
“But Cerberus doesn’t bite.” Hades frowned, the ends of his lips pulled downwards. He wished he could take Cerberus for a walk like you did with your own two dogs. But you were right, the world has changed. He could not just bring Cerberus out from the underworld like he used to.
“Try telling the humans that.” You straightened up. “Listen, I’m going to grab something to eat. You need anything?”
“No…….but thanks.”
“Get some rest ok.” You told Hades before heading down the stairs with your dog Aragorn, stopping at the middle to turn back to the god. “Just make sure the humans don’t see you alright. I’m not tryna cast a bunch of memory spells today. I mean it!” You called out out before watching Hades walk away with a wave in your direction to make sure he did not pull any tricks, his tall and dark figure disappearing into the bustling crowd. As you headed back towards your car, working your way through the bustling crowd of people much too preoccupied with the screen of their phones to pay any real attention to the world around them, you pulled out your own phone from your pocket to see if Steven had sent you a message, only to be met with the blankness of your lock screen. Nothing. Not a single call nor a single text.
“Don’t fail me know Steven.” You muttered to yourself with a sigh, going to put it away until you felt it vibrate in your hands. Lifting the device back up with a furrow of your brows, hoping it was who you thought it would be, you saw a new number appear at the center of your screen, Steven’s.
It was not long till day had turned to night, when the bright golden rays of the warm sun transformed into shades of magentas, corals, and lilacs that painted across the sky like brushstrokes of acrylic across a blank canvas before being claimed by the dark indigos of the night. During that time in which you had distracted yourself with activities like getting a cup of coffee and taking Aragorn for a walk around the area and finishing a few chapters of the book you were currently reading. But now, the area that was once swarming with tourists and locals alike that came to visit the museum, had now died down to the remaining employees and the few people that were just passing through outside the museum gates to get to whatever their location may be.
A few hours had passed after the sun had already set past the horizon, when the skies became dark and Artemis’s silver chariot darted across the heavens to pull with it the celestial body of the moon that came to take its place amongst the stars, a time where your magic and your powers were at their strongest. You had always cherished the moon, using its luminescence to light your path during those many nights where you spent wandering about the woods and forest barefoot, savoring in the feeling of your toes sinking into the soft moss and the night breeze brushing against your cheek.
It was a full moon tonight, the silvery orb perched high above you, nestled between the shimmering of the stars that tried so desperately to surpass it. There was something different about it tonight, a slight change in its color that casted the earth below in somewhat of an ominous glow. And though you were unbothered by energy such as this, there was this certain eeriness that clung to the atmosphere that a mere mortal would find unsettling. And with a full moon out, its brilliance displayed for all to see, who knew what lycanthropes lurked about at a night like this.
Perhaps that could have been the cause of the supernatural activity that was picked up and why you were sent to investigate it. Maybe a few of them had escaped. Being the goddess of the creatures of the night, most of the demons like the Empusae fell under your command, but the Lycanthrope; known for their bloodthirst, were another story. And if that were the case, you had better keep a careful watch. The last thing you needed was a lycanthrope running wild and risking exposure to your kind.
The music of soft rock had been playing through the speakers of your radio as you laid back on the cherry red leather seat of your classic black convertible, a hand folded across your stomach as you stared up at the night sky. Aragorn on the other hand had fell asleep, his head nestled upon your lap as you stroked the furs of his head, your eyes searching for whatever few constellations you were able to make out due to the pollution that concealed the wonders of the worlds that lied beyond.
You began to miss the view from back home on Olympus, the way the stars blanketed the night sky as if someone had scattered mountains of diamonds into the heavens in order to form the galaxies that you were able to see with the naked eye. Gods were they a sight to behold and oh how you wished to share it with someone.
Some time had passed as you waited for Steven to clock off after he told you that he would be getting off late, a bit to your inconvenience though you did not mind. After all, time worked differently for you and the gods. A year for the humans was like the blink of an eye for you. And as you lingered, waiting patiently, you could not help the lids of your eyes that became heavy with your relaxed state, threatening you to a state of slumber until the buzzing of your phone jerked you awake. As you pulled it out, the brightness of your screen nearly blinding you, you saw that Steven had sent you a message. He had just gotten off.
“Shit.” You cursed under your breath from the notification as you shifted in your seat in an attempt to get up and unfortunately woke up Aragorn in the process. You muttered out a few apologies to your dog as you straightened up and reached over to open your glove compartment, checking to see that your two essential items were still in there, the two things that you would soon have to choose from in order to decide how this night would end. The silver glint of your dagger and the golden glow of the lasso that Diana had sent you after you had called her for a favor. “Gods help me.”
Closing your glove compartment, you clumsily got out of your seat with a grunt as your dog straightened up, watching you with curiosity as you flicked your wrist. A glowing shimmer of a mist-like cloud the shades of amethyst and violet formed around you as your hair styled itself, forming into curls, and your current attire materialized into something more formal; a pair of Art Deco style diamond drop earrings, black lace peep-toe Christian Louboutin heels, and a Prada dress, the one that you had chosen to wear for your “date” with Steven.
It was a simple dress, elegant, with just the perfect amount of skin where it would not be considered immodest, but it also matched the theme of Fitz’s noir murder mystery night. But most importantly, it was enough to get Steven entranced with your presence. The dress itself was of a deep wine red, the fabric made of the finest velvet that hugged your waist perfectly without having to be too constricting, allowing movement on your part. And the design was that of the evening dresses of the 1930’s, from its asymmetrical/one-shoulder long sleeve that had a slit down its middle starting from your shoulder and stopping above your elbow, to the slit of the ankle-length skirt that ran up your leg and ended at the middle of your thigh. The dress was beautiful nonetheless, and as you ran your maroon nails over the softness of the velvet, you couldn’t help but feel like those old Hollywood actresses you so adored.
“How do I look?” You turned around with your arms out spread to show your dog, who only looked up at you with his big brown eyes and a tilt of his head before giving you an excited bark in reply.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You muttered out, looking at yourself through the side view mirror of your car and fluffing your hair before letting out another hiss. You had been so focused with what you were going to wear, that you had completely forgotten about your makeup. After rummaging through your small makeup bag and doing a quick winged liner and painting your lips a carmine red, cleaning up the edges with your pinkie finger, you turned towards the museum to see that Steven had just now left the front entrance and was beginning to head your way.
“Shit.” You turned back to your dog. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to go Aragorn.” You sighed, kissing your dog on the head before moving your hands in a circular motion and teleporting him back home in a quick flash of purple. Gods you hoped that tonight would end well, you thought as you quickly straightened yourself out, putting away your things to make room for Steven before leaning back against the hood of your car, arms folded across your chest as you watched Steven’s form become bigger and bigger the closer he came.
Meanwhile, as he headed your way, Marc had been arguing with Steven ever since he clocked off, the two of them caught up in a verbal battle. The poor fellow had been fending off the mercenary’s protests in regards to how you should not be trusted and how your intentions were deceitful towards him. Steven had tried desperately to ignore the man, but it was hard to turn a deaf ear to someone that practically lived inside his head.
“Steven, I swear if you don’t turn around and go back home.” Marc fumed.
“Or what? You gonna take over and catch a cab back to your miserable little life? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date.”
“Steven. STEVEN!”
“You’ve made it.” You gave a smile once you saw him approach. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”
“Sorry bout that. I sort of forgot I was on inventory duty tonight and-“ Steven had his gaze lowered to his bag, his hand rummaging in there as if he were about to pull something out until the black shine of your car caught his eye. “Bloody hell, is that a-“
“1968 Corvette L71? Sure is.”
“This,” Steven stared wide-eyed at the black beauty parked before him, his eyes glazing over the body and the red interior as he bent over to get a closer look. “This is your car?”
“There’s no way.” Marc shook his head, refusing to believe that you drove a car like this, though he himself could not stop from appreciating it. Sure, the car was nice, and there had even been a brief thought that flashed in his mind about getting his hands on the steering wheel, but that did not change his opinion of you. How did you ever get the money for it? You had to be in league with the mafia.
“Yup. This is my baby Roxanne. Ain’t she a beauty?” You straightened your arms down at your side, sliding your leg out from under the slit of your dress before crossing your ankle over the other. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched Steven admire your corvette like a small boy who saw a fast car for the first time, watching the way his eyes took in every detail.
“She’s fantastic.” Steven straightened up with a grin, taking one last look at your car before turning towards you. There was a certain pause in his motion, a skip in the beating of his heart as he took you in as if he was seeing you for the first time. God you looked amazing. The poor man nearly fell over his own feet as he stared at you, his mouth agape and not a single thought formulated within his head as he uttered out the first thing that came to mind. “Wow.”
Even Marc, the oh so serious mercenary that had been wary of you ever since you first stepped into the museum, was silent now. As much as he refused to admit it to himself, you looked stunning, like one of those femme fatales of the noir era. Both men were trapped within their own form of awestruck as they gaped at you, their dark eyes running up the length of your exposed leg from under the slit of your dress, to your bare arm and the curls of your hair and how your diamond earrings sparkled against your neck, before lingering on that enticing shade of red lipstick. There was no way that Steven was able to pull you. No way.
They could not fathom just what it was that made them so attracted to your being despite not having the slightest knowledge as to who you were. It was as if you had bewitched the both of them since the very beginning. Perhaps it was the dress itself, the way that deep shade of red looked against your skin and how the soft velvet fabric draped perfectly on all the right areas, drawing wandering eyes where you wanted them most. There was just something about you that brought out the primal instinct deep within them, and oh how it tore them apart from the inside.
“You….” Steven gulped against the lump in his throat as his knuckles turned white from twisting the strap of his bag, “the dress looks amazing….I mean…YOU look amazing.”
“Steven for the love of-“
“Thanks. It’s Prada.”
“Well I only wear the best, sugar.” You quirked a brow in reply before stopping, a surveying look in your eyes as you fixed your gaze upon Steven. Did you hear that right? How peculiar.
“Is…..is something the matter?”
“No.” You lied with a gentle shake of your head, pressing your tongue against your back teeth in deep thought. “No, not at all.”
“Steven…..Steven listen to me-“
“I uh…” Steven suddenly remembered as he reached into his bag to pull something out. “I almost forgot. This is for you.”
“For me?” You blinked, staring at the single red rose held in his hand.
“I know it’s not much,” Steven blushed, “I meant to get y’know…more of em during my lunch but….this was all they had left.”
“You got me a rose?” You took the flower from his hand, staring down at the bright red petals. You almost did not know what to say or do with it as you swiveled the stem around between your thumb and your index finger. It had been so long since you were given a flower, the last one being from your past lover. It almost felt awkward in your hands, the beauty of its red shade and the meaning behind it a stark contrast to the motive that drove tonight.
“You…..you don’t like it?” The slightest frown appeared on Steven’s face as he tried to get a glimpse of your reaction, any reaction, but your expression remained the same.
“No, I do like it.” You gave him a smile. “I just…..didn’t expect to be given a rose.”
“Oh…are roses not your thing?”
“See what I mean Steven? Now turn around and walk the other way.”
“No!” You remarked after hearing what was just said before composing yourself, remembering to not give out too much. “Roses are nice, it’s just that…oh never mind.” You placed the rose down on your dashboard, it’s scarlet red petals complimenting the interior of your car. “Thank you Steven, I appreciate it, really.”
Damn you Steven, you thought with a clenched jaw. Gods was he making this harder than it should be. First that damn face and that damn politeness of his and now the cursed rose. Was he doing this on purpose, making you soft? Had he somehow caught on to what you were doing and this was his way of breaking through that iron wall of yours to gain sympathy on his part? He’s a mortal, you reminded yourself, he’s nothing more than a mortal, and you’re here on a mission.
“Before I forget,” you cleared your throat, regaining your composure as you went around to the back of your car to pop open the trunk, “here is your suit.”
“My suit?”
“Well I did say I was getting you a suit didn’t I?” You handed Steven a 1930s style charcoal-grey 3 piece suit with a maroon tie.
“Oh um…….” Steven did not know what to say as he stared down at the suit you had just given him, the plastic cover crinkling in his arms. The suit was well tailored from the looks of it, expensive even, telling from the quality of the tweed fabric. It was nice, too nice, and the longer he looked at it, the more he found himself not fit to wear it, thinking he would only end up looking like a complete plonker. And as he glanced over the suit jacket, his eyes running along the stitching, he caught the brand name printed on the tag. “But this is Prada.”
“Well….isn’t it like….expensive yeh?”
“I mean, its about $4,000.”
“Four thousand?!” Marc exclaimed with widened eyes. Why would you just throw four thousand dollars on a simpleton like Steve? There had to be an ulterior motive.
“Sorry….four….did you say four thousand?”
“Steven listen,” you gave a smile as you brushed off the dust on his jacket before straightening his collar, “it’s no biggie, like I said, my treat. Now, we should get a move on before the place closes.” You walked over to your car before getting in the driver’s seat.
Steven was stunned as he stood there on the sidewalk, eyes distant and cheeks red from the way you stood so close to him just now, remembering the way your knuckles brushed against the skin of his neck when you were adjusting his collar. And that perfume, god that perfume.
“You gettin in or nah?” You started up your car, the rumbling of your engine startling Steven back to reality.
“Steven don’t. Don’t you dare-“
“Leave me alone Marc.” Steven muttered under his breath before going around the back of your car to get in the passenger seat.
“So, anything you wanna hear on the radio? Lana Del Rey? Arctic Monkeys? Fleetwood Mac? Amy Whinehouse? Depeche Mode? Nine Inch Nails? Classic rock?”
“Lana Del Rey? She’s bad news Steven.”
“Oh um-not sure really.” Steven gave you a shy smile. “I suppose your choice is fine.”
“Very well.” You kept the radio on, turning up the volume as one of your favorite songs by Donovan played through your speakers.
You've got to pick up every stitch
You've got to pick up every stitch
You've got to pick up every stitch
Mm, must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch, yeah
Must be the season of the witch
Something twitched at the back of Steven’s mind, something other than the nagging of Marc’s voice. Perhaps it was his instincts or a gut feeling, or maybe even the lyrics of the song, as ridiculous as it sounded. But something seemed to be forewarning him about tonight, about you. And as he turned to face you, watching you reach out to adjust your rear view mirror, his eyes caught a tattoo that sat on the skin of your arm near your elbow, a dainty symbol of the triple moon. His thoughts drifted back, to the flash of the ring that was nestled on your finger when he first met you at the museum, the silver triple moon with the moonstone at the center, the very same ring that still sat on that exact same finger even now.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” You turned to face the man whose expression remained fixed on you, his eyes ever so slightly widened in size as if he were second guessing everything and doubting your entire existence. “Hey, Steven, everything okay?” You softened your voice before placing a careful, methodical hand on his shoulder only to feel him jump slightly underneath your touch. You moved back in your seat, surprised to see such a reaction from him, the same man who was fawning over you not even a second ago. The hells had gotten into him?
“Steven get out of there. Now!”
“You know what.” Steven let out a nervous laugh as he set down the suit you had given him before attempting to get out of his seat, a hint of panic evident in his brown eyes. “I-uh…….I think I uh left the keys to my flat back at the museum.”
“Wait what?” You scrunched your nose as the man fumbled out an apology. With your hand resting on the back of the passenger headrest, you shifted in your seat to follow his form as he avoided your gaze before quickening his pace back to the museum building. “Steven!” You called out to him, confusion written on your face as you watched him disappear through the front doors. What was all that? You turned back to the front, your eyes darting in thought while your knuckles turned white from gripping your steering wheel. Shit. With a string of curse words spilling from between your clenched teeth, you hit your palm against the steering wheel before unbuckling your seatbelt. Gods damn it. Why did this have to happen right when everything was going according to plan. It was absolutely crucial that you put an end to this, right here right now, or else you would never hear the end of it.
Popping open your glove compartment, the two distinct items once again stared back at you, the two items that you knew you would have to choose from since the beginning. And as your eyes darted between the two, one outweighing the other, your head shot up at a monstrous howl that echoed through the emptiness of the night, a howl that was unlike anything you had ever heard.
“What the-“ You breathed out, turning towards the museum from whence that unnatural sound came. And as you kept a sharp ear, your body upright and your eyes narrowed as you tried to sniff it out, there it was again, that same exact howl. Grabbing the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that would prove itself useful at a situation like this, you sprinted out of your car with your silver dagger held tightly in your hand. This was no Lycanthrope.
Tag List: @lou-la-lou @red-plaidedandcladed @kitkat34857 @anehempel @ahookedheroespureheart @jakelcckley @xzombiealicex @thehornytitties @trinkets01 @cheyennejewell @iloveyou3000morgan @lilith-blackrose @winwin70 @gender-stealer @yaimlight @sexyexoskeleton @brookiebarnes @that-0ne-simp @ennovi-9 @stepasidefilth @darklyndivinely @graciexmarvel @wintersire @that-libra-who-simps @lokissugarmommy
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novanitee · 2 days ago
Welcome Home
Yandere Moon knight
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(Kid reader)
You felt cold all of a sudden and in an unfamiliar sense.
You whined and slowly sat up, seeing you were in a small room on the ground tucked into a mattress.
"Hello." You called out, holding onto the blanket.
You heard a noise and looked up to see the door opening.
It opened to reveal a brunette man; you looked up at him with fear.
"Oh, love, you're awake." He said in a British accent as you hid under the blankets.
"Hey, it's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of. I brought you hot cocoa." He said, kneeling on the floor beside your mattress.
You poked your head out and looked up at him.
"Who are you?" You whispered as he smiled sweetly.
"My name is Steven. Can you tell me your name?" He asked as you slowly sat up.
"Y/N." You whispered before he slowly handed you the warm cup.
"What a beautiful name." He said as you looked down into the cup.
"Where's my father?" You asked quietly.
"You won't ever have to see him again, okay?" He said as you looked up at him, sadly.
"He finally gave me up?" You whispered. Steven returned your sad expression.
"Not exactly, sweetheart. We took you from him so you won't be hurt anymore." He said, making you nod a little.
"Okay." You muttered, taking a sip of the hot beverage.
A part of him was glad you weren't scared, but another part was worried about how easily you accepted all of this.
"Is there anything you'd like to do today?" He asked cautiously, reaching up to run his hand over your hair.
"Can we get some food?" You whispered, looking up at him. He chuckled softly.
"Of course, we can love. I have some cereal, would you like that?" He asked as you thought for a while.
"Do you have any pizza? I saw it on a sign, I want to try some." You whispered not looking up at him afraid of being struck.
He laughed softly, as you looked up shocked he wasn't angry.
"I can order some if you'd like and they'll bring it to us nice and hot." He said as you smiled and nodded.
You gave him the finished cup and jumped up.
"Yes please mister!" You shouted excitedly making Steven stand up and smile at your happiness.
He led you out to the kitchen and told you to sit at the table.
He began ordering a pizza on the phone as you sat quietly.
When he ended the call you looked up at him.
"Mister, why am I here? Where's my father?" You whispered as he looked down at you.
His face seemed to change as he smiled.
"Well, mi hija. We're right here, we're your father. That other man won't be in your life ever again." He whispered in a Spanish accent kneeling to face you where you sat.
He reached forward and ran his hand over your face.
He could see you were afraid.
"I know you loved him. But he hurt you didn't he?" He whispered as you nodded a little.
"See? Real fathers don't hurt their children. That's why we are your fathers now mi amor." He said as you felt tears in your eyes.
"What if I don't want to?" You whispered as his face fell.
"Maybe you don't want to, but you need us. Don't you want toys, food and love? We can give you anything you want mi hija." He whispered his hand holding your face.
"Come on, isn't there something you've always wanted?" He whispered as you looked down at him.
"A unicorn toy." You whispered making him smile.
"Well, if you're good for us. I'll get you the biggest unicorn toy I can find. How does that sound mi hija?" Jake whispered as he saw a small smile on your lips.
"I can do that." You whispered making him chuckle.
"Can I have a hug mi amor?" He asked as you nodded, you got down from your chair and slowly came forward to hug Jake.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you in return.
"Good girl." He whispered before you pulled away.
"Why don't you go sit and watch some TV while we wait for the pizza? I need to talk with Marc and Steven." He said as you nodded, you went to the lounge ans sat down letting Jake put the TV on for you.
After watching tv a bit the pizza had arrived and you sat at the table with Marc.
"So, your name is Marc?" You asked as he chuckled and nodded.
"It is sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want." He said making you laugh as you kept eating.
"Do you like the pizza?" He asked as you smiled and nodded.
"Very much!"
After eating you'd talked with Marc. But he knew you were getting tired.
"I want to go home now." You whispered standing up and walking towards the door.
"Sweetheart it's okay." Marc said standing up to follow you.
"I want to go!" You screamed bashing on the door before he knelt behind you.
"Y/N, sweetheart. It's okay, can you look at me?" He said softly as you slowly turned around.
"I don't want to be punished." You whispered as he offered you a soft smile.
"Sweetie we won't hurt you. We would never hurt you. Baby girl we would punish you for being afraid. All of this is so new to you, if you're scared we can talk and do anything you need to help. Would you like to watch a movie? I've got some candy as well if you'd like." He said as he saw you slowly beginning to calm down.
You didn't say anything and he knew you were still hesitant.
"I'll get some candy for us. Can you sit on the couch for me?" He asked as you nodded and headed back over to the couch.
He grabbed the candy out before sitting on the couch beside you.
You took small pieces and picked out a movie with him.
Within 20 minutes you had fallen fast asleep on Marc's lap. He chuckled a little and switched off the TV before slowly picking you up.
He brought you back to your bed and tucked you in.
"Sleep well sweetheart. Welcome home."
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namjoon-koya · a day ago
Hi. Idk if u still do request but if you do, could you please write a hc or something about reader being adopted by Steven Grant? Thanks. (Btw I love your Dr. Strange hc on 'being Dr. Strange's daughter would include...' it's awesome.)
a/n: so I know I usually don’t do marvel requests anymore, but this is actually cute because I haven’t seen a headcanon like this yet.
Warning: nothing really besides fluff and Steven being a great dad.
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Id like to imagine Steven as a “awkward” first time dad lmao, he probably had to check out a lot of books at the library about parenting. Imagine him trying to swaddle you, he ends up doing it so many times only to unfold it when he messes up.
Whenever he goes to work at the museum he tries to do inventory quickly so he can get back home to you, along the books he checked out he remembered seeing that it’s important for a child not to be separated from their parents too long, especially when they’re still little.
Steven will be the type of dad to do the moby wrap (where the baby is close to the chest of their parent) and will literally walk down the street like that often gently talking to you, even while you’re asleep. Will also hold you up so you can see Gus swim by or eat his fish food, sometimes he’ll get a smile from you.
Okay, but imagine you can see Khonshu while Steven still couldn’t see him yet. Steven will probably be preparing your bottle and he can hear you babble from your cradle, “I’m coming! Just be patient.” He said not knowing a certain moon God was staring at you. Khonshu probably didn’t know what to think of you at first, he’s never interacted with tiny humans before so he’ll keep his distance.
Marc would probably be nervous around you too, thankfully you were always asleep whenever he returned back to the flat from fighting crime…until one night you woke up crying when he arrived back. He’s seen Steven take care of you, but I think he would be nervous. What if he did something wrong and made you even cry worse? But he knew you wouldn’t stop crying if he did nothing so ever so gently (as he tried) he would pick you up from your cradle.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He says bringing you closer to him. After that he doesn’t get as nervous as he was back then, sometimes when he would return back he would gently carry you back to the bed with him. Marc doesn’t sleep that much anyways so he often stays up gently rubbing your back. So once Steven knows about Khonshu he has a habit of asking Khonshu to watch you while he prepares your food, Khonshu doesn’t even understand why he has to watch you.
“They’re beginning to crawl, just watch over them.” Khonshu won’t admit it to ANYONE, but he does have a soft spot for you. He would literally move the stars for you especially when you show no fear of him, “you’re a brave one aren’t you little one?” If Marc ever catches Khonshu being soft though he will tease him about it. Khonshu will also be protective as fuck over you, he will protect THE BABY. Especially if Harrow or Ammit mention you, ends up telling Steven to kill him if they threat you or try to use you as a bribe.
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